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viking-raider · 11 months

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A Witcher's Soul

Summary: When tragedy strikes, Geralt of Rivia seeks comfort in the arms of one woman.

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia/Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warning: PG - Abandonment Issues, Child Abandonment, Fluff Parental Loss, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Memories, Bathing, Love Confession, Soft!Geralt, Character's Death

Inspiration: This scene from Season Three of the Witcher! 😭

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!

Geralt rode Roach hard, only deviating from his path to guide the powerful black horse around a tree or rock. He gripped the worn brown reins tightly, feeling them cut into the top of his bare hands as he urged Roach to move faster, foam already starting to gather around his bit. The Witcher's mind raced, desperately trying to push down the power of the news he received from a good friend, while trying to help someone he'd found on the job. He struggled for a few days, trying to push it down, telling himself it didn't hurt.

She had left him almost a century ago, at this point.

Witchers had no emotions, he told himself, as a means to drive them back. It didn't work however, the emotions continued to smash into him.

So, he left in the dead of night, not a word to Anika, Otto, or even Jaskier, of where he was going or why. Though, he was sure Anika would know why. Geralt covered almost a whole league by the end of morning, cutting through the forest outside of Murivel, until he reached a modest clearing and an even more modest, three-room hut constructed in the middle of it, a stone and clay well on the left side, the bucket swaying softly in the breeze.

Roach came to a hard stop, hooves cutting deep grooves in the grassy earth, with Geralt wasting no time in dismounting the stallion and stomping across the yard to the front door. His sore and broken heart rose up with hope that it would swing open and the face of the one he was seeking would appear, to greet him. But, the door didn't open to him, instead he was greeted another way.

“Geralt!” A soft and confused voice called out.

He swung around on his boot heels, his golden eyes zeroing in on you as you stood just passed the tree-line, a basket of herbs and mushrooms balanced on your hip, as you regarded the Witcher. You hadn't seen Geralt in over a year, since he decided he needed to go to Cintra to make sure Ciri was safe from the sea of black and gold he'd seen on the Amell Pass. After the Dragon Hunt. You had heard the thunder of the new Roach's hooves coming up the path to your home, while you were gathering in the forest, and came to see who it was. You were surprised to see Geralt in general, but you were worried by how rushed he seemed.

“Geralt, what's amiss?” You asked, coming to close the gap between you. “Are you well?” You inquired, seeing the unusually deep crease between his brow and across his forehead, and how his complexion was paler, almost matching his hair.

Geralt took a deep breath through his nose, lips pressed together for a moment, working up the strength to speak. “I need you.” He finally rasped, his expression breaking into something soft and vulnerable.

“You rode all the way from wherever, just for time with me?” You smirked, tisking.

“Please.” Geralt replied, reaching out to grasp your free hand and squeezing it, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, his expression breaking even more.

You frowned at him, all jest dying inside of you, seeing his wall fall before you and the pain he was being crushed underneath. “Let's go inside.” You whispered softly, tilting your head towards your door.

Nodding, Geralt reached out for your basket, but shaking your head and swatting it away gently, you pushed the front door open and put your hand on his arm, guiding him inside. You set your basket on a large table and turned towards the just as large fireplace, grabbing wood from the dog grate and tossed it in. Building it back up, sparks flying up the chimney. You moved to Geralt, who stood motionless beside the table, taking his hand and guided him over to the chair at the head of the table, gently coaxing him to sit down, then knelt before him. Grabbing the heel of his boot and his calf, you tugged the muddy, black leather off and set it underneath the table, followed by its twin. There was dust and mud covering his black clothing. You brushed your palm over his knee and thigh, casting some of it off, before standing up again and starting for the next room, only to have Geralt grasp your wrist and pull you into his lap. His arms wrapped around your shoulders as he buried his face into your chest, and breathed deep.

You frowned at him, sympathetically brushing your fingers through his hair and pulling it free of its usual tie, his white strands cascading over his shoulders. You nosed the top of his head, caressing the back of his hair and squeezing his bicep, still confused as to why he was there and what was ailing him so much.

“Geralt.” You whispered into his strands. “Tell me, what's happened?” You asked, your fingertips brushing the back of his neck. “Did you not make it to Ciri in time? Has something happened to her or Jaskier?” You inquired, licking your lips as your heart thundered against his forehead. “I noticed that isn't the Roach you had the last time you were here.” You pointed out, remembering the sweet Chestnut you used to feed and brush, when Geralt stayed with you, but now there was a sturdy black stallion standing in your dooryard.

He shook his head and cleared his throat. “No, they're both fine.” He rasped, turning his head to rest his temple against your collarbone. “As for the last Roach, she was killed by a Chernobog, a few months ago.” He added, softly.

“Oh, I'm so sorry.” You cooed, tucking his hair behind his ear. “Then, what's the matter with my Wolf?”

He was still and quiet again, for a long time, his fingers restlessly toying with the strings at the back of your bodice, before suddenly standing with you still in his arms, and turning to sit you on the chair in his place. He went out the door, rounding the house to the well and dropped the bucket to the bottom. You watched Geralt come back inside with each bucket, holding it in one hand, like it was the weight of one of his swords. Pausing in the open doorway and giving you a hard stare every time, as if he expected to find you moved off the chair or vanished completely. Only then, did he go to your large cauldron, dumping the full bucket in and returning back outside for another.

“Are you going to tell me, what's the matter, Geralt?” You asked, your concern only mounting with his bizarre behavior and irregular moodiness.

“Nothing.” He grunted harshly, setting the cauldron over the fire to boil.

“That's a lie.” You answered, just as sharply, being one of the few people on the Continent brave enough to talk back to the White Wolf in such a manner; other than Jaskier and Ciri. “You wouldn't have come from the bum fuck of Nilfgaard to see me, if something wasn't bothering you.” You insisted, glaring at his back.

Geralt ignored you, heading towards the back rooms of your home and leaving you more worried and annoyed at his behavior. He came back a few minutes later with no shirt on, and your suspicions on his task were answered. Despite what the people of the great Continent thought of Geralt of Rivia, he did not in fact like smelling of death, blood and horse. When he stopped for the winter at Kaer Morhen or with you, he bathed regularly. He just found it more a nuisance to do so while on the Trail, since the next Contract or sleeping rough would only dirty him up again.

Pulling the roiling cauldron off the fire, Geralt carried it to the large, soaking tub you boosted in your bathroom. He filled it almost to the brim, before adding in Lavender and Sage bath salts to the steaming water. A fragrant haze filled the room as he tugged his pants off and tossed them over a chair in the corner. He strode out of the bathroom, returning to you, still sitting where he'd left you. He took your hand and helped you stand, untying the strings of your bodice and tugging down your dress, so it pooled around your feet, before slipping his arm under your knees and an arm around your shoulders, scooping you up against his chest.

You sighed softly, wrapping your arms around his neck, while he carried you to the bathroom. “I missed you.” You whispered into his ear, as he stepped into the tub, lowering you both into it.

“And I, you.” Geralt replied, holding you in his lap and resting back. “Ciri and Jaskier are well, by the way.” He said, his fingertips stroking the skin of your side, beneath the water. “Ciri is being watched over by Yennefer, who's helping her try and control her magic and Jaskier was with Anika, last I left him.”

“Anika?” You frowned, tilting your head back against his shoulder. “Why is Julian with Anika? If he's well.”

Geralt's thick, scarred arms squeezed around you, almost painfully, making you squirm in his lap. “You remember my mother.” He mumbled, barely audible. “Visenna.” He said so quietly, you had to strain to hear it.

“Yes, I recall you telling me of her, a few years after we met.” You murmured, seeing the strained expression on his face. “And that you'd seen her at Sodden Hill. She healed you, after the ghoul bite.”

“I remember bits of my life with my Ma.” He rasped, his grasp on you loosening, but he still held you close to him. “She smelled like embers, from keeping our measly fires alive during the long nights.” He told you, the crease between his golden eyes slowly vanishing as he went back to that time, tapping into that abandoned little boy, he had never grown out of, but skillfully concealed from those he didn't cherish. “We were quite poor, even though she was skilled as a healer. So, she-” He paused, his voice thickening and his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

You looked up at him, seeing the redness in the whites of his eyes and the unshed tears threatening on his lashes. It frightened you to see the Witcher like this. In the fifteen years you'd known him, you'd seen him in many states, but you had never seen Geralt cry. Reaching up, you cupped his scruffy cheek in your hand and thumbed a droplet away, pressing your lips to his jawline.

“She would use her magic to create the most elaborate meals that we couldn't afford.” He continued, tilting his head into your hand. “There was—I would have done anything to make her smile. And yet,” He voice broke again, this time with more than just hurt and abandonment, but with resentment. “The day she left me, she was sick. She needed some water, so I went to get her some, and when I came back to the road...she was gone.” He croaked, pushing his jaw forward and shaking his head, trying to deny the burn of more tears.

His fingertips pressed into the skin of your side and back. “I called for her.” He said weakly, his golden eyes off in the distance. “But she was gone.” He whimpered, the tears finally winning out, dripping off his jaw and into your hair and the bath water.

You squeezed your eyes shut, pressing your forehead to his neck and hugging your arms around his torso. You had known Visenna had abandoned Geralt. He had told you that bluntly not long after you had met. The torture of her leaving him there, to be taken away to Kaer Morhen, where he'd suffered such agony in his transformation into a Witcher, at just five years old, coupled with the pain he never got over with his mother.

You wondered how Geralt had survived at all.

But no, Geralt was strong, even from a young age.

“She's dead.”

You pulled out of your thoughts, shocked. “She's dead?”

“She was giving aid to some villager and was mistaken as an Elf.” Geralt told you, bringing a hand out of the water to wipe it over his face. “They beat her severely and she later died, at the Temple of Mourning, where Anika was. Which is how I found out.”

“I'm so sorry, Geralt.” You cooed, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, connecting the dots to his arrival. “I hope the two of you were able to make some sort of easement between you, when you last met.”

Geralt pressed his lips together and buried his face into your hair, his throat too tight to speak in the moment. He considered how he and Visenna last met, in the forest outside of Sodden Hill, as he laid feverish and hallucinating from a Ghoul bite to the leg. After saving a poor Merchant, who was trying to bury the dead from a camp Nilfgaard had attacked. At first, she had tried to conceal her identity from him, pretending to be Renfri, Yennefer and finally, you, before he managed to discover who it really was. Triggered by her belief that, People linked by Destiny, will always find each other.

He asked her what she thought of his eyes. Demanding to know, if she knew what they did to improve a Witcher's eyes. Telling her that it didn't always work. She had begged him to stop. Calling him by his name, only for Geralt to reject her right to do so, like she had rejected him. He had begged to know if she knew how many boys actually made it through the Trials. Tears filled both of their eyes as they stared at each other in the darkness.

In the end, his Ma had left him, again, fading into the night, trying to convince him she was just a dream and he would never get the answer he wanted.

So, had he made peace with his mother abandoning him, forcing him on the Path of the Witcher?

No. Geralt decided in the end, he had not.

The only thing Geralt did know was he wanted you. You were the first person he had thought of, upon finding out about his mother's death. Wanting to feel you against him and needing the comfort only you were able to provide. You shifted out of Geralt's lap, moving around him, while reaching over the side of the tub, grabbing the small cup that sat on the foot board there. Dipping it into the water and gently pouring it over Geralt's silvery-white strands, you set aside and took up a round, solid bar of honey and chamomile scented soap, using it to work his hair into a rich lather. Geralt moaned, feeling your fingers massage his scalp, resting forward to prop his elbows on his bent knees, eyes falling shut.

“I love you.” He murmured, quietly.

You stopped, resting your hands on his broad shoulders. “You've never said that before.” You said, looking around at him, mouth softly agape.

“No?” Geralt rasped, cocking a brow over his shoulder at you.

“Not once, in all these years.” You assured him, your hand gently massaging the scarred muscle of his neck.

He turned to you, causing the cooling water to slosh over the edge. “Then, I have a great deal of making up to do.” He cooed, reaching out to cup your face in his rough palm. “Because I do. I love you. Out of everyone, besides perhaps Jaskier and Vesemir, you know me better than anyone, and no one has ever taken better care of me than you have.” He told you, his face betraying the emotions a Witcher truly had, but guarded for their most treasured person, and not those of an abandoned child, rather those of a man in love.

“I love you too, Geralt.” You assured him, turning your head to kiss his hand. “And I will always care for you, me bleidd.” You whispered, picking up the cup to continue washing his hair.

#henry cavill #henrycavill #viking-raider fics #geralt of rivia #the witcher #geralt #witcher #A Witcher's Soul #A Witcher's Soul *fic*#hurt/comfort #Geralt of Rivia x You #Geralt of Rivia x Reader #Geralt of Rivia Fluff #Angst #Fluff #Visenna #Geralt's Ma #Character Death #major character death

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virgincels · 1 month

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SUBSTITUTE LOVER !

ft. jack krauser x fem!reader, jack krauser x leon s. kennedy

tags. p in v, daddy-daughter incest, internalised homophobia, referenced domestic abuse, use of the f slur im so sorry, some kreon, smut, a little voyeurism, blood at the end

note. commission for @d10nyx !!!! feeding people what they want :3 nyxie wyxie i hope this is good n i hope u enjoy it!!!!’ LUV U MWAH.. ignore any mistakes… my editing sucks 😓 goes back n forth between krauser n reader pov pretty fast n the smut is a little boring 😓 pretend bootcamp is like not super top secret !!! also idk how american military works so ignore my attempt at that

As a young girl, you understand love to be an unconditional, non-negotiable and non-refundable thing. It’s human nature to love, it is your god given right to love and for your father to deny you of the only thing your heart knows to do—It’s downright cruel.

He’s a military man and that comes with perks. You get to visit his platoon and get an eyeful of bulging quads and strong jaws and sweaty abs— That is the only perk now that you think about it. Oh, and that cute blond dude who still has all his hair. Duh. Otherwise he wouldn’t be blond. He’s a total babe and when he smiles, blinking at you with feline eyes as he watches quietly from behind his bangs, you find yourself keeling over to support the weight of your aching heart.

(Pussyache, heartache, it’s all the same to you.)

Whenever you ask your dad what’s so special about him, why’s he got such shiny hair? What shampoo does he use? Is it a medical condition, does he have to keep the hair? Does his head get cold or something? He goes all stiff like you’ve asked too much of him, which you never have, you ask for nothing but love.

Ever since your mother left—Well, no it’s not even that. He didn’t change when she left. Dad is the same ol’ dad you’ve had for years. Jack is Jack and your mother isn’t going to change that, she didn’t change that, so she left and never looked back. She left you ‘cause you’re Jack’s girl and nothing is going to change that. You carry a part of your father wherever you go and that would be unwelcome in her house. She told you over the phone that she no longer needed all that medication - it was just your father.

Oh, he’s not so bad. Jack keeps you fed and clothed and what else are you meant to expect from a dad? No dads love is adequate to the way you love them. Never has and never will be.

Still, he’s changed and that you’re sure of.

His temper is short, you’re well aware. You live with the guy, of course you know all about it. He flips out when the toilet lid isn’t closed, and when you give him a gentle reminder that you don’t carry the same junk he does down there, Jack gives you the cold shoulder. It’s all about gentle parenting with your dad, but the sulking has escalated into full blown temper tantrums and you don’t know where you’ve gone wrong.

Dad’s never gotten physical. Until he does. And now you don’t remember a time where he was ever kind. You’re beaten into a pulp by the hand that feeds you and you’re not quite sure where it all went wrong, what you’ve done to be on the receiving end of such intense resentment.

All you’ve ever known is a man devoted to anger, but he’s not violent. Your dad is not violent. He’s the one who picked you up when you toppled over, he taught you how to ride a bike and he put you on his shoulders to see the world from his point of view— And that is it really. Nothing more, nothing less.

You don’t have daddy issues so to say, more so it’s your father that has issues in general, and those issues are untouched by any flame, they burn brighter than tiger eyes. It seems that they’ve started to fracture, and now the only thing that brings him relief is his fist on your supple skin, a cathartic end to a hard fucking day.

Let’s get one thing straight - Jack Krauser is not a faggot. Jack had a wife and he fucked that wife in the marriage bed once and they never fucked again. You were conceived on the first try.

A faggot couldn’t do that.

It starts with Leon S. Kennedy. He’s wet behind the ears and wet in his pink mouth and pink hole. He stares at Jack like he’s seen something nice, then he looks away a moment later, unable to hold his gaze.

