Tumgik
#i know i'll never be enough. I know how often I think of death and wish it.
minus-plus-zer0 · 2 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
When You’re Depressed
Tumblr media
♡ Genre: Hurt/comfort ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader
Tumblr media
Today was exhausting. People were exhausting. For the entire day, you couldn’t wait to get home and do absolutely nothing for an indeterminate amount of hours.
Once you were home, you gunned it straight to your bedroom without talking to anyone. Your classmates looked at you funny as you passed them, but your mind only focused on getting to your bed so you could rest. You wanted to replenish your energy, which never seemed to fill entirely.
In your dark bedroom, you hugged your cute plushie tight against your chest. Your entire body felt like it weighed an extra fifty pounds. You couldn't see an easy way out of this predicament.
Your bedroom door unlocked and then opened. Light briefly flooded into your room before it closed. Now the only light that entered was from the sunset outside.
"Oi," Bakugou said. "What's gotten into ya?"
Bakugou walked over and sat on the side of your bed. You flipped over, facing away from him. You knew it was rude, but you couldn't really bring yourself to deal with anyone today. You didn't want him to see you like this.
Bakugou gave you some company regardless.
"You wanna talk?" Bakugou asked.
"...No," you said. "Don't feel like it. Don't feel like doing anything today."
There was a brief pause.
"...You wanna cuddle, then?"
There was that question again. Ever since you said yes the first time to cuddling, Bakugou just kept asking for your permission more and more often, like you broke an imaginary dam and whatever 'feelings' Bakugou previously held back came flooding in. You half-expected this question again the moment he entered the room.
You weren't dating, but boy did the thought cross your mind time and time again. Like just now. Your feelings for your best friend were one of the few lights in the darkness.
Your hold on your pillow became a death-grip. "Um... Yes, please."
Wordlessly, Bakugou got underneath the blanket and then lied down on the bed besides you, spooning your from behind. You both heard and felt him sigh in relief as he took you into his arms. His heart was racing against your back, just like the other times you cuddled, and you wondered if he knew you could feel it.
You always liked how you two cuddled. It blurred the lines of friendship between you two in a good way. The best way. You both trusted one another enough to hold each other like this, like you were something he'd always wanna keep close when he pushed everyone away. Now due to your depression, you were the one pushing others away and he had to be the positivity in your life that you had always been to him.
He tucked your body further into his. "Better?"
You smiled brightly in the darkness, knowing he couldn't see. "Better."
"Why are you so fucking sad for anyways?" Bakugou asked, his voice right against your neck.
"I... um..." It was hard to concentrate with him so close. "I felt so weak today. I didn't know if I could do everything that I needed to do. I felt hopeless. I don't think I can take much more of this."
"I know how you feel," Bakugou said, his head digging into your hair. "I'm the fucking same when I screw up. But it's not hopeless. And you're not weak. You're stronger than me in some ways. I'll always be there for you if you need anything. How's that sound?"
You hid your face into your plushie. "It sounds really, really good."
"Good," he said. You could feel his smirk against your neck. "You seem happier already. You can continue complaining to me about any stupid shit that's bothering ya, if ya want." He poked your cheek. "Or we can just stay here forever."
"Forever?!"
"I mean, 'until whenever'!" Bakugou's entire body tensed. "That's what I said!"
You slowly flipped around to face him and caught him looking flustered as all hell.
"...What if I wanna stay forever?" you asked.
Bakugou's eyes widened in realization. He froze.
Then, he looked at you so softly.
"We can do that too."
His hand sifted through the back of you hair, pulling your forehead against his. His eyes flickered down to your lips briefly, but your eyes were already closing to get some sleep. Before you drifted off into a nap, you felt Bakugou's arms tighten around you.
You didn't know how long 'forever' was, but Bakugou believed 'forever' was simply however long you allowed him to be there with you.
And maybe one day, he'd confess his true feelings to you.
Tumblr media
(This helped me finally get out of a writer's block)
140 notes · View notes
sunlit-mess · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
consumed by the inevitable
507 notes · View notes
rosy-thorneded · 8 months
Text
Examples of jokes I think Danny would make daily, but I haven't managed to write them into any of my fics yet:
Sam: Could you pass the remote?
Danny: You can pry it from my cold, dead hands.
Danny hands it over with no fuss.
-
Tucker: Hey, pass the ketchup
Danny: Over my dead body!
Danny arcs the ketchup over his head as he passes it to Tucker.
-
Jazz, calling through the house: Danny?! Where are you??
Danny on his bed: ON MY DEATH BED
-
Danny walking into any room, anywhere, at any given moment: this place is haunted
The joke is that it’s him. He's the ghost haunting it. Sam and Tucker hate this one because of how often he says it.
-
Goes ghost before he uses the phrases "You killed me" or "I'm dead" when something is funny.
-
Jazz whacks him over the head. (deserved)
Danny goes ghost the second her hand makes contact: MURDERER
-
Jazz: could you help me with-
Danny: I can't. I'm dead.
-
The classic "I guess I'll die" gag.
Tucker: You should probably go deal with that ghost, huh?
Danny: I guess I'll die
Goes ghost and flies off.
-
Dash: How about you eat shit and die
Danny: Well, I've already done one of those things.
Dash: D:
-
Sam, could be talking about literally anything: I would rather die
Danny: Same.
Sam: -_-
-
Sam: Danny, what did you do?!
Danny, who messed up: .....Deadmen tell no tales.
-
Danny, anytime anyone accidentally wakes him up: you're being loud enough to awaken the dead.
-
Danny: Paulina looks so pretty today
Sam: Seriously? You still have a crush on her? You know she'll never like you back.
Danny: you're being necrophobic
3K notes · View notes
heartsforhavik · 2 months
Text
superfan! yandere oc x popstar! reader (yandere alphabet)
warnings: a little nsfw, mentions of murder and violence, kidnapping, breaking and entering, stalking, depression, masochistic yandere, kinda worshipper yandere, some mentions of "offing" himself, mentions of death and starvation, established relationship, lowercase intended, not proofread, reader is gender neutral, i do not condone yanderes irl.
a/n: i was gonna do a request but uhhh i felt lazy. i'll make an alphabet for victor next cuz i feel bad for not writing him. plus i'm gonna try to make a masterlist soon so yippee! (also i apologize to all my non-yandere-enjoying followers that like my mortal kombat works, i'll get back to those someday. i just look back on my old works and cringe. i really dislike all my stuff from 2023.)
Tumblr media
Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?
bayani loves you with all his heart. he is often overbearing and obsessive, treating you like you're the only thing that matters. he is always fussing over you and making sure you're okay. he constantly asks you how your day has been, if you've eaten yet, if there's anything he can do for you, etc. he is your little servant. please make him feel useful. please let him help you. his only purpose is to entertain and satisfy you in any way he can. whether you want him to cuddle and kiss you often, or you want him to cook and clean for you, whatever you want. he doesn't have a particular love language. even if he did, he would change it to cater to your taste.
Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?
bayani believes violence is not the answer. he does not want to hurt anyone. but if it's for your safety, or if you order him to hurt or even kill someone, he would reluctantly do it. as much as he denounces violence, he cannot find it in his heart to disobey you. even if it is someone he knows, he'll do it for you. because if you think they should be dead, then you must be correct. bayani believes you can do no wrong, so he must act on your orders.
Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?
bayani would not abduct you. he would never do anything that would hurt your feelings. as much as he gets off on being physically tortured and verbally berated by you, he cannot imagine a world where you dislike him or hate him in any way. he would never kidnap you. besides, even if he wanted to kidnap you, his apartment is too shitty to keep you there, and he wants you to live a life of luxury.
Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?
bayani would absolutely not do anything against your will. he is nothing but your servant, and your fan. he does anything you want him to. he could never go against your will.
Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?
bayani is yours. he has put his whole heart out for you ever since he first saw you. from being your biggest fan, to stalker, to boyfriend. since day one he has been (mostly) open and vulnerable.
Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?
bayani would absolutely be turned on by your rage. kick him, spit on him, etc... the bulge in his pants would just grow harder and harder. however, as much as he enjoys being used as your personal punching bag, he doesn't want you to hate him. if you hated him, he might as well throw himself off a cliff. why should he live if you don't accept him? if he's not enough for you? he dedicated his life to following everything you did as a popstar, to dating you and doing everything you asked him to. so if you ended up hating him after everything he did for you, he wouldn't know what to do with himself.
Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?
it is not a game to bayani, not one bit. i can't see him kidnapping you at all, but if he did it would probably be for your safety. he would hate to see you so sad and desperate to leave. he'd try to give you whatever food or gifts you ask for, to distract you from trying to escape. it's for your own good, please don't cry and scream at him.
Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?
as much as bayani respects you, he often forgets your boundaries. he would break into your bedroom and watch you sleep, steal your clothes, or watch you while you shower. no matter how many times you try to tell him you're uncomfortable with his behavior and wish to have some alone time, he'd always claim that he would "respect you from now on" but the next day he'd go back to his perverted ways.
Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?
bayani is hoping to get married and live happily ever after with you. he doesn't see himself having kids, he'd prefer to keep all his time and attention on you for the rest of his life. as much as he supports your career and music, a part of him hopes you retire early so you can give him more attention. but if you want to keep up your career for a few more decades, that's okay with him too. whatever makes you happy, makes him happy.
Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?
bayani rarely gets jealous. but when he does, it's concerning. when he sees you hug or compliment a fan, he understands it's not romantic. he doesn't really care about it at all. however, if he sees a fellow popstar being a little too close to you or flirting with you, he immediately worries about himself. what if you leave him? he isn't attractive, or talented, or rich. you could easily leave him for a fellow popstar. bayani wouldn't blame you at all, or the popstar flirting with you. he only ends up looking in the mirror and picking himself apart for hours, wondering why you decided to date him. after that, he ends up being even more clingy than he was. he is basically glued to your hip, and doing everything you ask of him. he compliments you more and tries to make himself seem more energetic and loving. he even looks up ways to make himself more desirable to you, and trying out obscure skin care routines and putting lifts in his shoes. he tries to make himself better for you so you wouldn't leave him.
Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?
bayani's basically a dog at your beck and call. he sits near you with hearts in his eyes, ready to tend to your needs. he usually talks to you nonstop, yapping about something he saw on the internet you might like or a bug he saw on the sidewalk. of course he'd stop if you ask him to, but he's just so nervous around you! even after you start dating and he's no longer just a superfan, his little crush on you never fades away. he covers up his anxieties by talking about anything and everything. if you were to engage in his little yapping sessions, or even laugh at his jokes or agree with his opinions, he'd get extremely flustered and shy. he'd try his best to hide it, but his tomato red face would give it away.
Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?
bayani wouldn't even try to ask you out. he thinks of himself as nothing but a broke, ugly, stalker guy in love with you and your career. he thinks you're way out of his league. you would have to be the one to notice him and strike up a conversation. even then, he'd evaporate the moment you lay your eyes on him. but the more you notice him at your shows and interact with him, you'd become friends and then you'd have to be the one to confess to him.
Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?
bayani's true colors aren't too different from how he acts with others. he's truly a perverted, shy, stalker. his whole life, even in childhood, he was always shy and never really talked to anyone. he didn't have any friends, wasn't in any clubs and didn't go to a church of any sort, so he was always alone. of course, nobody knows he's a perverted stalker, but it's easy to tell he doesn't speak to anyone but you.
Naughty: How would they punish their darling?
bayani would never punish you. he thinks you can do no wrong. whether you simply lashed out at someone, or committed a crime, he would always be on your side. even if you were to lash out at him, he'd accept it. he would never blame you, only himself.
Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?
bayani would never harm you in any way because of how much he loves and worships you. he'd never take anything away from you.
Patience: How patient are they with their darling?
bayani would do anything for you, so of course he'd be very patient with you.
Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?
bayani would not be able to live without you. if you left him, he would understand, but be heartbroken. but if you died, he would immediately lock himself in his apartment and refuse to eat or drink anything, and soon succumb to his own death. a life without you is a life he cannot live.
Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?
bayani, again, would not kidnap you. if he did, i can imagine he would feel severely guilty about it. he hates seeing you in pain. if you're in pain, so is he. he would let you go as soon as he knows it's safe for you. hell, he'd want you to be free more than you do.
Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?
like i mentioned before, bayani had a very lonely childhood. his parents weren't present, he had no friends or siblings, so he was left all alone. even when he graduated highschool and was left to live alone with a shitty job, he was still antisocial and had quite a dull life for a few years. that's how he discovered you. he never knew what it was like to love or be loved until he saw you and heard your music for the first time. your performances were a safe place to him. your lyrics were like a warm hug to him. you saved him from his miserable life. he started dedicating his life to you since you were the first person he truly cared about.
Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?
bayani hates to see you in pain. he wishes he could take it all away for you. that's why he's so attentive to your needs, in hopes that he'll never have to see you cry or hear your screams in pain.
Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?
unlike the classic, stereotypical yandere, bayani does not want to inflict harm on anyone unless he has to, and he's a lot clumsier than a usual yandere. he does not want to kill or hurt anyone, but if you really wanted him to, he would. but there's no guarantee that it'll go well, considering how clumsy he is. but he's trying, for you!
Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?
bayani is a worshipper, through and through. you want to leave him? just tell him. he'd be heartbroken, and probably beg you not to leave him, but ultimately he wants you to be happy. however, if he ever kidnapped you, you could escape by distracting him. you could point somewhere in the distance and go "look over there!" and he'd look for a couple seconds, then look back at you- and aw shucks you already ran away
Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?
bayani. would. never. even. dream. of. hurting. you.
Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?
bayani would literally commit war crimes for you if you asked him to. there is nothing he wouldn't do for you. he sees you as a hero that saved him, so he believes he should return the favor by doing anything for you. anything to keep you happy.
Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?
after being your biggest fan and stalker for years, bayani is content with staying that way for the rest of his life. of course he would love to be yours, but he would be happy with simply watching you from afar for as long as he shall live. he would never snap.
Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?
depends on your sanity, and how much you like bayani. if you're okay with his clingy, clumsy, yapping self for the rest of your life, then you'll be fine. but if you'd get sick of never having a lot of alone time, or having a guy that is attached to your hip... then maybe you'd break and he would be incredibly guilty. he would try to apologize by being even closer to you, which would make you feel worse. unless you end things with him, you're stuck forever.
template here
611 notes · View notes
ikeuverse · 2 months
Text
CRIMINAL LOVE — p.sunghoon
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
PAIRING: killer!sunghoon x rich!fem!reader GENRES: angst, smut, maybe fluff WC: 4.6k+
WARNINGS: weapons, drink, drugs, swearing. mention and execution of murder, blood, fights (physical and verbal). unprotected sex (the details of the sex parts i'll add as i post the chapters), but there are more than two, for sure. lmk if i forgot anything else.
SYNOPSIS: paid to kill people, sunghoon finds himself in the biggest dilemma of his life. getting paid the most money his profession has ever given him to kill a woman. but he can't do it because it goes beyond his principles, who has never laid a finger on a woman. what will he do when the twist is right in front of his eyes?
NOTES: i had this initial idea for jay, but i don't know why i thought i'd write it for sunghoon. i've modified a few things and i'm thinking of making it a story with a few chapters. i hope you like it!
TAGLIST: i don't know if i'll do it, but…
masterlist | prologue | part 1 | part 2 [...]
Tumblr media
None of this was new to Park Sunghoon. The eyes stared at him in fear, shining with a pair of panicked features as they begged for their lives. His index finger against the trigger of the gun before he asked to speak his last words and then fired. Seeing the body slowly collapse in front of you, the eyes losing life and the blood dripping through the fabric of the clothes and onto the floor. This was a very familiar scenario, even more so as a hitman.
If anyone ever asked him why he lived this life, the answer would come quickly: easy money.
Sunghoon got used to being on the streets in search of a job to maintain his almost miserable life after the death of his parents. His grandfather, an alcoholic who barely stayed at home, was the only living relative he had. And the only person who could give him a roof over his head at fifteen.
Wandering the streets in search of something solid led Sunghoon to meet all sorts of people and ways of making ends meet. He worked with a bit of everything until he found the job he had settled into today. It was through Jake, one of the first people he befriended, that he learned what it was like to kill for money. His friend's father had a scheme and paid him well enough to eat, dress, and live in his grandfather's house, which he barely saw.
Jake and his father became a family to Sunghoon, even if it was in the worst of environments, but it was the only thing he could get close to that bordered on a good feeling. The boy couldn't call it love because he'd never heard it from any of his friends, although they could say that they respected and cared for each other, but love, for Sunghoon, was too strong.
Who would say about love when, in fact, he was hired to kill? Often people from his own family and for financial reasons. So how could he believe that love existed when his job showed otherwise? Of course, everyone had family problems… Look at him! Sunghoon wasn't the greatest example of this, but come on, he would never have his grandfather or anyone else killed in his own home. It was bizarre, but unfortunately, that's what he dealt with most of the time. And that's what filled his pocket and made him change his life.
Moving into his apartment after his grandfather died, having more contact with Jake and his father about the business, and even getting on a bit more when things started to expand. This was all thanks to Sunghoon's skill and eye for instigating Jake's father to think bigger. It was risky for him to try to suggest that they think big, such as killing some CEO in debt or someone high up.
You've got to be crazy, he heard Jake mutter once, at an informal meeting they had after a successful case. Sunghoon could be crazy, but when it came down to it and money, the highest cases paid well. And that's what he asked Jake's father about until they had their first diplomat client. The amount to be paid was so high that they had never thought of having it in their bank accounts.
"We need to kill about four people to get that" Jake muttered after looking at the amount. A sigh left his father's lips before he agreed.
And so began the great social affair between Jake and Sunghoon – along with Jake's father – for bigger cases with fat sums in their money accounts.
It was dangerous, but Sunghoon lived for it. He didn't have anyone else, he didn't have anything to think about except his well-being and how he could have what he wanted more peacefully after living in poverty for years. He didn't want to go through the insecurity of not having anything to eat, or having to wander the streets looking for something to do or somewhere to stay so that he wouldn't have to be alone in a house where he didn't know who would come back. But now, in his apartment, he shared the peace of knowing that everything was his. Every little thing in there had been earned by him, even if the money wasn't in the cleanest way, but someone had to do that kind of work.
