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voidscattered · 10 months ago

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Chekilli glanced over at Wing in concern. Looking at him, now knowing things he’d gone through and especially so how he thought of himself . . . It hurt. He hurt very much for him and he just . . . he’d do anything to take all that away from him. To take away all of Wing’s pain, all of the things that had hurt him. He doubted even wishing could do much for that, at least not immediately, but there were things he could do that might be able to at least start the natural process of healing. Such as counteracting those false and horrifying thought processes and just . . . covering him with as much love as he could possibly give him.

His staring was noticed, though, and he smiled softly at Wing as the other turned to look at him and smile back. Gosh, even just seeing that smile again, after hundreds of years, was enough to make him start to tear up again. He moved closer and gave him a hug, just . . . extremely happy to just have him back again. He’d thought he’d lost him . . . and yet here he was in front of him, alive, and in his arms.

After a bit he pulled away from the hug with a fond smile, before his expression morphed into something serious. “. . . We need to talk, Wing.”

Gaster shifted uncertainly under his creator’s gaze. Did something happen? Did he do something wrong? Stars, had he already done something wrong so soon after reuniting with Chekilli? Did he not like that he and Pearl had a soul bond after all? Was he mad at him? He, he’d become too comfortable in the Underground, acting as if he was anything other than his creator’s assistant simply because his creator hadn’t been around to be assisted, and now he must have annoyed him or stars forbid angered him by doing something wrong. What in the world was wrong with him?

Chekilli scanned Wing’s face, extremely concerned at the alarm and even fear he saw in there. What had they done to him? “Hey,” he said softly, lifting his hand to cup the skeleton’s face. “Hey, hey, Wing. It’s okay. You’re not in trouble or anything. Nothing’s wrong. You’re more than good, actually.”

Gaster hesitated. Had . . . had he really done nothing wrong? Then what did Chekilli want to talk to him about?

His creator sighed. “You know I love you, right?”

“OF COURSE . . .” Where was this going? Why would he preface with this if Gaster had done nothing wrong? What was going on?

“. . . I’ve been told you don’t exactly think the best of yourself.”

He froze. How did he find out about that, he wasn’t supposed to find out about that. He knew it sounded bad and he hadn’t wanted to worry him, even if he felt it to be true. Had . . . had Pearl told him? She was the only one who really knew much about it that Chekilli had met. And she’d told him multiple times over that it wasn’t true so of course she’d talk to his creator about it. Stars . . .

Wing’s expression told Chekilli all he needed to know. Not only was it confirmation that this was in fact a thing, but also that Wing hadn’t been expecting him to know about it and likely had had no intention of telling him. Both of which were incredibly concerning. How long had this been going on? How long had he been suffering through all of this? How long?

He dropped his hand from Wing’s face, instead taking both of his hands in his and squeezing them earnestly. “You’re worth just as much as any other person, Wing. You’re worth just as much as me, as Grillby, as your sons, as Pearl, as everyone else. That is an objective fact.” He hesitated, then asked, “. . . What makes you think you’re so much less than everyone else?”

Gaster hesitated, not . . . not really sure what to do with what was being said. Pearl had already gone over this with him, but it still didn’t exactly feel true and right now, face-to-face with his creator, he didn’t really believe it. Especially not that he was worth as much as Chekilli was. But he was asked a question by his creator, so he needed to answer it. “. . . I WAS MADE AS YOUR ASSISTANT,” he said slowly, uncertainly. “THAT’S . . . WHAT I AM. I’M JUST . . . SIDE HELP. STARS, I DIDN’T EVEN COMPLETELY COME OUT HOW YOU WANTED . . .” How could he be worth as much as everyone else? How could he be worth as much as Chekilli?

Well. That was extremely concerning. “That’s not all your are, though. Geez, Wing, if all I’d wanted was an assistant I wouldn’t have completely tied up my magic into solely creating and taking care of you for four years. If all I’d wanted was an assistant I’d have just asked someone else in the village.” He squeezed his hands again. “I wanted you, Wing. I wanted you as a person. If anything the assistant thing was just an excuse for me to make you, not the reason. I love you, Wing, for everything that you are. For who you are. Not what you were made for. Put me in the same situation but without a need for someone to help me? I still would have made you. I’d been thinking about you years before I actually started prepping for you. I don’t care what you were made for. And I certainly don’t care that you didn’t come out exactly how I pictured. That’s on me, not you. You were my first monster, Wing, I was inexperienced and I overachieved. So no, I don’t care about that. I care about you. I care about you, and who you are now, not what I initially imagined you to be.”

Gaster had . . . well, he had no idea how to respond to any of that, left speechless at the whole thing. But as his creator kept talking, tears pricked at his eyes, and he quickly started wiping them away. Stars, he did not need to start crying in front of Chekilli. But he had no idea what to do with this, this utter and complete love that he was giving him, with words completely contradictory to what he’d believed for hundreds of years now. Instead of everything he’d been worrying about upon Chekilli discovering that something was wrong with him, instead of the annoyance, and disappointment, all he got was just . . . just pure love, and he had no idea what to do with that. Stars, if he could just not. CRY, though.

His attempts at wiping away his tears were stopped when Chekilli grabbed his wrists. “It’s okay, Wing. You can cry. Nothing’s wrong with crying, and nothing’s wrong with you. I love you, Wing, with all of my heart.”

Gaster hesitated, then fell into a hug with him, crying softly into his shoulder. Stars, he just . . . he did not deserve having Chekilli as his creator. He really didn’t. But he was so, so lucky to have him. He could still scarcely believe that he’d just been so . . . accepting of him and everything he’d done wrong. And loving. He had no idea what to do with it.

“It’s okay, Wing,” Chekilli said softly, holding his son close. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m here for you now, and I love you. Nothing’s going to happen to you here.” As he listened to his tears, his expression hardened, staring into the distance. How dare they do this to Wing. How dare they hurt him like this. He hoped, for their sakes, that none of the Monster Hunters were still alive, because he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back if he ever came across them again.

When Wing finally pulled away, he gave him a soft smile, then paused. “. . . You know, being an assistant was never an obligation, but if you’re having so much trouble with this, then I formally release you from the purpose you were made for.”

Gaster spluttered, startled at the declaration. “WHA- YOU- YOU CAN’T DO THAT!”