Jack Krauser isn’t gay. It just gets lonely out here. It gets hard to keep his men in line and nothing scares them more than dick. Jack Krauser is not gay—And when Kennedy’s tight little hole cranks him in like a wine cork, it means nothing. This is how you get through to insolent brats, it’s the only way, no other method has worked as well as this.

If Jack Krauser was gay he would lounge in the bunk with Kennedy, he would tenderly wipe the sweat from his blond brows and kiss him stupid. But he does none of that. Kennedy is sent to shower, limping as he goes.

(Not before Jack gives him a nice hard smack on his backside and tells him to Pack it up, Boy Scout. Not before Leon presses his nose into the hollows of his neck, his boyish beam is that of a cat that got the cream, sweat gleaming to highlight the shape of his collarbones.)

So yeah. Jack is straight, and he can prove it. He would be able to prove it but the only bitch for miles left him. There’s you. But that’s fucked up. Jack wouldn’t go there.

Then you start to ask questions about Kennedy. And of course it’s him, with the petal lips and tawny lashes that remind Jack of toffee drizzled on coffee cake, of course he caught your attention— Of course he did.

(Like father, like daughter.)

You prod and he snaps, icy eyes a frigid landscape as his gaze pierces you with bone-chilling intensity. You shift from foot to foot, toying with loose threads at the hemline of your frayed nightdress.

“Sorry, dad.” You look down at your feet, wiggle your toes against the kitchen tiles and get sent into the edge of the counter when Jack lands a solid hit on your cheek.

Why, he oughta use some of that military training on you. Not the dick. Not ‘cause he’s gay, but because you’re his daughter. Obviously.

Definitely not ‘cause he’s gay.

Jack could fuck you if he really wanted. You have some, uh, assets. Yeah, you have tits, those are interesting. You have an ass, that’s nice. Got a pussy, an extra bonus. All of those are things that Jack loves. Really, he does, and he doesn’t need to prove it to anyone.

Jack takes your chin in his crushing grip, tilts your head to the left and then to the right, you tremble and make yourself small, clutching at the counter behind like you intend to saw yourself in half so your top half can make a quick escape.

“Dad…” Your little hand wraps around his wrist, fingers barely touching as you try to get him off, shaken up by his sudden burst of violence. “I’m sorry.”

He grunts, releasing you from his hold and watching your body crumple in on itself. You cup your cheek to check for damage, pressing the pads of your fingers into your jaw with a groan.

It throbs with each pulse of Jack’s heart.

You think your dad has a crush on the rookie. It might be a stretch, but he never looked at your mom that way. It transcends love and turns into hatred and heat ‘cause your dad is incapable of producing any positive feelings towards anyone ever. You would know that better than anyone, you know him better than anyone, better than he knows himself.

His tongue runs along his white canines as he watches Kennedy hold a plank and man, he’s got it bad for the rookie. You don’t blame him - look at that form, at that ass. Dad has good taste, he gets it! Now that the two of you have found some common ground, maybe he’ll stop backhanding you into next year.

Kennedy’s given mercy by your oh-so gracious father and his body caves in, hitting the mud with a soft thump—He gets up ass first and you suck in a breath at the same time your dad lets one out. His hips raise and his hands find grip in the ground before he plants his feet, lifting his body despite the discomfort that tinges his muscles. Kennedy hobbles away and you love watching him leave. Dad must think the same ‘cause he reaches down to adjust his cargos. Gross.

You catch them in the showers a week later.

You got bored waiting around for him, okay? The showers were your main priority—Not to see this, but to catch some hunks mid scrub down and turn the place into a porn set. Life has a funny way of taking all your wants and twisting them into half-wants. Seeing Leon naked? Great, amazing, no notes. Seeing your father naked? Dear fucking lord, you need a bullet put through your brain stat.

They're giving each other a muscle massage or whatever. Code for the most tender groping you have ever seen in your life. Dad cradles the back of Leon’s head sweetly. Jesus, you don’t think you’ve ever used that word to describe him. Their lips brush and Kennedy is the one that pulls back, Jack’s head moves forward to chase them, settling with ghosting kisses along the soft skin of Leon’s neck, dotted in cocoa dust moles and a protruding Adam’s apple that gets the same delicate treatment. Along with a quick lick that draws a moan from the base of Leon’s throat.

You think you might be intruding on something more personal than sex. Holy fuck, you didn’t know your dad could do personal, you didn’t know he had the ability to love so ardently. To love at all. What a dick. You don’t know whether to look away or not.

Like, Leon is—He’s cute. You like when his feathery lashes dust his cheeks each time he closes his eyes, you like how his body, soft with baby fat, gives away to the roughness of your father’s touch. The flesh of his hips divots when Jack grips them. Your father presses his back to the cool shower wall, the buttery flesh of Leon’s ass moulds to the shape of his fingers when he tugs him close to his broad chest— Cute, he has back dimples. Jack slots his thumbs in them, and then he makes the mistake of lifting his eyes from Leon’s angel face.

The running water is not enough to stop him from spotting you, head poked into the shower room as you gape. For your sake, you dip out the door to make your exit and head back to the car, not sure on whether you should be traumatised or enlightened by the possibly harrowing image that’s burned into your retinas like the worst form of LASIK.

The ride home is silent. Dad is silent most of the time, he talks but not to you. There’s one thing to talk about, but you doubt either of you want to touch on that.

Jack lets you in first. The door clicks shut behind him and you’re both alone. He’s always alone with you. He’s never missed his wife until this very moment. Not out of love for her, but out of pure convenience. She would break up the silence, she would remind him that he is in fact attracted to women and what you saw back there was nothing. Hell, he could give you another sibling if you asked—He could do that.

In one try, like a real man.

He could get it up, he can get it up, he only gets it up for women. Kennedy is the closest thing to a girl, alright? That’s all there is. Wait till you find out about what they do in prison. Every guy at camp has had a turn with Kennedy—That’s just how it works. It’s not about being gay, it’s not— It’s just tradition, isn’t it? Picking on pretty boys like that, it’s the only way to get rid of all that pent up testosterone or whatever it is that swelters within Jack.

When you turn on your heels to leave for your bedroom, Jack calls your name. You freeze so fast it’s almost comical. Like you’re playing musical chairs.

“Yes, dad?” Your gaze is stuck to your white socks, the print of the floorboards is mighty interesting.

His brow dips and his scowl morphs into a pained smile that brings you more fear than comfort, his hand is heavy on your shoulder and Jack thinks this expression suits you well.

“You think you're smart?” Barging in like that, making assumptions that only women would make—You don’t get it. You’ll never get it.

“No, sir.” The chill that runs down your spine straightens it.

“On your knees, girl.” The way you’re looking at him—He hates it. You think you got him all figured out, putting him together like a puzzle, but you’re missing one piece—He’s not gay.

“No,” you say while doing as he says.

(Kennedy does that, cries out No! as the plush of his ass meets Jack’s thighs, as he fucks himself like a faggot on a dick that belongs to a man who once had a wife, a man with a daughter.)

“Dad, no—Daddy, I’m sorry, I didn’t even see anything.” You hang your head, pleading with the ground as Jack fishes his soft cock from his cargos, refusing to meet the tip with your eyes.

Your apology is lost to the softness of his dick, hanging huge and limp against his thigh like a deflated balloon. Fuck—No, no, it’s not because Jack is gay, it’s the daughter thing. You’re his daughter, and to get hard at the sight of your daughter would only ever elicit a prison sentence.

“Daddy,” you try again, cradling what you have with him close to your chest, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—Please, daddy, I don’t—Dad.” You fail to plead your case, you fail to garner any interest from his cock. “If it’s about—I don’t like him, I don’t like Leon, dad, you can have him, he’s all yours I swear—Just don’t do this to me, daddy, please.”

Jack’s cock twitches at the mere mention of his name.

“What did I tell you ‘bout running that stupid mouth of yours, girl? Where are your fuckin’ manners?” He rubs the ruddy tip along the crease of your jutting lips, the bottom one trembles. “Thought I taught you well.”

“No… No, don’t do that, dad—God, no.” Your complaints are snuffed out by the fat dick that stuffs itself down your throat, half-hard and thick enough to be a choking hazard.

(It poses a threat to you, but not to Kennedy. Man can that kid suck cock, with a face like that he’s lucky he’s not begging for his life.)

You gag and Jack pinches your nose. If he had a son, he would’ve taught him to play ball. But he’s stuck with a daughter, and the most you can do is dig your nails into his thighs, mucusy spit hanging from your chin in stringy strands.

“You’re made for this,” Jack tells you, and he’s right. Biologically, those lips of yours have evolved to maximum pout to suck cock. They bear resemblance to Leon’s—The vein on the underside of his dick throbs. Jack’s jaw is offset as his teeth grind together, splintering into thin shards of bone. Not the fucking time to be thinking of the rookie and his floppy hair, softer than cotton beneath Jack’s fingers, the rookie who is shaven clean save the shadow that lines his lips, the rookie that sports hardened lines on his otherwise plush abdomen, pink skin leading to an even pinker dick—Holy shit, what’s wrong with him?

At this pace, Jack’s going to contact a fucking therapist—Have it out with his bitch wife. That’s exactly what it is. Sexual frustration he's not been able to take out on your mother.

His cock slips from your mouth, it rests heavy on your face, casts a shadow as you cower at the sheer size. “Dad…” You cough wetly, hacking up bile that you push back down with a pained gulp. “Daddy… Don’t do it to me, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to look, dad, I’m not—I’m not mad at you.”

He scoffs, lifting you by the Peter Pan collar of your floral blouse—You look like a fucking Mormon. That pisses him off. Jack’s not a Mormon or a faggot, there are so many accusations in the air and it all rises to crescendo. You’re bent over the dining table, the fullness of your skirt is hoisted up to ruche around your waist in makeshift pleats and your white cotton panties are dangling around your ankles.

The lips of your puffy cunt cushion his dick and Jack starts to feel a little queasy. Not because—Not ‘cause of the pussy. It’s not that. It’s the daughter thing. Seriously—There’s no time to waste, Jack forces himself into your pussy before his dick folds in on itself. As he pistons himself in and out of your only partially wet cunt, it feels like nothing. Jack is numb.

Feels nothing, hears nothing—Sees nothing but him. The anger inside of him rises like a devastating wave, ready to engulf every skyscraper in its path. You end up being on the receiving end as you have been for as long as you’ve been alive—His very own punching bag. What else are kids for, huh?

Your stubborn pussy pushes him out, you dig your nails into the glazed wood of the table, clawing like they might find purchase in the grooves. Dad, dad, daddy, dad—It doesn’t work on him, you do nothing for him. When you cry, he doesn’t feel sad, and when your cunt clamps down on him, it brings him no pleasure.

A hand comes to rest on your back, forcing you into a sharp arch as Jack’s hips smack into yours at a bruising pace. Somewhere along the line, a very thin line that Jack snorts, it blurs—Your salty tears become the tang of Leon’s sweat, your hips become buttercream smooth in his grip, and your pussy—Your hole milks Jack for all he’s worth. The shroud has lifted from his shoulders and Jack feels weightless.

You lift your head, blood leaking from your nose, it congeals in fat lumps on your skin. “Daddy…” You sniffle, having had your head held down, grinding your bloody nose to a pulp against the smooth of the dinner table.

“Clean yourself up, girl.” Jack rolls his shoulders back, fists tightly balled by his side as he has proved nothing. Nothing at all. He’ll have to try again. No father of yours is a faggot. Can’t do that to his little girl.

(Excuse after fucking excuse.)

#jack krauser x reader #jack krauser smut #krauser smut #resident evil angst #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #jack krauser x you #krauser x reader #dead dove do not eat

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general--winter · 10 months

Note

How Genin Naruto, Sasuke, Neji, Hinata, Sakura, Rock Lee react to going on a go mission in a long time and when they return the reader is waiting for them at the gate and is so happy that they are back that he hugs them and ends up knocking them down and doesn't let go of them for a while and stays with them all day. (The reader and they are in love with each other)

author's note: First post in a long time! I took a little bit of a liberty with some of the characters, but the general idea is there for all of them. It was a while since I got this request and I was working off of the material I had written in my Google Drive (and the majority of this request was written two months ago), so if you would like me to rewrite some of the entries please let me know. I can do that. For now, though, I hope you all enjoy!

rating: general

fandom: naruto

pairings: genin!uzumaki naruto x gn!reader, genin!uchiha sasuke x gn!reader, genin!hyuga neji x gn!reader, genin!hyuga hinata x gn!reader, genin!haruno sakura x gn!reader, genin!rock lee x gn!reader

word count: 2038

summary: Greeting the genins when they come back from a long mission!

Uzumaki Naruto

When returning from a week away, Naruto is dorking out to Sasuke, Sakura, and Kakashi about how he totally helped out when the enemy was attacking the three of them. Sakura gets in a word about how he was tussling with cats, not enemy shinobi, before you leapt off a roof onto Naruto’s back.

The unexpected piggyback ride leaves him stumbling and bristling, screaming, “WHO IS THAT?!” In response, you lock your legs around his torso and grip his shoulders through the flailing, giggling like a maniac. When he hears your laugh, Naruto whips his head up to get a glimpse of you and… well… this has the result you’d think it would.

The back of his head slams into your nose and you release your grip, the two of you now nursing matching wounds as the rest of Team 7 stands off to the side watching the show with deadpan expressions.

“What was that for, Uzumaki? I was just trying to say hi!” you would quip, pointing a finger from your free hand at him, your other pressing into your face to quell the pain.

“It’s not MY fault that I was ambushed!” he would yell, pointing back at you. At this point, you two were attracting the attention of the civilians and Team 7 needed to drag you two away forcefully.

After the two of you calmed down, you ended up apologizing for scaring Naruto with your silly prank. He laughs it off and accepts, saying it was an accident and that it was pretty funny and harmless in the end. He even offers you another piggyback ride around the village, this time without the headbutting, which causes your heart to beat a little faster as you accept.

Uchiha Sasuke

As usual after returning to Konoha with Team 7, the only people to greet them at the gate were Sakura’s parents. Naruto darted off to… wherever the hell he goes to cause mayhem, while Kakashi simply vanished into the air, leaving Sasuke to make his way home alone. To the empty Uchiha compound. He always took the long way.

However, this particular day, it seemed that he had a shadow — you. Sasuke knew you’d been following him since about halfway through his walk home, when he spotted your ninja garb through the crowds swiftly taking cover in an alleyway. Half of him was always irked by your insistence that you spend time with him. Didn’t you have anything else better to do? But the shameless part of him, the one that yearned for a friend, was thankful that you took the time out of your day to be with him despite his prickly and cold attitude. Besides Team 7, you were the only one that ever kept trying; only you could possibly understand the motives behind that decision. Does he feel guilty about it? Yes, damn it, he does. He should be focused on his goals, not whatever the hell this is. Something in him is healing, though. And tells him to let you in. Just a little bit.

On the threshold of the compound, you stepped from Sasuke’s peripheral and appeared with a bag of treats. “Hey, Sasuke!” you greeted with a wide smile. “I saw you got back while I was out in the markets,” You noted the scrapes and bruises over his body, as well as the state of his clothing and his sour expression. “Rough mission?”

He would respond with an affirmative noise, taking the bag from your hands and leading the way to his house. There, you would chew his ear off with stories about your training and small missions while he sat in silence, sharpening his dull kunai and shuriken from the mission. The rest of the compound may have been haunted by the ghosts of the massacre, but right now, something in Sasuke felt a little bit at ease in that household for the first time in years as you and him munched on junk food together.

Hyuga Neji

The second that you get word that Team Guy is expected to return from their long-term mission, you plant yourself at the gates to welcome them back. They must be far away, however, since you’ve been lounging with the guards for way too long, playing cards and gossiping about practically every other shinobi in the village.

In the blink of an eye, one after another, two flashes of green speed through the gates, leaving clouds of dust billowing. The draft from, assumedly, Lee and Guy’s movements, sent the cards from your game of blackjack spiraling into the air. The chunin assigned guard began lunging for everyone’s cards to get an upper hand, leaving you to struggle for just your own. You had a damn good hand, too! At least you thought? Of course this would happen…

Tenten shot by soon after, begging for her sensei and team mate to “please stop this nonsense”. It barely occurred to you, though, that the one person you were looking for was still missing as you lunged and grabbed for your cards. Your vision had tunneled up with your head, your gaze flickering to the… Huh? Where your cards were once fluttering in the air is now only blue sky.