And it wasn't as if Sunghoon would kill just anyone either, he had strict criteria about this that he made very clear to Jake and his father before things got as strong as they are today. Like killing people who had only done some kind of harm to those who had asked for it. Like women who had been beaten by their husbands, or someone in particular who had physically or mentally hurt whoever was hiring the service. Or that person posed a risk to the society in question and they knew that no authority would do anything about it. So they did. And the most important thing of all was that under no circumstances would Sunghoon lay a hand on a woman.
But the universe seemed to play tricks on him that morning, arriving at the office and seeing Jake's eyes light up. It would be pointless to ask why, considering that he was one of the first to receive clients and their proposals, so someone had probably come to Jake to talk to him and give him a huge sum of money.
"Dude, I think we're rich" he threw himself into the leather chair that initially belonged to his father. But as long as the older man didn't arrive at the office, Jake took possession of it until that happened.
"What do you mean?" Sunghoon held back a laugh as he walked a little further into the office, throwing his body into the small armchair opposite the desk Jake was sitting at "A client with good money?"
"Better than that" he sighed, throwing his head back "This client wants to hire our services for two people, but the price is—"
"Jake, spit it out" Sunghoon said quickly.
"Bro, she'll pay two million" he looked directly at Sunghoon. That amount would cheer the boy up if he hadn't heard it before, or even been paid for it "For each of us, and for each of the two people we're going to kill."
Wait, that was new to Sunghoon. Two million for each of them, totaling two people to kill, so… Four million for him, and four million for Jake?
"Man, that's…"
"Insane, I know" Jake interrupted him as if he already knew what his friend was going to say. But something seemed a little off because he didn't have that much energy to say that amount. Normally Jake would have been bouncing around the room literally like a child, totally losing his hitman pose as he commented on the four million that would be playing around in his bank account for the next few weeks.
"What's wrong?" Sunghoon asked at once, noticing the change in his friend's mood as the seconds passed. Jake now looked a little uncomfortable in his father's chair and shifted his body a few times to try to find a comfortable position, opting to lean his elbows on the table and tilt his body a little.
"You know it's four million each, right?" he asked, watching Sunghoon agree "And that the percentage we give my father on each client is very small because, well, he already has a lot of money…"
"Speak up, man. You're stalling on something." Sunghoon wasn't out of patience, but he knew that Jake tended to talk too much when he was nervous. What could have happened to make him like this?
Jake nodded in agreement and continued to lean on the table, leaning towards Sunghoon, who settled into the armchair and imitated his friend's position on the other side. Leaning his elbows on the table and looking at the boy in front of him, who was now looking at his hands.
"A woman wants us to kill her brother and…" Jake slowly closed his eyes "Her niece."
Sunghoon felt a ringing in his ear and then his whole body tensed up. He couldn't explain why he had that reaction, but just mentioning that there was a woman for him to kill made everything seem completely out of place to him.
"You're kidding me, right?" Sunghoon asked.
"I really wanted to, man, I swear" he whined, watching Sunghoon's withdrawal appear little by little as he slid his arms off the table and leaned back in the armchair.
"And what did those two do to make her want to kill two people at once?"
"I don't know" Jake shrugged. "She hasn't told me yet, she's arranged a meeting and my father wants to go along. It's too high…"
"You two do it" he stood up, walking to the middle of the room before he heard Jake calling after him. Without turning around, Sunghoon closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He waited a few seconds before finally turning to his friend.
"I can't do this without you, bro. You know we've been working together forever" Jake began.
"But what are my conditions?" Sunghoon asked, and for a moment he saw a glimmer of regret in Jake's eyes. For mentioning or even thinking that his friend might do this kind of thing. Maybe the money had messed with his head a bit and he wouldn't deny it, but Jake knew Sunghoon well enough, he just wanted to try until he couldn't anymore. Even though he knew it would come to nothing because Sunghoon would never accept.
Silence was Jake's way of responding, not knowing exactly what to say because he knew Sunghoon's terms well. Everyone was aware and in agreement, so why change their minds at that moment?
"I just need your help, then" he said after some quiet time.
"I'm not putting my hands on either of you, be warned," Sunghoon said, a little angry about the whole situation until he saw Jake nod silently, implying that he had nothing more to say.
Then, as if on cue, he left the room and walked around the building in search of something to clear his mind of what had just happened. It was an unimaginable amount for him, but Sunghoon wouldn't go against his principles for it.
For the first time, he had refused something that Jake had asked of him. And he felt immensely awkward about it.
Tumblr media
You could feel the migraine invading you little by little. The side of your head ached like never before, while your eyes stung and you tried your best to pay attention to people and their words of condolence.
It had been a week since your grandfather's death, and the only sincere tears you had seen – apart from your own – were those of your uncle. He was the closest thing to real family you had after your father's death a year ago. Having him around was comforting, especially as your family was driven by money and scandal. Everything revolved around social and financial status. Your grandfather's company was the focal point of all that arrogance in the family members.
But now, with his death and the will read, you had to assimilate that the only beneficiaries were you and your uncle, the one who was still crying over his father's death and trying to understand how it had all happened. And then there was him, a well-groomed gentleman who eschewed the stereotype of the rich old man and business owner who walked around with a glass of whisky in his hand. On the death certificate, his grandfather had died of cirrhosis, but you were surprised. Even though he wasn't a health professional, you could assume that this would be different, to say the least, since the old man had never drunk a drop of alcohol.
“This is terrible for your health” he once said. “Try never to drink more than necessary. And at parties, I promise to serve you the best natural juice.”
Those words always lingered in your mind because your grandfather was serious, in his own right, but he was very loving. You became so attached to him that you took an interest in the affairs of your grandfather’s company with a genuine gesture of helping him, which he appreciated.
Maybe that was what had made him put your name on that paper, inheriting half of the family fortune. While your uncle got the other half.
Millions and millions, or should say billions? It was so much money that you swore you would die and the amount would continue to yield in your account even though you used it almost every day. That was why you knew that some people who had always been there for your grandfather’s money were now furious because they couldn’t enjoy a single cent of it.
“We are so sorry for the loss of your father, Yvone” someone’s voice took you out of your thoughts, making your eyes dart around the people around you. A well-dressed woman with a tired expression was greeting your aunt. She didn’t have a trace of sadness on her face. That stranger seemed sadder than your aunt over the loss of her father.
“I’m sure you are too” she tried to fake a sad voice that you recognized from afar. Your stomach almost churned as she hugged the other woman.
Suddenly, your embarrassment became even greater, because your aunt's gaze was immediately on you. She seemed angry, with something bad inside her that immediately wanted to be directed at you. Your gaze soon turned away from her to try to find your uncle who was desolate.
Your steps through the environment were fast and precise, the sound of leather shoes against the devastated floor was inhibited by the sound of other people's voices and laments. You weren't running, but the things inside your body said very well that you seemed to be in a hurry.
Your eyes quickly spotted your uncle a little further away, sitting on a bench alone outside. You walked a little calmer towards him until you sat next to the man. He didn't need to look up to know that the only person with compassion in that family was you.
"I wish this nightmare would end" he said quietly, a sob breaking out of his voice when your uncle raised his head and continued to look ahead.
"I still can't believe it" you sighed. Your eyes are locked on the events in front of you. Some people were coming and going from your grandfather's mansion with small flowers in their hands or pieces of paper, like written notes of thanks. Of course, he wouldn't read them, he was dead. But it was a way of thanking everyone he knew, and the reading would be up to you and your uncle. The only ones who cared about the sentimental side of things.
"Do you think Yvone hates us now?" your uncle asked, finally looking at you. His eyes looked like they were going to pop out of their sockets and bloodshot from his eyeballs, they were so red. You swallowed a sigh and just nodded.
"For the reading of Grandpa's will? Of course" you laughed humorlessly, listening to him accompany you.
As if summoning a haunting, just saying her name out loud made your aunt's figure appear in the doorway of the mansion. She welcomed people by trying to look sad or convincing whoever was arriving. Her eyes quickly fell on you and your uncle, further away from the house and sitting on a secluded bench. She didn't show any reaction but took her cell phone out of her pocket to do something you didn't even care about. Her attention was on the man next to her.
“I can’t be happy knowing that my father left all this for me and you” he ran his hands through his hair, almost pulling it out if it weren’t for your hands stopping him. You held one of his hands and kept it in your lap.
“It’s okay uncle, I’m not happy about this either” you said. “Money won’t erase anything that’s happening to the two of us, you know that.”
Of course, he knew. You and your uncle could sometimes say that you were born into the wrong family because you were the only ones who didn’t count on money. Even though you knew that your whole life revolved around it. Even though every interaction you had since the day you were born was driven by money. It wasn’t your fault for being born into a family like that, but you could deal with it and think about how you spent what you had.
“How about you come in and get a drink? I bet you’re thirsty” your uncle said quietly, making you look at him after some time of contemplation while still watching people entering and leaving the mansion.
“I think I’ll go in a little while, I want to stay here a little longer” you smiled sadly at the man as he stood up and just waved in your direction. Just as you knew when he wanted some time alone, your uncle was also able to understand when you needed it.
Leaving him and going back into the mansion, you saw him disappear among the little people who had now gone inside the house. You remained there, looking around that immense land that your grandfather owned. One of them, to be more exact. You remember playing with your uncle and your father to guess which was the largest land your grandfather had in his name. Of course, the two older men always let you win, even though it was a rather unfunny game. But it was one of the few moments when the three of you were together, aware of the money you had and trying to make good use of it.
Your body slowly shrank with a small gust of wind, indicating that the weather was changing from sunny to something colder and almost rainy. You looked up at the sky, noticing the clouds beginning to darken. Rain was the last thing you wanted, but maybe you needed it. To wash away all that heaviness you've felt since your grandfather died. Rain could help wash away the dirt that remained beneath your feet and wash away all the bad feelings and burdens you would face in the days to come.
The decision to go back inside wasn't so difficult as your body shrank a little more, curses spilling from your lips as you missed a coat or a blanket that could cover your arms. Just a tank top and silk pants weren't a suitable outfit for the moment, but it was the first thing you could think of to wear when your aunt summoned the whole family to pay homage to your grandfather at his mansion.
You got up from the bench and stretched your whole body, trying to shake off some of the day's exhaustion and thinking about how you wanted to go back to your apartment and take a shower. Get all those sticky, fake hugs off your body. Those words buzzing around in your head lamenting what had happened. No one there really cared, so you at least paid attention to the fake tears in front of you.
You walked in slow steps to the front door, trying to avoid walking in with anyone who might greet you. You didn't want to talk to anyone anymore, just to be there long enough to leave. But your steps were quickly stopped.
Feeling a hand around your waist, you looked up to find your aunt standing in the doorway just as something covered your mouth. It all happened too quickly. Your vision began to blur as you struggled against a body that seemed much bigger than yours. Your hands were useless at grabbing any kind of skin to scratch because the arms holding you were covered.
You don't remember much, but the only thing that didn't leave your mind before passing out was the cynical smile of the woman right in front of you.
Tumblr media
“What did she ask for?” Sunghoon was exasperated, pacing back and forth as he looked at your unconscious body on the other side of the room.
“To torture her and get a video of her saying she wants to pass everything on to her aunt…” Jake began.
“First of all, I never agreed to this” he interrupted his friend, controlling himself as much as possible so as not to scream and wake you up. They had just taken off the masks and all the equipment when they laid you down on the small mattress with almost no foam.
“My dad just asked you to help me bring her in, I know.” Jake sighed. “I don’t want to do this either, but—”
“Dude, listen” Sunghoon looked at him. “We can deny this and say fuck you to those four million. Seriously, there’s no way we can continue.”
The desperation in his voice was completely real, Jake could feel it. He was also desperate about all of this, although it wasn’t something new for either of them. But the cruelty in how his aunt was making requests of them without even knowing them or having finished the job. How demanding she was and how she wanted everything to be done as quickly as possible. Sunghoon never had bad feelings about his work, he just went there and killed whoever was necessary. But as soon as he looked at his aunt through the gap in the mask and noticed her smile, the way she behaved in front of the people who were entering the house, without even noticing that he and Jake were carrying her to a black car with no license plate.
He didn't know what he was doing, he didn't know why he had accepted all of that. Sunghoon was breaking one of his biggest rules and all because of money? Four million wouldn't pay for his principles even if his job was one of the worst possible. He already had too much blood on his hands, but that didn't matter when you had a woman unconscious and almost ready to be killed by Jake.
Arguing with Mr. Sim was out of the question, he had already tried since he received the offer and saw the man's eyes light up at the amount. Even though he knew that Sunghoon's biggest criteria were at stake.
"If you're not going to kill her, at least help Jake bring her here" was the only thing he said after finishing the little discussion he had started. He couldn't win this one, he couldn't deny something that he had at least managed to keep going.
Now here he was, pacing back and forth and going over what your aunt wanted Jake to do to you.
For one lousy moment, Sunghoon felt a twinge of regret and compassion for you. Your calm countenance while you were unconscious and the way you seemed harmless, something clicked in his mind telling him that you weren't as bad as the woman said you were. Maybe she'd done the worst kind of propaganda just to make you look bad enough for them to kill you.
"Sunghoon, hey" Jake called out quickly, taking off his black glove and throwing it on the table "What are we going to do?"
"I already told you," Sunghoon sighed once again, stopping walking and feeling his throat irritated because he had already shouted at Jake the whole way "Let's give up that four million, it's not worth it."
"Is that all I'm worth?"
Sunghoon looked in Jake's direction and they both froze. Eyes wide, breathing almost labored as they searched for something to cover their faces. But it was too late. As soon as Sunghoon crossed the room and focused on you, there you were. You were sitting with your back against the wall, your hands tied by the ribbons perched perfectly on your lap. Your hair was completely messed up, but he could still see every detail of your face. How, even so, you looked very beautiful.
"Shit" Jake cursed softly, turning away while Sunghoon stood there staring at him. He felt his friend pull him a few times so that you wouldn't stare so hard at his face that you wouldn't recognize him if something went wrong. But Sunghoon simply couldn't move.
"It's okay, I've seen you. I've been awake for a few minutes" your voice was hoarse, perhaps from lack of use, and because you tried to scream before Sunghoon put the cloth over your mouth to force you to faint.
Jake hesitated to turn around but did so when he saw that his friend wasn't moving at all.
"If you say anything—" Sunghoon made Jake look like he was speaking rudely when he landed a weak punch on his arm. He didn't know why he was defending you like that, not least because that was Jake's role, to be rude at first and gradually hurt whoever was in front of them.
Knowing this, Sunghoon already sensed that he would start being rude until Jake's hands were on you to hurt you. And he didn't want that.
"What did you hear?" Sunghoon addressed you for the first time. His eyes still glazed over at your completely weak and staggering figure in front of him.
He noticed that your eyes were bright, maybe watery, and if you blinked a little more, tears would fall like waterfalls. He was already weak just knowing that he had done this to you, seeing you cry would do what to him? Sunghoon didn't want to know. That case was getting too emotional.
"Just the four million part" you moaned a little in pain as you moved and felt your back crack. That mattress was terrible and you assumed you'd been on it for a long time, but it wasn't important. Your mind was elsewhere and on how you were here, so before you could even think of anything, you asked "It was her, wasn't it?"
"Her who?" Sunghoon and Jake asked at the same time.
For a long minute, you were quiet, just thinking about the little interactions you had with the woman who was supposed to have done this to you. Your heart ached, that wasn't possible. You never thought she could do that.
"My aunt told you two to kill me," you tried to keep your voice steady, "did I?"
It was the turn of the two boys to be silent right in front of you. Jake moistened his lips and tried to find the words to answer you, pondering whether or not to be rude to you. Not least because he didn't want to be punched again by Sunghoon. He swallowed dryly and looked away a few times, wondering whether or not to tell the truth.
"I triple it."
"What?" Jake raised his voice, echoing throughout the room as he looked in your direction and then at Sunghoon.
"I say I'll triple that amount" you moved again, trying to find a more comfortable position on that shitty mattress that was making all your muscles ache "If you don't kill me."
Jake laughed. Nervously, perhaps, but he tried to look a little more cool as he walked towards you and bent down right in front of you. Knees bent enough to bring him close to your face. If you were in the best condition, you could lift your leg and kick him in the knee, only to stagger and fall backward. But you just wanted answers.
"Do you think we're open to negotiations, princess?" he shifted his gaze between your eyes and your mouth but remained in your gaze, which was still sparkling. Jake didn't want to seem arrogant, but that's how he'd been taught.
That's how he learned to deal with that kind of situation, listening to everything and every possible appeal before doing his job. But he never received a counter-proposal, especially one as high as that.
"I don't think you'll even get paid that four million, actually" you looked at him, your voice becoming more and more shaky, "but since the whole inheritance is with me, I'll triple it if you don't kill me."
For a second Jake looked back to Sunghoon for support at that moment. He knew that his friend would probably accept because it would give him the chance to never lay a finger on you.
"Instead, I want you to kill my aunt."
That turn of events was making Jake and Sunghoon's heads spin. Hearts pounding as you let a single tear fall down your cheek. You tried to look convincing and strong talking to two guys who were about to kill you.
But being able to protect yourself was one of the few things you learned because it wasn't the first time someone had approached you out of interest. So why not use the money you had to your advantage? You never thought you'd be able to do that kind of thing, but you'd try anything to make sure no one killed you.
And if the case was to have those who wanted you dead killed, then you'd start with that.
Tumblr media
© ikeuverse, 2024. do not copy, translate or steal my stories.