“Says who? I’m the one who created you, aren’t I? I can get rid of or change your purpose as I please. So it’s gone now! Goodbye! No more of this assistant stuff! Your new purpose is to just be yourself, with the addition of taking care of yourself, and that’s it.”

Gaster opened and closed his mouth several times, wanting to say something against that but not finding any words or reasoning to back him up. Chekilli wasn’t wrong, he was his creator, he could just do that. But he had no idea how to respond to it.

His purpose was to be himself? What was he supposed to do with that? So much of himself and how he thought of himself was based around being an assistant, being someone who helped. What was he supposed to do now? Who . . . Who was he without that? He looked at him helplessly. “I . . . I DON’T . . . KNOW . . . HOW . . . ?”

Chekilli frowned. “. . . You don’t know how for which part?”

“I . . . I DON’T KNOW HOW TO SET MYSELF APART FROM MY PURPOSE . . . UH, MY . . . PREVIOUS PURPOSE?” That was . . . That was really weird to think about, that he wasn’t supposed to act as that anymore. He. He didn’t know what to do with himself.

Well that was concerning. “. . . Well, let’s see. The Wing I know is in love with the night sky. He’s very curious and likes learning new things and takes very well to it. He’s fascinated with magic. He’s a very caring person, to all creatures. And apparently he’s quite accomplished if he’s now the top scientist amidst all monsters. Wing, you’re so much more than what your purpose has been. You’re so much apart from that. And I love you for that. Not because of what you’ve done to fulfill your purpose, but because of who you are.”

Gaster . . . supposed . . . But he still wasn’t sure what to do with all that, so he latched onto the one thing he did know he could respond to. “BECOMING THE ROYAL SCIENTIST WAS SHEER LUCK. I WAS JUST IN THE RIGHT PLACE AT THE RIGHT TIME, AND THERE WEREN’T MANY MONSTERS LEFT TO COMPETE. THAT WASN’T ME.”

What . . . Was Wing’s first reaction to a compliment immediately denying it? He was just getting a worse and worse picture of how badly he was in this thought process . . . “Wing, you figured out how to make magic artificially. You created something that allowed monsters to thrive in a situation designed to stifle them into dust. And who knows what else you’ve made? That was you, Wing. That is you. And none of that is staying on the sidelines as a mere assistant to everybody else.”

Gaster hesitated. Was that true? Was that him, unconnected to his purpose? Was it good for him to not be connected to it? It was what he was made for, after all . . . But Chekilli was changing that now. He was giving him a new purpose. And he still felt like he was flailing without a grip to latch onto. “E- . . EVEN IF ALL THAT IS TRUE, HOW . . . HOW WOULD I EVEN TURN THAT INTO A PURPOSE? HOW . . . WHAT WOULD I EVEN DO?”

“You do whatever you want to do, Wing. Do what you enjoy. And don’t try to help others more than you’re able. I’m not telling you to never help them, helping people is part of your personality, but you don’t have to put them above yourself, and especially not to the point of actually harming yourself.”

“BUT WHAT IF THEY NEED IT?” Gaster said immediately. “I CAN’T JUST LEAVE THEM WITHOUT HELP IF THEY NEED IT.” And he still felt like he wasn’t really worth that much . . . Pearl, Chekilli, and his therapist had been trying to tell him otherwise, but it still felt like . . .

“If they need it, and if helping would result in harming you, then ask somebody else to help instead. It’s okay to let others help instead. And if it’s not an immediate problem, then you could also just wait until you’re doing better, until you can handle it without being hurt by it yourself. And along those lines, it’s okay to let others help you. You don’t have to do things by yourself. Humans and monsters are social creatures, Wing. We’re not meant to go through things on our own. It’s okay to let others help you, too. Okay?”

“I . . . I . . . O-OKAY.” He . . . couldn’t really figure out any other excuses, and he still wasn’t sure what to do with this. Suddenly changing his purpose . . . That was a big change, and he hadn’t been expecting it, much less prepared for it. He . . . was going to need some time to process it. He was supposed to just . . . be himself? That was it? Be himself and take care of himself? Stars . . .

Chekilli smiled softly at him, squeezing his hands before letting him go. “Good.” He knew releasing him from his purpose wouldn’t stop him from wanting to help others; of course not, that was ingrained into his very being. He’d intentionally made him a very kind person who liked to help. But he didn’t want him to consider himself lower than others because of it, and especially not less of a person.

He didn’t even know how much this would help. It had to be a deeply ingrained thought process if it had lasted for so long and was as bad as Pearl seemed to think. But hopefully getting rid of his purpose like that would at least kick the logic out from underneath it and start that process of healing.

He really shouldn’t have overachieved with Wing, if the results had given him this much insecurity over himself. Well, no, most of this had come from what the Monster Hunters had done to him, but he had no idea if Wing had ever been feeling any bit of this even before the war and simply hadn’t said anything. He hoped he hadn’t . . .

“. . . Wing, be honest with me. Even before the war, had I ever done anything that ever gave you any impression that any of this, this thinking lesser of yourself was true?”

“WHAT? NO, NO, YOU WERE . . . YOU’VE ALWAYS BEEN AMAZING, CHEKILLI. YOU NEVER DID ANYTHING WRONG.”

He scanned his face, wishing they’d still had the soul bond so he could actually tell whether he was being truthful on this or not. Knowing how his son thought of himself currently, Chekilli was worried that he was simply saying that to avoid making him feel bad. “Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure? Don’t worry about my feelings. I just want to know if there’s anything I need to avoid in the future. I don’t ever want to hurt you, Wing, and if I ever did in the past then I want to know.”

“IT’S FINE, CHEKILLI. YOU DIDN’T DO ANYTHING.” He never felt less before the war. The war is what opened his eyes to his flaws. Or . . . or . . . it’s what . . . gave him . . . false ideas . . . ? Everyone he’d talked to about it seemed to think they were false, anyway . . . They certainly didn’t feel false . . .

“. . . Okay. Okay, good. Just . . . tell me if I ever do, alright? Or, if you can’t bring yourself to, then tell someone else.” He was well aware of the potential power imbalance between creator and created - heck, he’d just used that to change Wing’s purpose, though hopefully for the better - and he didn’t want that to tip into something bad. And communication was key to prevent that from happening.

“. . . OKAY. I’LL TRY.”