“Hey!” you shouted, whipping your head down and around. “Which one of you took my cards? Picking on the genin, are you? How—”

“I have them right here,” a voice snarked from your left, putting five fanned-out cards right over your field of vision. “You should probably fold soon. You’ve only got seven out of twenty-one. Unless you’re the one that bet that entire pile of chocolate.”

“Neji! You’re back too!” You snatched the cards from his outstretched hand and turned to the regrouped chunin, throwing your cards down on the dirt face-up. “I fold.” In one fluid motion, you turned and took Neji’s wrapped forearm in your hand, taking him into the streets of Konoha. He opened his mouth to complain, but not before you shut him right up with a wide smirk, telling him this is exactly what he advised.

Hyuga Hinata

Daring not to sprint with the delicate pastries in your grasp, you walked hastily towards the main entrance of Konoha. Team Eight was supposed to already be there. Have you missed them? Maybe Kiba held them up somewhere along the way following some random animal’s poop scent for a prank. That situation would certainly not be ideal, but at least you would be able to see Hinata the second she got back to the village.

Unfortunately, you seemed to be a little late as you caught her in the shadow of the shopping crowds. You approached in her direct view and waved to make sure she wasn’t shocked too much. But you still enjoyed the slight flush of her cheeks and little smile that you could only catch if you were truly paying attention to her.

“Hinata!” you called, handing the box to her as she whispered a greeting in return. “I got you these pastries! I was wondering if maybe you wanted to go find somewhere around to hang out and eat them with me?”

“Oh!” She reached out and snatched the offering with a swiftness you didn’t know she possessed. Still holding it out, Hinata bowed to you with a small “thank you!” coming out before she panicked and took off with an air of sorrow. What you didn’t see was her blush shoot up to her ears and down her neck.

“Ah! No, I wanted to share them!” you sighed with a laugh, beginning the chase. I wanted to spend time with you! Hinata does, too. She just needs a minute to get that darn blush off of her face! Though, when you do catch up with her and sit down, you note that her ears stayed red the rest of the day.

Haruno Sakura

Sakura really wasn’t sure what the heck all of the petals were for. She was initially shocked senseless when her parents weren’t there to greet Team Seven. Everyone milled by like they didn’t exist. Naruto wanted to drag everyone to Ichiraku’s, but being tired of his nonsense after the past week, Sakura allowed her attention and stride to wander away from the group after giving a half-hearted farewell. When she rounded a corner, a cherry blossom petal in the breeze caught her attention.

She thought it wasn’t even cherry blossom season. Was this a genjutsu? Or maybe they were fake. Determined now to find out, Sakura began to follow upwind, the direction from which the petals came from. The further she worked into the forest, the more she was convinced it was a genjutsu — she could smell the cherry blossom. Her hand twitched over her kunai strap as she worked her chakra network overtime to disrupt the illusion.

Awaiting at the destination was what seemed to be a massive pool of the pink petals. If Sakura wasn’t convinced this was some sort of trap, she would be in awe of the beauty surrounding her. A completely normal summer forest with a pocket of spring right here.

“You won’t find any disruptions in your network because there’s no genjutsu.” You rounded a tree trunk, a picnic basket in hand. “I just wanted to get you away from your team for the rest of the day. You’ve probably had more than enough of them.”

“Oh my gosh. Oh my GOSH. You are the best!” Sakura squealed, jumping down from the trees, hugging and twirling you.

You invite her to sit on the blanket of petals you set up, preserves you managed to purchase with your savings from Ino’s family’s store. (Of course, you’d never tell her that.) It seems like you’re able to guess all of her favorite foods and drinks as you whip them out of the basket comedically, pretending to summon everything like a magician.

Until sundown, the two of you are able to enjoy a relaxing afternoon in the quiet ambiance of the surrounding forests of Konoha, the only noises being your uproarious laughter and soft gossip breaking just over the static of the leaves in the wind.

Rock Lee

(The same beginning situation as Neji’s, so if it’s familiar, that’s why!)

In the blink of an eye, one after another, two flashes of green speed through the gates, leaving clouds of dust billowing. You take off after them across the rooftops without thinking, wanting to greet Lee. Vaguely behind you, you can hear Neji and Tenten yelling at them to stop, that their race was supposed to be over at the gate. It took a good few moments before they actually were able to pump the brakes and de-accelerate, kicking up the dirt road.

You, however, purposefully ram yourself into Lee’s back from above like a hawk, giving him a hug that almost puts him out on the ground. “Welcome back! I missed you,” you yell, interrupting his argument with Guy-sensei on who stepped over the threshold first. He greets you warmly after recovering from the shock, returning your hug with just as much vigor. “I am sorry for leaving for so long, but we are back!”

“Ah, how wonderful youth is!” You forgot that Guy-sensei was right there, so you withdrew, a bit bashful. “Let me ask you, young (Y/N), who did you see enter the village first? You were there, right?”

You confess that in all honesty, you were not focused on that at all, just the fact that your friends were all back. At this point, Tenten and Neji catch up, ready to give the lecture of a life. Which is why you’re not surprised at all when your ride spins around and takes off to avoid the scolding, laughing and trying to figure out where the two of you want to lead them for a post-mission meal.

#naruto #naruto fanfiction #gender neutral reader #uzumaki naruto #uzumaki naruto x reader #uchiha sasuke #uchiha sasuke x reader #hyuga neji #hyuga neji x reader #hyuga hinata #hyuga hinata x reader #haruno sakura #haruno sakura x reader #rock lee #rock lee x reader #request #headcanon

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danibeanie · 3 months

Text

Cancer mars post 🤍

(Also moon-mars aspects!)

-I really feel like this placement resonates the most with me when it comes to my natal chart. The funny thing is that it makes NO aspects with any other planets.

-I’ve heard somewhere that a planet that doesn’t make any aspects with other planets is important because it’s just itself with no other influences.

-wherever you have this placement with definitely influence that house x10. I feel like planets in their fall or detriment just impact your whole chart in general.

Positives 🩵

-your intuition is literally amped 100 by this placement. someone can be talking to me in a different tone than usual and I can just sense there’s something wrong and they’re like HOW DID U KNOW??😭

-emotions are strong and it’s because it’s influence links with the moon. we know that the moon is who we are deep within, our hidden feelings. anything I do makes me want to work even HARDER because it’s all sooo personal to me 🥲

-strong empathy with this placement you naturally put yourself into others people shoes, want to take care of others and it just comes by instinct.

-people many call you super nice and your just talking LMAO. I have this placement in my 3rd house which is ruled by communication so it’s just natural for me to embody the placement when I’m talk.

-ex you can have this in the 7th house and your just super giving into any relationships kinda intense lol, 10th house people at work may see you as mother😋 (kidding) a nurturing person.

-a lot of passion, many people forget that cancer mars is a CARDINAL sign which means it’s easy for these people to fall into a leader position. we are go getters and can be a bit competitive.

Negatives🩶

-any conflict that we have is literally the end of the world. It’s feels like impending doom when I’m mad at someone because the only way I can control this is by crying 😭

- we hold grudges *sigh* , no but really it will take me so long to forgive someone and it’s hard to let go of that bitterness. Its just that we are so considerate so when someone does something we would never do it’s hard to let go of that situation.

-mood swings are there and other people can easily get affected by this as well. we can be fine and dandy then we think about something that hurt us from 5 months ago and then we get passive.

^im very self aware of this and I try not to let it happen and when it does I isolate myself

-most of our anger is directed towards family???😭 idk if it’s just me but my family tends to see the ugly side of this placement. no one’s ever seen me SUPER-mad except for my parents.

-does anyone else get HORRIBLE,UNBEARABLE periods?!? I feel like no one talks about this.

-AVOID CONFRONTATION like no other and then we wonder why we hold grudges cause WE DONT TALK IT OUT LMAO.

-it’s easy to get drained of tasks that your not emotionally invested in or see no future in. I can make a whole rant on how this affects my school life but that’s too much.*sigh*

Influential musicians 🩵

chester bennington(lead singer of linkin park) also had a cancer mars.(may he rest in peace🤍) A lot of rock and heavy metal musicians have cancer mars which is ironic because they put all that passion and emotion into their lyrics and singing.

-lana del rey is a cancer mars and I feel like she embodies this placement fully. even by her lyrics and just the way she talks.

IN CONCLUSION 🩵

-being a cancer mars has its ups and down and so many people pertain to its negatives. I believe that people with the fallen/detriment placements all naturally have their positives as well. it’s definitely a placement you have to live and learn by. I love this placement because it humbles me, gives me empathy and kindness ,but don’t cross us cause then we’ll reciprocate that rudeness 10x harder.

#cancer mars #astrology content #astro observations #astro community #lana del rey #cancer placements

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robynlilyblack · 2 years

Text

You had one job Weasley!

Fred Weasley x fem! slytherin! reader

Summary: Fred and Y/n are on opposite sides of the war, engaging in a dangerous game of sneaking around, but will their luck run out when the final battle is upon them?

Warnings: swearing, angst, sad and happy fluff, mentions of war, death, murder, injuries, blood, grief as well as Greyback and Bellatrix being ruthless, established relationship, secret relationship, hurt/comfort, kissing, remus lupin lives, only proofread once x

A/n: 6.5k words, Timothy Greengrass and Joey Taggert are my OC's, wolfstar implied but if you ship remdora it's written neutral x thank you for the request, as you can see I missed writting for freddie and hence wrote alot, please enjoy xx

Navigation | Fred Weasley Masterlist

Your leg bobbed uncontrollably, paranoia seeping through your brain at every small noise you heard, even the wisp of the the wind had hairs standing up. This wasn’t how you pictured your late teens, you expected some drama sure, maybe some minor life threatening when your original plan to run away with your boyfriend was discovered, but a war, becoming an order spy, having to shield your thoughts constantly from the darkest and most powerful wizard of your generation? Yeah…maybe paranoia was an understatement

Currently you were deep down a lane off diagon alley yet you could just about see the orange hue of your boyfriends shop shining down the far end. You checked yours…well actually Sirius’ pocket watch, it was 4 in the morning. Fred was likely not awake yet you hoped the light of your patronus was enough to wake him through the window.

There was a risk George or Lee may see it, but they wouldn’t connect it to you. Deatheaters were known to be unable to cast them, only exceptions were you, Timothy and your late friend as you highly doubted a man like Snape could do it. On top of that there was no words, no message with it, because Fred would know it was you, just like he always did

“Please come” you whisper, hugging yourself as the winter cold cut straight through your jumper and jacket

You probably should have worn something more, but you loved this jacket, it was cool, Sirius wherever he was now would totally approve. In fact the jacket was his, given to you from when you did run away. Yet less than a year later you would lose him and be forced by Snape and Dumbledore to return to your parents and the dark wanker himself. You would go on to convince them you were only doing as the former told you in order to gain their trust and to do that you had to make it completely believable.

Your parents were typical slytherins, yet even though you pretty much knew most slyhterins were arseholes you were proud to be one. It took a while for people to trust you.

Sirius trusted you the moment you arrived at his door, you’d later understand why as he did the same thing when he was your age. Remus followed his friend's suit and Harry trusted his godfather.

The Weasleys were cautious and all but Fred remained so, his trust grew quickly much like your crushes, to the point you were a couple by the time your final year began.

Hermione never trusted you, to the point you and your friends weren’t invited to the DA, even after Fred went off on her for it. You didn’t blame her, nor argued your way in, yet you felt sick that she was probably revealing now about how she was right. How everyone would say you were this monster just like Peter. How Sirius would be so disappointed in you now. How you…

“Hey”

You dart around, extending your wand

“Just me love” Fred lets out a chuckle

You let out a shaky breath, heartbeat returning to normal

Lowering your wand you took a second to admire him, he looked the exact same. Same light in his eyes, same goofy smile…same terrible colour scheme…orange and blue fred? What are you an Irn bru can?

Fred may have looked like he was joking, taking things slow and letting you come to him. Yet in reality all he wanted to do was take you in his arms and never let you go. He was constantly worried, to the point that not even George knew he was meeting with you, everyone in the world saw you as a traitor but not him.

“You just gonna drool over my banging physique or are you gonna kiss me?” he gestures to himself

He watches you let out a small laugh at his joke and it kills him. The light in your eyes had almost faded into nothing but a mere sparkle when you looked at him. The girl that was his underground agent back in his last year of hogwarts was now in the major leagues, risking her life more than he or most of the order were, his radio and missions child's play compared to you

Snape had tried to break his heart, told you there could be no loose ends but you refused. Instead you told him everything and offered to obliviate him if he wanted after, giving him the choice. That choice made him love you all the more, he knew remembering was dangerous, but in no world he wanted to forget you, hate you, if not for himself but you as well.

“You want me to come to you?” he offers and you nod, upper face scrunching like you want to cry but have no tears left to fall, the war had sucked you dry

He wraps his arms around you, nose nudging into your hair. It was greasy and tangled, swept back in a clear attempt to hide it. He didn’t mind. You still smelled like you, the same thing he breathed in every night as he kept your scarf, well his old scarf that you stole, on the pillow you should be sleeping on. It was even charmed to hold your scent, and above all your place until you could return to him

“Hi” you mumble into his jacket, arms clutching onto him like he’s going to disappear

“Hi” he whispers back, holding you that little bit closer before he pulls back

Your hands still cling onto him but your head tilts up so you can see his face, leaning into his hand as it cups your cheek. His eyes flick over your face, lips parted as his thumb glides over your cheek

“What are you doing?” You ask softly, a little shy under his gaze

“Memorising every inch of you….just in case” he answers truthfully, you both knew by now it was likely one or both of you may not make it through this so you savoured every moment like it was the last

He leans in and kisses your forehead. It’s lingering. His heart aching that this was the way it had to be. That everytime he sees you he tries to remember every feature, blemish, indentation, that little hue of colour in your eyes you can only see up close. When you leave it’ll replay in his mind every night, hoping, praying to gordic himself that he won’t be replaying it for the rest of his life and he’ll have a chance to see you once more

You find yourself doing the same, eyes tracing over trying to remember every detail, the slight wrinkles caused by laughter, every freckle that scattered his face, the shine of his hair…

“I love you” are the first words that escape your lips, hands trying to pull him just that little bit closer

He melts, but it’s in a soul crushing way. Your voice is beautiful, the one he heard late at night when he purposefully stayed up too late, his over tired mind finding it easier to imagine you beside him, assuring him his family and friends would make it. That you would make it. Return to him. Start a life together. Grow old together

Fred’s eyes are watery when you meet them “I love you so much” he says earnestly before cupping your face and leaning in to rub his nose against yours “How long do we have?” he whispers

“10 minutes” you give him a sad smile

“How would you like to spend them?” he asks, trying to smile as crying together would a waste

“Hold me”

He manoeuvres backwards, sitting down on a small ledge and gently pulling you onto his lap to hold you. His arms hold you securely, heads tucked into the others necks, your arms wrapped under his arms, clutching his shoulders. The ground is crisp, his arse soon growing numb as do your knees yet neither of you care, all that matters was these few minutes. They would pass slowly and quickly, there would never be enough time, even forever would never be enough

“You think he’ll be proud of me?”

You don’t have to say his name and Fred knows, pulling back to look at you, one hand moving to fiddle with your jacket

“Yes” he nods firmly “And if he was still here he would be proud to call you his daughter”

“A few more weeks and I would have been” you look down “I still have the papers hidden under the floorboard” you confess

Fred presses a kiss to your hair line “You could always change your last name to his” he offers and you look back up, nodding with a mournful smile

“Or become a dog” you let out the smallest of laughs

He joins you “You’d make an adorable dog” he nods

“Imagine the mischief” you laugh again, its freer and Fred’ heart swells

“We’d be unstoppable” he chuckles

The giggles soon die down, the cold alley quieting again as you pull a small bit of paper from your pocket. Fred watches you fiddle with it for a second, before you open it up and smile. He can’t see the contents until you turn the paper around, his hand coming up to take it

“You drew this?” he asks as his eyes trace over, instantly recognising himself

You nod, eyes growing glassy again as you talk

“You know Joe used to give me and Tim these stupid sketching lessons back at Hogwarts” you let out a breathy laugh “We’d always fluck them, drawing silly things instead” a tear falls “We found all his scetchbooks after he…” you can’t say it “Me and Tim decided to continue filling the two he had bought for us but never had the chance to…” you look back up at Fred I’ve drawn lots of you, and Sirius…and him from memory” you sniffle “That ones my faviourite” you point to it

Fred stares down at it before looking up again “Why give it to me?” he asks, heart heavy that this was you saying goodbye

“Because then you can give it back to me”

He folds up the drawing, carefully placing it in his inner pocket before bringing your lips to his. The kiss is slow, made up of multiple little kisses with whispered ‘I love yous’ slipping out in between them.