785 notes · View notes
just-jordie-things · 6 months
Note
K so like its night time and y/n is cuddling with megumi and yuji barges in and sees them both and is like “You’re cuddling with megumi are you guys dating?! :O” then the next day everyone is just asking you “aRe YoU rEaLlY dAtInG mEgUmI???” By the way i love your posts❤️
megumi is just so perfect for secret dating bc he would beg you to keep your relationship a secret, like, right off the bat. like before you're even official- probably before he's even confessed.
omg.
megumi coming to you in a panic and it worries you bc you don't often see him stressed and the boy looks like he's about to pop a blood vessel and you're being so sweet to him meanwhile he's grabbing you by the hands and making you swear to not speak a word of this to yuji or nobara- and definitely not gojo. poor confused you are like "ok sure but what are you talking about??" oops megumi forgot about the part where he's supposed to tell you how much he likes you and thinks that you should give him a chance at making you happy- but we all know that goes well because you're literally in love with him already adlhgkajflkgh
and for a while you're pretty good at sneaking around, because it's sort of fun actually. every secret look or note passed has your heart racing and you wouldn't have it any other way, as long as you have each other.
but after a few months the two of you get fully settled with one another and you start to slip up. with megumi pulling your chair out for you or holding the door for you but not the others, you start to get a few questioning looks. and you might have called him megs in front of the others one time- he might not forgive you for that one because now everyone calls him that to get on his nerves... oops.
it's not like either of you are trying to get caught, you both enjoy the benefits of dating in secret so much, you don't necessarily want to give that up. the others will definitely berate and interrogate you one day for keeping your relationship a secret for so long, but... it's just so nice.
"maybe we tell them when we graduate?" you hum, trying to brainstorm with your boyfriend to find the proper way to break the news.
megumi's chest rumbles under your cheek when he groans. if it were up to him, no one would ever know. surely he could have a successful relationship with you that way, right? it's been easy enough to cover it up so far, surely you could elope and build a life together in secret as well? shit, would gojo take it personally if he didn't tell him he was getting married? suddenly his mind is swarming with what a secret private wedding would look like, meanwhile you're laying against him in sielnce waiting for his response.
"megs..?" you call softly, trying to draw him out of his thoughts.
"maybe we fake our deaths. relocate. how's italy sound?"
you chuckle, tilting your head back to peer up at him.
"you're afraid of gojo, aren't you?" you hum knowingly. megumi glances down at you briefly, looking away as soon as you wiggle your eyebrows. you chuckle again.
"i'd be open to other places, too" he continues his thought.
"i think we should just rip it off like a bandaid," you ignore his getaway plan. "tell them we're together and have been all year. then if they have questions-"
"i'm not answering their questions" his voice is a mere whisper, as not to disturb the calming atmosphere you've created, but his words are final. you tap your finger against his chest a few times.
"i'll answer the questions then, you can just... stand there"
"do i even have to be there?"
"i don't think they'll believe me if you aren't" you giggle at the idea of trying to convince them that yes that stoic moody boy is actually a complete romantic towards you and you never thought a love like yours could be possible.
"are you saying our friends don't think i'm boyfriend material?" he asks, and you know he's baiting you, but you're honest with him anyways.
"that's exactly what i'm saying," you say, grinning up at him despite the scowl of fake hurt on his face. "but i know otherwise"
"fine. we'll tell them. and then you can answer the questions. and i'll... be there. for emotional support"
you giggle some more, tucking yourself further against him while he stares at the ceiling in despair. he already knows all of the questions your friends are going to ask and he can't help but dread them in advance. still, it will be nothing compared to the interrogation he'll surely receive from his guardian, later, when you aren't around to protect him (and his dignity)
"it'll be nice to be able to just say we're going on a date instead of you faking to be sick and me pretending i'm on an assignment. sneaking around was fun and all but..." you trail off, and megumi averts his gaze from the plain ceiling, peeking down at you where you nuzzle into the soft fabric of his sweatshirt. he knows you're going to fall asleep on him, because you always do, but he doesn't mind. even if it makes his arm fall asleep. "i don't want to hide how much i love you anymore"
and then his escape plan sounds silly when you put it like that. so he hugs you tighter against him as you start to drift off- he can tell as your head feels a little heavier against his collar- and he brushes his lips over the crown of your head.
"i love you too, sweetheart," he murmurs. "we'll tell them as soon as you want"
he just wasn't expecting the moment to be ruined by his door slamming open and your friends inviting themselves in, only to be shocked at the scene they interrupted.
queue the noisy accusations and questions. megumi tries not to say i told you so as you tiredly sit up and rub your eyes so you can answer all of your friends' curiosities, while he pulls the blanket over his head and tries to pretend he wasn't there.
of course he doesn't want to hide that he loves you... but for fucks' sake do they have to do this here and now????
726 notes · View notes
rockrosethistle · 8 months
Text
I actually fucking hate Mr. Jägerman here's why
Mr. Jägerman is a character in the Hatchetfield universe who is never onstage and only mentioned in 1 (one) line. This was enough to ignite my rage.
Tumblr media
It's because in this one line, so much is revealed about Max's character. So let's dissect that.
Max is mean. We know this. The very first thing established about him is how threatening he is. But I think his character often gets lost in the 'bully' identity, because just like every other Hatchetfield character, he is layered and complex.
We also find out two other things about him pretty much immediately: He has a crush on Grace (we'll come back to that) and he needs to feel in control.
There's a lot of evidence to support this. He repeatedly refers to himself as the 'god' of Hatchetfield High. He creates arbitrary rules around who his friends can date. He creates arbitrary rules around where the nerds are 'allowed' to go. And the moment someone implies he is not as powerful as he thinks he is, he retaliates violently.
This isn't just Max being a jerk. These are all signs of someone who is almost certainly deprived of control in their home life, which forces them to find it elsewhere. Max likely has little to no say in what happens to him at home. He's clinging to a sense of control wherever he can find it. And that line basically confirms that his home isn't a safe place for him.
Back to the crush on Grace, when you look objectively at the actions Max takes in the show, you'll find that he's not really a bad person, he's a mean person. He's a little shit that processes his need for control in the entirely wrong way, but people are shaped by their surroundings. The actions that come from him are different.
His crush on Grace only supports this. Every other bully in every piece of media sees the girl they like and whistle and say "yo lemme hit that." And if the girl rejects them, they resort to "tease bitch." Not Max. The first thing he does is start a conversation with her, laughs at (what he thinks is) a joke, then offers to carry her books. Like, I wish my highschool bullies were that nice to their own girlfriends.
When she rejects him, it's true that he continues to pursue her and calls her "dirty girl," but that once again comes back to his need to feel in control. But he doesn't get aggressive, he doesn't do anything that screams 'bully.'
We don't get a lot of scenes with pre-ghost Max. But when we do, they're interesting to analyze. Like, have you ever noticed that when he finds Steph in the Waylon Place, his very first instinct is to tell her, "Get behind me, I'll protect you" from, as far as he knows, actual ghosts? He feels like his life is in danger, but he's still putting Steph's safety first, despite having no interest in her romantically. That's huge.
There's even some evidence to support that Max terrorizing the nerds is, from his perspective, not so one-sided. When he finds out they were the ones who pulled the pranks, he says "I thought you guys hated me."
And he's open to change. He's not stubborn, he's not brutal. He doesn't continue hating the nerds just because it is what it is. Moments before his death, he is showing signs of opening up to them, and actually seems like he's coming around.
And none of this is meant as trying to defend Max's actions. I know he's the antagonist. I know he treats people unfairly. But all of this has to come from somewhere. I'm trying to say that there was clearly a foundation of a good person underneath all that cruelty. So what toughened his shell?
Mr. Jägerman. Max reveals in that one line that if he were to go back home from the 'party', his dad would call him a 'little cuck.' "can't even fight off one lousy skele'uhn." In this, he reveals his dad is demeaning to him. He's the kind of man who would hear that his son was in a life-or-death situation, and instead of comforting him, he would have made fun of him.
What must that do to a person? As someone who grew up in a home where Dad wasn't always a safe person to be around, I know that when I was younger, a lot of my bad bad behaviours were something I learned from him.
The prank meant to scare Max was the nicest thing anyone's ever done for him.
I think a lot of what happens in NPMD is indirectly Mr. Jägerman's fault. "Knowledge is knowing Frankenstein is the doctor, wisdom is knowing Frankenstein is the monster" type of shit. It is directly because of his actions and the way he treated his own child that any of this happened.
or maybe I'm reading too much into this. But I fucking hate Max's dad so much.
548 notes · View notes
ruthlessrps · 2 months
Text
𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐍𝐄𝐘'𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 (𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟕) 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒. - feel free to make any adjustments as necessary!
"what is the measure of a true hero?"
"will you listen to him?"
"lighten up, dude."
"i'll take it from here, darling."
"it was a nasty place."
"behave yourself."
"look how cute he is."
"he's strong. like his dad."
"keep those away from the baby."
"let the kid have a little fun."
"is this an audience or a mosaic?"
"there's the little sunspot."
"i regrettably have a full time gig."
"you'll work yourself to death."
"i know you know."
"did you cut your hair or something? you look fabulous."
"my fate is in your lovely hands."
"okay, fine, fine. i'm cool, i'm fine."
"how do you kill a god?"
"perhaps they've answered our prayers."
"that boy is a menace."
"he's too dangerous to be around normal people."
"he didn't mean any harm. he's just a kid."
"i'm warning you. keep that freak away from here."
"you shouldn't let those things they said back there get to you."
"i try to fit in, i just can't."
"i feel like i really don't belong here."
"i have often dreamed of a far-off place."
"this is where i'm meant to be."
"i know every mile will be worth my while."
"i would go almost anywhere to feel like i belong."
"it's the symbol of the gods."
"you're old enough now to know the truth."
"how do you become a true hero?"
"i will please the gods."
"you sure this is the right place?"
"haven't you ever had a dream?"
"come inside. i want to show you something."
"every single one of those bums let me down."
"dreams are for rookies."
"i'm different from those other guys."
"i'm too old to get mixed up in this stuff again."
"i'm down to one last hope."
"you're not exactly a dream come true."
"you'll have to do."
"now that's more like it!"
"you want a road test? saddle up, kid."
"not so fast, sweetheart."
"i'm a damsel, i'm in distress, i can handle this."
"what are you doing? get your sword."
"a hero's only as good as his weapon."
"is wonderboy here for real?"
"at least i beat him, didn't i?"
"did they give you a name along with all those rippling pectorals?"
"are you always this articulate?"
"who are you calling a rodent?"
"he comes on with his innocent farm boy routine, but i can see through that in a new york minute."
"people here are nuts because they live in a city of turmoil."
"it seems to me that what you folks need is a hero."
"i have this terrible fear of heights."
"try to be a little bit more careful next time."
"i don't think we covered this one in basic training."
"you gotta admit - that was pretty heroic."
"he was so hot steam looked cool."
"everybody's got a weakness."
"there is nothing you can't do."
"it's great to see you. i missed you."
"you sound like you could use a break."
"i didn't know playing hooky could be so much fun."
"wonderboy, you are perfect."
"when i was a kid i would've given anything to be exactly like everybody else."
"you're the most amazing person i've ever met."
"when i'm with you i don't feel so alone."
"i would never ever hurt you."
"let's both do ourselves a favour and stop this."
"that's it. next time, i drive."
"no man is worth the aggravation."
"get yourself another girl. i'm through."
"i can't believe you're getting so worked up about some guy."
"people are gonna get hurt, aren't they?"
"now you know how it feels to be just like everyone else."
"i know what i did was wrong, but this isn't about me."
"if you don't help him now, he'll die."
"people always do crazy things when they're in love."
258 notes · View notes
patrophthia · 2 years
Text
love is sour grapes | theo. nott
Tumblr media
pairing: theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader
genre: fluff, angst (if you squint), unrequited love but not really, everyone is an idiot, self indulgent, not beta read.
word count: 5.9K
originally posted on ao3 on: 06/28/2022
"Uhm— would you like to—"
He turned to me calmly, the rest of his appearance devoid of emotions.
"—go out sometimes?" I finished. "As a Date?"
One, two, three beats passes and all Theodore did was look at me. No answer. No emotions. No words. Nothing.
Or Theodore is a quiet piece of shit and that leads to miscommunication and complicated feelings
Tumblr media
Theodore Nott. The one constant thought that has been running through my head way too often for my liking. He was handsome, quiet, smart, lanky in all the right ways and never seemed to be engaged in a conversation —or at least one where he was talking instead of just listening and listening and listening.
Talking to him had always been one of my goals, it shouldn't have, really, it shouldn't. But somehow I had found myself more than just infatuated with him. 
Theodore was an observant person, if he noticed me studying him, he never confronted me about it. 
But, as my friend says it, Theodore Nott is sour grapes. Or, in better words, love is sour grapes. If this even was love that is. 
"I think you should just talk to him," Hermione says kindly. "I still don't think that he would be good for you but if you fancy him that much then go ahead." 
"If you want a death wish that is," Ron snickered. "Honestly, can't you have picked a better guy to fancy? I mean— Nott? Of all people."
"Do you want me to fancy Malfoy instead? Would that make you happy," I quipped, hearing Hermione hide a laugh between closed lips. "Or god forbid, you." 
Ron face contorted to one of offense. "I'm notthatbad." 
"Yeah sure," I murmured, with no malice. And turned to Harry who had been quiet about the situation ever since he found out. "What do you think?" 
Harry shrugged, looking startled. "I don't know," He said first, and then. "I think you need someone better than Nott. You're friendly and thoughtful—" he paused hesitantly. "—and you're quite awfully pretty." 
"Thank you, Harry." My eyes fell downwards with no real intention. I was none of those things. "But I don't think he'd agree." 
"What does it matter if he agrees," Hermione said loudly. "Harry's right. You're all of those things. It's his loss if he doesn't go out with you. You're fit, incredibly so. I would be happy if someone like you were to ever fancy me."
If Ron had a reaction to those words, neither Hermione nor Harry noticed. 
"Well," I said as a group of Slytherin walked into the Potions classroom. Potions would be starting any minute now, and I needed to head into class before Snape does. "I'll keep that in mind. If all fails, I'll just have to marry you, Mione." 
With a final smile, I bid them a quick goodbye and made my way into class. The three of them heading to which ever direction they needed to be. 
The class quickly starts, and Snape wasted no time in assigning me a potion to make. Invigoration Draught. The potion that energizes the drinker. How fun.
The ingredients were mostly easy to obtain. Peppermint, Honeywater, Stewed Mandrake then there's Dried billywig sting: my biggest nightmare.
I was only so tall and the shelves where the ingredients were stored stood so so high. I would've used a stool had it been free to use, but a Slytherin had already been occupying it and it would be rude if I were to take it away from them.
There was a cough behind my back, and then, a hand reached; over me and towards the exact thing I needed. Dried billywig sting: my new biggest enemy.
The person pulled back —jar filled with billywig in hand, and stood still as I turned to them. The jar had a decent amount of billywig in it, if they needed it I could still manage to ask for just enough for my potion. That is if they were kind enough to let me have some.
"Could I—" I paused mid-turn. There stood Theodore Nott in all his glory. Dark eyes, dark hair and facial features that looked like every part of him was chosen by Aphrodite herself, watching me with a raised eyebrow. "—uhm, could I have a few of those? I needed it for my potion but I couldn't reach it."
Theodore blinked once, looking unfazed and handed the jar over.
I blinked twice the time he did, opening up the jar; intending on taking out a few and handing it back over when he stopped me.
"I don't need it."
His voice.
"You don't?" I find myself asking, trying not to breathe too loud or to forget how to even breathe in the first place.
Theodore shook his head once. And reached up for something else. Had he seen me struggle and had gotten it just for me?
"Thank you," I tell him. Theodore nodded once, accepting it as it is. I think you should just talk to him. Goddamn it, Granger. "Uhm— would you like to—"
He turned to me calmly, the rest of his appearance devoid of emotions.
"—go out sometimes?" I finished. "As a Date?"
One, two, three beats passes and all Theodore did was look at me. No answer. No emotions. No words. Nothing.
Whether he was scrutinizing me or not, I didn't know. What I do know is that I was wrong and stupid. And my friends were wrong too.
He needed more than me. I might be friendly and kind and maybe quite awfully pretty. But Theodore needed more than me.
"You know what." I cleared my throat, smiling. "Forget I said anything. Have a good day, Nott."
•••
I had been down lately. My friends noticed that. Even Harry and Ron noticed it and they were as daft as they come. Whenever they asked me what was wrong I find myself telling them that I was just stressed over my O.W.Ls.
Which I was. But it was mostly a lie to cover up something I was more upset about. I had idiotically asked Theodore out and now I have to face the consequences of being rejected.
I think —in some ways— him having not even say 'no' or have given a clearer answer was more upsetting then if he had just said no out loud.
It was stupid of me to get my hopes up and think that anything else would've happened. It was stupid for me to even think I was in his league.
It was also late. I hated walking back to the common rooms in these hours but it was my fault for procrastinating my essay until the night before it was due so I had to rush the entire thing in an hour in the library. I had only hoped that Umbridge wouldn't punish me for being out pass curfew.
I had one more hall left to turn before I reached the Hufflepuff's barrels when someone shouted out my surname, halting me in my place.
Fast pace footsteps approached and then, donning from head to toe in pink was Umbridge. Fuck.
"What do you think you're doing out of your dorm at this time?" She asked quickly, her toad like face twitching with irritation.
"I was in the library and lost track off time," I quickly confessed. "I'm so sorry. My dorm's close by and I—"
"It was my fault professor." His voice. "I’d asked for her help and lost track of time. She was trying to head back before curfew but it seems like her efforts were to no avail. I can only hope you would excuse her and blame me for my faults."
Umbridge looked baffled. He talked? Theodore talked? She made that annoying noise that she can't seemed to get rid off. "Well." her voice laced with false kindness.
"I see no point in deducting any points." She then turned to me. "But I will be expecting to see you tomorrow for separating yourself from help at a time as late as this. Merlin knows, it's dangerous for a girl to wander alone at this time."
"Just me?" I asked, slightly confused.
Her eyes flashed with annoyance. "Do you expect Mister Nott here to be punished for wanting to make sure you got back to your dorm safe?"
That wasn’t what he— okay. Fine. Whatever.
"Now, go off," she said with a wave of her hand. "And Theodore, would you be so kind as to walk her back? I don't want to know the troubles she might cause when I let her out my sight."
