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#new au idea lads
shellyseashell · 1 year
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frollo burns all of quasimodo’s letters. no matter how long he’s lived away from his uncle, no matter how much he’s healed from that trauma (or at least, he’s working on it), there’s some things he can’t shake. and so he writes frollo letters.
claudine watches her father burn them. he never tells her who they’re from. she never asks. one day, she asks jehan. he tells her they’re from quasimodo. she didn’t know you could communicate between auradon and the isle, but gil told her about people he knows who have family in auradon who they write letters to.
she asks jehan why he doesn’t stop frollo from burning them and replies. “he has gone this long without me,” he says. “i do not think it would be welcome.” claudine isn’t sure she agrees, but she says nothing.
jehan suggests she try writing him. they are cousins, after all, he knows better than anyone what she’s going through. claudine figured it can’t be the worst thing she’ll ever do. she’s already begun sneaking out. besides, it gets lonely with just her uncle and gil around.
i don’t know if this will be welcome, she writes. but father burns all your letters, and that doesn’t seem fair, so i figured i’d write you. it gets lonely anyway. i have uncle jehan, and gaston’s son gil, and sometimes i find the pirates trailing me through the market, but father does his best to keep me isolated. what was it like for you, in the bell tower, all alone? i don’t live in a bell tower, but sometimes i think father is considering it. i hope not. i hate small spaces. anyway, i’m sorry for rambling, and i’m sorry if you don’t want this letter. if you don’t want to reply, that’s fine, but if you do, address it to gilbert legume. he’ll make sure i get the letter.
she gets a response a week later.
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meadow-art · 5 months
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Just found a Yeosang stan who's also an aventurine stan. we won guys
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w2sarcher · 5 months
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idk if you feel comfortable writing about this but maybe social media about dilf Harry (he gives this energy sm in all those golf vids), so Harry and y/n parents moments 🫶
ahhh love this idea and as we all can tell from my blog i love golf harry its like my roman empire &&& i can just imagine a cute little blonde bubba harry :((( so cute! hope u enjoy <3 not proof read so might be some typos
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dilf! | harry lewis
summary: social media of y/n & harry as parents
face claim: emily ratajkowski
masterlist
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yourusername posted a photo!
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liked by faithlouiseak & 680,029 others! yourusername happy two years of my little archie harry lewis. two years of being the best boy we could ever ask for you & your dad's mini me. we love you lots and lots angel boy! tagged wroetoshaw view all 10k comments
faithlouiseak happy birthday to olive's bestie!!! -> yourusername unbeatable duo olive & archie
taliamar oh he's tooo cute -> yourusername if he had instagram he'd say thanks auntie talia xxx
freyanightingale gorgeous boy and milf xxx -> yourusername me and arch love u xxx zerkaa happy birthday archie (from your favourite uncle) ->vikkstagram that's me! -> calfreezy lads there's no competition, i'm his godfather...?
wroetofan omg he's harry's twin 😭
sidemenfan i'll never get over the fact that wroetoshaw has a two year old, 2014 me is crying 🥹🥹🥹
harryfan1 my fave youtube family
wroetoshaw ❤️
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wroetoshaw posted a photo!
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liked by ksi & 982,029 others! wroetoshaw Happy 2nd birthday to the 2nd most famous guernsey-born boy. Archie Harry Lewis.
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yourusername shut up 😭😭😭
zerkaa happy birthday again archie (from your favourite uncle) ->vikkstagram stop the fake news on social media
wroetofan archie is defo more famous than harry at this rate
sidemenfan omg him and the bubba i can't 😭😭😭
harryfan1 so cute archie and their two dogs, such a wholesome family
wroetofan aww he was born in guernsey
ksi happy birthday bro! -> wroetoshaw did you just call my child bro
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a/n: just a little short social media au for you all. hope you enjoy! going to be a bit slow with posts as of now because i have loads of uni exams but will post part 3 of noisy neighbours soon <3
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ijustmissyouraccenths · 5 months
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The Alchemy
AU where Harry is the star quarterback at his college and y/n is an English major.