The kisses last a while, until your both hugging each other close, noses buried in each others neck

“I need to go” you murmur, placing a chaste kiss to his skin

His heart drops but he nods, letting you off of his lap and accepting your hands as you hold them out. Even after he’s stood up his hands never leave yours, neither of you can let go.

Not just yet

“I’ll see you again” he says, holding your hands tighter, nodding

I’ll see her again

You smile as much as you can, nodding as well “Until the next time”

There will be a next time

“Until next time” he repeats your words, reluctantly letting your hands slip away

You turn away, beginning to walk when you look back, staring for a moment before running backup for one final embrace

“Next time” you whisper before pressing your lips to his

“Next time” he kisses you once more but a little harder, thumbs caressing your face

You kiss him one last time, softly, before parting and walking off quickly, knowing if you look back again or stay you would never leave.

Fred watches you walk away, taking his heart with him while yours remains here with him. As his hand moves to wipe the tears that fell the moment you turn the corner he feels something sticking out of his jacket pocket

It’s a piece of paper similar to the one you gave him earlier. Opening it the years fall harder, it was a drawing of you while you’re laughing, it’s so beautiful, and in the corner is your writing

Joey drew this the week before he died. I want you to have it. It's been six months since I last saw you. I don’t know how long it will be until we see each other again, if we see each other again, so I want you to remember me like this. Happy.

I love you Freddie

Always

“She’ll come back” he holds it to his chest “She going to come back”

The next months were hard. In fact hard was an understatement when yourself and Timothy were paired with Greyback and his snatchers.

During that time you met Ted Tonks once more, a man you respected, yet you couldn’t let him go free and that was a decision that would haunt you and Timothy forever. Greyback was the one that did it, something that was so cruel, so horrific it was beyond words. He waited until the full moon, set Ted free and hunted him like it was a sport. Bellatrix arrived the following morning but only to cackle over his body while you and timothy watched

You saw many things that made you lose faith at times. Timothy was always there though, and although Joey was gone you had his drawings, even the ones which held old conversations from potions. You would talk to them sometimes, perhaps it was on set insanity but it helped.

It kept you going

Now you were back at Hogwarts, shaky hands as you waited for Snape to give you both instructions that weren’t a vague be within the castle walls as soon as you can

“Where have you been?” You ask a little on edge Tim as he enters your old common room “Oh no what?” you notice his face

“It’s happening, Harry’s here and the order has arrived too” he replies, looking beyond nervous "I think they've taken over the great hall but I didn't stick around to check"

You nod slowly taking a few breaths, heart racing that Fred was so close “Guess that’s why he wanted us here” you take a seat on your old spot on the couches and Timothy joins you, leaving a space in the middle for where Joey once sat

You both look at the empty space and then each other

“He should be here” he whispers

“Yeah” you nod “Though if he was he’d tell you that shirt looks terrible” you can’t stop the giggle

He scoffs “Well fuck you too” he starts chuckling too, looking down “Salazar it is terrible isn't it…why'dyou let me wear this?” he shakes his head

“You didn’t wash any others” you shrug

“Can you transfigure it?” he pleas “I can’t die in this”

You let out a shocked laugh “I can’t believe you just said that!”

“What it’s true! Doesn’t matter if both sides are gonna try and kill us, when they see this monstrosity they’ll be like let’s kill the wanker in the shit coloured shirt”

You giggle at him but then your face falls a little “You aren’t going to die…we’ll make it out” you say, looking serious before you crack a smile “Cause Joe will never let us live it down if we die”

“Yeah" he laughs "He’d rip the pish out of us the moment we got there, wherever there is”

“And say that shirt is a crime against fashion” you giggle, taking your wand and muttering some spells to change the shirts colour

“Better?”

“Much thanks” his fingers fiddle with the soft green material “Matches my eyes…well one of them”

“I’m not making the other half blue Tim. Then you would look like a right wanker”

You both chuckle for a little while. Enjoying the small bit of normal you always found in each other. That was until you spot a bright light out of the common room window. Standing, you both make your way over, watching the light stretch down through the water to the bed below

“It’s weirdly beautiful” Timothy notes watching the shimmer

You hum in agreement “I know it’s always been real. The war I mean. But now it feels…”

“Really real” Timothy takes your hand “Like it’s the beginning of the end”

"Yeah" you squeeze his hand before looking up at him “Just hope it’s the end we hope for”

“It will be” he stares out of the window for a second and takes a deep breath, then he turns to you “Love you” he gives you the best smile he can muster

“Me too” you nod

“You love yourself?” he teases earning a playful hit

“Arsehole”

Fred made his way up the stairs, following Remus, Tonks, and the elder of his family, George walked beside him but it was quiet. Air feeling so thick it was almost suffocating. Everyone he loved was here except you, he had no idea where you were. Where are you in the castle? Outside the barrier? Worse?

“You alright?” his twin whispers as they get to the top

He wants to say no, I’m not okay, I have no idea if the love of my life is alright, but he can't, instead he lies

“Yeah…you?” he asks, walking outside towards the balcony of the tower

“Yeah” George gives a firm nod, hands finding the wall “Nice view”

“Seen better” that makes George chuckle

They watch the spells hit the barrier. It was beautiful in its own way, like the calm before a storm, yet the storm is always inevitable and rips away everything

But you can only hope its not everything

Georges drift to the side “Looks like someones trying to cheer us up” he chuckles drawing Fred’s attention

“Wha…” he starts to ask when he sees it, a patronus, your patronus

He smiles

“Kinda looks like Sirius’ in his dog form” George notes “Think it’s Remus’ they were thing once weren't they?”

“Could be” Fred shrugs “I’ll go see, be back in a jiff” Fred pats his twins shoulder as he passes, walking towards the dancing light, following the dog as it patters back into the tower and down one flight of stairs, eventually disappearing behind a tapestry

His heart does a little skip wanting nothing more than to run in but he holds himself back, glancing around to check no one can see him before he enters slowly

“Love?” he whispers looking around until his eyes fall on you, leaning on the small window as you stared out “Love” he repeats a little louder

That gains your attention and you waste no time making your way over to him “Hi” you greet, trying to stop your hands from shaking

Fred takes them in his “Hi” he says, thumbs smoothing over your knuckles

“I love you so much” you can’t stop the tears as they were already falling, your hands slipping out of his and cupping his cheeks shocking him a little but then his own chase yours, grasping your wrists

“I love you too” he squeezes them, worry swarming in his stomach at how broken you look “What’s going on? Do they know you're a spy? They get Timothy?” he asks mildly frantic

“No nothing like that they have no idea…although they’ll know soon enough” you assure him before taking a breath

“Then what is it?” he asks softly

“You know when we said no promises? Because life's so unpredictable there's little chance we’ll be able to keep them” he nods “I need you to not to necessarily promise, but tell me you won’t get yourself killed. That we’ll make it out and we’ll get married and have a life together. A beautiful messy, chaotic life together”

He can feel the tears hitting his hands as he answers “I promise” his own eyes watering

“We’re so close to the end” you say with a shaky voice “We’ve come too far to lose it all now...I can't...” you take a sharp breath trying to compose yourself

“And we won’t" he wipes your tears and cups your face "When this is over, I'm going to ask you to marry me, and you’ll...hopefully..." you giggle "...say yes, and then we’ll move into a weird and wacky cottage, raise children if we want them and then grow old and grey together”

“Good” you smile at him, nodding as your hands fall from his cheek and wrap around his torso while his slither around you, holding you tight

You held each other for less than a minute but it felt like a small eternity. The first and last promise you would ever make to each other spoken in that little hideaway, and when you parted, watched Fred walk back up the stairs and you headed down to meet Timothy again, you both hoped it wouldn't be broken

Because if it was, neither of you would survive it

“Tim!” you shout, flicking a spell towards one of Greybacks snatchers

Running down the hall you found yourself near Gryffindor tower once more, yet you couldn’t worry about Fred. You had to find Timothy, Fred had the order looking out for him while you and Timothy only had one another. Everyone was out for you. In fact you had saved Remus from a death eater only to be spotted by Tonks soon after and almost killed whilst trying to slip away

“Tim” you say mostly for yourself, frantically looking around when you see a flash of red hair

Percy

He was fighting death eaters who had forced their way through what must have been one of the not so secret passages. He hadn’t seen you as you continued down the corridor towards him, hoping Timothy was just behind or in front of you.

You couldn’t head back now there were too many looking for you

You movements stopped though when you saw him “Fred” you see him join Percy's side

Of course he’s laughing, you think as you draw closer…then you see it

A death eater pointing his wand towards Percy and Fred through the windows of the corridors. You didn’t think just ran towards them. Percy was a little closer to the impact zone as the spell hit the wall, blowing up the bricks and sending most of it down and towards Fred and you guessed now, yourself

They hadn’t noticed your approach, reactions delayed until Percy was flung backwards and down a flight of stairs when you were a mere metre from Fred

You turned your body towards the falling wall yelling “Retcuto!” the spell vaporising the wall and the impact of which sending you and Fred flying deeper down the corridor, landing next to one another as smaller debris lands almost softly around you

“Fuck” Fred groans, wand still in his hand as he processes what just happened “Percy!” he shoots up, ignoring the sting as he looks to the side, not seeing his brother but you wincing on your side “Y/n…Y/n!” he says the first in shock and the second in alarm scooping you into his arms

Fred ignores the calls of his name from not only Percy but Ron and Harry who seem to have stumbled upon them, the small well of rubble blocking their view. Your eyes open, panting heavy and he thinks you’re going to say something sweet, maybe a cute a hello, but instead you hit him multiple times in the shoulder whilst sitting up as best you can with his help

“You had one job, Weasley!” you scold him, earning a shocked laugh

“We almost die and you’re shouting at me?”

“Yes, you complete arse” you were laughing now as well hitting him between words while he just chuckled "You promised"

“I know my snake in not so shiny armour” he quips even if his heart hurts that at the idea that without you he would be dead

His joke earns another nudge but then you wince again, face scrunching

“You okay?” his brows knit, smile dropping to concern as his hand moves to your side only to feel some wetness “Merlin” he gasps looking down, realising some of the glass from the window had hit your side

“That isn’t good” you press your hand to the area, feeling the blood seeping out too quickly before looking at him “Freddie I…” the adrenaline was wearing off now, the pain was searing and you were quickly feeling faint “...I feel a little…” you can’t finish but he understands

“Stay with me okay?” he cups your cheek, some bloods smearing across it

“Fred when we call you…answer” Percy starts a little intense and finishes with a whisper “Who?” he can’t quite see your face

“Fred we…” Ron and Harry jog up after throwing a few covering spells “...is that...” Ron trails off

Your head falls into Freds chest, unable to hold yourself up “Y/n love I need to you stay awake” Fred was panicking now, still ignoring his family as tears stream "Please we promised" he whispers kissing your temple when your eyes won't open

“Fred we need to go!” Ron shouts in an almost uncaring manner

“No!” Fred bites back with a tone none of them had ever heard, scaring them “Help me get her somewhere safe”

“Shes a death…”

“One more word and I will never speak to you again” he warns his younger brother while Percy has already moved to help

“If you can carry her I’ll defend you. We can hide behind one of the statues until it dies down enough to go to the great hall, okay?” he says softly, kneeling down

Fred nods, lifting you up with a little help from Percy

“Got her?” he checks and Fred nods

“We’ll help” Harry chips in, earning a thankful look from Fred, a nod from Percy and a baffled look from Ron

“Harry” Ron shakes his head shrugging

“Just come on” Harry doesn’t bother to argue just follows “We’ll talk about it later”

Fred was in the great hall now, crouching by your small bed on the floor and watching Madam Pomfrey work. His family were slowly making their way in, all in sheer panic for a moment until they see him and Percy who was sitting nearby

“Will she be okay?” he looks hopefully at the nurse when she stands

She nods “Yes, the wound isn’t magical nor was it deep so she will be fine. Normally I wouldn’t say she shouldn’t walk when she wakes up but given the circumstances Mr Weasley if she wants to fight she can” the older women tells him before taking her leave, answering quickly as she simply didn’t have the time

“Freddie!” his head shoots up at his twins voice, clambering to his feet to hug him tightly

“Thank merlin” Fred breaths out, pulling back and cupping his brothers face “Thought I'd lost you in chaos”

“Can’t get rid of me that easily” George chuckles, pulling him in for another hug before Fred parts and bear hugs Ginny, followed by Charlie, Bill, Fleur and his parents, whilst percy does something similar

The reunion however is cut short when Tonks approaches with Remus not long behind her

“Why is she here?” the small group looks towards them, the pink-haired women looking rather upset while the ex professor seemed sad

Remus had regarded you in a similar way to Sirius, even if he had grown disappointed in you since your ‘betrayal’, he still felt sick to his stomach seeing you hurt

“She’s a death eater…she has the mark” Tonks points towards the peaking of black ink under your scrunched sleeve

“Dora” Remus says lowly, looking around as the word must draw attention yet no one is looking their way, instead they're looking at some members of the order pointing their wand at Timothy Greengrass

“Lower your wands there is a brief truce” Kinsley commands to which their wands are reluctantly put away “You try anything and Imean anything, I will not be as understanding” he warns

Timothy nods wearing a thankful smile as he walks deeper into the hall. Eyes searching the room before the fall on Fred, making his way towards him quickly to ask if he had seen you when he sees your body laying there

“No” he whispers to himself, eyes widening and not caring about his knees as he hits the stone floor beside you “What happened?” he looks around but mostly towards Fred looking beyond worried

“She saved me from being hit by the wall but a shard of glass was embedded in her side”

Fred glances at his family, few seemed between sympathetic at Timothy and surprised you saved him, Remus evening wears a tiny twitch of a smile. Yet the ones he wanted to be wore no such thing. His mother and twin’s expressions remained hard, although they did waver a little upon hearing the first half

Timothy's face is still painted with worry “Will she be okay?” he asks, relaxing when Fred nods

“She saved your life?” Bill is the first to speak, most level headed as he wraps his arm around Fleur, holding her close to him

Fred nods “She did”

“Why?” George asks a little sharpy

“Because she loves me” Fred answers like it was obvious

Again his elder brothers and Remus seem soft towards it, like they can believe it, his father does as well but he remains neutral due to Molly who scoffs along with Tonks and George. Ginny seems somewhere in between and partially in her own world, her mind most likely preoccupied in worrying about Harry

“No she doesn’t. She broke your heart and ran off to join the death eaters. Since then I have watched you for the last two years mope around over her. She’s a traitor Freddie...please” George pleads like he thinks he doing the right thing but it only makes Fred upset

Fred shakes his head “She isn’t” he says shortly “Neither is Timothy” he adds, earning a grateful smile from the boy as he holds your hand, thumbing circles in it to comfort you but mostly himself

“You’re mad” Tonks states “They’re traitors plain and simple, you’re just blinded by your misplaced affections”

“No” Fred glares at her “They’ve been…” he stops himself, glancing at Timothy who nods, letting him know it's alright to tell everyone now “They’ve been working undercover”

She scoffs along with Molly who seems to only be quiet due to Arthur's hand in hers, while George’ head tilts and the rest of the weasley, plus Remus, listen carefully

“Undercover?” Tonks crosses her arms looking sceptical, while his mothers is closer to disappointment “Didn’t feel that way when their other little friend came after me and your younger brother”

Timothy grimaces at them mention of his late friend, more so at the question thrown towards him

“Where is he anyway?” She looks right at him “Almost killed us along with my crazy aunt”

Timothy sighs, heart aching “He…he didn’t make it” he looks away from them and to you

Remus watches the boy carefully, as does Fred’s elder brothers, Fleur and Arthur, all noting the grief and how he holds your hand just that little bit tighter. Tonks however flushes slightly, guilt beginning to swarm her stomach as she thinks back to the blasting spell she sent his way before she and Ron used the port key

“Who knew you were undercover?” Remus asks calmly, recognising something he felt all too well in the boy before him

“Sirius knew we were to gain info in our final year, but when he died Dumbledore and Mad-eye sent me, y/n and…Joe uncover. Our mission was to imbed ourselves along with Snape, feed the order information and when the time came, turn against them”

“You caused the death of my father” Tonks interjects “If you were really on our side why would you…how could you...” she can’t finish, trailing off but the boy understands what she’s asking