Theodore nodded, doing as he was told and took a step forward. He looked behind his shoulders, his eyes meeting mine and tilted his head slightly: signaling that we should leave now before it gets worse.
I avoided Umbridge's eyes and stepped forward, trailing after Theodore. Detention. All because I was too lazy to finish my essay any other time I had.
I think I feel my eyes water. I think it feels harder to breathe. I don't know for sure how I feel exactly despite dejected and disappointed with myself.
If I had just made one different choice, I wouldn't have to have detention with the one professor known to physically harm the students. And to top it off, being walked back to my common room by the boy who recently rejected me whilst bottling up my feelings about everything I did wrong.
"You don't have to actually walk me back." I paid no heed to the crack of my voice. Theodore does though. "It's late." I pointed out the obvious. "You should go."
Theodore glanced at me quickly. His look was so quick that I suspected he had planned to only spare me a second of his time. But something about me, something about how vulnerable I must've looked, had him pausing.
"I shouldn't." He said slowly, his tone so attentively that it made me think that he had saw something in me that I never did. "I can't leave you."
"You can." I don't think I can handle being near him any longer, not when he was studying me so cautiously. "It's only a few steps away, I can assure you I'll be fine."
Theodore eyes flickered down the corridor quickly, finally tearing themselves away from me and looked forward, continuing towards the direction of my common room.
When we finally reached where we needed to be. Theodore stood back watching as I tapped the barrels carefully.
I looked over my shoulder once the path opens up. Smiling slightly when I found his eyes on me. "Thank you for taking the blame, Theo. You didn't have to and you did and spared me way too many house points. I really appreciate it."
He made a noise of acknowledgment, taking my word as it is. And then, as he was about to step away. "Goodnight."
•••
I think I hate life. I might be wrong but life sucks. Especially when you have to repeatedly write the same sentence over and over again with a magic quill that tears through your skin.
That can't have been a legal source of punishment but Umbridge made the rules so it was no use fighting her about it.
My hand hurts. Holy fuck, does it hurt. I don't even have to glance down at it for me to see my skin burning red, bleeding slightly. Curved out in the sentence. I will not be out pass curfew. 
"You alright there?" Came a voice. 
I looked up quick and abruptly, sure that I'll get whiplash from my actions; to find George Weasley watching me with interest. I smiled, subconsciously hiding away my hand. "I'm fine." 
"You sure?" He followed up. "You don't look too good."
I nodded, trying to look as reassuring as possible. "I'm fine, just got a paper cut is all." 
He fixes me a look of disbelief but let it slides. "You should go," he said with a small smile. "I think Ron's looking for you? Something about slimey snakes and what not." 
"Oh." The sound slipped out. "Thank you, I'll go find him." 
It was weird to see George without Fred but I decided that I didn't want to know why. They were probably setting up a prank and I had walked right through it. 
Bidding George a goodbye. I continued down the corridor, turned the corridor and found the trio standing by with Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott by their sides. This can't be good. 
Is this what George referred to when he said Ron was looking me about some slimey snakes? 
"There she is," Malfoy said with mild annoyance. "We've been looking for you." 
"You have?" My eyes drifted to Hermione but she only shrugged, looking as clueless as I was. "Why?" 
Malfoy took a steps towards me. "You've been with Professor Umbridge?" 
"Yes." I nodded. "Why?" 
"Did she give you the quill?" 
What was he playing at? Why was he interrogating me? "Yes." I repeated. "Why?" 
Zabini rolled his eyes and step up, seemingly having enough of Malfoy's dramatics. "Here." He handed out a bottle. "It's Murtlap essence. Suppose to help you with the cuts. Nott made it for you." 
"He did?" I asked, taking the bottle of Murtlap essence from Zabini's hand. I turned to look at Theodore, finding his eyes glued to my bleeding hand that was grasping the bottle. Jerking my hand back, I smiled, thanking him. "Thank you for this, I really appreciate and for uhm— thanks again for covering for me last night." 
Everyone —all but Theodore and I— brows raised upwards, surprised. So they didn't know about what had happened last night.
Theodore showed no outwards reaction, having just watch me with a straight face and patient eyes. Then he turned to Zabini and tilted his head slightly. Zabini seemingly understood, slapped a hand over Malfoy's shoulder and with a goodbye, steered the blond boy away. 
"Bloody hell," Ron said exasperatedly. "Did that really happen?" 
"Nott made you Murtlap essence?" Hermione asked more to herself than anyone else. "How did he even know you needed it?" 
"I—" I stopped, glancing at my hand. "—I was out pass curfew and Umbridge caught me. Nott took the blame for it. I think Umbridge was too surprised with hearing him talk to properly acknowledge that he too was out of the dorms pass curfew. She said she won't take away any house points but gave me detention as a punishment." 
"That's all?" Hermione said. "Why would Nott take the fall for it and then proceed to make Murtlap essence for you if there wasn't anything in it for him?" 
"I don't know," I told her, shrugging. "He also walked me back to my common room and wouldn't leave me when I insisted otherwise." 
"Do you think." Ron started. "Maybe that Nott fancies you?" 
"No." I was quick to shake my head in disagreement. "He's doesn't. He's made that clear already." 
"He has?" Harry asked loudly, brows knitted together. 
"Yeah," I murmured. "That day I talked to the three of you. I asked him during class if maybe we could go out on a date sometimes and he didn't say anything. Not a yes. Not a no. Nothing." 
"That's terrible," said Hermione sympathetically. "Honestly, what kind of person rejects someone then proceed to do things as if they cared for them." 
"Hermione," said Harry cautiously, eyes shifting between me and her. "I don't think that does anything to soothe her nerves." 
"Sorry." Hermione blinked in realization. "It's just— you deserve better. I don't understand a thing Nott's doing and I don't want you to get hurt in the process." 
"He could be figuring out his feelings," Ron suggested making Hermione shoot a sharp glare his direction. Ron tsked. "I'm just pointing it out." 
"Well it's not helping." Hermione said in an obvious tone. Her eyes drifted down to my hand, scanning the words then looked back up. "I think you should head back and take care of your hand. You don't want it to scar now, do you?" 
I nodded, waving. "I'll see you at dinner?"
Hermione let out an agreeing hum and went on her way, Ron pestering her from behind. Harry hadn't moved though, looking at me with furrowed brows. "Could I maybe have some of your Murtlap essence?"
"Yeah." I handed it over. "I didn't know you had to endure Umbridge as well."
"Didn't think it was important to mention." He pulled out an empty ink pot from his bag and twisted it open, pouring just enough essence to not overflow it. Harry put the cap back on and handed it back over. "Don't tell Hermione or Ron, will you? I don't want to be a bother." 
" 'course." I smiled. "I won't tell anyone." 
•••
What are the chances that I get caught being out pass curfew twice in the same week. Pretty fucking high because I was once again being called out late at night. 
Two sets of foot steps stops before me and it took me roughly five seconds to realize just how grave the situation was. Draco Malfoy stood tall and smug with Hannah Abott by his side looking tired —if a little irritated by Malfoy's presence. 
"What are you doing out, badger?" Malfoy asked. 
"I was heading back from the kitchens." Malfoy made a face and glanced down at my outfit that looked way too overdressed to be heading down to the kitchens. 
"Are you sure?" 
"Yes." It was clear that I was caught in a lie. Goddamn you, Radiohead concert. "I must've lost track of time." 
Hannah looked like she wanted to say something but bit her tongue. Not wanting any of her words to be counted as it being biased just because I was her dorm mate. 
And then, as I waited to hear Malfoy state just how many points he wanted to take away from my house. He said with annoyance, "you can go." Unfazed to the look of surprise that showed up on both mine and Hannah's faces. "Tell Nott he owes me one." 
•••
I don't think my head could —or will ever fully comprehend "tell Nott he owes me one." I don't know why exactly but that sentence feels way more ominous than it ought to be. 
ott does not owe him anything for letting me go. 
And I don't think I owe Nott anything for helping me be let go? maybe I could've phrased that better. What I meant to say is that: I owe Nott nothing for his friend's behavior towards me. At least I don't think I do. 
But things works in mysterious way. Like how —despite how ironic I find it— Nott always find out a way to help me out during potions. Especially when it came to the ingredients. 
Though that was the least of my concerns right now. My concern, for now, is revolved between the three books in my hand that I can't decide —for the life of me— which one to buy. 
On other occasions I would buy all three and went about my day but I had only brought enough money for one book and food for the rest of the day at Hogsmeade, and my friend didn't seem like they'd be heading back to Hogwarts for extra cash any time soon. 
I looked over my options once more, trying to figure out which one would be the bang of my buck. 
Option one: All Or Nothing, a novel about a girl trying to navigate relationships with the people she surrounded herself with and see whether they would react differently when she gave them her all, and then; how they would react when she gave them nothing. 863 pages. 
Option two: Glimpse Of Us, a novel about a boy who always —and I mean always, sees his ex in the girls he dates after her. 295 pages. 
Option three: Listen boy, a cheesy novel about a girl who had little to no interest when it comes to going on dates with guys but when her roommate compliments her on the socks she wore, she finds herself wanting to do nothing but go on dates with them. 530 pages. 
Both Glimpse Of Us and All Or Nothing seems like sad book. Maybe it's time for me to find some joy in my life —which seems to seize to exist after whatever happened between me Nott happened. As I turned, intending to put those two books back in their respective places. I was more than surprise to find Nott looking at me with a slight fascinated tilt to his head.
“Which is it?”
"Hmm?" I find myself humming. Should I pick All Or Nothing instead? Wouldn't that make me seem more intelligent than a book about a girl being in love with her roommate. 
"Which one have you chose?" He clarified, and I might've imagined it —no I definitely did because, Theodore Nott's lips did not just curve up at all. 
"This one." I lifted up whatever was in my right hand which just happens to be Listen boy. And there goes sounding more intelligent in front of Theodore. "It seems cute." 
"Is that all?" He followed up and it's then that I realize he was wearing a forest green that had no reasons to make him look as good as it did. Green really was his colour. "Nothing more?"
"No." I shook my head. "Ideally I would like two get these two as well," I told him truthfully. "But I only brought enough for one —technically two, if I stretched it out but that would mean no snacks for the rest of the day so it's a no." 
"I'll get it for you then," he says casually. Like it's something you say to someone you recently rejected. Like he was walking around, waiting for someone to tell him that they haven't brought enough cash for the other books they wanted. "Would you like anything else? I am more than willing to indulge you." 
"No, I don't." I stop myself. Yes, I mean. Because I really did want other books, especially if someone else was paying for it but I know that my poor heart cannot handle it. 
It is already breaking apart at how handsome he looked with his forest green jumper and black ironed pants. His hair, a usual dark brown, just the slightest tinge brighter under the sunlight (which is both a sight for sore eye and a rare view since I only ever see him in the dungeons, hunched over a bubbling pot and disgusting lightings) which flatters him in all the best way possible. 
And no, my heart is not picking up a million paces over I am more than willing to indulge you in that very tone of voice, in that very set of clothes, in very set of lighting, by that very Slytherin that I could not seem to get over.
"You don't have to," I insisted, trying to not shiver under his gaze. He narrows his eyes and it says way more than words could ever say. He knows he doesn't, he wants to. Oh lord save me. "Maybe this one? It's cheaper." 
"That was not my question," he said curtly. "I asked you if you'd like anything else, not which option was cheaper."
What are we even talking about now? Was he planning on buying me the three books in my hands and more or was he planning on letting me pay for my choice then pay for the others I couldn't afford. 
Is my face that much of an open book? Because, without even having to say it. Theodore had already answered my questions for me. "I'll buy you the three in your hands and anymore you'd like. I'd buy you the whole store if you wanted me to." 
I think I'm having a heart attack. Or dreaming. Or both. I can't tell. Maybe I'm dreaming while having a heart attack? Who knows. All I know is that Theodore Nott did not just say that. Did he? 
"No." I shake my head quickly, maybe even too quickly. "No, I— these three are more than enough. I promise to pay you back when we get back to school."
Theodore fixes me a look. One ridiculing me to the point that I wished —more than anything— that I was a bludger being hit so hard I pass through the most oblivious of oblivions. I'm so sure that that would be less stressful. 
"I mean it!" I press all three books to my side. "I promise, and I always keep my promise. I won't take advantage of your money, I will get it and find you as soon as I—"
I didn't see the point in finishing my words because he was smiling. And laughing. I think. It's a mixture of those two and it's so heavenly that I believe in everything ethereal alike. 
Theodore noticed my silence, the side of his lips curved the slightest bit (so so small and tiny that you couldn't even spot it), looking at me with clearly amused eyes. And then, "did you not hear me?" 
"What?" The words slipped out easily. 
"I told you I'd buy you the whole store if you'd like and you think I'd want my money back?" He said slowly. "I couldn't care less about the money. I just wanted to make you happy. Salazar knows, I've made you upset more often than I could count between my fingers." 
Now what the fuck was he on about. He has never made me upset —save for rejecting me that one time,  but I understood it, he didn't like me, that's that. I have gotten over. I think. But I'm more than sure that I could count that one event between his ten fingers.
Unless Theodore only had one finger? Does he? I cast a glance down to his hands and there are those ten fingers. Ten exactly. Not one short or one more. Ten and a couple of silver bands that made me want to do nothing but sit and stare at his long, pale, slim fingers. And how they would feel around my— nope, nope. Absolute not. 
"Merlin, we leave Nott alone and he goes around trying to find his girlfriend." Girlfriend? 
When the owner of the voice, Zabini, finally arrives before me and Theodore, I was no where near surprised to see the other Slytherins in their group by his side. 
Parkinson. Malfoy. And finally, Greengrass —whom I was actually friends with. 
"Well?" Zabini muttered, eyes shifting between me and Theodore, and then landing on him solely. "Are the pair of you planning on standing here the whole day?" 
"No," I said with narrowed eyes. "I don't know what he's doing here, I'm just trying to buy a book." 
Zabini raised a brow. "Is that all, princess?" 
"Pretty much." This feels like a trap. Is this a trap? "Are you planning on going somewhere with Theo?" 
"Theo," Zabini tsked with a smirk. "I've never once called him that and I've known him for about five year now. How cute is that." 
Yep. This is definitely a trap. I think I'm going to die now. 
Theodore, with a roll of his eyes, made his way to my side and pried at the books pressed to my waist. Confused, and a little daze at the warmth of his fingers grazing my hip, I let go of the three books and watched him with wide eyes. 
He seemed (and looked) unaffected by how everyone eyes were now on him. Walking around and picking another set of the exact books I'd picked out. Theodore paid for them without a word, asking for separate bags and handed a set over to me. 
And then, quietly he says. "Zabini's an idiot." He smiled a winsome one and I am so sure I'm dying and this —whatever this was— is just a figment of my imagination that my brain curated during my dying breath. "I like it. Don't ever stop calling me Theo." 
•••
Blaise Zabini is trying to be matchmaker. I'm sure of it. Or else he wouldn't be bothering me as much as he did now. I can't seem to peacefully spend time in the library without being interrupted by him. 
"Hello," he greeted, smiling as he sat opposing me. I raised an eyebrow and he was able to read me quick enough, telling me the reason he was here. "Just wanted to let you know that Nott finished those three novels he bought and he's looking for someone to talk it over with a cup of tea —or coffee, whichever one you prefer." 
Is he implying what I think he's implying? "Why is that any of my concerns." 
"I thought you might be interested." He shrugged. "Since you know, you fancy Nott and all." 
"I don't fancy Nott." I told him. An obvious lie, and Zabini knew that too. "And he doesn't fancy me so it's just a waste of time." 
"Nott doesn't fancy you?" He's laughing. He's actually laughing. What was so funny about the truth? "What makes you think that?" 
"He literally turns me down I when I asked him out," I said blankly. "It's pretty clear, isn't it?" 
"And what exactly did he say?" Zabini asked playfully, as if he was humoring me. 
"Nothing," I answered. "He just looked at me and said nothing, I don't think I need anything else to tell me that it's an obvious no." 
"Nothing?" Zabini repeated with a grin. "Have you heard of being speechless? Or better yet, you know Nott doesn't really speak right?" 
"That doesn't excuse him saying nothing when I asked him to go on a date," I countered.
"It doesn't," Zabini concurred. "But Nott's an idiot." Funny, Theodore said the exact same thing about Blaise. "Did you know Nott did Malfoy's work for a week without complain just because he let you go that one time you snuck out?" 
No. I don't say. Malfoy did say Nott owe him one but I hadn't thought it important. "What does that have anything to do with what you were talking about?" 
"Because," he says exaggeratedly. "Nott fancies you back. I suspected that he liked you since third year though he won't admit it. He won't even admit that he fancies you now but he's incredibly easy to read." 
I shut my book and looked at him. Really looked at him. Trying to gauge whether he was messing with me or telling the truth. "What am I supposed to do with this information?" 
"Ask him out again," he suggested lightly. "Give him another chance for being the biggest twat there is."
"And have him reject me again?"
"He won't," Zabini says calmly. "He'd burn the entire school down before even thinking of rejecting you." 
I hesitate. "I don't want to embarrass myself again."
"You won't," he says with a roll his eyes. "Look I know being rejected is hard, I think I get it. I've never been rejected before. But I also know that the both of you like each other just as much and it's getting tiring seeing you beat around the bush." 
"Nott won't make the first move. He thinks you hate him now for not answering when you ask so you'd have to ask again —if you still want to be with him that is. Do you? Or else I've been doing all this for nothing." 
Yes. I think. I'm pretty sure that I want to be with him. "Do you know where he is?" 
"Oh," Zabini said delightedly. "He's actually coming here right now. I told him I was coming to find you but never gave him a reason why. He'd be here any —speaking of the devil. Hello, Theo."
Theodore doesn't bother to return his greeting. Eyes heavily set on Zabini in a glare that had me shivering just from the side lines. Then his eyes turn to me and his glare on hardens. 
"Hi, Theo." I don't think I've ever since Theodore like this before. "What are you doing here?" 
"What did he do?" He asked instead. 
"Nothing," I said quickly. "He did nothing. We just talked." 
"About?" 
"Stuff."
"Stuff?" 