Based very loosely off The Alchemy by Taylor Swift
CW: Smut
Word Count: 6,871
Leaving my family to go to University was a bittersweet decision. My heart tugged at the thought of being away from them, but my passion for mastering the art of English pulled me towards my dream. My family had always been my biggest supporters and I wanted to make them proud by becoming an English professor. This meant leaving behind my comfortable life in a small suburban town in Florida to study abroad at one of the most prestigious universities. The campus was nestled in the very heart of where literary greats had once roamed and created their masterpieces. It was as if the walls exuded inspiration and creativity, urging me to chase after my dreams with even more fervor. Though I missed my family dearly, I knew that this journey would lead me to become the best version of myself and honor their unwavering support and love.
It was a whirlwind of experiences as I made my way through the unfamiliar streets. The currency conversion was a constant challenge, with every transaction feeling like a game of guesswork. And then there was the driving - on the opposite side of the road no less - which required all of my concentration to avoid any mishaps. But perhaps most daunting of all was the non-stop partying at pubs, a culture shock for someone like me who had grown up in a small town in America.
Thankfully, I was able to find a flat that was within walking distance from the school, and even luckier to have another American girl as my roommate. Mia was a sweet, bubbly girl from the middle of nowhere Kansas, embracing every aspect of British culture including the pub scene and the charming local lads.
Living with Mia meant constantly having people over, and it seemed like every night brought new faces into our home. I didn't mind too much, mostly enjoying the lively atmosphere and meeting new people. However, there were definitely some moments that tested my patience, like when one of Mia's friends named Arthur ended up getting sick and leaving his mark in our kitchen. Despite these occasional hiccups, I was grateful for this experience abroad and all the unique encounters it brought my way.
Though Mia's social butterfly nature could be trying at times, I appreciated her warm companionship in this foreign place. It was on one such night, after we had cleaned up the remnants of Arthur's ill-fated escapades, that we found ourselves cozied up with mugs of tea and watching the rain patter against the windows. 
Mia was unusually pensive as she stared out into the drizzly Manchester night. "You know," she began softly, "sometimes I wonder if I'm chasing the wrong dreams. My parents wanted me to become a doctor or lawyer, something stereotypically successful, but I just wanted adventure. Now here I am, living it up in England, but it all feels...empty, like I'm still searching for meaning."
I nodded thoughtfully, sensing the vulnerability in her words. Though Mia put on a bubbly facade, there was more depth to her than met the eye. 
"I think the great thing about being here is that we have time to figure it all out," I offered gently. "We're writing our own stories, not just following someone else's script." 
Mia smiled, some of the spark returning to her eyes. "You're right. That's exactly why I love being here with you."
As the rain continued to drum against the windows, Mia and I sat in comfortable silence for a moment, each lost in our own thoughts. Finally, Mia turned to me with a curious expression.
"Do you ever have doubts about your dreams, too?" Mia asked, her voice tinged with vulnerability.
I considered her question for a moment before responding, "All the time. Sometimes I wonder if I'm on the right path or if I'm just going through the motions."
Mia nodded understandingly, her eyes reflecting the shimmer of uncertainty. "It's scary, isn't it? The idea that we might wake up one day and realize we've been chasing a dream all along."
I placed a comforting hand on Mia's shoulder. "It is scary, but it's also part of the journey. We're allowed to question and evolve along the way."
She smiled weakly, her gaze drifting back to the rain-splattered window. "I guess that's what makes life interesting, right? The uncertainty of it all."
Our conversation was interrupted by a sudden knock on the door. Mia got up to answer it, revealing a group of our friends who had decided to brave the rainy night for an impromptu gathering.
"Come in, come in!" Mia exclaimed cheerfully, ushering everyone inside. The room quickly filled with laughter and chatter as our friends settled in.
As I looked around the group, my eyes landed on a few familiar faces who have crossed paths with me several times before. Among them was Arthur, a friendly face that always brought a sense of comfort and familiarity. As everyone piled into the room, my gaze wandered to him - Harry Styles, the renowned quarterback of our school's football team. I couldn't help but feel a tinge of excitement at being in the presence of such a well-known athlete. When I first arrived from the United States, I had assumed the term "football" referred to what we call soccer back home. But as I soon discovered, American Football was just as beloved and popular in the UK.
Harry noticed me looking his way and met my gaze. There was an intensity in his green eyes that made me quickly avert my own, focusing instead on my friend Grace who was animatedly sharing a story next to me. 
I tried to tune into her words, but my thoughts kept drifting back to the handsome footballer across the room. By all accounts, Harry was cocky, brash, and a bit of a player. And yet, I couldn't deny there was something magnetic about him. He carried himself with a self-assured swagger, his athletic frame filling out his clothes in a way that betrayed his strength. 