“I’m sorry about your father. Truly. It’s something I can never forgive myself for, nor do I even deserve it for playing a role in it, and I’m so, so sorry” he says so genuinely they all believe it, at least on some level “Not that it helps but Greyback…” Remus grimaces at the name “…the one that murdered him, won’t be hurting anyone else ever again”

“He’s dead?” Remus asks, eyes wide and lips parted

“Yes. I checked myself when he fell during mine and y/n’s tussle with him…but then I lost her in the chaos that ensued afterward. The other snatchers in his pack sought revenge ya see” Timothy explains and Remus looks like a weight has been lifted off of him “There’s no proof besides Fred and of course Snape's knowledge with Mad-eye and Dumblerdore dead. But if me and y/n were being honest we have no idea what Snapes mission really is...was? He was always so...cryptic. We had no idea he would kill Dumbledore, nor that we would be forced to fight against you all in the battle of the potters, or work with the snatchers and that monster”

They all nod slowly, taking the information in while George turns to Fred whose now moved to sit beside you once more, taking your other hand and stroking your cheek gently

“You knew the whole time?” he asks and Fred turns to his brother, his whole family and his friends awaiting his answer

“Just after Sirius’ death and before she 'turned', she sat me down. Explained the mission and everything she had been doing at Hogwarts while we were all off playing hero with the DA. After which she offered me a choice. She could obliviate me or I could remember but never tell anyone”

“Do you have any idea how dangerous that was!” his mother finally speaks up “You could have gotten yourself killed!” Arthur wraps his arm around her, rubbing her back to try and soothe her nerves

“I know but I didn’t mum” he answers simply, calmly, a stark contrast to his usual demeanour and it makes his mother listen “I love her, really love her. She’s the bravest person I’ve ever met” he turns to Timothy “As are you, and of course Joey” he turns back to the other while Timothy smiles “They were the ones leaking information, information that saved more than we lost. They risked everything to help us even after Mad-eye died and they were all on their own, merlin they all were forced to get the dark mark…” his eyes trail down to it, fingers glazing it

“She might have been lying” Tonks says but her voice is softer, less angry than she was before

“Maybe but I believe it” Percy states “I believe you” he says meeting Fred’s eyes

“So do I” Remus adds, earning a quizzical look from Nymphadora before she says a quiet ‘Me too’

“Me Three” Bill winks

“Four” Fleur adds cuddling into her husband

“Five” Charlie says with a nod

“Six” is from Arthur

“Six and a half” Molly grumbles lowly, earning a small chuckle from the small group

“Seven” Ginny smiles

“Eight” George finishes “I believe you” he kneels down next to Fred taking his hand “I always believe you” his head taps his twins

“Thank you” he says mostly to George but then turns to the others "You won't regret it, believing" he smiles and they smile back

Your whine however brings his, and Timothy's attention back, their grips on your hands tightening while the rest of the small crowd step back and sit among themselves, except George who stays by his brothers side and Remus who takes a seat on Timothy's other side

“Y/n love?” Fred calls softly as your eyes flutter open

“Yeah?” your head turns to him, not really aware of your surroundings just yet

“You had one job future Weasley” he scolds lightly and you giggle

“Well if you had done yours I wouldn’t be in this predicament” you clap back before your eyes widen

“What?” Fred asks but your already sitting up way too quickly, side stinging but you couldn’t care less

“Tim! I need to find him” you say trying to stand up when the boy your looking for places his hand on your shoulder stopping you

“I’m here” he assures you “I’m alright, I'm okay”

You sigh in relief, leaning into him a little bit “I couldn’t lose you too” you breath out

“You didn’t…you haven’t lost either of us sunshine” he gives you a smile and then looks toward Fred

Your boyfriend smiles back at the boy before his focus returns to you “We’re keeping our promise don’t you worry love” his nose nudges into your hair

Timothy lets go of your hand then, letting Freds arms engulf you as your head buries itself into his chest “I love you” your murmur so only Fred can hear

“Love you too” he whispers as he pulls back, digging into his pocket and bringing it out just enough for you to see “I’ve carried it everyday. And when we win I’m going to give it back ask you something very important” he tells you

Your heart flutters “Yes” you whisper to which George, who could totally hear everything, lets out a small smile

“You’re supposed to let me ask first” Fred scrunches his nose at you

“Freddie it’s been a yes since we were 17” you inform him, placing a sweet kiss to his lips

“What’s going on here?” Ron asks approaching with Hermione, both staring at your and Fred as you part

“Y/n’s injured” Remus answers for you

Your head whips around to him, surprised “Hi” you whisper, wincing at the idea of how disappointment he must be in you

“Hey” He gives you a warm smile “He’d be really proud you know…I’m proud” he tells you, eyes a little glassy

You nod, heart warming as you turn back to Fred and Timothy, both helping you stand up as they know there would be no stopping you from continuing the fight

“I know she’s injured” Ron replies a little mumbly “I mean why is everyone okay with her...and him here” he motions to you and Timothy, Hermion nodding next to him

“Y/n and Timothy have been working as spies little brother” Bill states, the whole clan turning to look at two thirds of the famous trio

Hermione and Ron look at him baffled, and then eye you and Timothy for a second. They have questions, of course they do, a boat load in fact but their was no time for that right now, their were more pressing concerns

“Has anyone seen Harry?” Remus’ face instantly pales “He went up to Dumbledore’s office but he never came back” Hermione asks, looking concerned as her hand finds Rons

“You don’t think he turned himself over do you?” Someone asks, and while everyone looks at each other in a quiet worry all Remus can think is that’s exactly what James would do

Thank you for reading ♡ I will fix some of the links up top tomorrow morning xx

#fred weasley and reader #fred weasley and y/n #fred weasley and you #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley angst #fred weasley fluff #slytherin reader #fred weasley fic #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x slytherin!reader #fred and reader #fred x reader #robynsrequests #robbiesocs #golden era

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animasola86 · 7 months

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Sebastian Sallow Headcanons (revisited)

I made a similar post a while back, but I think it's time to revisit it.

Sebastian Sallow is a Scorpio (born between Oct 23 and Nov 22).

Typical Scorpio traits include being resourceful, ambitious, brave, (com)passionate, possessive, jealous, loyal, supportive, emotional, intense. I’d say he is all that. Also fits the Slytherin characteristics.

I don't have a particular date in mind for him anymore, but I'd say around Halloween or after would suit him and Anne. (I haven't looked at the actual Astrology aspect of it, leaving that to the experts here!)

He is a nerd and an athlete.

He is the kind of nerd who will hit you with knowledge when you least expect it and never as the know-it-all type, but rather the let-me-share-my-knowledge type. I'm sure he'll be actually fun at parties.

And I see no problem in him being hunched over books for hours on end and being physically fit at the same time. (Yes, he seemed a little unfit at the start of fifth year, being all breathless on the way to Hogsmeade and during a mission up some stairs, but I'll ignore that. He'll grow into it.)

So he's not only fit enough to brave all those stairs in Hogwarts, I also see him on the Quidditch team. I initially had him as a Beater in my head, and I still stand by it, but I do see him as a Seeker as well now, just because how he can show off by catching the Snitch.

(I don't see him as a Chaser, too average a position for him imo, or a Keeper, I think he'd be too hyper to stay in one place all the time, even though his protective trait might play into it, but he can focus on that more when he hits some Bludgers around.)

He is tall.

I also HC that Ominis is taller, but Sebastian is still tall. I put him at 1.80m/180cm (5′11″) initially, but I might even put him taller now. He'll definitely have another growth spurt during his last years at Hogwarts and grow into an even taller adult, so for now, let's settle on him being 1.85m/185cm/6'1" at the end of the game. (Angst can make you grow, yes.)

(And I need him to be tall because my MCs usually are quite short and I just love that size difference dynamic so much!)

He is an extrovert.

He might have his baggage to carry during his fifth year (and beyond), but he still has many extrovert tendencies, especially needing people around to recharge - even if it's just one person (our MC preferably). He is a twin, so being alone was never really an option before Anne got sick.

That's why he hates being alone, he'll certainly have his mind flooded with doubts and dark thoughts if he happens to be alone. That might make him clingy and/or overprotective towards his significant other/friends, but if it helps him sleep at night, he won't hesitate to hog those special people to his advantage.

He is a light sleeper.

And probably has nightmares more than your average boy considering all the stress he puts himself under, with his worries for Anne and the constant abuse from Solomon and his general past (loss of his parents, etc.).

Yet even though he might have trouble falling asleep and sleeping in general, I do think he can sleep anywhere, thinking about the shed in Feldcroft that the fandom considers to be his place to stay when he visits his sister. Also as a twin he was probably used to sharing small spaces and finding sleep wherever he can.

He can't sit still for long.

Call it ADHD, restless legs syndrome or general nerves, he probably can't sit still and has to fidget a lot as well. Might conflict with his ability to absorb himself in books for hours on end, but even when reading, I'd imagine him moving a lot (think back to him pacing in front of the fireplace in the Slytherin common room, or his constant walking cycle through the DADA tower, etc.).

His favorite color is green.

Obvious choice, I just needed something to end this with. So here we go. Green for Slytherin, for nature, and maybe, probably hope? Who knows.

[ 🔞 NSFW Sebastian Sallow Headcanons ]

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow headcanon #sebastian sallow headcanons

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cornfields-and-bad-dreams · 4 months

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Applin of my Eye

Rating: General

Ship: Leon/Reader

Warnings: None

Tags: Applin Confession, Oblivious Leon, Misunderstanding.

Summary: Since coming to terms with your feelings for Leon, you've tried to confess, but it hasn't gone so well. Now that Valentine's Day is just around the corner a second wave of motivation has hit you, and you think you have the perfect, FOOLPROOF, way of getting the point across. If only it were that simple.

Valentine's Day always made you feel a little bad, at least since you were thirteen or so. Before that, it was just a fun day where you shared cards with your classmates, had a little class party, and got gifts from your parents. Usually consisting of candy, a card, and some sorta stuffie. Now it was just a brutal reminder that you were alone.

Usually, you wouldn’t really care, and if you did you’d try not to let it sting too badly. But recently things had changed, for about a year and a half now you’d slowly been falling in love with one of your best friends, none other than Galar’s reigning champion Leon. Your feelings had come to a head back in October, up until then you’d done well to ignore and suppress them, but throughout the month it just kept getting harder and harder. Then, the party happened. It was a costume party held by Nessa on Halloween night, Leon was going to be there, but you didn’t know what he was going to be. When you finally saw his costume it left you unable to deny your feelings for him any longer. The costume itself did a lot for you, but the fact it was on Leon? The way it hugged his form, and sparked your imagination with fantasies and scenarios? Well, that was just the icing on the cake.

You agonized over your feelings for a bit, having finally admitted to yourself that you were absolutely head over heels for the man, unsure of how to proceed. At first, you were convinced that he wouldn’t return your affection, how could he? In your eyes, he was a god amongst men, and you were a lowly mortal. But, after a short bout of self-deprecation, you were finally able to come to the conclusion that you just needed to tell him how you felt, no matter the cost.

Easier said than done.

You’d tired, really you had. But something always got in the way, whether it be your nerves winning out in the end, someone interrupting you just as you were about to confess, or something happening to pull either of your attention away from the conversation. Eventually, the holiday season rolled around as well, leaving both you and Leon busy. By the time things calmed down you’d honestly lost all the courage you’d once had, and once again your mind raced with negative what-ifs. Your main concern being that if you did confess and he didn’t reciprocate, then your friendship would be ruined. All though, it had also occurred to you that if he didn’t feel the same then you weren’t sure if you would even want to be friends anymore.

Your feelings were all over the place, the thought of not having Leon in your life, whether romantically or platonically, physically pained you. But so did the idea of all the embarrassment and awkwardness that would come in the aftermath of professing your love for Leon just for him to hit you with “I think we should just be friends.” Despite it being unideal, you found a sort of sad comfort in the sort of Schrodinger's Delcatty situation you were in. If you didn’t tell him how you felt, Leon couldn’t reject you nor could he reciprocate, either way, you kept him in your life and things didn’t change. Even if that change could be for the better.

Except, as Valentine’s Day drew nearer, you grew more restless. TV ads, shop displays, and the general talk of the holiday you heard wherever you went were starting to get to you. The thought of happy couples spending the day together hugging and kissing and just being in love? It made you jealous, but more so, self-conscious. So, for the first time in a while, you’d started thinking about confessing again.

And goddamnit, you almost did it. You had gotten so close to just spitting it out, but that Arceus-forsaken lump in your throat reared its ugly fucking head again. And when you were alone in the comfort of your own home, you cried, and it was ugly.

That was yesterday, the 12th, this morning you woke up to a text from Leon asking if you’d want to spend Valentine's Day with him and some others who were without dates this year. Truth be told the idea of spending Valentine’s Day with him platonically hurt a lot more than the idea of spending it alone, but you could never turn down an offer to hang out with him.

‘Sure, what are we doing?’

He responded a moment later saying that you were all going to be hanging at Gordie’s for the day, watching TV/Movies, playing games, and whatever else might be suggested. It sounded nice, and you quite enjoyed hanging out at Gordie’s, he had a bunch of cool stuff. Sometimes the thought had crossed your mind that if you weren’t madly in love with Leon, you could just seduce Gordie to have permanent access to his things. But that was just a joke, mostly.

After confirming a few more details with Leon you readied yourself for the day and headed out. You tried not to think about your love problems too much, desperately attempting to distract yourself with battling and various other tasks. Yet the thought nagged at you in the back of your mind. By three o’clock your stomach started to growl rather prominently and you realized you hadn’t eaten anything in a while. Making your way to one of your favorite restaurants you took a seat at one of the patio tables and waited for the waiter to take your order. As you waited, you happened to tune into the conversation from the next table over. A pair of boys, who you’d assume were somewhere in their late teens, were discussing Valentine’s Day.

“So, you’re planning on asking out Derrick?”

“Yeah, I figure doing it tomorrow would be romantic, right?”

“Definitely, but how are you gonna do it? Any big plans?”

“I’m gonna give him an Applin, you know what they say about giving someone an Applin, right?”

“OH! That’s a great idea man. He’ll say yes for sure.”

You froze for a moment. An Applin, why hadn’t you thought of that? It would be easier to give Leon an Applin than it would to sputter out some nervous confession. You smiled, plan in mind, as soon as you were done eating you’d head straight over to route 5 to catch the perfect little declaration of love. Love, Loveballs? LOVEBALLS! You nearly jumped out of your seat as the thought raced to mind, you had a whole mess of Loveballs back home. Honestly, you had a whole box full of random Pokeballs shoved in your closet, ones you had acquired through various means over time that you saw no real need for, until now. Course, to use a Loveball you’d need to battle with your own Applin, but that was no problem for you and your precious little À la mode. A Loveball would be perfect for this, maybe a bit extra, but it would certainly get the point across. Something that could come in handy with Leon, you loved the man to bits, but he could be kinda dense at times.

Finishing up at the restaurant you hurried home to retrieve your Loveballs, stopped at the nearest Pokecenter to add À la mode to your team, and finally made your way to route 5. Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you stepped into the tall grass and began your hunt for an Applin.

It took a bit to find one, and even longer to find a female one. Yes, you knew that you could still catch a male one with the Loveball, hell you didn’t even technically need À la mode himself for the task, it just made the catch rate higher. And seeing as Applin on route 5 were usually between Lvl. 16 and 18 it wouldn’t be too hard to catch with the regular catch rate of a Pokeball. But if it hadn’t already been proven to both yourself and countless others, then this whole situation would be proof enough that your natural instinct in life is to make things way more complicated than they have to be, even if it was just for show or better yet, pride.

After about 2 hours you finally had a brand new Applin in a Loveball, you grinned ear to ear as you made your way home, excitement building in your chest. Yet, by the time you passed through your front door, that excitement had turned to anxiety. Sitting at your dining table you stared at the Loveball in front of you, your heart beat a bit faster than usual and your stomach was tied in knots. Were you really gonna do this? Were you actually gonna confess your feelings to Leon on Valentine’s Day? This could end badly, just oh so badly, there was still time to back out. You could release the Applin and pretend the whole dramatic idea had never crossed your mind.

No.

You were gonna stand your ground, you wouldn’t let your nerves get the better of you again. Not this time. Nodding to yourself you placed the Loveball on the small table next to your front door, ready for you when you left the next day. The rest of the night consisted of you deciding on an outfit for tomorrow, cooking dinner, and relaxing the best you could until you went to bed.