"Yes. Stuff." 
"What kind of stuff?" 
"Oh you know," I huffed. "The weather. Coffee. You." 
"Me?" 
"Yes." My lips fold itself into a thin line. "Actually Theo. Could I ask you something?" 
His gaze softens when he nods.I am more than willing to indulge you.I am so sure now, more than ever, that love really is sour grapes. 
"Uhm— would you like to—"
His eyes widened, large as saucers as he processed in my words.
"—go out sometimes?" I finished. "As a Date?" 
One, two, three beats passes and all Theodore did was look at me. No answer. No emotions. No words. Nothing. And I am briefly reminded of everything that happened. 
And then, "yes," he says. "Yes, I would." 
•••
Theodore really did read those books he bought me. This I knew now as I sat under the sun on one of Hogsmeade many benches with Theo to my left. 
This part of Hogsmeade was quiet, it wasn't too far from the shops but far enough for no one to frequent by. A few people passed by trying to move from destination to destination but none noticed the bench wedge into the middle of the place where two fifth years were sat, talking about everything and anything under the moon and stars. 
"So you liked it? You liked 'Listen, boy'?"
"I did." He was smiling and I wished more than anything that I'd had a camera to capture every smile he had given me during the pass hours. "Is that so hard to believe?"
"Yes," I laugh and his smile widens. "It just doesn't seem like you. It's a cheesy and corny book and you're always so dark and broody about everything." 
"I'm not dark and broody about everything," he denied. 
"You are!" I countered. "You were even dark and broody when I'd first asked you out."
"That's 'cause I didn't know what to say," he says truthfully. "You could've said yes, that would've made it easy for the both of us," I told him. "I really couldn't. You don't deserve just a yes. You deserved everything, not something so simple." 
"But that yes would've made my week, Theo." 
Theo looked like he was about to say something before he changed his mind. "I'm sorry I didn't say yes when you'd first asked me. Could you ever forgive me?" 
I want to kiss him until his lips, his skin, his hands, his scent, every tiny bit of him is imprinted in my mind. "Yes." I say. "Yes, I think I could." 
Theodore chuckled, his nose crinkling at the motion and something between that laugh and smile of his causes me to lose it. 
My hand reached forward first, palm pressing against his cheek, pulling him closer to me and pressed my lips onto his. I kissed him once then as I reached to pull away; I find that both of his hands had found their way to my cheeks, holding me still as he kissed me back. 
Theodore pulled back, the tiniest of smile on his lips that had the smallest smudge of my lipstick attached to it. And he tells me, as if he had been thinking of this for days, years, lifetimes. "You are the prettiest girl I've ever seen." 
And when I smiled, Theo leans back in. Peppering quick kisses on my lips, my nose, my cheeks, my forehead, anywhere I would let him kiss me; he will cherish it. 
Once Theo finally pulls back —and this was for real this time, no more quick kisses. He looks at me and I know deep down that he will be the death of me when he says. "You are going to be the death of me."
Tumblr media
— from bee: the thing about theo is that we know nothing about him so you can’t say that this is ooc :>
4K notes · View notes
llamagoddessofficial · 10 months
Note
I'm on my knees for any more crumbs with prison AU therapist Mc and Sans 🙏 the more equal(?) dynamic is just so good And to the anon that brought it up—I love you
I'll do you one better. Here's some crumbs for ALL of them
Since she's not a nurse, this Mc doesn't have a very strong stomach. Stories of Skull's crimes sometimes make her physically ill.
Generally, Sans and Mc's 'sessions' can be quite pleasant. They talk about current events, how things are going. It's only once she starts trying to explore his feelings that he starts toying with her.
... Red teases her a lot. She tries not to react to it, it's unprofessional, but he can always tell when he's flustering her. He gets this infuriating smug grin.
Since Red is a high risk prisoner, he has to have one hand cuffed to a table during therapy. He often complains that he wishes he could be cuffed alone in a room with her in different circumstances. What Mc doesn't realise is that, considering his strength, the cuffs are basically for decoration- Red just pretends he can't break out of them so she feels more comfortable alone in a room with a massive skeleton monster who openly displays interest in her.
Sans doesn't require cuffs in his sessions. And the only time he was cuffed, he snapped them 'accidentally' to make a point. It just makes it all the more nervewracking for Mc.
Skull doesn't know she's his therapist. He thinks she just really cares about him. That's why she keeps coming back to see him, right?
Red isn't the only flirt. Sans is a lot more forward in this AU, considering she knows the truth about his nature. Granted, Sans being 'clear' about something is still incredibly cryptic, but he enjoys the shock in her eyes whenever he calmly flirts with her.
Red's flirting is warm, sincere, and never crosses the line... it leaves her flushed and (though she'd never admit it) flattered. Sans' flirting is nervewracking. It makes her feel like she's a mouse, and Sans is a cat playfully batting at her, capable of clawing her to death at any moment.
Skull gains bits and pieces of speech back a lot faster with her. Unfortunately, that means he's learning how to terrify the guards. It used to be that Skull would just scream or snarl, but now he likes to say broken ominous sentences to guards he doesn't like to see them shit their pants.
He's also figured out that, when he's really upset and angry, if he screams her name enough someone will send her. It's not a great lesson to learn... but it's better than him deciding to attack people.
Whenever Mc tries to get Skull to do therapeutic art with her, he just draws the same thing over and over. The art is scribbly thanks to his tremor, but it always looks like three people; a tall skeleton, a shorter skeleton, and a human. He draws them in various positions- standing together, sitting around a table, sitting on a couch. She suspects one skeleton is him and the human could be her, but she doesn't know who the tall skeleton is.
(It's him, her, and Papyrus. His family)
Sans, for all his power and control, gets ratty and jealous when she treats other people. The first time he hears her laugh is when she realises that was why he's being moody.
She'd never seen him so delighted before.
Sans likes when she dodges his conversational traps. He'll try to lure her into talking about herself, revealing information to him, but she won't fall for it and always turns it back on him. There's not much he's been able to glean from her. It's always so fun, to play with someone who knows what they're doing.
Again, she'll never admit it. But Mc is fascinated by Sans. Most serial killers are delusional and kinda pathetic, but Sans is as if all the stereotypes of the 'genius mastermind serial killer' were true. She gets to be up close and personal, see how he works; she gets to watch his mask rise and fall in real time.
Of course, he knows she's fascinated. He uses it to keep her coming back. He's fascinated with her, too~
613 notes · View notes
the-greatest-8 · 4 months
Text
Obi-wan has had visions before, even when he was in the creche. It was a simple fact by now. Master Yoda had even offered comfort before, after a particularly difficult one. Obi-wan was well aware the risk of reading too far into them- because that simply wasn't how they worked. 'Always in motion, the future is.' Obi-wan knew this.
However- Obi-wan had one vision, one, that he hoped so desperately would become true. It always started the same, he would feel so light, so free- It was a comfort he has clung to in his darkest moments. He would be in bed, warm, and content. He would hear the sound of rustling next to him, before arms would wrap around him. Obi-wan always remembers how he sinks into, how he'd fall back asleep. That's how the vision always ends. It was never enough- not enough information.
Obi-wan wanted so deeply to know how to make that vision real. He knew it wasn't proper; He was just a man though, he tried so hard to follow all the rules- but oh, how he wanted. That feeling never left, even during the war he was in now. If anything, it made him wish even more, for a warmth to keep him grounded around all the deaths. Around all the sorrow after battle, Obi-wan just wanted to feel safe, like in the vision.
It wasn't often, he wouldn't mope, not when he was needed at his best. It was moments like this, however, when the desires in him felt suffocating. The last mission him and his men went on was successful, very successful. Morale was high, and so a stop into town to celebrate was made.
Obi-wan had been corralled into joining, as had Cody. It was enjoyable, even, he drank plenty with his men as they all laughed and told stories. Obi-wan was even sporting a buzz, he was happy, he had realized. Here, with his men, next to his loyal Commander. It made him pause for a second, surprised. Cody, vigilant as ever, took notice and sent him a look, feeling questioning in the force.
Obi-wan smiled at Cody, "I'm fine, Commander, I simply was surprised at something." Obi-wan said exasperatedly. Cody hummed, "If you don't mind me asking General, what was it?" He asked, and sipped his drink. Obi-wan huffed, "I just realized I'm enjoying myself, that's all my dear." He says. Cody smiled then, a soft expression that momentarily made Obi-wans heart flutter.
"I'm glad, sir, we've all noticed you've been tense." Cody said, his worry in the Force being replaced with a soothed, content feeling- and the gentle flames of fondness. Obi-wan almost stuttered, his face flushing slightly. Obi-wan felt warm, his heart raced while he worked on keeping his face straight.
The Force was entirely unhelpful, almost mockingly it made him more aware of how soothing Cody feels to him. Obi-wan decided then he was far to sober for this, and ordered another drink. He doesn't remember a single thing after.
Obi-wan awoke feeling warm, and content, surprisingly without a hangover too. He must have filtered his blood through the force before bed, he thinks distantly. He was sleepy, not entirely certain what woke him, so he just let himself feel. He was floating in soft feelings, he felt light and free, his troubles seemed all the more distant. Obi-wan doesn't remember feeling like this, not in a long while at least. Obi-wan hears rustling next to him, and before he can panic about another person in his bed, strong arms wrap around him and pull him close. "Go back to sleep, General.." a half asleep Cody mutters, before he fully succumbs to his rest once more. Obi-wan pauses, his heart thudding in his chest, and face ablaze.
Obi-wan decides this is a dilemma for future Obi-wan, and sinks into the embrace. He fleetingly thinks about his vision, but is unable to put more thought into it as he drifts off once more. A smile on his lips.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Authors note-
Honestly I'm not sure I'm happy with this one. Maybe I'll try again later, but I had to write my idea down or I wouldn't be able to to remember it lol. Hope you like it 😊.
283 notes · View notes
volturiprincess · 3 months
Text
From the other side
Demetri Volturi x F newborn vampire
Warnings: Foul language, death, mentions of a Emetophobia, I bash on the Cullens here A/N: This was a request by @kpopgirlbtssvt, I got to say I enjoyed working on this. Its been a while since I worked on an actual long one-shot request but I hope the wait was worth it, and I might of changed some ideas on the request slightly (but still stayed on topic). Enjoy💙 Word Count: 4k+ (wow)
_____________________________
Tumblr media
(He's just so gorgeous🥰)
“I think she’s waking up”
“How do you know?”
“Well you can see her eyeball moving Emmett, I'm no doctor but I think that is a sign she is waking up”
“Oh well sorry Mister Smartypants, didn't know I was in the presences of an expert”
“Focus, should we fetch Carlisle? He said he would be back soon but what if he’s already here?”
“I'll check, you stay here incase she starts moving around, wouldn't want her newborn instincts to kill Nessie”
“Fairpoint”
Why do I feel so strange? Where the hell am I? Maybe I should wake up, maybe the one with the southern accent could give me answers. I force myself to wake up and when I do everything seems so different. Everything seems so focused, enhanced, so…perfect. When has my vision ever been this good? I know I've been neglecting my glasses quite often but even with my glasses on I never had such good eyesight, I always thought I never needed them. I sit up slowly to check my surroundings. Crap! Where am I? What even happened to me? 
Flashback….
Just left my final class of the day, Anatomy is such a pain in the ass really. Why did I decide to take both Anatomy 1 and Genetics in the same semester? But I mean it's worth it, get the harder classes out of the way and then I can maybe squeeze in other classes I am interested in before graduating. I clinged my heavy textbooks to my chest tighter as I tiredly made my way to my small apartment. I got lucky that this place was cheap compared to living on campus, and the bonus to it is that my place is about 5 minutes away from campus. I heard the school bell ring signaling some class has ended, instantly I'm surrounded by a swarm of students like me. All of them either off to  their next class, or home, or even getting a late lunch. I was slightly pushed around until I managed to find an opening but not everything can go to plan. As I was trying to get to the opening someone shoved me a bit too hard and the books I was clutching flew out of my arms, I went along with them.
I heard a simple “My bad” and then I was met with silence. I hurriedly picked up my stuff and saw how people just looked but didn't help or offer a hand. Situations like this makes me want to just disappear. Just be able to get to point A to B without any mishaps. I composed myself mentally and continued my walk to my apartment. Considering it's only 5, it's already pitch black. I don't like walking alone at night, sure I’m a night owl, but I like to be alone in a safe space. As I'm walking I felt that weird feeling of being watched, it's like a sixth sense to me at this point, please tell me it's just my paranoia and not real. I do a quick scan and I'm met with no one but silence that makes an exception to the far off train horn. I hurried off trying to shake off that paranoia until I bumped into what I thought was a wall (ended up being a ‘human’)and then I was met with darkness.
Present…
I felt my eyes fill with tears but I soon noticed they would not fall, I tried blinking but nothing happened. I went to wipe my eyes with my hand instead but felt my hand move abnormally faster. Okay what the heck? I know I sometimes have my days where my reflexes kick in or not but I have never been able to move that fast. And as if on cue my throat felt so dry, I felt like I could drain the pacific and yet that would not be enough to satisfy the level of thirst I have. I tried swallowing but noticed that it didn't even help or even do anything.
“Carlisle should be here soon with something to subdue the thirst”
My gaze snaps to the man who is casually keeping guard at the door. The way he stood made me think he was maybe in the military or something. Why is he beautiful? His blonde locks styled perfectly and his eyes… Are they gold? I have never seen that type of eye color on someone before, I mean I have read a book where one of the characters had pirate gold eyes but in person that’s strange.
“Wh-wha- where am I?”
The way his gaze slowly met mine gave me the creeps, it was like from a scene of a horror movie, where if you spot something from a distance and then you blink, they are right in front of you, killing you.
“Carlisle will answer your questions”
“Why can't you?”
“I'm not in a position to be telling you stuff, all I'm here is to keep you calm since you are a newborn”
“A newborn?”
And then I was met with silence, he turned away from me so he was back to facing the wall like he was previously. 
“Could I at least get your name?”
“Jasper Whitlock, ma’am”
What feels like ages, another man walks in with a big guy. The first one seems like he is the one in charge around here, he seemed nice. He had a calm presence within, but the other guy seemed like he was ready to pick up a fight, probably the muscles around here. Now that I'm thinking about it more, am I in some sort of mafia? But these guys don't seem all that scary, maybe the big one and the Jasper guy. The calm one got closer to me and offered me a cup.
“Here drink this, it should help with the thirst”
I crabbed the cup hesitantly, hoping it wouldn't kill me, and drank it desperately. Finishing it in milliseconds, I did feel a small relief but I still had that feeling of an intense thirst. 
“We will give you more later but I think you deserve an explanation”
“You think”
He smiled gently but nodded “Well to start of you are not human anymore, you might of picked that up slightly since you have woken up”
Not human anymore? But what could I possibly be then? What have they done to me? Am I a monster now?
“You are now a newborn, a vampire to be exact”
That right there was the biggest mick drop of my life. What does he mean i'm a-a vampire? Those exist? I thought they were just myths, that they are just some made up thing that people build up over the years. But now I'm somehow one now? This shit can't be real, he probably has me on some drugs on something. Yeah that's right, probably drugged me and I'm trapped in some dream or something.
“I can see your in denial, there’s really no way to really explain it but you really are a vampire, that cup you drank from was filled with blood, deer blood to be exact”
Oh heck no. I drank blood? I never had a problem with blood, I mean I have a major in the medical field for a reason. Just can't get over vomiting, that's just a big phobia of mine, someone throws up and I'm literally about to faint. But enough of that.
“You gotta be joking here, vampires do not exist, there just myths”
“Well with all honesty here, I assure you I'm not joking, not with the times we are facing now”
“And what is that?”
“Well my family and I are in a bit of a dilemma, you see we have engaged another coven of vampires, and they are threatening to kill our family over a misunderstanding”
“Pardon my language, but what the fuck? What do you mean ‘another coven of vampires’ and a supposed death threat, there's more of you guys out there?”
The big guy chuckled slightly at my foul language and I heard him mumble a “Oh I like her, she’s way more funny than Bella”
“Yes well you see, our kind if basically spread out around the world, this other coven of vampires are living in Italy, but this coven is basically like our government, royalty you can say even, there more dangerous than us, they feed on human blood and they have gifts that can wipe out humanity in an instant”
Ok this other coven sounds scary, wipe out humanity? What the hell did this guy and his family do to anger them anyways, must be pretty serious.
“So let me guess this straight, you and your family have angered this powerful coven of vampires who can in your words wipe out humanity and…are doing what now?”
“Well we been gathering witness to help us avoid a fight with this coven”
“I see but what exactly did you do to anger this coven of powerful vampires then?”
“My son and his new wife had a baby”
“A baby? I'm sorry I don't see a problem here”
“Vampires cannot recreate, that's what I thought until my then human daughter-in-law got pregnant”
“Ok? Still not seeing a problem here”
“I guess an easier way to explain is as I said vampires cannot recreate, we are biologically not able to do such thing between two vampires, but between a vampire male and female human, it's possible but the problem here is the Volturi believe we have created an immortal child, which we didn't”
“I see so then why do they believe you created an immortal child? And also what is an immortal child?”
“An immortal child is a child what was turned into a vampire, there stuck as a child for eternity and cannot control their thirst or be calmed or even age, they are in modern terminology are illegal, and to answer the other question, apparently hybrids are not common and they did not know about them existing”
 The more he answers my questions, the more I think I am definitely dreaming, no way in hell is all of this real. Why am I even being roped into this? I was just some human who was just trying to be a Physician and now that dream is out the window because I'm apparently a vampire now. I need to wake up, this cannot be my life right now, I have so much to live for still. Sure I was quiet and not in some relationship but I still liked the life I had. 
“Now the real question here is, why or how am I even part of this?”
They were all quiet instantly and none of them were making eye contact with me. Ok weird… I mean even the big guys amused look was gone and that guy answering my questions with a small smile was also gone. Something here does not feel right. Someone burst into the room, which freaked me out a bit because this guy along with his buddy looked intimidating with all their leather and the intense red eyes. I felt a weird current roll down my body and then I heard gasps. The Jasper dude looked at me with wide eyes, well everyone was looking at me with the same wide eyes. 