“Good. Thank you, Wing.”

The two of them fell silent for a moment, simply . . . enjoying each other’s presence. It had been a very long time since they’d seen each other, after all, and it was just . . . it was really nice to just be with each other again. Neither had thought the other was still alive, and it was incredible to have each other back again.

But the whole creator/created thing was bothering Chekilli still. The dynamic really didn’t seem to be helping things, and while he didn’t view Wing as something he could just . . . do whatever he wanted with because he was his own thing he created, and he absolutely didn’t view him as property, it was starting to seem like Wing might be viewing him as such, as someone who held that kind of control over him, and that was extremely concerning. Was there any way they could change that? Like he had with Wing’s purpose? Any way to get rid of that? Well . . . the only thing actually tying the two of them together, the soul bond, was already gone. Maybe bring his attention to that? And to the way Chekilli viewed him?

“. . . Hey, Wing,” he ventured.

“MM?”

“You’re free now. Well, you were never required to do anything due to being someone I created, but since you seem to be having trouble with this: I’m officially setting you free. It’s not like we have the soul bond anymore, anyway, so consider that the symbol of us breaking that relationship.”

“I-I, WHAT? WHAT- BUT- YOU STILL ARE THE ONE WHO CREATED ME. THAT’S NOT A THING THAT CAN BE CHANGED.”

“Maybe not, but that doesn’t mean the dynamic has to be the same. Besides, that was never how I viewed you. I never thought of you as something I could just do whatever I wanted with. You know how I thought of you? How I still think of you?”

“. . . HOW?”

He leaned forward, squeezing his hands. “As my son.”

Gaster froze, then looked away. He knew Pearl had been very insistent on that, but it still didn't feel right. There was a difference, between a monster and a child. "I’M NOT YOUR SON, CHEKILLI.”

“And why not?” he asked, slightly indignant. “It may have been by a different mechanism, but you came from my magic, and I raised you and took care of you as my own.” His gaze softened, and he cupped Wing’s face again. “I’ve always thought of you as my son, Wing. Always. Nothing is going to change that. That’s who you are to me.”

Stars, even Chekilli was being insistent about this. But that . . . that wasn’t what he was. That wasn’t at all what he was. How could he . . . How could he place him on such a high level? “WH . . . WHY? HOW? I DON’T . . . I DON’T DESERVE THAT TITLE, CHEKILLI. THAT’S NOT WHAT I AM. I’M JUST YOUR MONSTER.”

“Deserve- You absolutely deserve it, Wing! This isn’t- This isn’t something based on merit. There isn’t a way to not deserve it. It’s just what you are. It’s what you’ve always been to me.” He pulled him back into a hug. “I love you, Wing, and I absolutely consider you my son. Please, Wing. Please.”

Gaster wasn’t expecting the hug. Nor . . . nor everything that Chekilli had just told him. He was . . . he was absolutely being serious about this, wasn’t he? He had no idea what to do with that, incredulous as to the very idea of it. What was he supposed to . . . His son? He . . . He really thought of him that highly? That was . . . That was a lot, and he started to cry again, clinging to Chekilli as he did. How could he just . . . be so kind like this? He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t. But . . . he couldn’t deny how good it made him feel, to be considered as such. Even if it was hardly believable.

Eventually, Chekilli pulled away. “We’re getting rid of this whole creator-created thing, alright? Don’t call me your creator anymore. I’m your dad, now, or any variation of that that you might want to call me. Alright?”

Gaster hesitated, but then . . . slowly nodded. It felt . . . extremely weird, and not-right, but he couldn’t figure out a way to really deny it and get him to not do this. So he just . . . had to accept it.

Thank the stars. Chekilli slid his hands down to take Wing’s, squeezing them gently as he spoke. “Good. Good. I love you Wing. You know that?”

He nodded again, speaking quietly. “. . . I know. I love you, too.”

#postvoidalverse #chekilliverse #drabble #(but also #likestxrlight #)#(this got EXTREMELY long)#(<- those were the original tags and I will now also add #pacexlikexaxghost #I wish tumblr didn't POST THIS instead of saving the draft because I MEANT to put down when this was originally drafted #and now I don't remember #still in 2020 tho of course #and probably before we actually played out them reuniting cuz I had to edit things about the soul bond #and const being called his son not being a new concept to him)#(anyway it's a good thing I WAS planning on posting this today anyway because tumblr did NOT give me a choice)

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fridayyy-13th · 1 year ago

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y'all i'm like. so tired and overwhelmed right now. dare i even say sad.

#friday chats #tw vent #i should really go to sleep. but do i have the energy to get ready for bed? absolutely not #this feeling is exacerbated by the fact that it's **probably** that time of the month so i'm trying to be brave about it but like. augh.#i feel like there's a million things to do for college prep and then i'll actually be IN college and i'll have even MORE things to do #and it all feels so big and i am very small #i signed up for courses today!! but apparently i might be given a scholarship for the honors program at my school #and if it's big enough i know my parents aren't gonna let me turn it down #so i'd have to change up my nice schedule that feels like it's a good fit for me #and i also just REALLY don't want to do an honors program #i'm so tired from high school honors and dual credit and i want to go easy on myself since i do plan on getting a master's degree #and having to write and defend a thesis is something i'm absolutely not equipped for #even if i have department help i cannot public speak to save my life. it scares the shit out of me. hate hate hate it #i don't know. i just want things to be easy for once. or at least easier #this isn't even the only thing it's just the thing most recently on my mind #i just wish i had time to rest and prepare to feel totally ready to take on this new chapter of my life #...buuuut i don't. time marches ever onward. and all that.

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agdab · 2 years ago

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#work liveblog.#i am being so normal ans cool about today #ive hit my head ive slipped on how wet it is out ive got a key stuck in an ignition (got it unstuck)#i didnt get very good rest last night despite passing out almost immediately #bc of course i dont why the fuck would i get any rest #i am feeling awfully autistic fucking mad right now #my phonw keeps shitting the bed and not loading things when i need it to #i am going to stomp it. i qm going to fucking stomp it #i wish i didnt have to work to live i wish i just had money #i wish i didnt grow up poor and had the luxury of being able to save money back #i want to scream.