Surprisingly you slept well, at least in the sense that you actually slept, normally your nerves would have kept you up all night. But they did manifest in your dreams, one after another depicting various ways your love confession could go sour. Finally rousing from your own mental torture you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and set to work getting ready. When the time finally rolled around to head off for Gordies you halted a moment at the door, staring down at the Loveball you’d nestled amongst the fake decorative fruit you kept in a bowl. Why you kept decorative fruit was a mystery even to yourself. Groaning faintly you grabbed the Loveball and stuffed it in your bag, finally heading out for the day.

Hanging out with everyone at Gordie's was a blast, though throughout the day you kept trying to figure out when would be a good time to give Leon the Applin, you wanted it to be just the two of you, but couldn’t devise a good enough excuse to get him alone. As the day was winding down, and talk of ending the “party” was brought up Leon commented that he needed to be heading out soon anyway, apparently, he was gonna be spending time with his family tomorrow and had planned on staying the night back home in Postwick. You had a wonderful idea.

“Leon?”

You approached him near the door, where he was getting his shoes and jacket on.

“Yeah?”

He smiled at you, straightening up from slipping on his sneakers.

“I was wondering if you would be willing to join me on the train ride home, it’s on the way to Postwick and I’d love to spend some time together, just you and I.” You flashed him a grin.

“Of course, anything for my biggest fan.”

Leon laughed as he slung his arm around your shoulders, you just groaned. He’d started calling you that a while back as a joke, it had since grown a bit old for your tastes, but it made him smile, and you liked it when he smiled.

Gathering your things you headed out with Leon to the train station. It was a relaxing ride, and for a moment you’d forgotten about the Loveball Applin rolling around in your bag. That is until you’d reached your stop. It was a little after 11:30, and you still had a bit of a walk to your place, as Leon strolled alongside you, your deadline of confessing on Valentine's Day was soon to pass. It was now or never. Fortuitously, the quickest way to your place was a shortcut through a rather beautiful park, the perfect place for a love confession. In the middle of the park was a gazebo, and the city had lit it up with pretty pink and red lights, as well as decorating it with fresh arrangements of roses. Stepping into the gazebo you turned to look at Leon.

“Beautiful isn’t it?”

“Gorgeous.” The lights reflected in his eyes as he looked up at the ones hanging from the beams.

“It looks like it could be the setting for a confession scene in some cheesy romance movie.” You gripped your bag tightly.

“Haha, yeah. I can just imagine it.” Leon smiled, Arceus, that smile could make your heart flutter every time.

Checking your phone it read 11:56, four minutes, it was REALLY now or never. Swallowing the infamous lump in your throat you opened your bag.

“I actually have something for you. I didn’t want to make a big deal back at Gordie’s but now that it’s just us, I want to give it to you.”

“Oh?”

Finding the Loveball you quickly grabbed it and presented it to Leon, holding your breath.

“A Loveball?” Leon blinked a few times before taking it from your hand.

“T-there’s a Pokemon inside. You should, um, let it out.”

11:58

“Oh! Of course.”

The Loveball opened and a small burst of light shot out, fading away to reveal the Applin. Time seemed to freeze as you waited for Leon’s response. He grinned, an excited laugh escaping his lips.

“Ah sweet, you caught me an Applin? I’ve wanted one for a while now.” Reaching down he scooped the Pokemon into his arms. “How’d you know?”

Dense, the man was fucking dense.

“Lucky guess I suppose.”

“Haha, well it paid off, I love her. Now I just got to decide what to evolve her into. You have an Applin too right? Any suggestion?”

“Uh, I’m partial to Appletun, but it’s up to you.”

“True, maybe I should talk to Raihan about it. He is a dragon trainer of course, or maybe Milo? He’d have input on the grass typing.” Leon started to ramble a bit.

Looking down at your phone it now read 12:02.

“Fucking hell.” You mumbled.

“Did you say something?”

Leon cocked his head, shaking your own you stuffed your phone in your pocket.

“Just talking to myself, it’s past midnight though, so we should probably get going. You still need to head for Postwick.”

“Oh right, I nearly forgot.”

Leon returned the Applin to its ball and motioned for you to lead the way. The rest of the walk home was filled with Leon telling you about the plans he had with Hop and the rest of his family later that day. Despite the failure of a confession, it still warmed your heart to hear him talk so lovingly about them.

Making it to your place you stopped out front.

“Thanks for walking me home Leon.”

“It’s no problem, I love spending time with you. Thanks for the Applin again, I’ll make sure to take great care of her.”

“I know you will Lee.”

Smiling, Leon placed his hand on your shoulder.

“You’re an amazing friend, I’m really lucky to have you in my life.”

Schrodingers fucking Delcatty.

“Back at ya.”

Waving goodbye Leon headed off for the train station, in the completely wrong direction. After you quickly reminded him where it was he set off on his second attempt, fading away in the dark of the night.

“Back at ya?” You groaned, heading inside. “Fucking stupid.”

Hop woke up to the smell of coffee wafting upstairs from the kitchen, seeing as his parents were more avid tea drinkers it could only mean one thing.

“Leon!” Hop jumped out of bed, not bothering to change out of his sleepwear.

Hurrying downstairs Hop practically drifted into the kitchen, Leon stood at the counter fixing himself a cup of coffee.

“When did you get home? I waited a long time for you, but you never showed.” Hop mildly scolded as he made his way over to Leon.

Leon chuckled apologetically, giving Hop a wave.

“Morning, I got back kinda late, well past midnight. I was hanging out with friends yesterday, then I ended up accompanying [Y/N] home last night.”

Hop sighed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

“Well, you’re here now, I guess that’s what really matters.”

“Of course, glad you understand.” Leon patted Hop on the shoulder

“I’d understand a lot more if you made me pancakes.” He grinned mischievously.

“Why didn’t I see that coming?” Leon sighed turning around to gather the needed ingredients and such.

Hop laughed, heading for the kitchen table, huffing as he saw Leon’s backpack lying on it.

“How many times do you need to be told to hang your bag up in the entryway?”

Hop reached for the bag, pulling it from the table, as he did so the pink Loveball rolled out from the open top.

“What the?”

Hop was certain he’d seen all of Leon’s Pokemon, and he was even more certain that none of them were in Loveballs.

“What’s the matter?”

Leon turned to him, a bowl cradled in his arm as he whisked a batch of batter.

“Since when do you use Loveballs?” Hop asked, holding up the pink ball.

“Oh, [Y/N] gave it to me last night, it’s an Applin. I guess they noticed I’d wanted one and got it for me.”

Hop blinked.

“What?” Leon stopped whisking.

“[Y/N] gave you an Applin in a Loveball, on Valentine’s Day?”

“Yeah, why?”

Hop knew his brother could be a little oblivious at times, but this was a level of stupidity that he’d never seen Leon reach before, and he prayed to Arceus he’d never reach again.

“Lee, I’m gonna need you to think about that statement very carefully, and focus on what all those aspects could mean together.”

Leon scrunched his face up in confusion, setting the bowl of batter down he crossed his arms in thought. Hop could almost see the wheels turning in Leon’s head as he thought hard. And as if he were the human lead in that silly little kids show from both their childhoods, with that funny little shiny Rockruff, and her perfectly placed blue pawprint clues, Leon connected the pieces of the mystery together masterfully. A look of realization, and a bit of horror, took over his face as he finally came to the conclusion.

“Was [Y/N] trying to confess their feelings to me!?” He hollered.

“Keep your voice down, Mom and Dad are still asleep.” Hop hushed. “And I don’t know for sure, but I’d assume they were.”

“That would make so much sense, especially with the Gazebo.” Leon gripped the edge of the counter tightly, staring down into the bowl of batter without actually looking at it.

“Gazebo?” Hop questioned lightly.

“Doesn’t matter.” Leon shook his head lightly, pushing himself back from the counter. “I gotta go talk to [Y/N]”

Leon rushed for the entryway, grabbing his jacket and starting to put his shoes on.

“Woah there, slow down Lee. What are you doing?”

Hop followed behind, placing himself between Leon and the front door.

“I have to clear things up with [Y/N].”

Hop sighed, shaking his head.

“Lee, we have plans today, besides, you’re still in your pajamas.”

Leon looked down, noting that he was, in fact, still wearing his ratty old tank top and loose sleep pants.

“You have a point there, but I feel terrible, they did something so romantic and I went and ruined it by letting it all soar right over my head.”

Leon rubbed at his face, hiding behind his hands.

“Lee, it’s gonna be fine.” Hop placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. “You’ll clear things up with them later, after you’ve gotten dressed and we spend the day together, besides, it’ll give you time to think about what exactly you’ll say right?”

Leon lowered his hands, giving Hop a tired smile.

“Yeah, you’re right. Maybe I can ask Mom and Dad for some advice.”

“That’s the spirit. Now, can you finish making my pancakes?”

Leon huffed, breaking out into a grin, ruffling Hop’s hair he slung his arm around his shoulder and dragged him back into the kitchen.

“Is that all you care about?”

It had been about two days since ‘The Incident’, you hadn’t tried talking to Leon yet and he hadn’t messaged you either, which had you feeling conflicted. On the one hand, you weren’t particularly ready to talk to him, on the other, the thought kept running through you’re mind that he’d finally realized what the loveball Applin meant and was now actively ignoring/avoiding you. It was definitely paranoia, you understood that, but understanding it didn’t make it go away. Regardless, you laid back on the couch, looking through the videos YouTube suggested for you, you desperately scanned over the thumbnails looking for something to distract yourself with, unfortunately, nothing caught your eye. Suddenly your phone buzzed.

‘Are you home?’

It was from Leon, your blood ran cold.

‘Yeah, why?’

You felt you knew why but needed some confirmation.

‘Can I come over? I need to talk to you, it’s important.’

You felt your stomach tie into knots. You, REALLY, didn’t want to see Leon right now. You weren’t mad of course, but after the other night's failed confession? You were feeling less than stellar. You hadn’t even left your apartment since then.

‘Are you sure? It’s getting kinda late, isn’t it?’

It wasn't that terribly late, but it was worth a shot.

‘That doesn’t matter, we need to talk, and it can’t be done over text. Please?’

You wanted to say no, Arceus you wanted to say no, yet despite everything that had happened Leon was still your number one weakness.

‘Okay, you can come over.’

Leon thanked you, saying he’d be over in a few. Taking a deep breath, you calmed your growing nerves and waited.

Leon must have been nearby already, seeing as it only took about ten minutes for him to knock on your door.

"Hey, Leon."

Opening the door you greeted him with the happiest and calmest tone you could muster.

"Hey, thanks for letting me come over." He smiled nervously as he stepped inside.

“Well, you did say it was important.”

You gave a forced chuckle, your heart pounding in your chest as you shut the door. Leon nodded without a word, though his eyes spoke plenty enough for him. You could tell he was just as anxious as you, yet it didn’t make you feel any better. You stood in silence a moment, the two of you just staring, you’d expected him to say something.

“Sooo, what did you want to talk about?” You finally decided to break the silence.

Leon swallowed heavily, blinking a few times before seemingly mustering up the nerve to speak.

“It, uh, has to do with the Applin you gave me.” Slinging his bag off from his shoulders Leon rummaged in it a moment before pulling out a loveball. “I’m a little embarrassed to admit it, but it took Hop pointing out the significance of everything for me to realize what you were trying to say. Or, at least, what I think you were trying to say.”

Leon stared down at the ball in his hand, running his thumb back and forth across it.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get it at first, I certainly feel like an idiot, it’s so obvious in hindsight.” He gave a soft nervous laugh.

Clearing his throat he looked up at you.

“Regardless, I um, I keep finding it hard to, uh, find my words. So, here.” He held out the loveball.

Your heart skipped a beat and your breath caught in your throat, was he returning the Applin? Tears welled in your eyes, threatening to spill over as you slowly reached out to take the loveball from him. You felt weak and shaky, half expecting your legs to give out on you at any moment. Holding the loveball in your hand just made it worse, quickly, you moved past Leon to set it on the counter separating your kitchen from your living room.

“T-thanks.”

Wiping the tears from your eyes you wondered why thanking him was your immediate response, though to be honest, you weren’t sure how one would normally respond to a situation like this.

“Oh, uh.” Leon seemed confused, looking back and forth between you and the loveball. “Aren’t you gonna let it out?”

Oh, that felt like adding an insult to injury.

“No.” The word came out a bit angrier than you’d intended, you adjusted your tone going forward. “I get it, Leon, you don’t feel the same way about me as I do you so you’re returning the Applin. I don’t need to see it.”

You’d taken to squeezing your hands, your gaze drifting away from Leon. If you were looking at him though, you would have seen his eyes widen and his complexion pale a bit. Suddenly he was waving his hands.

“NO! No no no, you misunderstand, that’s my fault, I’m sorry. I should have been clearer.”

You looked back in time to see Leon grab the ball off the counter and place it in your hand, his one hand holding your wrist his other keeping the Loveball in your palm.

“Just open it, I promise. Trust me.”

You blinked a few times in shock, but seeing Leon's soft hopeful smile filled you with comfort. You nodded your head and went to send out whatever was in the ball.

“Wait, wait.” Leon stopped you suddenly.

Looking around, Leon proceeded to move your dining table and chairs over to the side, as well as push some other furniture and stuff around. Once he seemed pleased with the space he’d made he came back over to your side.

“Okay, you can continue now.”

Giving a small laugh you smiled and called out the Pokemon.

A flash of light shot out from the loveball, and even before the Pokemon had fully appeared you could tell it was bigger than an Applin. Once it was fully present it took you a second to register what you were looking at, but once you had, you gasped.

“A Ponyta?”

You grinned and squealed in joy as you approached the adorable little pastel Pokemon. It whinnied and danced around a moment before coming over to where you’d settled on your knees near it. You ran your hands through its mane and over its coat of fur.

“I know how much you’ve wanted one, and how unlucky you’ve been with finding one for yourself. So, I spent the majority of today and last evening looking for this little guy. I actually got lost in Glimwood Tangle for a bit, Madame Opal had to help me find my way back to the main path. I’m not sure how she knew I was lost but thank Arceus she did.”

You laughed along with Leon, combing your fingers through the Ponyta’s mane some more. Giving it a final scratch behind its ear you returned it to the loveball and stood up. Holding the ball with both hands you smiled looking down at the heart on the front of it.

“You didn’t have to do all that.” You said softly.

Leon stepped closer, gently taking hold of your wrists.

“I wanted to.”

Looking up at him you smiled, moving your right hand up to cup his cheek.

“Oh, Lee.”

Moving your hand to the back of his head you pulled him towards you as you leaned in closer, connecting your lips. Leon wrapped an arm around your waist, the other coming up to cradle the back of your head as well. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, enjoying your first kiss, after breaking away Leon spoke.

“I’m sorry I caused you so much stress.”

“Well, if I’d been able to gather enough courage to confess properly in the first place there wouldn’t have been any confusion.”

Leon laughed a bit.

“Why don’t we say we’re both at fault and call it even?”

“Deal.”

#pokemon leon x reader #leon pokemon x reader #leon pokemon #leon swsh #pokemon reader insert #my writing

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 1 year

Note

NOW LET'S TURN THE TABLES AROUND! How about MC comforting M6 from panic attack/flashback??