“She’s gone!”
“No I don't think so Emmett, she’s gifted”
“What are the odds of finding one that is gifted”
“Not very likely”
Why are they all talking about me as if I wasn't there?
“Um i'm right here”
The ‘nice’ one spoke up first “Well it seems you have a gift miss, your invisible currently”
“Seriously?” I looked down and as he said I am indeed invisible. Maybe that weird current I felt earlier was me triggering this. Should I tell him this?
“How were you able to do that?”
“I don't know, I um felt a weird feeling run through me after those two over there came in”
“Vladimir and Stefan triggered it? Hmm it seems it came from fear then, interesting”
So those are their names, I wonder who is who. My wild guess is the platinum blonde is Vladimir and the dark haired one is Stefan. 
As if he knew I was talking about him, the platinum started to speak “So you were desperate enough for witnesses that you created a newborn? That’s low even for you Carlisle. At least she’s gifted but even then she probably has no combat skills so she won't be able to tear heads off if the time comes”
Ok y/n, let's think about becoming visible, I don't like how they're just staring at me like that, and also speaking smack about me either. Smoke started to surround me for a minute and when I looked at my hands to see I was now visible. Again I heard the gasp. 
“How did you do that?”
“I was just thinking about wanting to be visible”
“Well that’s good to know how your gift works”
“I guess”
Carlisle, it took him like thirty minutes to tell me his name, started to explain the situation more and even introduced me to the other members of his family. Jasper along with his friend taught me some basic combat skills in case a fight broke out with the confrontation. But the weird thing I discovered was when I met the infamous son, Edward, I was able to read his mind when he was reading mine, he gave me a funky look each time and tried to reduce his thoughts as much as he could. 
Funny enough but also traumatizing, he was always thinking about his honeymoon with his wife. I do not need to know how his child was conceived. When I met Alice a similar thing happened, she spaced out (which I found out she does when she has a vision) and I saw me with another figure, a man to be exact. The man in the vision was gorgeous, I never knew such a person could exist, he looked like a greek god. I think I might have another gift but I'm not sure I should tell Carlisle, there's just something off about why he won't tell me about how I became a vampire or what happened to me that night. 
—-------------------------------
Today is the day of the confrontation. Just last night I found out about vampires and now I might face death himself. And just today I found out werewolves or shifters exist, is everything in the books true then? I can feel my chest curl into itself and I feel myself internally hyperventilating. Can vampires do that? Well if they can that is exactly what is happening to me. I was placed between Vladimir and Stefan because apparently I should blend in and be more in the background then in front with the others. The Cullens think if the Volturi find out about me they might face a punishment of some sort.
But these two vampires are freaking me out slightly, they had an eye on me constantly, as if I were some criminal or something. With the confrontation I am fighting the urge to just disappear, I don't want part in this. It's not like I could be of help anyways, I can't really turn invisible on command, it just happens and turning visible doesn't always work when I want it to. The other gift I have, I still have no idea how it works or what it is exactly. 
Everyone is standing on guard waiting for the Volturi to arrive. I think the longer we wait the longer I feel my anxiety rise. I saw Vladimir move slightly, I followed his gaze to see a whole army of cloaked figures, they all moved in sync and let a smaller group move forward, those are definitely the kings with their guards. When they all stopped walking, they removed their cloaks and my eyes widened in shock. Why are they all really good looking? The big guy looks even more scary than Emmett, he’s basically towering over everyone. The other two I see are what I can assume are twins, they look alike except for the girl having blonde hair and the guy having brown hair. I heard the others say they are the most dangerous ones. I look at the kings, the only one who looks like he would kill everyone is the blonde one, he seems like the anger issues type of guy- err vampire. 
It seems I forgot to analyze another guard, he was slightly out of my view but how can anyone ignore his presence. I think this was the guy from Alice vision, in person he's more gorgeous. His lovely blonde hair styled to look like spikes, how his face is so symmetrical, he was indeed handcrafted by the gods.
I saw his gaze shift to meet mine, and oh dear gosh, a strong feeling overcame me. I don't even know what this feeling is, it's like an invisible string is trying to pull me toward him. I want to give in but I'm scared of what this is and I'm also scared that I might die right here. His focus was on me the whole time as the others spoke, there was even a point where he turned to the bored looking vampire to ask something which concluded with a nod from him. 
I don't even know what to center my fear right now, the fear from what is happening or the fear of this strange feeling I have with the breathtaking vampire. My attention on him was paused as I saw the blonde twin try to do something but that Bella girl used her shield, the blonde girl even looked at me but something odd happened. She clutched herself as if she was in agonizing pain and fell to her knees, my eyes widened slightly as her twin brother was at her side trying to somewhat resolve her pain.
Even the other Volturi members were shocked, the same twin boy turned his gaze to us and the anger that reflected his eyes was the most terrifying thing to witness. Out of his pure instincts he released a black smoke that also came out of my hands. I started to panic and the witnesses around me were also panicking, a bunch of them hissed for me to stop but I didn't know how or what was even happening.
A loud stop from the Volturi's side made everything go back to normal, the smoke was gone, the girl who was in pain stopped clutching herself and the boy's face was back to its resting form. Even the smoke I somehow had coming out of my hands had vanished. The king in the middle was the one who shouted stop from what I can tell.
“And who is this? She seems to have a very similar ability to one of my guards”
Carlisle who still had a confused looked form the earlier actions done by me “She’s part of Vladimir’s and Stefan’s coven”
The way the two vampires looked at Carlisle at the mention of their name would have left him buried six feet under. I could tell whatever plan the doctor had in mind was not planned. I mean even I was not aware of the plan to start off with, I was just told to stay quiet in the back and not turn invisible until they commanded me to. Vladimir not wanting to be thrown under the bridge or face any death just like me didn't let his voice be unheard 
“Still low of you Carlisle, he’s lying to you”
The look on the vampire king's face can be best described as if someone stabbed him in the back.
“Oh? Please do tell”
“She’s a newborn that Carlisle himself turned just recently”
“Oh my, bring her forward now”
I looked around the witness who was just staring at me as if I grew a second head. Carlisle gave me a look to go to them, so I walked toward the other coven, twiddling my fingers to try to calm my nerves down. So this is it then? This is how I die? As I got closer the elegant vampire kept his gaze on me, it almost looked like he was forcing himself to not go to me, like he was chained down. When I was a good ten feet away from them the tall muscular vampire one grabbed me. He had a strong hold on me, if I were human, painful bruises would indeed be forming at that instant. Again that handsome vampire looked like he was about to go to me but he stood his ground. The raven one came to me closer to introduce himself
“Hello dear, what is your name?”
“Y/n”
“Now do you mind offering me your hand?”
“My hand?”
He looked a bit impatient but smiled, a creepy smile but smiled nevertheless. “Well you see I have gift of being able to look at every thought and memory with just a touch”
“Oh, I see”
I offered my hand and was instantly reliving my every thought and memory as he said but as for my incidents with Edward, Alice, and the twins I could see his every thought and memory. I saw that he wanted Alice to be part of his coven, he was thinking of just forgiving the Cullens, I even saw memories of the handsome guard who I found out his name is Demetri. It just rolls out so naturally, it's as if I was born to say his name. Aro let go of my hand after a while with a bewildered look
“Interessante, I’m sorry for the troubles you been through, but it appears you have two gifts–”
Before he could continue, the sad looking vampire rested a hand on Aro’s shoulder and he turned to him to grab his hand like he did with me. With this case when I looked at the emotionless vampire I was able to see a red string that was connecting me and Demetri. It was the richests of red I have ever seen, come to think about it, it looks like his eyes. When he let go, Aro made one of the creepiest laughs I have ever heard to humankind, straight from a horror film. 
“It appears our own Demetri has found his mate”
If I could I would shiver at the mention of Demetri’s name. The mentioned name looked at the kings with anticipation, I mean I for sure wanted answers of what is going to happen.
“Felix you can let her go now, she’s no danger to us, on the contrary she’s going to join us”
I was let go by Felix “Join you? Why?”
“Well you see dear you are the mate to one of our guards, and we would hate for him to be miserable or lack on his missions if his mate is not kept safe, maybe with time you could join him in missions”
If I'm getting this straight, if I don't join then my ‘mate’, that’s a strong word to use, will be sad and won't be able to do his job correctly. Or I stay with the people who basically kidnapped me from the life I had, turned me into this bloodthirsty monster –currently I am still thirsty– and just threw me into a situation that I was nowhere prepared for. But again I don't even know Demetri, what if he’s cruel, what if he treats me like the Cullens? My thoughts started to spiral at a point where I was one with my mind and nothing around me existed anymore. If it weren't for the husky addicting voice I would have gone mental.
“Master? May I have a word with her?”
“Go ahead, she’s your mate after all”
I felt the warmth of his soft yet rough hands. I looked into his eyes and he gave me a small hesitant smile, oh I can get used to that. I need to see his real smile now.
“Hello cariño, I am Demetri, I am aware you know nothing about me neither do I about you, but I can promise you if you come with me and my coven, I will give you anything you want, give you a life humans can never come close to having, I will promise you an eternity of love and happiness”
So this is love? The way he speaks is straight from a romance novel. And the way his face glows makes it all more sincere and truthful, heck I just want to run away with him. I was about to say something to him when I heard them. The Cullens along with their witnesses whispering about me.
“A traitor”
“All that hard work to get her here for her just to abandon us”
“I knew there was something off about her”
“Carlisle do something”
“She can’t go”
“If she goes with them, then the Volturi have more power”
“She would be stupid to go with them”
“Indeed”
“She was a mistake”
I wanted to use that gift to disappear at that moment, I didn't ask to be placed in this situation to start off with. I was forced and manipulated. 
“You promise”
His hesitant smile turned genuine “I promise amore, forever and always”
Aro literally was beaming with anticipation for my decision, reminding me of a child waiting for the final decision of their parents to let them go to a sleepover at a friend's house. I nodded which caused Aro to clap with joy 
“Magnifico my dear” His attention turned to the vampires behind me “She will be coming with us, if you dare interfere, we will wipe you out without hesitation”
Ok that’s scary but I can tell he’s serious. I could see the blonde king with a proud smirk but Demetri pulled me into his side.
“Nobody will ever take you away from me from now on”
I gave him a weak smile as we walked off the snowy battleground. I didn't ask for this new life, but maybe it won't be so bad with him. 
158 notes · View notes
bump1nthen1ght · 3 months
Text
Silver and Gold (M!Siren!Reader x M!Pirate Captain)
Pairing: Male!Flirty!Siren!Reader x Male!Pirate Captain
Genre: Pirates, Flirting, First Meetings
Word Count: 2570 words
Warnings: N/A
Summary: For living a life in a sailor’s death trap, you think you’d be used to handsome pirate captains, rushing headlong into adventure. But something about today’s quarry seems different.
Request May I request a flirty male! siren! reader with a male gruff pirate captain? I'll leave the details up to you! Love your works by the way, take all the dang time you need. :3
A/N: Alright now THIS one should be accurate to the request lolol. You guys get a two for one special!
Life in the Dragon’s Teeth was shockingly boring.
Its reputation is infamous, the majority of sailors being sensible enough to leave it well enough alone. Of the people who dared to enter most were young and braggadocious sailors looking to prove their worth, who often made for quite boring sport. They always thought they were somehow better than siren magic, that pure belief could beat an enchantment powerful enough to literally make men wantonly fall to their deaths.
Bo-ring.
You think, watching one such ship entering into the gorge, men lined up the sides like pigs ready for slaughter. Your ravenous siblings all leap for the chances, hiding behind treacherous rocks or laying alluringly on outcrops, all ready for a taste. Despite the ship you all sank just one week ago, their bellies never seem to fill.
You however, have grown tired of this. Too easy, too monotonous. Maybe it’s time you finally spread your fins and leave the gorge, head into open water and explore the seas. Would be much more interesting than this, that's for sure.
You roll back over on your fins as the siren’s begin to sing, a haunting chorus bouncing off the chasm as the ship deftly avoids the rocks. Rolling your eyes, you daydream about the Great Barrier Reef, wondering if it’s as magnificent as they say.
But then-
“Ugh, come on!” A particularly voracious sister of yours hum to a tune of discontent, harshing her usually sweet melody. “I’m hungry! Why is this taking so long?”
“I don’t know.” A more rational brother of yours whispers, just loud enough for you to hear from your outcrop. “They should be overboard by now.”
That’s enough to have you turning over, eyes lazily sweeping over the ship, now deep in the Dragon’s Teeth. To your surprise, every sailor still seems hard at work, keeping mindful of the edges of the ships, but fulfilling their duties. Even the watchman at the crow’s nest, isolated as they are, stays perched and at the ready, looking over at your beckoning family with nervous yet un-enchanted eyes.
Now this is new.
You slide down a mossy outcrop, slipping in between the confused masses of your siblings, whose songs grow more and more discordant. Some have even swam up to the sides, clawing at the bows and preening like young pups. Still, the sailors ignore them, not paying any mind.
For a whole ship to be free of a whole horde of siren’s is a shocking thing, a terrifying thing, a wonderful new thing. You have to know more, so you crawl along the rocks, exploring the entire hull with watching eyes. 
Is there some boon they’ve brought with them? Did they find a witch and ask for safe passage? Has Poseidon himself blessed their voyage?
You wander from man to man, trying to find a hint of any wills breaking. But while curious eyes occasionally steal a glance at your siblings, curiosity is its reason, not compulsion. Any who dare get a sharp retort from the man at the helm, though they hardly deem to notice.
It’s then you realize, all these men are deadly silent. Not a peep between them, not even shouting orders. Except the helmsman, all the others silently following a preapproved pattern, a routine.
Oh, and what a helmsman he is.
It's easy to see how much better dressed he is than his men, a crimson coat that falls to his knees, closed by several belts and buckles over a ruffle white shirt. Gold studs decorate up and down his ears yet he is sparsely decorated elsewhere. Long black hair peppered with gray is tied in a low ponytail, healthy and silky despite a life at sea. His beard is less maintained, more scraggly, split apart by the occasional scar across his jaw. His boots are polished leath, not a scratch or stain on them, and his trousers are well fitted. Especially across his buttocks, which you take the time to appreciate.
The other thing that catches your eyes are his hands. Hands which swiftly attend to the wheel, in fact are tied to the rudders. His breathing is labored slightly, his cheeks darkened from focused exertion. Still, he keeps his eyes straight, shouting loudly to a young third mate who dares to ean over the side of the ship. The man ignores him, up until the captain kicks at a nearby can into the man's leg, shocking him to attention.
Oh, I see.
Seems you’ve found yourself an interesting prey.
Royce felt like a fool.
All his life he’s been a pragmatic man. Where other Captains gambled, brawled, and squandered their lives in stupid feats of bravado, he had always kept a level head. Sure, he’s a pirate and knew to have some fun, but he always did so with care.
He had weighed his options heavily before deciding on the Dragon’s Keep. It wasn’t easy, nor without risk, but the quickness of the route and the assurances of his men had convinced him. His plan would allow them to reach their next port in half the time, beating out any other rival crews to what was rumored to be an excellent bounty. He had even concocted a plan to ensure casualties would be at a minimum, scrounging for texts and stories about the fabled place to be best prepared.
But he had just been so goddamned curious.
“Cotton in the ears, huh?” 
A melodic voice knocks Royce out of his focus, thanking the gods for his resilience and not flinching at the site of the siren, now hoisted up the side of his ship. He thanks his foresight in tying his hands to the wheel, knowing that even without a song, the siren could easily lure him to his death.
“It’s a good plan, surprised you’re the first to think of it. There’s always a risk of course, that we’d be louder, but it seems they’ve packed those eardrums full.” The siren drags a clawed hand across the railing. The siren has a more human disguise, fins and teeth and scales all out to show. It does not make him any less alluring. 
Glowing yellow-green eyes dance up and down the captain’s form, a black tongue wetting the siren’s lips.
“So why not you, Captain?” The title drips out of the siren’s mouth like honey, his beck arching as he relaxes along the railing, precariously balancing his weight yet not a care in the world. “Is it supposed to be a challenge, a test of your willpower?” Sharp eyes dart to his tied hands “Or just plain ego?”
Royce takes a deep breath, meeting the beast’s gaze. He is a proud man, maybe too proud, but he’s not stupid.
“I am an example for my men, siren. I cannot be bested by a simple song.”
“Hmm, a likely story.” The siren sits upright, tail now swung over and onto the ship. He leans forward, a gleeful look in his eyes. “You are doing rather well. Most men would have torn their arms clean off by now.” A heat lingers over Royce’s arms, the siren’s gaze covetous. “It would’ve been a shame, they seem like very nice arms indeed.”
Royce tries not to feel flattered. These are games, that is all.
“I have faced many challenges in my life. None of them have claimed me yet.”
Royce keeps the details to a minimum. He’s content that he’s able to keep his composure this much, the siren testing his strength.
The siren’s laugh is as frightening as it is charming.
“Ah, so ego it is. Though you seem smarter than other idiots who have tried it before.” The siren goes back to his tied hands, to his tense posture. “And far more handsome. Awfully bold, coming into a territory like this looking like that.”
Royce scoffs. 
“Are you here only to play with you food, beast? Or do you find joy in plying me with compliments instead of singing?”
“Ooh, some sass! Good to know your words are as sharp as your sword, Captain.” The siren licks his lips. “And that jawline. My, my, I think you put even my kind to shame.”
Royce rolls his eyes, only making the siren laugh more. It seems that this Siren is less interested in eating him and more in entertaining himself.
“I have to ask, most others who pass through here are looking for a fight. A chance to prove themselves. You seem rather content on passing through, your men as well. Why come through this place?”
Royce stays quiet, thinking over any potential danger in revealing his plans to siren. If anything, nothing could be more dangerous than the position he is in now.
“It’s the quickest route. My men seemed up to the challenge, and so was I. We’re pirates, it’d be unbefitting for us to cower away from the riskier route.”
The siren nods. “True, true. Still, quite a risk indeed.” The siren flashes a smile full of glittering fangs.