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paper-star-ships · 2 years ago

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Wish me luck y'all I have a very scary test to take :')

#pdf.chatterbox #It's the test for the end of the first course in my real estate class #I get 2 tries and I get no notes only a calculator #So I'm gonna be mostly studying today I think #esp since I don't know if there's even a calculator in my house #I think my dad probably has one #I'll ask about it #AHHH I'M NERVOUS...#I haven't had to take a test like this since middle school and I don't recall being this stressed and scared ;;;#to be fair I didn't spend most of my savings to take those tests...

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classyrbf · 3 months ago

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classmate!gojo part 2!

classmate!gojo who has been losing his mind trying to figure out who his mystery girl is. He’d assume it’s someone he knows, someone he hangs around, maybe one of the well known girls in his class. But looking at them, he didn’t really get that vibe. Sure they’d flirt with him, always hang around him, and that would be way too obvious. Despite being a part time investigator along with being a college student, that hasn’t stopped gojo from chatting with you. Still, everyday, you and him are sending pictures and videos back and forth and texting.

gojo: just tell me who you are, baby, promise I won’t bite ;)

you: where’s the fun in that, hm?

you laugh at knowing he’s frustrated. You see it on his face everyday when he walks into class, looking at his phone constantly and his eyes scanning the room. He does it in the cafe area as well when hanging with his friend, looking to see if any girl might fit his description of you. But of course, he never looks your way, completely disregarding your existence until late in the night when you’re both horny for each other. You can’t help but send him a video of you fucking your self with your dildo, your phone set up perfectly where you can’t see your face, but can see everything else. And you fuck yourself until you squirt all over your bedroom floor, legs shaking as you imagine it’s his cock.

poor gojo is just losing his mind behind the screen, listening to your moans and watching you squirt over and over, but all he’s thinking about is your face. Doesn’t stop him from getting off though. Of course he’s jerking his cock. Roughly. All the frustration is really getting to him. “Fuck! You’re really fucking teasing me, baby. You know that?”

the cycle continues for several days, until one day he misses class. What’s the problem in that? It’s the fact he needed the notes from that lecture and of course his friends never write them down. So, who did the professor direct him to? You. He’s walking up to you so casually, a bored look on his face as you’re sitting in your seat, palms sweating and internally freaking out. “Don’t mean to bother you, but do you have the notes from the last lecture?” He sighs in annoyance, adjusting his backpack.

“Oh, um…yeah, let me just…” You reach down into your bag and doing so, gojo noticed the color of your nails, his brows furrowing. They looked familiar.

“Nice nails,” he said. You couldn’t be his mystery girl, could you? No, no it was just a coincidence. You’re just some quiet, shy, and nerdy girl who keeps to herself. No way you fit in the description.

You pause for a moment, handing him your notes. “Thanks,” you mutter, quickly standing from your seat.

“Wait, don’t you want these back?” He asked, curious as to why you were in such a rush.

“Keep em, I have a picture of them on my phone.” You grab your bag and hurriedly walk away from him, your heart pounding against your chest. Gojo watches as you disappear from the lecture hall, immediately pulling out his phone to pull up a saved picture of his mystery girl, endlessly scrolling through pictures and videos to find one with your hands.

He stops at a video of you groping your tits, eyes widening when he notices the same color nails and design. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. No fucking way.” He shoves his phone in his pocket, quickly following after you, wherever you went. But he doesn’t know that you left home for the day, completely avoiding him.

You can’t believe you got so close to him today, so close you could smell his cologne and hear his voice in person. Just thinking about it had you so horny, so wet. And when he complimented your nails? It meant he was actually checking you out! His eyes were on you! “He talked to me!” You squealed, running to your room, locking your bedroom door and slipping your panties off from under your skirt. “He talked to me…he was looking at me…” You sink your fingers into your already soaked cunt, eyes fluttering shut as you move them faster, pressing against your g-spot.

Gojo stared at his phone, debating whether to text you. He needed to really see if you were his mystery girl. He needed to investigate a little more, meaning he needed to watch your every move before confronting you. “Can’t believe you really might be her,” he sighed, biting down on his bottom lip. “Those tits, that ass, that pussy, all belonging to a sweet little thing like you? Can’t be…” Gojo couldn’t help himself, palming his semi-hard cock through his jeans. “Shit, baby,” he moaned, undoing his jeans, pulling out his cock. His eyes shut, remembering the cute look on your face when he walked up to you, and he could smell your perfume too, and that voice…yeah, he could recognize that voice anywhere. You’re definitely her. “I hope you’re thinking about me too. Fuck that. I know you’re thinking about me,” he breathily chuckles, slowly fisting his cock to your pictures.

“You were so close to me today, mmmph—fuck!” You rub your clit in circles, watching a video of him jerking off his pretty cock. “Wish you would’ve bent me over and fucked me right there—ah!” You heavily pant, hips twitching. “I need more!” You reach over into your bedside drawer, pulling out your dildo. “Want your cock inside me, Toru,” you moan. “Please say you’re thinking about me too, please!”

You know he knows. He has to. Why else would he compliment your nails? And why hasn’t he texted you yet? You’ve scared him off. Of course he doesn’t want anything to do with you. But you’ll have your fun while it lasts.

I know I left it on a cliffhanger (I’m super evil 😈 )

part 1 part 3

#—☆classyrbf #jjk #jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen #jjk smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader smut #gojo smut drabble #gojo satoru x you #gojo x you #jjk smut drabble #jjk x reader smut #jjk gojo #gojo satoru smut drabble

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helielune · 10 months ago

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#i was like lets make a cute little thing really quick and then i tunnel visioned for.... 20 mins?#don't open the tags unless you're prepared for a wall of text #my art #another one of those images which uncomfortably straddle the line between 'my scribbles' and 'my actual work that i put real effort into'#anyway this is me after i was like let's make a proof of concept for a productivity app it'll be fun and fast #and in order to make a full proof of concept i went back to the initial thoughts i had about the app (which i wrote down of course)#so i could. y'know. get the full concept down. and then i read like thousands of words of completely disorganized spitballing. head spinnin #but also did you know that me from what. like 3 years ago? shares remarkably similar ideals as me today. who would have thought really.#i had forgotten about half of the stuff that i originally wanted in the app and now my app idea is slightly bigger #(my already big mind palace app is already. big)#and maybe you'd be like 'wow okay that just means you grew up and developed so you don't need them anymore!' false sense of security it's #actually because i am no longer a student and also have no job so my daily life is different but my work ethic (lack thereof??)#is still the. same. so if i were ever to work in a society again i would need. them. most likely #and the other half of the stuff that i originally wanted are things that i unwittingly wrote into my recent drafts so yeah i got kinda #blindsided by myself back there. 'oh shit YOU were the one who came up with this first. wtf i thought i was being original and innovative'#slight exaggeration bc what im making is like 98% clone and 2% not clone (but maybe still 99% clone bc there might be another app out there #that i just haven't heard of but is like exactly the same as what i am thinking in my head)a nyways #okay yeah uhhhhhhh so i'll be back at some point with more fun words good night fellows #also did you know that ms paint has layers now (not that new news) and also doesn't let you save in layers that's crazy shit