The Arcana HCs: How the M6 get panic attacks and how MC comforts them

~ when I posted the other one I had several asks for the reverse. sorry the writer's block made this take so long, enjoy your pain my dudes - brainrot ~

Part 1:

CW for panic attacks, flashbacks, references to familial abuse and addiction recovery

Julian

His panic attacks mostly come from his time in the dungeons below the palace

One of the really beautiful things about him is his commitment to doing good and helping others whenever he can

So once you've started your new life together and settled in, you can bet he'll still be doctoring people wherever you end up

The problem is that he hates seeing people in pain

Which is generally what people are experiencing when they go to a doctor

Most of the time it's fine. He's been doing this for years, he knows how to stay detached from what he has to do while remaining calm and empathetic with his patient

But sometimes, someone comes in with symptoms similar to the Plague

Or worse, they come in with injuries similar to what he saw Valdemar inflict in their research

You'll know as soon as they show up that they will receive the best care he can give them. As long as they are in his clinic, he'll be in peak form looking after them

And once they've been treated and recovered and he's come home, he'll disappear while your back is turned and you'll find him curled up in a ball under the stairs, gloves off and clenched in his fist, trembling like a leaf in the wind

He doesn't cry very much, but you can see his face get even paler and his breath will be shallow

The first thing you want to do is help him get his breathing under control, because if he starts to feel a lack of oxygen for too long it'll trigger a flashback to the time he was hanged, and that makes it much, much worse

It's one thing to be desensitized to other people dying, it's quite another to remember the explicit details of choking to death for a crime you didn't commit, knowing that your friends, loved one, and little sister are all watching with no guarantee of coming back

You'll put his hand on your chest so he can feel you breathe and talk him through as many breathing exercises as you need to

He chatters when he's nervous because he tends to have a racket of thoughts in his head, so if you can get him talking it'll help

When he talks about what's bothering him it means he's not the only person thinking about it anymore, which helps him stop feeling overwhelmed

Once it's over he'll be unusually quiet. He just needs someone to take the weight of the world off of his shoulders, and the best way to do that is to wipe his face with a cool towel, draw him a bath, feed him dinner, and hold him close when it's time to sleep

You don't have to wait until later for him to thank you, he'll be whispering it constantly every time you touch him or make eye contact

He is going to be so sweet to you your teeth will rot

Asra

They're not the clingy type - at all - but their biggest fear is losing the people they love

It was bad enough in the past to make him put other people's well being on the line when he lost you

On one hand, their ordeal with you and freeing their parents forced them to confront their flaws and they have much healthier coping skills in place now

On the other hand, he has more to lose than he ever has before

Which is when they started having panic attacks

All it took was you being out on a quick early errand when they woke up one morning and couldn't find or sense you anywhere

First there was the thought that you were gone. Then his mind started sprinting ahead of him, how gone were you? Were you coming back?

They could ask their parents - unless they were gone too? Nadia would know where they went - what if she left as well? Muriel wouldn't leave, there's always a place for Asra in the hut - unless he got sick of Vesuvia and disappeared too

He can feel his heart rate picking up, blood rushing in his ears, at some point he grabbed a bag to pack and go find you, but this is the pouch where Faust likes to nap and - where's Faust?

They can't see Faust, and they can't think right now, they can't clear their mind to call anyone, their magic isn't responding when they try to summon it, where is Faust? And where are you?

You can tell something's wrong as soon as you get back. Contrary to Asra's perception, his magic is shaking as much as he is, and so is every jar on your shelves

The first thing you do when you see them is gently take their hands from their bag and put them around you

He freezes when he's overwhelmed like this and it's hard for him to sense things, so the best way to pull him out of it is to help him feel that you are still there with him

You'll pull them somewhere comfortable and soothing and wrap your arms around them, put their head where they can hear your heartbeat, run your fingers through their hair and along their back

You'll also be sure to put Faust where she can curl around his arm and squeeze as tightly as she needs to

Once it hits them that you're there, they'll be sobbing with relief

He'll be clutching the back of your shirt, tracing your face with his fingertips, tangling your legs with his so there's no way you can leave without him knowing

Once it's over they'll just want to go back to sleep. They'll wait until you're free to join them though, they are not doing that alone

When he wakes up he'll have a list of people to visit and an invitation for you to join him. He's learned the importance of connection and he wants you at the center of all of his

Nadia

She gets panic attacks about being stuck in her dreams again

It doesn't happen often, much of her recent growth has been overcoming her self-doubt and learning to trust and appreciate her intuition again

But maybe she spent several late nights in a row fretting over a fix Vesuvia problem

Maybe there were a few nobles refusing to give her access to certain supplies or stores

Maybe it's making her begin to question herself again

And maybe she finally gets so exhausted that she sleeps in far later than she planned to the next morning

And maybe the whole time she's asleep it's just a series of stress dreams of not being taken seriously and being unable to move forward with what she needs to do

It begins slowly for her. First her eyes are opening and she's registering how late it is. Then she sees you're not next to her, your day has already started. Without anyone there to ask she has no idea how long she's been asleep -

But how long has she been asleep? The normal hustle and bustle of the Palace is muted since it's mostly in the main halls now, her wing is silent, she doesn't know where Chandra is, this is a nightmare

But she's been having nightmares all night, and apparently all morning, and don't tell her

Oh god, don't tell her this is another nightmare too

You know to check up on her because Chandra came flapping into your face with the kind of urgency you've learned not to ignore

When you walk in she's somehow pacing and hyperventilating at the same time, in uncharacteristic disarray

Her hair is starting to tangle, she's clutching her robe to herself, and her eyes are darting from wall to wall without registering anything

The first thing to do is get into her field of vision where she can focus on you. Once she does that, the fastest way to help her calm down is to answer all her questions

Once she has something to anchor herself with she's very quick to recover

She's a little embarrassed about how easily she was affected, but she appreciates your discretion and becomes more open with you as a result

No matter how late she stays up, she insists you never leave without waking her to let her know

Muriel

Oof, he's been getting these for years

The only big difference is that now you're around to see it happen, where he used to just ride it out on his own

It happens way less often than it used to. Overthrowing Lucio with you made him confront the source of most of his trauma and it's been helping him heal

But hey, it still happens. The first time after you two get together, he forgets you're even there

He's in the woods with you, clearing a path with his staff, when a stray branch snags on his hair and pulls out his bun

His hair is falling in his face, he's still going through the motions of hacking at the underbrush, but he can't see anything and some of the sticks are whipping around and scratching his arms and face

The last straw is when he steps forward onto a sandy patch of ground and then he's back in the Coliseum, gripping his weapon and looking at the person he's about to kill through his curtain of hair, hearing the jeers and boos of Lucio's followers

As soon as he can move he's heading for the hut as fast as possible

His normal routine was just to get somewhere safe and isolated, where he could wait for it to pass without worrying about being noticed

You saw him freeze when his hair got snagged, but by the time you noticed all the signs of panic he was taking off, leaving you behind and very confused

He didn't seem to hear you when you called his name, but Inanna knew what was going on and she was able to lead you to where he was

When you find him he is tucked into a nook in the back of the hut, shaking and hyperventilating and somehow staying completely silent

You need to ground him in the present, so you get the area smelling of myrrh while Inanna climbs into his lap to put pressure on him

Eventually he's able to listen to you talk him through some breathing exercises and the shaking stops

It'll take a while, but he'll open up to you about what it was like. He's never been able to tell anyone else because they would blame themselves, but you've proven that you're strong enough to handle the details

He'll slowly start to stand straighter afterwards, like there's less to hide from, and each time it happens again he comes out of it a little faster

Portia

She'll never admit it to anyone else, but she gets panic attacks about her Aunt Tasya

Can you blame her? One of her two remaining relatives turns into a strange version of the Devil and threatens to sacrifice the world, including herself and those she loves, and then snaps out of it after she talks her down?

She loves the life she has now, she loves you, and she's so free to forgive, but the trauma doesn't disappear and she doesn't know what to do with it

The two of you are meeting with Nadia one afternoon between ambassador trips and she informs you that Tasya will be arriving in Vesuvia for a visit in a few days

You and Nadia both notice the way all the blood drains from Portia's face. She hasn't moved at all but her eyes are staring at something miles away

Nadia dismisses you and you're able to pull her into a more secluded part of the gardens before she completely melts down

Her hands are shaking, there are tears streaming down her cheeks, she's trying to speak to you but she can't catch her breath, she can tell you're worried and she hates worrying you

But more than anything, she's racked with guilt. She loves her aunt, she's forgiven her aunt, she knows that she is stronger than her aunt, she should be looking forward to seeing her again

And yet all she wants to do is grab you and hide. Just the thought of meeting her on the docks makes her nauseated with anxiety and she doesn't know what to do because this isn't how she's supposed to feel about family

You'll have to hold her face in your hands and force her to look at you. The grounding techniques work at first, but until she tells you what's hurting her she can only get so far

At first she can't even make eye contact because she feels so ashamed, but you're able to tell her that whatever she's feeling, it's okay, you won't judge

Once she tells you you'll have to spend the next ten minutes telling her she's not a bad person for what she feels

You're able to talk about it more in depth later, and when the time comes you make sure to be with her anytime you meet with Tasya

Being validated like that helps her to reestablish what family means to her, and she's grateful that you're part of hers

Lucio

His panic attacks are mostly around the Devil and his fear of getting trapped again

Acknowledging his past mistakes was critical for his personal growth, but it also meant facing the fear of being responsible for bad things happening

His panic is more likely to be triggered by old mental habits than anything else

He'll be with you on a job, annoyed by some detail or another, and entirely out of habit he'll think "this would be easier if I could make a deal with someone about it."

And suddenly the rest of his mind is screaming at him. Why would he think that? Is he actually going to go down that path again? He just thought that so easily, what if he actually made that mistake again?

Visions are flashing through his mind of relapsing, slowly bargaining away everything he takes for granted, losing you in the process and having no second chance for redemption

He doesn't want to be who he used to. He doesn't want to - he doesn't want to - he doesn't want to

You'll notice him suddenly stop walking, his eyes fixed on a random nearby object while he's lost in thought

You'll see a sheen of sweat appearing on his face and his hand will begin to tremble

Mercedes and Melchior have been his companions for years, after this has happened once or twice they'll even know to alert you to an impending episode

He'll be muttering pleas under his breath and when you touch him he's started to go cold

The best thing to do is get him to drink some cold water. Something about the action grounds him more effectively than anything else you've tried

You'll get him to sit down against the nearest tree and the two dogs are handling it perfectly, leaning heavily against him and licking his face

Once you've managed to ground him, you'll have to convince him to tell you what he's worried about even if it makes him sound lame

This is the moment where you can praise him without worrying about puffing up his ego. You get to tell him how strong he's become, how much he's changed, why he's worthy of your love

He won't like to acknowledge it after, but he'll hold your hand for the rest of the day

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana fluff #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson #the arcana angst

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helios-writings · 1 year

Text

Kind Stranger

Vash x gn!Reader

wc: 1.2k

notes: general fluff, kissing, sharing a bed.

After getting lost on your way to a new town, you get directions from a kind stranger.

The desert was hot and windy, but you endured it as you made your way to your next destination, wherever that was. You looked closer at the map, but couldn’t make sense of the direction you were headed in, which meant that you were lost.

You groaned and shoved the map back into your pocket, getting ready to turn back the way you came when someone tapped you on the shoulder. “Um, excuse me?”

You shrieked in surprise, nearly falling over in your hurry to back away from the stranger., but he made no move to harm you.

His face was red and his green eyes were wide. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you, I just wanted to offer you my help.”

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to sneak up on someone?”

“Maybe, maybe not. You seemed lost, so I came over to help.”

You sighed heavily. “I’m trying to find the nearest town, any idea where it is?”

The man thought for a moment and then pointed opposite of where you were facing. “About five miles that way.”

You grinned. “Thanks, I appreciate it. Are you headed that way too?”

He shook his head. “Heading the way you came, I hear the townsfolk are real friendly!”

“Well, I hope we run into each other again someday.”

He smiled. “Me too. You take care now, y’hear?”

You watched him walk away until he disappeared into the sandy hills, but it wasn’t until his red coat was swallowed up by the desert that you realized you hadn’t asked for his name.

***

It was a few weeks before you saw your kind stranger again, but he never strayed far from your thoughts. Who was he? Most people would’ve left you to die by the desert’s hand or robbed you, but he didn’t do any of that. You wondered if you would be able to return the favor one day.

Right at this exact moment, however, you were lost again and you wondered why you became a traveler if you were going to end up in this position so often.

“Dad was right,” you mutter to yourself, “if the sand doesn’t kill me, something else will.”

“Lost again, I take it?” Asked a familiar voice from your left.

You turned and grinned. “Hey stranger, heading my way?”

“And which way is your way?”

“I’m supposed to be headed towards May, but I can’t find it on my map.”

“Can I see that?” He questioned, green eyes eyeballing the map in your hand.

“If you can make more sense of it than me, sure.” You handed him the aged piece of paper.

“Well, you’ve got it upside down.”

Your eyes widened and you snatched it back from him. “No way. That’s so embarrassing! My folks were right, I’m going to die.”

He put a hand on your shoulder, in a comforting and gentle way, but his touch felt scorching. “Hey, don’t say that. Who listens to their parents, anyways?”

You sniffed. “I did, until I left home two months ago, but you don’t need to listen to me cry. We don’t even know each other.”

His hand left your shoulder and entered your own as he shook it. “Vash. Now we know each other and you can cry all you want.”

You laughed, and then looked at the sky darkening above you. “Wish I could, but if I want to reach May before nightfall, I’d better get a move on.”

Vash grinned at you. “Destined to go opposite ways, are we? I’ll see you next time.”

As the two of you went your separate ways, you felt his hand in yours and saw his smile in your mind when you closed your eyes. You hoped to see him again.

***

You don’t meet kind Vash on the road the next time you see him. In fact, you could say you don’t see him.

You run into someone as you both try to enter the inn at the same time, butting heads hard enough to make you wince.

“Ah jeez,” comes a voice you know well, “I’m so sorry.”

“Well, if it isn’t Vash, my personal navigator.”

He beams when he realizes it’s you. “It’s you! I knew our paths would cross again soon.”

“And we’re in the same place; a miracle in itself.”

The two of you walk up to the front desk, chatting as you do so.

The innkeep frowns as you approach. “I sure hope you two aren’t looking for a room; we’ve only got one left.”

Quicker than Vash can react, you take his hand and put on a lovesick. “My husband and I are on our honeymoon, so one room won’t be an issue for us, right dear?”

He nodded enthusiastically. “Of course, sweetheart.”

The man frowns but hands you the key. “Well, enjoy your stay.”

You snicker as soon as you're out of earshot and turn to Vash. “Well, dear husband, let’s go get some rest.”

He frowns. “You sure you want to share a room with a stranger?”

You rolled your eyes. “You helped me out when you didn’t know me, think of this as me saying thank you.”

“That was a little different.”

“Just share the room with me, Vash.”

He smiles, a little shocked. “You got it.”

The room in question is a little dusty, and there's a vase of fake flowers on a nightstand that have been there for so long, the colors have faded to gray, and right in the middle of it all is a king sized bed covered in orange bedding. It’s so ugly it makes you snort.

“Nice honeymoon location.” Vash jokes, standing awkwardly to one side.

“Better than sleeping out in the desert.” You tell him, shucking off your jacket and tossing it aside.

“You’re right about that.” He’s still standing stark still, even as you climb into bed.

“Vash, it’s fine. Just get in bed and sleep.”

He flushes. “Oh right!”

Vash takes off his own jacket, which covers a long sleeve black shirt, and clambers into the bed, facing you.

Your noses are touching.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” You tease.

“I should tell you something.” He whispers, breath fanning your face.

“Is this where you tell me you’re a wanted man? Because I knew that ages ago.”

His eyes widened. “You knew? And you didn’t care?”

“Of course I knew, there’s only one man named Vash that fits your description. And, as for being scared of you; well, you didn’t seem so evil back in the desert when you helped me.”

The Humanoid Typhoon kisses you roughly, startling you so bad you nearly fall out of the bed. You both sit up and one of his hands circles around to your back, pulling you as close as he can without making you sit on top of him. You kiss back with the same fervor, remembering the heat from his hand on your shoulder and needing it all over your body if he would let you.

Vash opens his eyes (so, so green, like nothing you’ve ever seen before) and he pulls away, embarrassed. “Guess I should’ve asked first, sorry.”

You pull him in and place your forehead against his own. “Believe me, I could’ve stopped you if I wanted to; wanted man or not.”

He laughs. “I believe you.”

And he pulls you into another kiss.

The next morning. When you ask him what direction he’s heading in, he just grins and says: “whatever direction you're headed in.”

#trigun x reader #trigun stampede x reader #vash the stampede x reader #vash x reader #trigun x you #trigun stampede x you #vash x you #vash the stampede x you #daylightarchive #Character☀️: Vash the Stampede #Fandom☀️: Trigun #sunbathing with: vash #reader insert

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acupofqueercoffee · 1 year

Text

“Dear stranger (Donna)”

cw :: smoking || mentions of self-h#rm || scars || unhealthy coping mechanisms’ more like it || height place phenomenon

howdy this gay is back in time for pride month (not really) just a little comfort fic i wrote for myself really. hugs from donna is not a want but a need rn 😭

─────────────────────

The cigarette smoke is bitter, leaving a pleasant burn on the back of your throat as you take a deep inhale. For a while, you hold your breath, allowing the chemicals to spread through your lungs before puffing it out of your lips eventually. Your neck, meanwhile, is bared to the sky, eyes lazily roaming over grey clouds of varying shades.