The ship rocks, several of his men thrown to their knees as a stray rock scrapes against its side. The siren rocks with the waves, easily keeping his balance.
Royce grits his teeth. Is that what this was? A distraction? But the siren seems disquieted, slightly annoyed.
“Gah, fucking ridiculous that lot. So gluttonous.” The siren leans over, hissing an angry song. Royce almost wishes for the cotton, but finds no compulsing rhythm.
The ship stops rocking, the sound of rushing water as sirens fall to the wayside. The cacophonous songs fall to the side, though some still linger, waiting for a fortunate accident to occur.
“This place you're going to, will it have adventure?”
Royce raises his eyebrow.
“One would hope. Treasure too.”
The Siren’s smile is giddy, almost like a child.
“Then it’d be a shame if you got stuck here, then.”
The siren leans over the side, raising his hand, pointing to the portside.
“You’ll want to turn 20 degrees. There's a hidden outcrop that will cut through your hull.”
Royce grits his teeth, but follows the siren’s instructions. The ship sails smoothly, barely rocking.
“Now 10 degrees.”
  Royce turns again, just missing another jagged set of rocks. Sirens hiss in the water, Royce’s companion hissing back.
“Seems dangerous, betraying your own kind like this.”
“Bah, they’ll survive. They’re not even hungry, just peckish.”
The siren eyes him up and down again.
“Though you have me absolutely ravenous, Captain.”
Royce focuses on the wheel, hoping the siren doesn’t see his ears tips turn red.
This is definitely the most fun you’ve had in the while.
The Captains is as cunning as he is handsome, deft hands talented with the wheel. He peppers in anecdotes from his times at sea, a casual tone for such riveting stories.
In between instructions you take the time to eye him up more, those thick thighs and that strong back. You weren’t lying, he does put some sirens to shame.
“You’ll want to avoid those.” You point toward a deceptive spot of calm water. “The area alone sank an entire Navy Ship once. We feasted for weeks, though the meat was less than exemplary.”
“With only military rations, I’d imagine they aren’t very tasty.”
“Exactly! Gods, you’d think I’d be the only siren with taste around here.”
You see the faintest of a smirk from The Captain, which he quickly stomps away. He shares your dark sense of humor, quite fitting. You’ll get a laugh out of him yet. “15 degrees, starboard-side.”
The Captain follows with ease, your directions trustworthy by now. The crew still seem wary, unaware of the conversation due to the cotton in their ears, but they continue their work. Either their trust in their captain is strong, or they're too terrified to disobey in such treacherous waters.
The sun has begun to peak through, the end of the gorge insight. Your mind is slightly conflicted. A sadness, that the most interesting person you’ve met will soon be on his way. A glee, that this might be your best chance to leave the Teeth and explore the world.
The Captain clears his throat.
“It’s got its ups and downs, pirate life. Plenty of boring days, plenty of dangerous ones, plenty in betweens.” The Captain’s eyes stay on the horizon, safety so close for him and his crew. You smile.
“Would this be one of the ups, or one of the downs?” You wave to the jagged rocks, to the hungry eyes that linger from the water.
“I’m still undecided.”
You and your arm on the railing, watching the tides front the gorge clash with the ones outside.
“Still, it’s better than the same thing everyday. I think that's why most men go to sea, for the adventure, the undiscovered.”
Your eyes must be sparkling, minds filled with whales, sea turtles, with sunken ships and glorious battles.
The sun now speckles the hull of the ship, men visibly relaxing as the bow breaches the Dragon’s Teeth and splashes into safe waters. No one removes the cotton from their ears, however, still aware of your presence.
“I must thank you for your service, siren. I do not think we would’ve made it through unscathed if not for you.”
“____, It’s ____.” You say, eyes still on the wide ocean, on all the possibilities.
The Captain smiles, a familiar longing in your eyes.
“And it’s no problem. I think you’ve helped me more than you know.”
You whisper, heart thrumming. 
“You could join us, you know.” That has you whipping around, eyes wide. “I think you’ve proven yourself more than trustworthy. Besides, it would be helpful to have someone as powerful as you aboard.”
Your heart rises, bubbling up with excitement. But the fearful gaze of the rest of the crew still stings on your back, hackles raised.
“I think I’m gonna go out on my own for a while.” You hum, tapping your claws against wood. “See the world, really prove myself.”
The Captain keeps the quiet, nodding along silently. 
You sigh. Just a couple of hours with this man and you’re already melancholy to leave. For shame, ___, don’t you know better?
“Well, it’s a big ocean, Captain. But I’m sure we’ll see each other again.” You ready yourself on the rail, sitting upright and pivoting your tail to the outside of the ship. “Who knows, maybe I’ll be especially hungry next time.”
The Captain smirks, clicking his teeth.
“I’ll put up a hell of a fight, ___.”
“Oh, I’m sure you will-”
“Royce, the name’s Royce. Captain Royce.”
You smile, scaly cheeks glittering like diamonds in the sun.
“Until we meet again, Captain Royce.”
You give him a wink, eyeing up that gorgeous body of his one last time, and jump tail first into the ocean.
His ship fades into the sun as you swim away, hopeful that you’ll bump into it again one day. A day when you’re more worldly, have more adventurous stories to share.
You eye up the reef, several sirens slinking away, discontent with their food stolen. Whatever, they’ll get over it.
Your older sister might be a little upset about your abrupt departure, but she’ll get over that too. After all, she often leaves to visit that pirate paramour of hers, so what's the big difference?
Hell, maybe next time, you’ll come back with one of your own.
171 notes · View notes
jesswritesthat · 3 months
Text
Suna Rintarō: Bets
Fandom: Haikyuu!! — [ Masterlist ]
Summary: ~1.2k, fluff
• Challenging Atsumu is always fun and games, but how long can you keep playing when it involves Suna?
Warnings: None
>>>>——————————>
Tumblr media
Atsumu let off yet another chastise of offence toward his teammate who took it in stride, they knew he was a perfectionist when it came to his sets - they were tailored specifically so when someone missed he took it personally. However, Sunas taunting on the matter had agitated him today which lead you to your pouty blonde friend on his chosen bench, a dangerous skip in your step as you settled next to him.
"If he's that annoying, I could take him out for ya." You playfully suggested, smirk looming as you spun your pencil between your fingers. "Y'know, if you want?"
Atsumu flicked his suspicious gaze to you after hearing your alluring offer, eyeing you with more conviction than usual.
"With a gun or on a date?"
A conniving grin and a casual shrug that told him you weren't bothered by either.
"Depends how much he annoys me."
"Hah I dare ya, 'cuz I'd like to see ya try either." Atsumu at least seemed more upbeat, pushing your shoulder bemused.
"What do I get out of it?"
"Huh?"
"If you're issuing me a challenge that I complete, I deserve a reward." You chimed, a lace of certainty that told him you were serious.
"Yer get the date don't ya."
"Or a dead body."
A moment was taken to appreciate you quick wit, then another for a stare off, and finally Atsumu broke with a long defeated sigh.
"Jeez alright alright, I'll do anything ya want."
"Anything?"
"Within reason obviously, but Suna ain't gonna be won over. 'Samu says he already has the hots for someone." Part of you suspected Atsumu had played you, but wasn't smart enough to install a wager if you lost the bet so probably not, which gave you false enthusiasm.
"That's because he hasn't met me yet~"
"He has. Many times, yer friends for cryin' out—"
"I know! I was trying to be confident since you just ruined my chances at this! Is murder the only option or do you know who it is?" Immediately your suave facade dissipated with Atsumus deadpan statement and you were hunched over with a massive weight crushing your heart and hopes of success.
"Nah, stupid brother wouldn't tell me. Said I couldn't lie for shit."
You remained in thought making a noise of agreement which Atsumu took offence to but still, it was gut-wrenching information as you thought Rintarō would've told you too, since you're ‘supposed’ to be close friends.
Even so, during the following break in practice you were determined to utilise the 5 minutes for their entire worth. You slid into the spot beside Suna far smoother than originally intended which definitely boosted your charisma.
"Hey Rintarō, you come here often?"
"No, I'm a chronic skiver. Literally never seen you before in my life."
"Perfect, they say oversharing with strangers is a great way to get things off your chest." A solid if not obvious opening, one Rin had apparently became acutely aware of as he tuned into the conversation properly and ceased drinking his water.
"Yeah? What would you suggest?"
"Rumours, strategies, crushes, trauma? Take your pick."
"So there's this person in our class. Thinks they're real slick, and smart, they are kinda funny too considering they think I'll fall for their antics." He cockily paused, and indictaive stare looking you up and down knowingly but amused. "Honestly they're lucky they're hot else I wouldn't send them vines."
"..."
"You suck." A playful death glare met his pleased one alongside your own deadpan voice to which he served you his point.
"And you (Y/n), can ask me anything without the fluff."
"Yeah yeah, let me take you out as an apology. I'll treat you to ramen, this Friday?"
"You buying?" Suna tilted his head curiously, expression remaining unreadable.
"Mm-hm~"
It wasn't uncommon, the two of you would venture out either together or with fellow Inarizaki classmates and end up walking back together. As such you'd often take turns in paying for various purchases.
"Hm, I don't know..."
Either he knew you better than you thought, or something else was going on in that cunning mind of his.
"Rintarō, would you accept if I told you we could get anything we wanted out of Atsumu?"
"Ah that's why you're acting weird."
"Partly, anyway we agreed if I take you out he'll do anything, and I think it'll be fun to share said prize since you helped me earn it."
"Alright. Surprised he went along with it since we go out together all the time, he's not that stupid right?"
"...Well." The lack of conviction was humorous, however even Suna knew Atsumu better than his 'blonde moments' would allow.
"(Y/n)."
"Ughhhhh okay! Atsumu heard you liked someone, so knew you wouldn't accept my offer."
"You don't know who it is." It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. He realised you wouldn't be sitting here if you knew.
"No, and as much as I'd like to know, you don't have to tell me Sunarin."
It was silent for a moment, the brunette in thought before the interruption snapped the two of you from your quiet contemplation.
"Suna c'mon! Breaks over!"
You remained seated as he stood, not sparing a glance until he reaching the court alongside his teammates wearing a clever smirk.
"Ramen on Friday, after school!"
You watched Atsumu falter his serve, snapping a look of shock in your direction of which the only response was a mocking smile.
———
It was as casual as ever when you visited the local you’d sat in together many times before, sharing memes next to each other at the counter and commenting on one of the Miya blackmail recordings Suna had procured that week.
It wasn’t until midway through your food did the blocker turn to pause, looking to you who gratefully enjoyed your food. He was deciding, mind working a mile a second on the correct path here alongside remarks he couldn’t make. Instead he settled on honesty, much like you had done in the gymnasium except it took far less for you to get anything out of him.
"Osamu gave me a wager too, same reward as his brother." The offhanded casualness of his tone made it seem nonchalant, but you couldn’t help the arsing scepticism.
"That's suspicious, are they planning something?"
"I guess so." Suna shrugged half-heartedly, you could feel him analysing your response rather carefully by his narrowed side eye.
You stopped eating as this was worth pondering, the only reason these two bets could link together would be if the identity of Sunas' romantic interest was a certain individual. There's' no way, it’s got to be a different scheme.
"That'd only make sense if the person you liked was—"
Sunas’ warm palm covered your mouth, silencing your potential (but already known) revelation.
"You." A sorrowful smile. "Yeah I know."
A hum of acceptance emitted from behind his palm which softened his usual emotionless gaze, he’d gifted you the information to work it out and predicted you would rather quickly. It was easier than finding the words, there’s too many in both his head and heart for you.
"Sorry, I had to tell you myself else I'd lose the bet. I’d say that counts."
It wasn’t blunt or straightforward which you’d expect from Suna in this situation, in fact if you really dissected it, you couldn’t claim he’d officially confessed to you at all. But that was Suna Rintarō for you, leaving things ambiguous to figure out yourself and by then he’d have a gauge on your reciprocation, he was strategic in more than just Volleyball. But in you, he had worthy opponent, and you weren’t one to play into his hands.
After another moment, he removed his hand leaving a second to return his gaze, and another to breathe a sigh of understanding.
“So, where do we go from here Rin?”
“Wherever you want, (Y/n).”
“I think dealing with the Miya Twins is a great place to start.”
<——————————<<<<
[ Masterlist ]
149 notes · View notes
lavendermin · 3 months
Text
the lovers, reversed | stellaron hunter sunday
pairing | sunday x fem!reader
wc | 1.6k
genre | angst, one sided love, unrealized feelings
warnings | mdni, alcohol mention, brief mention of sex, blood, wounds, unhealthy relationship, spoiler I guess if sunday really does end up being a stellaron hunter (have not yet played 2.3)
Tumblr media
Fresh wounds, a few gashes. Nothing he couldn't treat. Because you wouldn't have anyone else though Firefly has always offered.
"Hold still," Sunday quietly instructs as steady hands work quickly to disinfect and dress unsightly marred skin.
You wince and clutch the sheets until your knuckles turn white. The pain was never easy, but a consequence of your recklessness nonetheless.
Under deft fingers you're all skin, no shame. Not when it's him.
Another whimper you can't suppress escapes your lips, and maybe it finally breaks something in him because you hear him sigh quietly. With his teeth he swiftly pulls off one of his gloves and holds it to your lips.
"Bite down on this," he instructs, voice calm and level. "There's still debris in one of the gashes. I have to take them out one by one."
You can only nod, not registering much else as the pain has your vision tunneling. It's another twenty minutes as he tries to work as quickly as possible. It takes everything to keep his composure despite your muffled cries of discomfort.
"This should have been done in the medical wing." Sunday's reprimand has little to no bite as he clears the medical supplies from the coffee table he had pulled up from across your room.
Your breath is weak and shaky, but still a gentle thing he's used to. "Too bright in there. Makes me feel like a lab rat within those white walls."
"Smells too clean?" he chuckles. Something he can't help around you more recently. There's an innocent and peculiar way you view things. Much like–
Sunday shuts the cabinet in your bathroom a bit harsher than he intended. He can't think of her... not right now. It would only bring emotions he didn't need to process—couldn't process at the moment.
There's red on his hands, on his clothes, staining his once pristine gloves. The awful metallic smell feels like it’s burned into his nostrils—a nauseating mix of crimson and the strong smell of sterilizers as he cleans the tools. His hands work on their own under the running water of your sink, almost out of body as his mind wanders. There’s a slight tremble he catches. Pathetic, he thinks, unable to keep it together in such a dire time.
The 'script' did not mention anything of a necessary death, but of course it would never detail wounds or misfortunes in detail. Some of those just come with the job. And sometimes he would feel a bubbling anger at the twisted fates that often befell you. But he knows it's a spiral that leaves him down a foggy road, one he shouldn't tread on.
Still, you're alive, and he's here. And for now, that's enough.
Your strained voice pulls him back to his body. Back to the present with a clearer head.
Right. The painkillers.
Sunday is quickly back by your side, pushing the small pill past your lips and lifting your face gently to give you water.
"You forgot," you tease despite your hoarse voice.
And those golden eyes you love dearly can't even bear to look at you as he sits next to you on the bed. There's no response other than a halfhearted hum he gives you. You know he didn't forget, and his lack of correction knowing how matter-of-fact he is only further sinks your heart.
But you don't get to tell your heart who to love.
The now-wrinkled glove he gave you is placed next to his leg. "Sorry I messed up. I'll buy you a new pair."
"Thank you..."
"You're wel-"
"You should say ‘thank you’. For the gesture. But don't apologize for the inevitable from missions. What's done is done," Sunday interrupts, voice firm. A little cold.
"I-" You're cut off as he grabs your wrist, his eyes unfocused as he looks at the ground.
"If you had done as I said– You could have gone missing. A lot of things could have gone wrong. Don't use yourself as bait. If anything happens to me, you escape by any means necessary. Understand?"
The grip is a little less than comfortable and you can only nod. Obedient only if it was his words that commanded. It brought a feeling he didn't want to describe rushing through his chest. The way your eyes looked at him—a mix of fear and blind adoration. It made him nauseous to consider himself worthy of such affection.
The morals of why he kept you by his side—of why he sought you during moments of his own damned weakness... He would dwell on that another time. If his morals were in a slow decline, perhaps he would even turn to burn the words stuck in his throat with the liquid he once detested and swore would never stain his lips. The liquid courage might bring him tumbling into your arms, an eagerness to be held and soothed for the sin he feels tainted with.
That maybe in his drunken stupor with his face buried in your neck and his throbbing frustration filling you up, he would realize even in nothingness, there is you. Always you.
A rebound. A close second. A replacement.
Sunday subconsciously has been latching onto you. It’s something he doesn’t remember starting, something he can’t stop nor explain. You, who are like an injured little dove to him, easily hurt and predictable in seeking comfort with his presence.
At first he firmly tried to keep his distance, remain cordial. But now… You provide him some psychological need to keep his same routine from before or have some semblance of familiarity amidst this new path he's been set on. This relationship was just something platonic, he swears by this. Just an innate need to protect and guide you since you were also a clumsy new recruit.
You couldn't help it—falling for him. Slowly being consumed by an infatuation that morphed into a hopeful yearning that filled your chest with a syrupy thickness of strong emotions you were inexperienced with.
And Sunday was at a loss. That wasn't part of the plan. Well…granted he didn't have much of a plan with you. The platonic acquaintance he had built with you was nothing more than for his own gratification. His desperate attempt at normalcy. Someone to fill the void of not being able to see his dear sister.
Still... you're so willing to just give and give and give to him. Anything, for even the slightest possibility of returned affection. Even if you don't outright confess to him, he sees it. In your actions, your speech, your eyes.
Would it truly be so bad to take that which is offered in earnest?
A heart in his hands with nothing to show for it. Lies to himself that this closeness is his attempt to bring you salvation. To settle your heart.
He knows how your script ends, looming over his consciousness. Testing his heart as if he were a newborn god stumbling over his first creation meeting its written demise. Some part of him is too scared to ask if you know it, too. Maybe there's still some naïveté in him if he believes for a second that you don't. A hope that your heart remains innocent and lovely and–
For now Sunday lets you love. It would be a bitter thing to not take the heart you have handed to him.