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obsessedwithceleste · 3 months ago

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Love Lies

Theodore Nott x Ravenclaw! reader

Based on this request 🫶🏽

Summary: You’re just as confused as everyone else when your mortal enemy wakes up fully convinced that you’re the love of his life. (Spoiler alert: literally no one else was surprised)

word count: 5.2k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

It was cold and windy and wet as you stepped off the quidditch pitch, rain soaking you to your core. Thank Rowena you didn’t have to play an actual match in this weather. No, that honor went to the Slytherins and Gryffindors and you did not envy them at all, regular practice was enough for you.

As you make your way back to the locker rooms you see students and staff already beginning to fill the open stands and shake your head with pity. No amount of drying or warming charms were going to make it a comfortable match to sit through.

Just as you're about to turn into the locker rooms you feel yourself jerk back as a green robed shoulder slams past you, nearly knocking you off your feet.

“Watch it dolcezza,” a familiar voice slurs over the rain, condescension dripping from his words.

Despite your better judgement, you turn to find yourself facing none other than Theodore fucking Nott, broom in hand, and signature cocky smirk pasted across his face. God you hated that boy.

“Call me sweet again you pompous git,” you snap, glaring up at the Slytherin.

“Why waste my breath on you?” He retorts, matching your steely gaze, his lip curling up in a sneer.

You had never gotten along with Theodore. It was no secret among your classmates that the two of you hated each other. Despite being in many of the same NEWT level courses, sharing a love for quidditch, and both of you basically residing in the Hogwarts library, you simply could not tolerate one another’s presence.

It was strange perhaps, you’d done the analyzation yourself. By all accounts you two should probably be friends. But no amount of similarities or shared interests could make up for the fact that Theodore Nott was an insufferable, arrogant arse who only cared about maintaining his perfectly curated reputation.

"You're right Theodore, save a tree a bit of work why don't you. Rowena knows that tree is doing more for the world than you are," you reply coldly.

Theo opens his mouth to respond, but for maybe the first time ever, you see the boy falter, if only for a split second, before he's back to his usual stoic self. He scoffs.

"Just forget it, you're not worth it," he mutters under his breath, rolling those pretty blue eyes as he turns to go.

You shake your head at the boy, scoffing yourself.

"Yeah, do your best to forget me Nott, because I won't hesitate to forget you."

"Don't be mad."

"Just hear us out."

Oh dear god. As soon as you hear the combined voices of Mattheo Riddle and Lorenzo Berkshire, you know that you're about to be in for a ride. You look cautiously up at the pair from your seat in the library, on edge because wherever these two were, Theodore was sure to be nearby.

"He's not here if that's what you're worried about," Lorenzo offers with a nervous smile.

It's the kind of smile you would offer a skittish cat that you've cornered in hopes it doesn't bolt, and you had an unfortunate feeling that you were the cat in this scenario. Still you feel your shoulders relax a bit as the two carefully sit down at the table across from you.

"So uh. We heard about your, ah, little tiff, with Theo today," Lorenzo starts out awkwardly, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else in the castle at this moment.

"Bloody tosser never shuts up about you," Mattheo mutters so quietly you almost miss it.

You raise in eyebrow at the two boys in front of you, waiting for them to get to the point as Lorenzo gives Mattheo a sharp jab to the ribcage.

"Anyway," Lorenzo continues a bit too loudly, "There was a bit of an incident at the quidditch match today."

"Yeah, Slytherin lost. Again. I heard," you cut in, trying to wrap this up.

"Okay, ouch," Mattheo mutters once more, earning a glare from both you and Lorenzo.

"Did you also happen to hear that Theo was knocked of his broom?" Lorenzo asks.

Oh shit. As much as you couldn't stand Theodore, it's not as if you wanted the boy to get hurt. And you knew from personal experience, any quidditch injury should be taken rather seriously. But then, why were Theodore's two best friends sitting here in the library with you and not in the hospital wing with him?

You narrow your eyes at the boys across from you.

"So what does this all have to do with me? Nothing good could possibly come of you two starting the conversation with 'don't be mad' and 'just hear us out'."

Lorenzo fidgets nervously, shifting in his seat and Mattheo refuses to make eye contact with you. You truly had never seen the ever stone cold Slytherin boys look so wildly uncomfortable before.

"He got knocked out and when he woke up he was convinced the two of you are madly in love," Lorenzo rushes out, flinching back as if waiting for you to yell at him.

"And now the smitten tosser is requesting the presence of his beloved. He's really torn up about it too," Mattheo adds looking the most serious he’d been, probably ever.

But you were having none of it.

"Alright, hahaha, you almost had me there, you two actually sounded pretty sincere for a bit, but seriously it's not funny anymore. There's simply no reality where Theodore is in love with me, that's disgusting and I'm not stupid."

Mattheo and Lorenzo glance at each other with knowing looks before sighing in unison.

"On Salazar's good name, we are not lying or joking about this," Mattheo says solemly.

"And we didn't want to involve you in this whole thing anyway. We know about how well you and Theo get along. It's just that Madam Pomfrey is concerned that, until she's able to brew something to get Theo's head back on right, any world crushing stress or shock might have lasting, long-term psychological effects or what have you," Lorenzo finishes, emphasizing his last point rather strongly.

You continue to stare at the two boys in front of you as if their heads had been replaced by hippogriffs, slowly understanding what they were asking of you.

“Oh absolutely not. There’s literally no way. I’m not going up there.”