I scolded myself internally. Just because he's nice to look at doesn't change the fact that he seems like an arrogant jock. Still, when our eyes met again, I felt a flutter in my stomach I couldn't ignore. 
Harry said something to his friend that made the group erupt into laughter. He flashed a crooked smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. I quickly looked away once more, but the image of his smile lingered in my mind.
Get it together, I told myself sternly. Harry is off-limits. With his reputation, getting involved would only lead to trouble. I turned my focus back to Grace, pushing all thoughts of Harry's eyes, smile and broad shoulders out of my head. 
For the rest of the night, I avoided looking in Harry's direction, though I could feel his gaze on me periodically as the hours wore on. By the time people started trickling out, I felt certain I had avoided any direct interaction with the dashing footballer. 
That is, until I went to lock the door behind the last guest and found him standing there. He flashed that crooked smile again as he leaned against the door frame. "See you around, Y/N," he said, holding my gaze for a moment before disappearing into the night. I stood frozen, my heart racing as I replayed those five simple words in my head.
As I stood there in shock at Harry's unexpected presence, I couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions swirling inside me. His parting words echoed in my mind, leaving me slightly breathless and unsure of what to make of the situation. Gathering my composure, I locked the door behind him and turned to find Mia watching me with a knowing smile.
"Looks like someone caught your eye, Y/N," Mia teased, nudging me playfully. "Harry Styles, huh? Quite the charmer."
I flushed slightly at her comment, trying to brush off any implications. "Oh, come on, Mia. It's not like that," I deflected, hoping to downplay the significance of the moment.
But Mia wasn't convinced. "Sure, sure," she replied with a wink. "Just remember, not all that glitters is gold."
Her words lingered in my mind as I bid her goodnight and retreated to my room. Sitting on my bed, I couldn't shake off the image of Harry's smile or the way he had looked at me in that brief moment by the door. The conflicting thoughts swirled in my head, leaving me restless and contemplative.
The following day at school, as I made my way through the bustling halls, I noticed a familiar figure leaning against the lockers up ahead. It was Harry, his usual confident demeanor on full display as he chatted with his friends. As our eyes met briefly, he flashed a grin in my direction before turning back to his conversation.
Feeling a surge of boldness, I approached him tentatively. "Hey, Harry," I greeted him, trying to keep my tone casual despite the flutter in my stomach.
"Hey there, Y/N," he responded with a smirk, his green eyes twinkling mischievously. "Didn't think you'd show up here again so soon."
I felt my cheeks flush at his words. Clearly he was referring to my abrupt exit last night after our brief encounter at the door. I scrambled to think of a clever response. 
"Well, we do go to the same school," I pointed out, trying to keep my voice light despite the nerves I felt. 
Harry chuckled, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he regarded me with amusement. 
"True enough," he conceded. "But I got the sense you were trying to avoid me last night. Did I make you nervous?"
His bluntness took me aback. I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. Harry's eyes danced with mirth at my flustered state. 
"Cat got your tongue?" He teased. 
I took a steadying breath, determined not to let him get the best of me. "You wish," I retorted, hoping the bravado in my voice sounded more convincing than I felt. 
Harry laughed, a rich warm sound that made my knees weak. Our eyes locked and in that moment, it was like the noisy hallway melted away and there was only the two of us.
"Feisty. I like it," he murmured. Before I could respond, the warning bell rang, snapping us both back to reality. 
"See you around, Y/N," Harry said with a wink before disappearing into the swarm of students heading to class. 
My body froze in place, heart thudding against my ribs as I gazed at the infamous Harry. He exuded an undeniable air of trouble, and yet, as our charged banter replayed in my mind, I couldn't deny the adrenaline pumping through my veins. With a determined stride, I made my way to class, refusing to let this boy be the cause of my tardiness.
I took a seat in my Studies of Shakespeare class, the one subject I truly loved. The works of William Shakespeare never failed to captivate me, and if you could understand the Elizabethan lingo, his witty humor shone through brilliantly. Unfortunately, this particular teacher seemed to have a talent for draining all the life and humor out of these masterpieces.
I tried to focus as the professor droned on about the themes in Romeo and Juliet, but my mind kept wandering back to my encounter with Harry. Something about our charged banter had awakened feelings in me that I didn't quite understand. 