A mindless fingertip is tracing the silver lines along the length of your forearm. Another drag of the cigarette brings a chuckle to your lips, and the sound is dry and deprecating even to your own ears. Smoking is an awful habit, that you fully understand. But at the same time, it is undeniably cathartic. It was either that or a blade to the flesh. In no way do you wish to die, although you would not terribly mind dying. You cannot deny however that you do revel in the sensation of blood blooming on your skin, and in pain, you find euphoria.

With another hearty inhale, the cigarette bud slips through your fingers to be reunited with its fellow friends that have already met their untimely demise beneath your well-worn boots. You are tired, so so tired. Tired of the strangers that call themselves your family, tired of yourself for being so emotionally weak, for actively ruining yourself under the guise of release, tired for your mother’s stead for she has to listen to her brother and sister nitpicking about her daughter on top of handling incessant chores.

In this god-forsaken world, you have learnt that no one else can be as caring and tolerating as your parents, and you appreciate them for it. At least, your parents are endlessly loving which in itself is a luxury that not everyone can afford. You love them, oh how you love them, but you also hate yourself, for their only child ends up being a damaged goods.

At the moment, you do not have a clue where in the world you are, having wandered wherever your feet have been carrying you. A glance around reveals nothing much obscured as it is by thick fog. There is a rush of water somewhere below, and you conclude you must be standing atop a cliff with a waterfall. Sighing, you kick the cigarette buds off the edge, and it looks tempting, liberating: the way they plummet down the misty abyss. A sudden urge to throw yourself off the cliff comes with a vengeance, and it does not help that nicotine has you slightly tipsy, the world around you spinning as you wobble on your legs.

And then, before you know it, you are being pulled into a body, held close to a chest by an encirclement of arms around your back. A delightful aroma journeys up your nose as soon as your cheek collides with black fabric. It is soft to the touch, and smells faintly of tea that is quickly overshadowed by a soothing blend of jasmine and sandalwood. You cannot help but steal a generous inhale. The smoothness of jasmine certainly is a lovely complement to the spiciness of sandalwood.

“Don’t, please. I can’t let you.”

The soft spoken words are uttered by a voice that is charmingly deep, carried to you by a gentle breeze that tickles your exposed nape. A hint of desperation is discernible in her quiet murmur, and the gentleness of it wildly contracts with the cage of arms whose tightness around you becomes nearly unbearable. It is oddly calming, freeing despite the confinement, and the realisation is as much a relief as it is a surprise.

What you have been needing after all is to be embraced, to be comforted, to feel wanted, and how ironic it is that your salvation is found within the arms of a stranger. No questions are asked. You find no strangeness in her actions. Nor does your mind feel stable enough to deem it necessary to compose yourself. The dam breaks, and you fall apart. Burying your face in the chest of this black-cladded stranger while hugging her close to yourself, you cry, oh how you cry, loud, miserable sobs spilling forth your lips as you grab fistful of her dress.

When the body in your arms tenses in an uncomfortable way, you are too far gone to notice, and so too when the arms around your body suddenly lose their bravado. Regardless of the hesitation, you are met with no hands that are forcing you away from her. Only after a moment or two when your tears do not cease does a kind hand find the crown of your head.

Tentatively, placatingly, gentle fingers stroke your hair. You adjust in the hold of your salvation only to be met with even more dark fabric. Through a haze of tears, you regard the veiled woman with curiosity, occasional bouts of hiccuping sobs accompanying your otherwise silent scrutiny.

“You-”

A calloused pad of a thumb that gingerly follows a tear track elicits a sigh from you, and then, the same palm is cradling your cheek, the coolness of which is desirable against your feverish skin. Along with a flex of her fingers on your back, the veil goes aflutter right beneath where her nose is supposed to be when you decide to rest your chin between the junction of her collarbones. No sooner does the hand on your cheek go to cover your eyes than you go boneless in her arms. Your nose meanwhile is tickled by a saccharinely sweet scent that smells both floral and vaguely herbal.

And then, you blink.

And suddenly, the world goes dark.

─────────────────────

#donna beneviento x reader #lady donna beneviento #lady beneviento #house beneviento #character x reader #fanfic #resident evil donna #resident evil village #hurt/comfort #fluff #comfort #self indulgence time #self indulgence babey #self indulgence at its finest

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mysadcorner · 1 year

Note

Hihi!

I was wondering if I could request what would Shaggy, from scooby doo, be like as a father? And this doesn't even need to be an x reader thing, this can just be a in general Shaggy being a father, to a son or daughter, or both idc :))

Shaggy As A Dad Headcanons

- Credit to the gifs owner - Please be specific about characters wanted in requests -

Masterlist Navigation

• Shaggy would be quite a nervous parent when he first finds out that you’re going to be born, or once you’ve finally arrived. He’s never had such a responsibility before and he certainly doesn’t have experience in the full time care of a child, so he’s pretty jumpy to begin with.

• He’s always keeping an eye on you to make sure that nothing happens, and for the first few years he’s around you constantly in the fear of something happening. Once you start to grow though he gives you much more space, but he will still worry about you and will definitely be there if anything does happen to you no matter how big or small.

• Shaggy is certainly the fun parent, and because of how much he lets you get away with there will definitely need to be a stricter parent or his friends that remind him you can’t do everything you always want to do. You get a lot of good memories with him because of this, and are still able to have fun with him as a close friend and parent once you’re older and even an adult.

• He is a very hands on parent and will volunteer to do as much for you and helping out as much as he can. Hell even give up all of his free time for you because he loves you so much. Once he’s got the hang of things he may even take on the roll of looking after you full time while your other parent is working or going out, especially as he always finds joy in being with you no matter the situation

• Shaggy would try his best to help you with school but it might not end up always going well; however, there are a few subjects he’s pretty good at which may surprise the people around him. The good thing is that he knows a lot of people with various qualities, so whatever you’re struggling with there will always be someone to help you out.

• Shaggy isn’t the type of guy to leave when he has a child, so you can certainly expect him to stay in your life forever. Even when you’re all grown up, he’ll sometimes just show up unannounced to wherever you are if you haven’t gone with him and it’ll always be a lot of fun once he’s there with you.

• Watching you get older sometimes makes Shaggy upset as he’s constantly reminded of when you were a small child and relied on him a lot. You having your own independence makes him feel unneeded sometimes so you may need to remind him that you always want him around and you’re still the small child he remembers no matter how old you get.

• You’ll constantly be seeing a lot of his friends, especially the gang. They’re always together, and he often brings you on the trips he goes on with them. You may even end up in a similar line of work to what he does because of how much joy and influence it’s had over you - plus the connections you’ve made along the way were pretty helpful.

#shaggy and scooby #shaggy rogers #shaggy x reader #shaggy #scooby gang #scooby doo #shaggy x you #shaggy x y/n #shaggy headcanons

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heliads · 2 years

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hey there!! i would love to see a fluffy imagine where draco starts eating green apples bc it reminds him how the reader smells (sorry if i said something wrong, my english isn't that good yet) tysm

i love your imagines <3

no please i was hoping for a chance to write for harry potter, it's been too long

masterlist

Draco Malfoy is in love, and he hates it. He hates it with every bone in his body, every ligament and nerve and neuron that conspired to make him fall in love with his best friend. There is no chance that this little crush could possibly go anywhere, not with the two of them being who they are the way they are, but still. Draco’s heart persists, and he’s lost on her. It’s terrible.

In a perfect world, this never would have happened. Draco knows full well that there’s only a specific list of people that he could possibly marry, and that this list has most likely been drawn up by his parents when they were a little too nervous and full of envy towards the wealthiest wizarding families that don’t yet include Malfoys.

They’d have to be rich, certainly, his future spouse. Smart, cunning, a Slytherin. If they found somebody that checked all the boxes but was a Ravenclaw, they might unhappily let it slide, so long as Draco provided them with proof that it would work out.

He’s known this all along, that in the end he’ll likely never have any say over the person he’ll spend the rest of his life bound to in eternal contract. That may be why he fell for Y/N, actually, the last shred of rebellion left in him trying to act out before finally being shut down. Still, some part of him has always wondered if he might manage to get out of it somehow.

After all, surely his parents were able to do it, too. Sometimes, Draco wonders how that worked out, if they’ve ever loved each other at all or if they were yet another match drawn up by yet another generation of parents. How far does this go back, this endless tide of formality? All they have is pure blood and old magic, nothing more and nothing less. It is one neverending monotony.

He doesn’t think that was entirely the case with his parents, though. They still talk to each other like they don’t want to ever be without their counterpart, like they’ve never been a chore, not to each other. Perhaps they loved each other and found a way to bend the system long enough to get married. Besides, before his mother was a Malfoy she was Narcissa Black, and she always cherished that little headstrong spark that told her to get what she wanted, no questions asked.

So, looking at Y/N, Draco thinks that he might even have a chance. All he has to do is make it count. Then again, the problem with his crush on Y/N is that it was born of misfortune, and he knows it. Draco loves Y/N like Icarus loved the sun, how a curious finger loves an open flame. There is no world in which he’ll be able to have her, not without burning himself to ashes, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t want to try anyway. His future has already been prophesied and written out in stone, but Draco will attempt to fight it anyway. Such is the fate of men.

The worst part of it is how close they are, how close they will always be. The worst part of falling for your best friend is that you can’t escape it, no matter how hard you try. Wherever Draco goes, he is confronted with Y/N smiling over some joke, Y/N walking with him to class, Y/N in every corner and tower of this place. He can’t go a moment without seeing her, so how is he supposed to last a lifetime?

She’s across the table from him now, both of them sequestered at the Slytherin section of the Great Hall. Draco has friends on either side of him, but even they aren’t enough to bolster him. Nothing in this world can keep him secure from the feeling that he will be like this forever: always separated by something, a table, a family, anything.

For all intents and purposes, though, she’s right there, right out of reach. Draco knows every piece of her like a puzzle, but he can’t seem to figure out how to make a picture in which they’re both together. He knows how her eyes shine when she laughs, the furrow in her brow whenever she studies. The scent of her perfume teases him now, making it impossible to think about anything else. It’s sweet and sharp, blood curled like roses around a dagger.

Draco’s fingers itch at his sides to do something, anything, but he can’t find physical relief. If he could, he would reach out and take hold of Y/N’s heart now, maybe find a way to make it beat in tune with his, but he can’t. Instead he grabs an apple from a nearby serving tray. It’s green, and reminds him of the shine of the summer sun on Y/N’s tie. For months now, he’s had to hold himself back from fixing the cloth strip even when it’s crooked, because the call to keep his hands lingering on her would be too much for him to handle.

The apple cracks beneath his teeth in a crisp sound, drenching his teeth in sweet sour. The fruit is good for something, perhaps, because it stoppers up his despair when Pansy starts asking about the boy she saw Y/N with recently. Y/N claims that she’s stuck on some boy on the Quidditch team, and Draco looks away hurriedly so she won’t see the flash of pain in his eyes and he won’t see how she glances at him again and again when she says it. The sweet juice of the fruit almost covers up the bile rising in his throat. Almost.

One week later, Draco finds himself in one of many courtyards on the Hogwarts grounds. This one is home to a few twisting apple trees, brought here by some wizard long since dead. This one bears green fruit, similar to the one he’d had the other day. Draco isn’t particularly hungry, but the sweet scent rolling off of the tree in waves caught his attention as he was passing by.

It reminds him of Y/N’s perfume. Walking here underneath the branches, he can practically feel the sweet air pressing against him like a second skin, enveloping him in the sensation that for right now, he is not alone. If he closes his eyes, he can pretend that he is not alone.

It isn’t enough, though, this dream. None of Draco’s dreams ever are. He opens his eyes and stares resolutely at the gnarled tree, the branches as thick as his arm that stretch up to the sky. Aren’t we all reaching for something we can’t have? Even trees, wretched guardians with their centuries of life, still search the sky for the chance that they, too, might touch it someday.

Draco’s nails cut into the skin of an apple as he pulls it from the tree. He stares at it, nestled in his palm like poor Yorick, before biting into it anyway. This one is more sour than the others, it almost burns his tongue with its sharp tang. Draco eats it as he walks, occasionally tossing it in the air just so he can feel it return to him again. There will never be an end to this emptiness, will there? As long as he lives (or as short), he will never find himself complete.

Draco’s affinity for green apples only grows over the next few weeks. He can’t explain it, nor does he truly need an explanation. He didn’t think anyone really noticed, either, until one day he rounds a corner of the school on a break between classes and finds Y/N walking towards him, green apple in hand.

She raises it in acknowledgement, easily drifting to his side as if he’d been her end goal all along. “Figured I’d join you on the trend. These are pretty good, actually.”

Draco feels so surprised that she’s noticed this miniscule change in his behavior that he almost doesn’t know what to say. “What?”

She flashes him a grin, quick as a sparrow. “I saw you eating green apples specifically,” she says, “Although I didn’t get it at first, I do now. These are delicious.”

Draco blinks at her, confused. “Thanks, I think. Were you specifically waiting to find me before you started eating it?”

He gestures at the unbitten surface of the apple, and Y/N laughs. “Well, I figured having the actual prop in my hand would explain the conversation topic. Also, I wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

Draco frowns. “You’ve never needed an excuse before.”

Y/N sighs. “That was before. I don’t know why, but you’ve started acting differently. Figured if I could get you to talk about something as insignificant as green apples, you might stick around for longer than a couple minutes.”

Draco winces. He didn’t think he was being that obvious, but really, it’s been hard to look Y/N in the eyes every day knowing full well that he’d gladly spend the rest of his life with her if she even gave him a fraction of her time. Seeing as she’d never feel the same way, well, what’s the point in all of this?

“Guess I’ve been distracted. I’ve got a lot of things going on right now, as you well know.”

Draco kind of hates himself as soon as he says it. He sounds like his father’s son right now, some sort of arrogant, brash boy who pretends he doesn’t need anyone to cover up the fact that he needs them far too much. His own self-fulfilling prophecy is coming true; Draco is already the son that his parents think he’ll be. The only problem is that Y/N has always been too good for a Malfoy boy, which is why he’s done his best to hide this side of himself.

Y/N arches a brow, as able as ever to see straight through him. “Our most recent round of exams ended last week, so I’d say that you aren’t that busy. Look, you’ve always been honest with me. Can you just tell me if you don’t want to spend time with me anymore? It’ll make this easier for both of us.”

Draco’s breath catches in his throat. How does he tell her that he wants nothing of the sort, that he’s been cutting himself off so he doesn’t encroach on her own freedom? If Draco was half as selfish as Y/N thinks he is, he would have never left. He never would allow himself to live in a world without her, even for a minute.

His pride, however, doesn’t allow him to say a word of that. Draco despises that of himself, that even in this critical moment he still cares about what the nameless masses will think of him, but it’s the truth, and it will never go away.

“I do want to spend time with you,” he manages, “Just like everyone else. I didn’t realize that you felt that way.”

Y/N’s laugh is a little too jaded to be real. “I wouldn’t know that from seeing you. Draco, we have been friends since our first year. Can you at least stop lying to me? I think you owe me that much.”

Draco stares at her, tries to come up with a suitable excuse that won’t completely butcher his heart, and fails. His final boundaries are caving, just as he feared they always would. Draco assumed he would be able to hide his feelings forever, but it makes sense that the one person he would end up telling would be Y/N herself. He has never been able to keep walls up between the two of them, not even in his heart.

At last, he raises his chin in one last attempt at a protective shield, and tells her the truth. “I love you,” he says as simply as he can, “I love you, and it scares me that you don’t feel the same. Too much time getting what I want, I suppose, I don’t know what to do now that I can’t have it anymore.”

He disguises the words behind a self-deprecating sort of smile, the same smile his father wears when politicking with the best. He is a politician’s son, a duplicitous prodigy, and he will never be able to escape the Malfoy legacy.

Y/N is deadly silent, and to spare himself further pain, Draco turns and starts to leave. He doesn’t get very far, though, before Y/N calls out after him.

“Who said anything about you not getting what you want?”

Draco freezes in place, not daring to even turn around. Y/N walks slowly up to him, until she’s standing in front of him once more.

“I know how I feel,” she admits, “and it’s far more than I should. I like you too, Draco, if you’ll have me. Just stop trying to be a martyr about it all, okay?”

Draco stares at her, mind reeling, and then the stormy skies clear long enough for him to smile. “I’ll do my best.”

Y/N smiles too, and at last, Draco knows that he will be alright. Perhaps fate finds itself capable of skipping a generation on occasion. Draco has just found love regardless of status, and it means everything to him. As it turns out, breaking a prophecy only requires a loophole of suitable force, and he has discovered it in loving Y/N. Nothing could bring him more happiness.

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