You hated the smell of the hospital wing. It was far too... sterile. Unnervingly so. The last hour of your life had been a blur and frankly you still weren't entirely sure how Lorenzo and Mattheo had managed to wrangle you all the way up to the hospital wing, but here you were.

As you make your way to the large double doors that lead into the infirmary, you send one last pointed glare to the pair of Slytherins behind you before turning, steeling yourself as you prepare for the worst.

The first thing you notice when you enter the brightly lit room is how strangely peaceful it is. As you quietly approach the rows of narrow hospital beds, the second thing you notice is how normal Theodore looks lying there asleep. There's no snarling lips, raised eyebrows, or biting words, it's just Theo. Tilting your head a bit, you're able to really admire the boy for the first time, not worrying about what insult he's going to throw at you next. He actually was rather attractive, you could see why so many of your classmates practically threw themselves at his feet. Maybe you would too if he weren't such an insufferable prat.

Just as you’re about to finally feel a bit more at ease, Theodore has to go and ruin it, because of course he does, by shifting a bit in his bed, eyes fluttering before settling softly on you.

“Morning dolcezza, finally come to see me hm?” he asks, lips curling up into a sickeningly sweet smile. You can see the adoration in his eyes as he looks up at you.

It should’ve been a sweet moment. Something straight out of a romance movie perhaps, but all you could hear was the way he had snarled ‘dolcezza’ at you earlier that day. Nothing but hatred and malice on his face. Not, this. Whatever it was.

“Please don’t call me that,” you blurt out, your body subconsciously stiffening, ready for whatever Theodore was about to throw back at you.

Instead though, he looks hurt. A frown flickers across his face making him look like a kicked puppy and you instantly feel a wave of guilt crash over you.

What the hell had happened out on that quidditch pitch.

Before the situation could get any more uncomfortable than it already was, Madame Pomfrey saves the day as she comes whisking into the hospital wing to check up on her charge.

“Hello dearie, you must be the one Mr. Nott has been going on about all evening,” she says with a knowing glance as she gives Theodore a quick inspection. “Now it’s been my understanding that Mr. Nott hasn’t quite been, well, himself since he woke up. Unfortunately, the specific brew that’s needed for these kinds of things takes a full moon cycle to whip up. Until then...”

You stare at the witch in horror. The idea of being stuck with Theodore for the next month made you want to vomit.

“I feel fine,” Theodore protests, shoving himself into a sitting position and reaching out to clasp onto your hand.

It takes everything in you to not recoil away and you shoot a look at Madam Pomfrey, hoping she’d speak some reason into the boy.

“Well, if you’re sure,” she says instead, “Mr. Nott is clear to go, but do come back if you start feeling dizzy again, I simply won’t have another student fainting in the corridors.”

With that, she ushers Theodore up and out of bed before shooing the both of you out of the hospital wing.

Once the metal doors clang shut behind you, you feel Theodore reach out, grabbing your hand once more.

“Let me walk you to your common room then?” He asks, giving your hand a light squeeze, already tugging you in the direction of Ravenclaw tower.

Resistance seemed futile at this point, so you let the boy drag you along doing your best to avoid conversation and eye contact. You receive several very bewildered stares as you pass your classmates in the hallway, but thankfully no one says anything. Not to your face anyway.

When you finally arrive at your common room door, even the golden eagle mounted to the door looks baffled by your choice of Slytherin companion.

Before you can pull away, Theo presses a soft kiss to the top of your head and you jerk away from him.

“Um, I’ll see you tomorrow carissima,” he murmurs, eyebrows furrowed a bit before he turns and disappears down the corridor.

The first week with Theodore glued to your side is, for lack of better words, literal hell. The next morning on your way down to the great hall for breakfast you simply want to melt into the floor in horror when you find Theodore waiting outside your common room door, garnering a good number of whispers and stares from your fellow housemates.

He takes hold of your hand once again and you begrudgingly follow, silently cursing the brunette boy and the rest of his bloodline.

“Have you finished the charms essay Flitwick assigned last week?” Theodore asks as you stroll through the corridor.

You want to burst out laughing at how comically mundane the question was given the absurdity of the whole situation, but you do your best to keep it together.

“Not quite, just have to wrap up the last few lines I think,” you reply, trying to keep it short.

“We can finish up in the library together tonight then,” Theodore decides.

You open your mouth to protest, but close it just as fast. If you were going to be stuck with this tosser, you might as well extort him you think begrudgingly to yourself.

You can feel several pairs of eyes on you as you sit down next to Theodore at the Slytherin table. Your blue robes stick out like a sore thumb making you rather self conscious. Still, his friends all greet you as if it’s the most normal thing in the world to have you sitting with them and you feel like you’ve entered the twilight zone.

As the rest of the week goes by, it’s all more of the same. Trying to hold back a grimace every time Theodore takes your hand or kisses your forehead good night, pretending you weren’t completely weirded out by the way his friends had so easily adapted you into their little group, ignoring the whispers and side eyes from other students.

Objectively speaking, this could be much worse. Theodore was actually rather tolerable to be around when you weren’t throwing insults back and forth. The real issue was that every time you thought to yourself that Theodore Nott might not be all bad, you’d get a sudden flashback of him and his friends picking on some innocent first or second year, or playing a particularly foul game of quidditch, or the time they’d hexed poor Hermione Granger’s teeth to keep on growing like a beaver's and you’d feel sick to your stomach.

You really didn’t think your hatred for Theodore was all that misplaced. When it came down to it, he and his friends could be down right bullies and you loathed the way they acted as if they were above others. Even now when it came down to it, your whole part in this little cooked up scheme was to protect Theodore’s ego.

It's in the second week that your perception on things begins to crack. You'd been spending a lot of time with Theodore and his friends and, you didn't really know what you had expected, but, it wasn't this.

It was the first time you'd ever been in the Slytherin common room. All dark and cold and dreary. Nothing like Ravenclaw tower, but they were on two opposite ends of the spectrum you supposed. You were sat next to Theodore, buried in your book, one that he had given you, and trying to ignore everything going on around you when a group of first year Slytherins come stumbling into the dungeons, huddled around a young boy who's skin was an alarming shade of electric purple.

You're not prepared for the way the students around you jump into action. Daphne Greengrass is by the boy's side in moments, wiping tears from his cheek as Lorenzo and Pansy interrogate some of the other's as to what had happened.