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a folded piece of paper land on my desk as if taken out of a scene from a movie. I looked around furtively before opening it. In an unfamiliar scrawling handwriting it read:
"What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun." - H
I felt a thrill run through me and quickly tucked the note into my bag before the professor could notice. So Harry was in this class too? I scanned the room subtly until I spotted him a few rows behind me. He caught my eye and gave me a roguish wink.
I turned back to the front, trying to ignore the simmering exhilaration I felt. Over the next few days, the notes kept coming during Shakespeare class, each with a quote or two from the Bard himself. They were usually cheeky and flirtatious, hinting at some blossoming rapport between us.
I found myself anticipating each one, my heart skipping a beat when I would spot a new folded note on my desk. Our eyes would meet across the room, a hidden smile just between us.
After class one day, as I gathered my things, I sensed Harry approach my desk. "So when's our study session?" he asked nonchalantly, though there was a glint of something more in his eyes. I hesitated, knowing I should keep my distance, yet unable to deny I was intrigued.
I nervously tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, trying to appear nonchalant. "Well, I don't know... I've heard you're not the most dedicated studier," I teased, giving him a playful smile.
Harry chuckled, his eyes sparkling mischievously. "Oh, but that's where you're wrong. I may not look like it, but I'm quite the Shakespeare aficionado," he replied with a grin.
I raised an eyebrow in skepticism. "Is that so? Well, I suppose we could arrange a study session... if you can prove your expertise," I challenged, a hint of challenge in my tone.
His grin widened, accepting the challenge. "Consider it done. How about we meet at the library tomorrow after school?" Harry suggested, his gaze unwavering.
I hesitated for a moment, the thrill of anticipation coursing through me. "Alright, it's a date then," I agreed, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of spending more time with him.
As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Harry flashed me one last grin before disappearing into the bustling hallway. My heart raced with both nervousness and exhilaration as I packed up my belongings, eager for our upcoming study session.
The following day at the library, I found myself anxiously scanning the room for Harry. My pulse quickened when I spotted him sitting at a table in the corner, a stack of Shakespearean plays spread out in front of him.
I made my way over to him, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement swirling inside me. "Ready to impress me with your Shakespeare knowledge?" I asked with a teasing smile as I took a seat across from him.
Harry flashed me a charming grin. "Just watch and learn," he said confidently, picking up a copy of Romeo and Juliet and flipping to a random page.
As he began to recite lines from the play with passion and flair, I couldn't help but be captivated by his enthusiasm. His eyes lit up as he delved into each line, bringing the centuries-old words to life in a way that was both mesmerizing and captivating.
By the time our study session ended, I found myself completely enthralled by Harry's interpretation of Shakespeare's works. As we gathered our things to leave, he turned to me with a twinkle in his eye, he knew a lot more about the works than he let on to.
Harry turned to me, “So now that I’ve shown you i’m smart, I know Shakespeare, when are you coming to one of my games?” he asked confidently.
I was taken aback by his forward invitation. Attending one of his football games felt intimate in a way that made me nervous. 
"Oh, um, I don't know..." I fumbled over my words, suddenly feeling shy. 
Harry tilted his head, giving me a crooked smile. "Come on, it'll be fun. I'll even give you a personal tour of the field afterwards," he joked. 
I bit my lip, considering it. There was no denying I felt drawn to him, despite trying to keep my distance. And the thought of seeing him command the field sent a little thrill through me. 
"Alright, I suppose I could stop by," I finally conceded, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear self-consciously. 
Harry's face lit up. "Brilliant! Our next game is on Friday. I'll leave a ticket for you at will call," he said eagerly.
I nodded, butterflies taking flight in my stomach. "Okay, yeah. I’ll see you then," I replied softly. 
Harry gave me a dazzling smile and I felt my knees go weak.
Friday night arrived and I found myself filled with nervous excitement as I made my way to the football stadium. I couldn't believe I had actually agreed to come watch Harry play. As I approached the ticket booth, I gave my name and they handed me the ticket Harry had left for me. 
I found my seat in the packed bleachers and waited anxiously for the game to start. When the players rushed onto the field, I immediately spotted Harry's mop of curly hair. He looked focused and determined as he took his position on the field. 
As the game began, I was immediately drawn in by Harry's commanding presence on the field. His movements were fluid and precise, each pass and dodge executed with passion and skill. With each successful play, the crowd erupted into thunderous cheers, mirroring my own excitement. It was impossible not to join in, jumping to my feet and cheering for Harry along with everyone else.