The painkillers have started to work, your body finally able to sleep for a bit after he changed your soiled sheets from treating your wounds. Before he leaves, Sunday presses his lips to your knuckles and idles for a few moments to watch your steady breathing. Sweat glistens on your brow from the exertion the wound treatment put on your body. Your endurance was nothing to be laughed at.
Sunday doesn't need to turn to know who's outside your door when he leaves.
"Was there something you needed?" The question lacks any warmth.
Kafka chuckles where she leans against the wall, fiddling with a card in her hands. "Here to drop off your compensation for the mission and look after the little lamb," she replies simply, throwing the card to him. He catches it between two fingers. "She lost her phone this past mission so make sure to give her that card for the time being."
Sunday's eyes narrow. "I'm looking after her."
"Poor thing sent me a message asking that I check in on her so she won't bother you. Unless that's a problem?" Her unreadable smile is something Sunday is growing to detest.
"Not necessary. I'll be handling it." His voice is firm, a warning woven into his tone with careful consideration. A natural habit from his years as the head of the Oak Family.
"Really now? If you don't want me looking after her due to trust issues then Bladie can–"
"No." Sunday can feel his heart pounding in his ears, a frustration deep-set in his veins at the pure thought of someone that isn't him near you when you're at your most vulnerable. He wishes he could wipe that smile off Kafka's face. Victim of her teasing again. Remember your composure, a conditioned mind rings. With a clear of his throat, he continues, "No, that won't be necessary. I've already cleared my schedule to ensure her wounds are looked after so there isn't any scarring. I'll take care of it."
Kafka relents and pats his shoulder as she passes him. "Very well, birdie. Sounds like you have our little lamb's heart in your pocket. Or perhaps it's your own?"
Before Sunday can ask her what she means, she's already vanished from his sight. His hand reaches into his jacket pocket when he feels something rigid and pulls out a card he's sure she placed there.
A tarot card depicting a dove perched on a lamb. The lovers.
155 notes · View notes
sorceresssundries · 3 months
Text
The Wizard who Waited
Summary: It is time to go and face the Elder Brain, and Tav stops by Sorcerous Sundries in the hope of saying farewell to Rolan. Let's all just pretend we don't meet him at the high-hall before the battle.
Pairing: Rolan x gn Tav - SFW
Word Count: 3.2k
A/N - This work is inspired by one of George's cameos. Featuring a monologue written by @gender-in-a-blender. I loved it so much that I wanted to create a short story to wrap it in.
'Wait! Before you go, I have something I need to get off my chest. You are without a doubt the most maddening person I have ever met! You are reckless and foolhardy! You put yourself in harm’s way time and time again, and it’s enough to drive a man to insanity... because… You see, I think about you constantly. Wondering where you are, what you’re doing, whether you’re safe. I think about the brief moments of time we’ve had together and how it’s not been enough. How it will never be enough. I know I can’t convince you to stay here with me, safe in this tower, but when this is all over... I want you to come back to me. Please, will you come back to me? Don't answer me right now. Go save the Gods-damned Gate. And if you want this, if you want us... come back to me. I'll be waiting.' - Written by @gender-in-a-blender
Tumblr media
It was time.
Night fell, as surely and steadily as it always had. The last blood-red rays of sunlight sank below the skyline of the quaking city, leaving Tav to wonder if they would ever feel its warmth on their skin again. 
There was no time to dwell on it. Blades sharp and spells readied, Tav and their companions made their way through Baldur’s Gate, the night air thick with promise. Whether that promise was of victory or defeat, there was no way of knowing, but the dread Tav felt was so intense they could choke on it. Candlelight flickered in the windows of the houses they passed, and babies cried, hushed by fretful parents unable to soothe them from the now-regular tremors rumbling through the city like shockwaves.
It would all end soon.
In front of Tav stood Sorcerous Sundries, light filtering out from the stained glass of the magnificent domed roof, scattering ripples of blue and orange through the surrounding streets.
Perhaps Rolan was there...
“I’ll be back in a moment,” Tav said to their steel-faced companions. “Let me see if I can get any last-minute supplies…”
They exchanged a knowing glance as Tav headed off.
“Darling, a giant brain is about to split the city apart, is now really the time for this?” Astarion called as Tav made their way over to the wizarding shop. Tav ignored him, as they often did.
“Leave it, Istik. A warrior should be granted a final goodbye to the source of their joy before a battle.” Lae’zel’s usually sharp voice was solemn.
The source of their joy. Was it so obvious?
It was late, and the shop was empty. Only a few enchanted sets of armor clunked around, guarding the precious wares and tomes. Despite its emptiness, the air was ripe with magic, sweet and delicate, like spun sugar and silk. The disappointment of not seeing the new archmage at the front desk busying himself in books was more profound than Tav had thought it would be. He must be in his tower. Perhaps they could leave him a letter, or even a...
“Well, if it isn’t the meddling hero!” Rolan appeared at the top of the stairs. His words were a usual wry quip, but a smile played on his lips, warm and inviting. “What trouble are you in now?” He made his way across to Tav, he looked as beautiful as ever.
Tav saw his gaze rake over their freshly sharpened blade and restless hands. His smile died.
“I…” Tav hesitated, searching for the right words. “We’ve gathered what we need to destroy the Absolute. We’re leaving now.” Tav wanted to say goodbye, but the words didn’t leave their throat.
The truth was, it was more than saying goodbye. Tav had stopped by to commit his face to memory. To count and remember each freckle and burn them so deeply into them that not even death could wipe them away. They were a constellation Tav wanted to map out and carry with them, wherever they went. They wanted to hear his voice one last time, so it would be fresh and colourful in their mind as the world quieted into darkness around them.
They wanted to tell him they loved him, but couldn’t bring themselves to say it.
It wasn’t fair to offer that now, freshly uncovered and full of potential with nowhere to spread out it’s wings. It is a precious thing, deserving more than to be grasped for a fleeting moment only to be let go.
‘I love you’ was a beginning to something that Tav couldn’t offer. 
“Right.” Rolan looked up through the stained dome of the ceiling, up to the stars, and squared his shoulders. “Let me leave a note for Cal and Lia. I’ll grab a few things and then…”
“No!” Tav grabbed hold of his arm in a panic before he could move away. “I need you to stay here.” His face slips further into his familiar frown.
“I can assure you I am perfectly capable of helping, despite what I may have demonstrated so far.”
“I know,” Tav said as calmly as they could, trying to keep the frayed edges of their nerves from knotting into their voice. They couldn’t let him know how frightened they were; it wouldn’t be fair.
“I need you to prepare the artillery. We’ll need it when the time comes.” Tav could see he was torn, clever thoughts dancing just behind his eyes, restless and painful. “Besides, the city will be in trouble and the tower will be the safest place for people looking for shelter. The safest place for Cal and Lia. For you. Please, Rolan. I’ll send a signal for when to fire.”
“Get someone else to send the damned signal! Stay here, if it’s so safe.”
“I can’t.”
“Let the others handle it!”
“Rolan.”
“Why must it be you?! Don’t be so foolish!”
“Rolan…”
“Surely there is someone else out there willing to die for this fucking city.” The air fizzled with his anger. Tav took a deep breath, steadying themselves. 
“Am I allowed to say something now?”
“Not if that something is ‘goodbye’” His voice cracked against that final word.
The world had not been kind to Rolan. Tav couldn’t bear to think about the countless goodbyes he must have endured throughout his life. To Elturel, his family, his friends, and now, to them. The scars of these losses ran deep, each one carving away a piece of his heart. Another challenge was about to come his way, and Tav prayed his would be the last scar Rolan would ever have to bear. He deserved a life of joy with the ones he loved, free to settle into the peace he had fought for. 
The thought of not being there to witness it almost caused Tav to crumble. They could picture it so clearly - Rolan laughing with his siblings, standing in the moonlight at the top of his tower, gazing down at the home he had finally found. It was a vision Tav yearned to be part of, but one they knew they might never see.
They had to leave now, or they would lose the strength to go at all.
“I know what needs to be done, and I have what is needed to do it.” Tav eyes shimmer. “It has to be me.”
They took a step towards him, a hand held out, but Rolan stopped them before they could get close.
“Don’t you dare hug me! I do not want our only embrace to have been as you wave me off on your way to war, leaving me behind like some weepy, heart-wrecked widow.”
A fresh ache stretched out in Tav's chest. Would he really let them leave without at least a hug goodbye? They hadn’t realised how much they had been relying on it.
“The world could end if I don’t go.” Tav said simply.
“Let it” Rolan replied.
The air between them was thick with unspoken words; the soldier who came to say goodbye and the wizard who would not let them. Another rumble shook the walls, and books tumbled from their shelves, scattering like fallen bodies across the floor, spines cracked and splayed open.
“We’re running out of time,” Tav said softly, unsure if they were referring to the world or the two of them. In this moment, it might as well be the same thing.
Rolan sighed deeply, holding his head in his hands for a few moments, his tail swaying in agitation. Tav wanted to go to him, to feel his arms wrap around them and lose themselves in the few quiet moments they had left, for their own sake as well as his.
His reaction was different from what Tav expected.
“You are without a doubt the most maddening person I have ever met!” Rolan suddenly burst out. Tav didn’t know how to respond; they hadn’t been expecting a scolding. Rolan took a step forward, coming within reaching distance. His eyes blazed and his chest heaved with angry breaths.
“You are reckless and foolhardy! You put yourself in harm’s way time and time again, and it’s enough to drive a man to insanity... because…” The bluster suddenly lessened, and the hurt and worry spilled through the cracks in his voice. “You see, I think about you constantly. Wondering where you are, what you’re doing, whether you’re safe. I think about the brief moments of time we’ve had together and how it’s not been enough. How it will never be enough. I know I can’t convince you to stay here with me, safe in this tower, but when this is all over... I want you to come back to me. Please, will you come back to me?”
He sounded gentle and afraid, and Tav wanted to say, “Of course I will. Of course, you stubborn, uptight, short-tempered, wonderful man.” But that was not an oath they could bring themselves to swear. Tav couldn’t bear the thought of dying with the pain of a breaking a  promise to the man they loved.
“Don’t answer me right now,” he sighed into the hesitant silence. “Wait there.”
He began to move through the chaos of the shop, rifling through drawers, shifting clinking bottles in cabinets, and pulling down various concoctions to gather in his arms. Murmuring in Infernal as he read labels and blew off dust, he eventually brought his collection back over to Tav.
Placing them on the counter, he started to sort through them.
“Thank you, but I really don't need…”
“Shut up and take them. This one is peerless focus. Give it to Gale; it will help him maintain his concentration. Gods know that fool will need it. This one is Bloodlust, fitting for your vampire friend. There are a few oils for blades and arrows which will increase their effectiveness. Giant Strength for Karlach and Lae’zel. And this one is for you.”
He set down a small vial that glistened with a honey-like substance, viscous and molten, the same color as his eyes.
“Guileful Movement,” he declared, his fierce gaze meeting Tav’s.
“You are strong, but you lack speed, and you get so caught up in watching out for everyone else that you leave yourself vulnerable.”
Placing the vial in Tav’s palm, he wrapped his hands around theirs, the warmth and softness comforting.
“Drink it before you fight. Move fast. Focus on your own strikes, and for the love of gods, run if you need to. You never seemed to do enough running.”
Tav smiled at him. “I never needed to.”
“Yes, yes, you were very tough and brave and beautiful, but trust me, there was no shame in running.” He kissed Tav’s hand, still cradled between both of his. “Run back to me.”
There was a sudden gentleness to his voice that Tav hadn’t properly heard before. They wanted to spend entire afternoons, whole summers, a lifetime sinking into the softness of that voice. They only had a few minutes at most.
Tav smiled, for the first time since coming into the store. Rolan wanted them to come back to him, he believed he would see them again. Perhaps things weren’t so bleak after all. A warm drop of hope fell upon Tav’s poor, burnt-out heart and it was enough to let something settle and take root. 
“Look at how far you’ve come.” Tav cradled his cheek with their palm. “From the chains of hell to the top of the tower. You, Cal, and Lia, all safe and together, as you should be.”
“I should be keeping you safe.” His voice was small and quiet as he fixed his eyes to the floor. 
“Always the protector.” Tav said, and they tilted his chin so his gentle eyes meet theirs. “You are. Keep me safe a little longer, wait for me, and i’ll come back to you.”
They kissed then, for the first time. 
When Tav had imagined their first kiss with Rolan, they had expected softness, uncertainty, maybe a little clumsiness—but there was none of that here. There was no time to be uncertain. His hands gripped the front of Tav’s robes like they were a lifeline, and his lips caressed theirs as though the taste of them could save him. Tav held onto him just as desperately in return, wishing it was enough to anchor them there.
Tav craved the luxury of an unhurried, tentative kiss. Perhaps during a leisurely stroll through the park, or after a little wine-soaked bravery from an evening spent together in the Elf-song Tavern. A slow kiss under a clear sky, savouring the joy of knowing it didn’t have to be perfect - it just had to be the first of many.
Tav thought of this now as his mouth moved against theirs, feeling the cool dampness of his tears mingling with their own. The kiss softened, their breaths steadied.
It was time to say goodbye.
Tav reluctantly pulled back, their forehead resting against Rolan's. 
"That was not a last kiss," Rolan said, his voice a hushed murmur. "That was a first."
Tav nodded, swallowing hard against the lump in their throat. They didn't trust themselves to speak, afraid that any words would break the fragile dam keeping them together.
Rolan's hands lingered on Tav's cheeks for a moment before he let them fall to his sides. "Go save the Gods-damned Gate," he said, his voice steadier now, "And if you want this, if you want us... come back to me. I'll be waiting."
It was done.
Tav left more hopeful than when they arrived, their soul bright and burning and loved. 
They had a battle to win, and a new future to fight for.
______________________________________________________________
Hours had now passed, and Rolan stood at the top of his tower, a solitary silhouette against the flames and cries that echoed through the city. He gripped the ledge with white-knuckled intensity, his red skin stark against the pale stone, keeping himself steady.
The cannon had been fired, its aim fierce and true, and Rolan knew he had done all he could. Below him, Baldur’s Gate burned. Nautiloids filled the night sky, their fiery payloads raining down destruction, and the air was so choked with smoke that Rolan thought even the gaze of the Gods could not pierce it. There would be no help from them now. Debris and explosions collided with the tower's defenses, dissipating into dust and smoke against invisible barriers. Cal and Lia were on the lowest level, rallying the survivors, providing aid and shelter amidst the devastation.
His eyes, accustomed to fire and loss, remained fixed on the High Hall and the looming Elder Brain above it. The city was a grim echo of a past he did not want to think about. How many war-torn, flame-licked cities would he have to watch be assaulted? 
He could not think of Elturel now; that was the past, and he had a future to hope for. 
The temptation to reach for a bottle, to drown his helplessness in wine as he had done at the Last Light Inn, tugged at him. But he resisted. He was not that man anymore; Tav had made sure of that. He would not succumb to ineffectuality. He was more than he was then. For Tav’s sake, for his own sake, he would wait here, steadfast and vigilant. He would watch out for the person he loved, for as long as it took.
Through the smoke and clouds, atop the brain, strobes of magic flickered. He tried to discern the signs of each spell, to picture the battle. The light was dim and soft through the smoke, like lightning blanketed by storm clouds. The flashes of battle-slung spells bloomed through the dark. Sounds of cracks and hisses followed the scattered lights, shots of reds and greens and pulsing golds.
Rolan’s heart pounded with each flare, each distant explosion. He imagined Tav amidst the fray, their blade slashing through the chaos, their determination as fierce as ever. He whispered a silent prayer to any deity who might be listening, hoping that Tav’s courage and skill would see them through this nightmare.
The minutes stretched into an eternity. Every second felt like a lifetime, the wait unbearable. But Rolan watched and he waited, the fate of Baldur’s Gate - and his heart - hanging in the balance.
And then, the elder brain fell. 
Time fractured into shards as the creature tumbled from the sky like a marionette with severed strings. It convulsed and spasmed, desperate waves of psychic shockwaves firing from it erratically. The dangling spinal column lashed and whipped into the city's buildings as it descended, ensuring a final barrage of destruction. With a resounding crash, it plunged into the waters of the Chionthar, its reign of terror culminating in a colossal, explosive orb of energy. The shockwave erupted outward, smashing through the city, shattering glass and hurling Rolan backward, knocking him against the wall of his tower and into unconsciousness. His last thought as he slipped away being of Tav’s fate, and the certainty that he would not see them again. 
He was wrong.
When Rolan awoke, roused by Lia and dragged down to help the wounded, he felt broken. It hurt to breathe, to think. He just wanted to get out into the city, where the light of a new day spilled over the wreckage of the night before. He wanted to find Tav, whatever that meant. 
The hero of Baldur’s Gate stood, leaning against the doorway to the tower, clutching their side. Bloodstained and bruised, their armor and weapon abandoned, they now wore only a sweat-soaked shirt and trousers, looking less like a mighty hero and more like a lost refugee. The second they saw Rolan amid the survivors and chaos, joy filled their chest and pulled a laugh from between cracked ribs.
It was over. They had won. And even though their legs were tired, their muscles burned, and their heart ached from saying goodbye to forged family, they had come back.
The taste of the golden, honey-thick potion Rolan had pressed into their palm still lingered sweetly on their tongue.
They had run back to him.
Rolan's eyes widened when he spotted Tav. He pushed through the crowd, ignoring the protests of those around him. In moments, he was in front of them, his hands hovering uncertainly before he finally pulled them into a tight embrace. The feel of his arms around them was everything Tav had fought for. 
“You idiot! I thought you were dead.” He admonished.
“Careful.” Said Tav, wincing from the enthusiasm of his hug. “Don’t be greedy.”
There would be time now, in the settling dust, for peace to be found, clutched, and cherished. 
For the two heroes who had given each other hope when it had all but been extinguished. 
For the soldier who came to say goodbye, and the wizard who did not let them.
170 notes · View notes