It had been some second year Gryffindors, one girl said her lower lip trembling. Apparently they had gotten their hands on some of the Weasley twins' underground candies and tricked the poor boy into eating a few.

You watch silently as Draco and Blaise examine the boy before ushering him off to their dormitory, confidently telling him a cure would be easy enough to brew.

In all the commotion, you don't notice Mattheo and Marcus Flint sneaking off to go find a certain group of young lions. But Theodore does.

"Better go make sure they don't take things too far," he sighs, rising from his place next to you and giving your hand a squeeze before following the other boys out of the dungeon. You don't even have time to protest.

You're about to just return to your common room and call it a night when Daphne finds her way over to you, having calmed down most of the shaken up first years, and sits down next to you.

"Sorry you had to see all that," she sighs looking tired and worn down.

"I didn't realize you all were so close," you state, gesturing to some of the older students who had seemingly taken some of the younger ones under their wing now.

"We have to be. If we aren't on our own side, who else will be?" she replies.

When she's met with silence she gives you a tight lipped smile before turning, ready to go.

"So when Theodore and Mattheo get into fights, is it always because—?" You let your words trail off, not really sure where you were taking this and Daphne turns to face you once more.

"Honestly? No. Sometimes they can just be massive pricks. They usually make up for it though." Daphne says as you nod your head in response. "We really do appreciate what you're doing for Theo," she says, switching topics. "I know you don't exactly see eye to eye, and honestly I can't blame you. I know how the boys can be. But between you and me, I've always suspected that he actually liked you, at least a little bit. Maybe this knock to the head got him to finally come to his senses," she laughs.

"I don't know about that. I'm pretty certain once Madam Pomfrey whips up that potion, he'll be right back where we left off," you reply, adding in your own nervous laughter.

"You're only saying that because you don't know what he was really like before. You don't have to believe me, but if you really gave him a chance- you never know."

"Maybe, but I'm pretty sure about this."

Daphne shrugs her shoulders.

"Suit yourself, but um, if you wouldn't mind, maybe don't go spreading this whole incident around the school? We try to keep these kinds of things, discreet. Don't want the other houses to see us sweat and all."

You take a good look at the girl beside you and then at the room full of Slytherin students around you, realizing for the first time that it really did seem as if they had the whole school against them.

"No, of course not. I didn't see a thing," you tell her.

Daphne gives you a grateful smile as she rises to leave.

"He'll be back in a bit. Probably be glad to see you still here," she says before disappearing to her own dormitory.

It's not long before Theodore finally returns, his face lighting up when he spots you still tucked cozily away in your corner, nose buried in the pages of your book.

Theo was very confused to say the least. It had been almost three weeks since he'd been knocked off his broom in that match against the Gryffindors, and things just felt, off. Truth be told, he couldn't really seem to remember much of anything since before the fall. Not clearly at least. It was all fuzzy shadows and warped conversation, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't make sense of it all.

The only thing he was really certain about, was you. He remembered dreaming about you while he was asleep in the hospital wing, and how angry you had been that day before his match, though he couldn't quite place why. He had worried that that was why you weren't there when he woke up, maybe you were mad at him.

But then the next time he opened his eyes you were there, gazing down at him, and everything had just felt right. Your hand had slotted perfectly with his and he was sure that, out of everyone, you were the person he could trust the most.

So why did you look like you were in pain every time he approached? Why did you flinch away whenever his lips brushed the top of your head? Why did it feel as if you were holding him at an arms length?

All this swirled around in Theo's mind as he sat on the library sofa next to you, watching the warm glow of the fireplace dance across your face.

"Have I done something to make you upset carissima?" Theo asks, the words leaving his mouth before he can stop them.

You look up at him, startled by the abrupt question as you snap your book shut.

"No, why do you ask?"

Theo watches you turn your body to face him now, tilting your head as he furrows his eyebrows, trying to put the words together.

"I just, remember things being different, I think," he replies, hating how his brain wasn't letting him form cohesive thoughts.

"Oh?" You look surprised at his statement, eyes darting away from him and Theo can tell he's onto something.

"Was it before the match? Before I fell? Were we fighting about something carissima?" He asks again.

It's obvious you're thinking hard about what to say as Theo reaches out to take your hands in his. For once you don't flinch away from his touch, instead just staring at your intertwined fingers.

"It was something like that," you mumble as Theo rubs careful circles around your knuckles.

“I don’t think I remember a lot very clearly. It’s frustrating sometimes,” Theo admits. “But I remember you.”

“Yeah? What do you remember about me?”

“I remember how you always say hello to the painting outside of the charms classroom. And how you like to sneak snacks into astronomy. I remember the time in third year when we were flying on the quidditch pitch and you were about to get hit by a bludger so I had to move you out of the way.”

You blink at the last memory Theodore shares. You knew what he was talking about, but that’s not how you remembered it. You had been flying yes, when Theodore had come out of nowhere, shoving you while in the sky and then turning, laughing while calling you an idiot. You’d never even seen the bludger.

“I remember kissing you under the bleachers, and holding you by the fireplace. I remember you telling me you loved me.”

And that's where he lost you. Those memories, you didn't know where they came from, but for Theo, they were real. And who knew he was such a sap? You'd never thought the boy was even capable of having emotions.

"Can we start over? I don't remember why you were upset. But I'm sorry. I just want what little memory I have to go back to normal."

Theo watches as you let out a deep sigh. Every word out of Theodore’s mouth was like a punch to the gut, absolutely devastating any sort of resolve you had still been holding.

“Sure Theodore.”

“Just Theo,” he corrects as he pulls you into his arms, tucking your head snuggly under his chin.

The last week you have with Theo, or at least with this version of him, you spend trying not to get too attached. You'd grown rather used to having the boy appear by your side to carry your books or to sneak snacks into the library for you when you'd spent the last several hours putting the final touches on your ancient runes essay. You didn't even mind having to constantly tell him and Mattheo to quiet down anymore.

As it turned out, Daphne had been right about one thing. Theodore and his friends could absolutely be obnoxious, arrogant, pompous pricks, but they did have their ways of charming their way back into your favor. The little parasites. They'd grown on you.

You knew that Madam Pomfrey had finished brewing the elixir before Mattheo could open his mouth just by the guilty expressions on his and Lorenzo's faces when they walked into the Slytherin common room. You'd been frequenting the dungeons a lot more recently, but it looked like that was about to come to an end.