At halftime, Harry made his way over to the sidelines, sweat glistening on his forehead and tattooed arms, his chest heaving from exertion. As he scanned the crowd for familiar faces, his eyes locked onto mine and a wide grin spread across his face. He waved enthusiastically, causing my cheeks to flush as I shyly waved back in return. 
In the second half of the game, Harry's presence seemed to radiate even more brightly. With each touchdown he scored, his fists pumped triumphantly in the air. The crowd roared and cheered as he ripped off his helmet and hoisted it victoriously above his head, his teammates swarming around him in celebration.
As the stadium emptied out, I stayed behind with a swarm of butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I couldn't wait to see Harry once again. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he emerged from the locker room, his hair still damp from his post-game shower but his eyes shining with joy.
"So, what did you think?" he asked eagerly as he approached me.
"You were truly spectacular out there," I gushed earnestly. A wide grin stretched across Harry's face.
"Come on, let me give you that promised tour," he said playfully, offering me his arm. Laughing, I happily took it and followed him onto the empty field, my heart racing with excitement and admiration for the amazing athlete by my side.
Harry led me onto the empty stadium field, the night air crisp and cool against our skin. He pointed out spots on the grass where pivotal plays had happened, describing them with a passion that revealed his deep love for the game. 
I found myself enthralled, leaning into him as we walked, his arm solid and warm beneath my hand. When we reached the middle of the field, he turned to face me. His eyes were soft, searching my face in the dim glow of the stadium lights. 
"You know, I was afraid you wouldn't come tonight," he admitted quietly. 
I tilted my head. "Why's that?"
He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "You never seemed to like me much before. I figured I wasn't your type."
Heat rose to my cheeks. He wasn't wrong - I'd unfairly judged him as arrogant and cocky. But tonight had shattered those assumptions. 
"I guess I realized there's more to you than meets the eye," I said softly. 
Harry's smile widened. He lifted his hand, gently tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. My breath caught at his touch. Slowly, he leaned in. I let my eyes fall shut in anticipation...
But suddenly, the stadium lights flickered off, plunging us into darkness. We jumped apart in surprise. 
Harry laughed. "Guess that's our cue to head out." 
He took my hand, interlacing our fingers, and led me towards the parking lot. I walked close beside him, hyper-aware of his palm pressed against mine.
As he towered over me, Harry's eyes scanned the street, searching for a car. "Where did you park?" he asked, his voice deep and smooth.
I shifted nervously on my feet, avoiding eye contact. "Oh. Uh. I didn't drive. I just live around the street," I murmured, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. The thought of navigating English roads was terrifying to me.
A warm chuckle escaped from Harry's lips as he looked back down at me. "I can drive you home, love," he offered, extending a hand towards me. His scent wafted towards me - a mix of cologne and something woodsy - and I couldn't help but feel a flutter in my stomach at his closeness.
As Harry and I walked towards his car, our hands still entwined, I felt a sense of excitement and anticipation build within me. "So, tell me more about this amazing game-winning touchdown," I teased, trying to break the silence that had fallen between us.
Harry laughed softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he glanced at me sideways. "Oh, you mean the one where I body-slammed the other team's runner into oblivion?" He pretended to flex his muscles playfully. "That was pretty epic, if I do say so myself."
I shook my head, feigning disbelief. "You're such a show-off," I said with a grin. "I bet you were the star of the school playground too."
Harry snorted. "Hardly. I was more of a loner growing up. Spent most of my time with my nose buried in books."
"Really?" I raised an eyebrow in surprise. "And here I thought all jocks were brain-dead."
He laughed again, his laughter echoing through the empty streets as we walked towards his car. When we finally reached it, Harry unlocked the door and gestured for me to get inside. As I slid into the passenger seat, I couldn't help but notice how perfectly he filled the driver's seat - broad shoulders tapering down to narrow hips and long legs. The image of him all sweaty and wet from a shower flashed through my mind, making my cheeks heat up again.
"So," Harry began as he started the engine and pulled out onto the road, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, "tell me more about yourself."
I felt myself blush even harder at his directness but decided to play along. "Well," I said slowly, thinking quickly. "I'm a huge bookworm too - Harry Potter is probably my favorite series ever."