"It's ready then?" you ask, tucking your book away as your hand falls to rest on Theo's arm.

Mattheo just nods his head as you all turn to look at Theo who's still focused on his own book.

"Hey. Madam Pomfrey says she wants to give you one last check. Just to make sure your head is on straight," Mattheo says, thumping Theo on the shoulder.

"Why? I feel fine," Theo replies, an air of annoyance laced in his voice as he's torn away from his book.

"Don't know mate. Just humor the old bat," Enzo sighs.

Theo rolls his eyes before reluctantly rising from the couch, offering you a hand up as well.

"Coming along carissima?" he asks, already reaching out for your hand, but you dodge away.

"I think I'm going to head back up to Ravenclaw tower actually. It's getting pretty late," you reply, feigning a small yawn.

As you exit the dungeons, Enzo catches you by the arm.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with? We don't know for sure that he'll, ya know, go back."

"It's fine Lorenzo. I just- I really can't be up there. We all knew this wasn't a real, permanent thing. I just want to finish my book," you reply, backing away. "I hope Theodore feels more himself, I guess."

You can see Lorenzo's face visibly shift as you revert back to Theodore's full name, his whole demeanor stiffening.

"Right well. Have a night y/n."

And then he's gone.

When you finally make it all the way back to your tower, you collapse onto one of the sofas overlooking the castle grounds, eager to distract yourself by diving back into you book.

"Just come back from the dungeons?" the voice of Marietta Edgecombe asks, dragging your attention away from your novel.

You nod your head, hoping your short answer would encourage the girl to move on quickly.

"I called that one so early on. I've been telling Cho for years, those two are going to end up together, I just know it. And I was right!" she says gleefully, giving your shoulder a little squeeze before flouncing off.

“You came,” Theodore’s voice rings out from his spot on one of the stone benches that lined the walls of the astronomy tower.

“I did,” you reply carefully, watching as he leans back inviting you forward.

It had been almost two weeks since the antidote had been brewed and Theodore looked like he hadn’t slept at all in that time frame. You’d spent that time avoiding him, and all the Slytherins really.

You were confused and you hadn't known what to expect when Theodore came back down from the hospital wing. It had been a strange past month, and now you weren't sure where it left the two of you. What did he remember? Did he care?

You take slow steps forward, Theodore’s eyes never leaving yours until you’re standing directly in front of him. He continues to just stare at you, the silence becoming deafening.

“What do you want, Theodore?” You ask finally, growing frustrated as you let out an agitated sigh.

“Just to talk, dolcezza,” he replies lazily, patting the spot on the bench beside him.

“Don’t call me that,” you mutter, rolling your eyes but taking a seat anyway.

“Don’t call me Theodore,” he shoots back.

You feel your eyebrows raise.

“So you remember then?” You ask.

“I remember. Everything from the past month. And before.”

There’s another pause, less uncomfortable this time though as you both consider his words.

“So why am I here Theo?”

“Cause I can’t keep you out of my head mostly,” he replies, rather resigned to the fact.

“Have you tried?”

Theo gives you an exasperated look.

“Obviously. If I could, I’d just loose feelings for you, but it’s not exactly easy to fall out of love with someone you’ve been holding onto for so long. What do you think I’ve been doing for the last two weeks?” He grumbles stubbornly.

"What do you mean 'holding onto for so long'?" you ask, giving the boy a puzzled look. You'd hardly call a month a long time.

Theo just looks at you again as if silently willing you to simply read his mind. Unfortunately for him, that's not how osmosis works. With another long, drawn out sigh, Theo rests his elbows on his knees letting his head fall into his hands as he mumbles incoherently into his palms.

"Huh?"

He mumbles something again, louder this time. You squint at the boy, trying to make something out.

"If you're trying to confess your undying love for me, you're doing an awful job," you tell him.

This gets Theo to glare up at you, a pout almost visible on his lips. Oh how the mighty fall.

"I've liked you for years," he mutters, his chin resting in his palms now as he refuses to look at you. Pride really was a strange thing.

"Well, you've been truly terrible at showing it, you insufferable prat," you say, giving his shoulder a light shove.

Theo just let's out a grunt, watching your hand on the bench next to him from the corner of his eye. Dear Rowena, you had no idea how you'd ended up falling for this prick.

"But, I suppose you've been, significantly less insufferable this last month or so," you finish, carefully resting your head on his shoulder.

"If you're trying to say you like me too, you're doing an awful job," Theo responds, causing you to immediately tear yourself away from the boy once more.

A smile finally cracks Theo's lips as he smirks playfully up at your deadpan reaction.

"I take it back. I actually hate you. You are the worst."

"Aw, come on now carissima, did the last month mean nothing to you?" Theo asks, pulling you back into him, the same way he did that one night in the library.

"It meant literally nothing. You were being weirdly nice and clingy the whole time," you reply, begrudgingly feeling yourself melt into him.

It wasn't your fault you'd been going through withdrawals the last two weeks, okay? Theo's chest shakes with laughter against your head.

"Contrary to popular belief, I can be somewhat tolerable sometimes."

"Then why the fuck have you spent the last several years being such a prick? It was just pushing me away you know."

"That was kind of the point," Theo says, making you scoff. "Love is weakness and all."

God, the emotional whiplash was going to make you sick.

"Well, which one is the real you?"

"Can't it be both?"

"Not if you want me to put up with your sorry arse."

Theo lets out another quiet laugh.

"Well, you might have to learn to love both sides, because I do fear you're stuck with me," Theo responds, pulling you closer to his chest. "Now come here you little minx."

Before you can protest, Theo's hand has found your chin, tilting your head up just enough for him to capture your lips with his own. It's soft, hesitant at first, as if he's not sure if you'll pull away or not. But your hand finds its way into his hair, pulling him closer still as you move your lips against his, nipping, teasing. You can feel the smile grow on Theo's face as he deepens the kiss, his other hand finding it's way to rest on your thigh.

When you finally pull away, you can still feel his warm breath on your face as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"For the record, I still hate you," you say, still slightly out of breath, a teasing smile playing across your lips.

"I'm sure you do carissima. I hate you too," Theo replies before engulfing you in his arms once more.

Taglist: @adreamingpendulum @ahead-fullofdreams

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