Harry chuckled softly as he glanced at me briefly before looking back at the road. "I can see why you fit right in here in England then."
We drove through the quiet streets in companionable silence for a while before Harry spoke up again. "You know, you don't have to act all tough around me," he said quietly, his eyes still on the road as he slowed down at a stoplight.
I turned to face him fully now, surprised by his words. "I wasn't trying to be tough," I said defensively. "I just didn't want you to think that... well, never mind what I didn't want you to think," I muttered under my breath.
Harry's face softened into a gentle smile as he reached out to brush a strand of hair behind my ear once again - a gesture that sent shivers down my spine despite the warmth of the car interior. "It's okay," he murmured soothingly as he took my hand in his once more and squeezed gently before letting go when the light turned green again.
The rest of our drive was filled with more easy conversation punctuated by moments of awkward silence broken only by the sounds of our breathing and occasional traffic noises outside. When we finally pulled up outside my house I found myself hesitating before opening the car door knowing that this was goodbye.
Under the dim glow of the street lamp, I tentatively turned to face Harry. "Thanks for...for tonight," I stammered out, suddenly self-conscious under his intense gaze. 
His emerald eyes twinkled mysteriously as he simply nodded and began unbuckling his seatbelt. His eyes never left mine, setting off a simmering warmth between us that was hard to ignore. 
"I should probably walk you to your door," he said softly, accentuating each word with an inexplicably seductive lilt. My heart pounded in my chest as we exited the car and made our way towards my apartment.
Once at the front door, we stood facing each other in silence, the air around us thick with unspoken words and desires. I felt his strong fingers gently cradle my chin, tilting my face up to meet his gaze. The intensity of this simple touch sent sparks racing down my spine, pooling heat in places I hadn't even known existed.
"Can I come inside?" His voice was barely a whisper but it echoed loudly in my ears.
My mind screamed caution but my body had other plans. “Yes,” I breathed out, unlocking the door and pulling him inside.
Inside, Harry's lips found mine in a searing kiss that left me breathless. His tongue teased against mine, creating a warm and delicious friction that sent shivers down my legs. As he pressed his hips against me, I could feel the unmistakable hardness growing between us. Our hands roamed freely over each other's bodies, exploring new territory and seeking pleasure through every touch.
Harry's fingers made their way to the waistband of my skirt, pulling it down over my hips and letting it fall to the ground. He lifted me up onto the edge of a nearby table, spreading my legs slightly as he stood between them. The feel of his fingers brushing against my inner thigh caused me to gasp and arch my back in anticipation.
Harry pulled back abruptly,“I’m sorry,” He started, “that was really inappropriate.”
As Harry apologized, his eyes were drawn to the hint of my arousal peeking out from between my legs. His hesitation vanished as his fingers brushed against my wetness once more, this time without pulling away. He groaned in approval and leaned forward, pressing his lips against mine once more. I craved him in the worst ways.
Our tongues tangled as he pushed me back onto the table, spreading my legs further apart. His hands found their way under my shirt, skimming over my stomach before lifting it up, exposing my bra-clad breasts. He took a deep breath, inhaling my scent and trailing his fingers lightly across one tight nipple.
"Harry," I moaned, cavinginto his touch. "Please don't stop."
He smirked wickedly down at me before pulling back slightly. In one swift motion, he yanked my shirt over my head, tossing it aside carelessly. Grabbing hold of both sides of my bra, he pulled it down too with such force that my breasts were freed from their confinement.
I gasped at the sudden rush of air hitting my sensitive nipples but before I could catch my breath, he took one of them into his mouth sucking hard while pinching the other between two fingers, teasing it mercilessly.
"Fuck," I whimpered, clawing at the table underneath me as pleasure coursed through me like lightning. The intense mix of pain and pleasure sent waves of desire crashing over me as I felt myself becoming wetter with every passing second.
Sliding one hand down towards his pants, I slowly undid the button and zipper before slipping my hand inside his boxers to grip him firmly around his growing erection. He groaned into my breast at the contact sending shivers down my spine.
"You want me to fuck you?" he whispered hoarsely against my skin leaving a trail of saliva along my collarbone as he ran his tongue upwards caressingly .
"Yes," I breathed out between parted lips unable to form complete words due to the intensity of emotions running through me. 
My heart raced as his erection throbbed in my hand. I could feel the heat radiating off his skin, mixed with the desire that seemed to emanate from him. His other hand slid down my back, over my ass cheeks, and gripped them roughly, pulling me closer against his hardness.
"Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are? You and your little shy good girl act" he growled into my neck, nipping at the skin there softly. With one swift movement, he lifted me up onto the countertop, pushing my legs apart with his hips. His mouth trailed kisses along my jawline, down my throat, and on my breasts. 
I arched my back slightly offering myself to him more fully as he took a hungry mouthful of one of my nipples into his mouth sucking on it hard while pinching the other between his fingers causing a sharp intake of breath from me which made him smile devilishly before moving on to devour the other one.
My body trembled with anticipation as he bit my neck playfully, his rough hands sliding over my hips and ass cheeks before pulling me against him. His cock twitched against my wet core, making me whimper in want. "You like that, don't you?" he growled, his voice low and husky. "You're so fucking beautiful."
"Harry," I moaned, my voice reduced to a desperate whimper as he continued teasing me with his words and touches. "Please..."
The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, along with our ragged breathing and the occasional moan. I could feel myself getting lost in the sensations, my body responding eagerly to his movements. His hands were everywhere, tracing over my curves and gripping me tightly as he pounded into me.
My own hands were roaming his back, digging into his flesh as I tried to hold on to something amidst the overwhelming pleasure that was coursing through me. Every inch of my body felt on fire, and I couldn't get enough.
"Fuck," he grunted, his face contorting with pleasure. "You feel so good."
I whimpered in response, unable to form any coherent words as he continued to move inside me relentlessly. My whole world had narrowed down to this moment – his body against mine, the sound of our bodies coming together in a perfect rhythm.
My mind was blissfully blank as he increased his pace, his thrusts becoming rougher and more urgent. I could feel my climax building up within me, like a fire threatening to consume me whole.
And then it hit me like a tidal wave – intense and all-consuming. My back arched off the counter as I cried out his name, my body trembling with pleasure as every nerve ending exploded with ecstasy.
He followed soon after, letting out a loud groan as he spilled himself inside me. We stayed still for a moment, trying to catch our breaths and bask in the aftermath of our passion.
But eventually reality came crashing back around us. Panic started creeping up inside me as I tried to gather my thoughts and make sense of what had just happened. 
As I lay there, my heart still pounding in my chest, he gently pulled out of me and straightened up. His eyes, dark with desire just moments ago, now softened with a mixture of tenderness and regret.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sound of our heavy breathing. "I shouldn't have let things go this far."
I sat up slowly, feeling a mix of emotions swirling inside me – confusion, guilt, and a lingering sense of pleasure that refused to dissipate. 
"It's not just your fault," I murmured, avoiding his gaze as I tried to gather my clothes around me. "I wanted this too."
He reached out a hand to touch my arm, but hesitated before making contact.
"We should talk about this," he said finally, his tone serious. "About what it means for us."
I nodded slowly, feeling the weight of his words settling between us. What had started as a moment of passion had now morphed into something more complicated, something that demanded attention and discussion.
As we dressed in silence, the air in the room felt charged with unspoken thoughts and emotions. The intensity of our physical connection lingered like a ghost between us, refusing to be ignored.
We began to gather our clothes from around the room, now tainted with the evidence of our reckless choices. Harry buried his face into his shirt before pulling it on, perhaps ruminating on what just occurred, or maybe trying to drown out the reality with the lingering scent of his cologne.
"Y/n," he started after a long silence, pulling his trousers up. His voice sounded strained, an indication that he was struggling with the right choice of words. "I... I didn't mean for this to... I mean, I like spending time with you." He sighed heavily, rubbing his face between his large palms.
I remained silent as I fastened my bra. The finality in his voice was suffocating, making it harder for me to breathe with each passing moment. I felt my heart thumping loudly in my chest – a crude reminder of the complication we had willingly dived into.
"I like you, Y/N," he said finally, his voice a hoarse whisper. The words hung in the air between us, hovering like a dense fog, obscuring any clarity that might lie beyond.
I stopped fumbling with my blouse, my fingers stilled by his confession. "Harry," I began, my voice barely audible. Fear clung to me, making my words tremble.
"I know," he cut me off before I could finish what I started. "I know we're both in different places... Me with football and you with your studies." There was a tingling silence after his statement, as if he was waiting for me to confirm or deny his declaration.
I sighed heavily, tugging at the hem of my blouse, feeling the cool fabric against my still heated skin. "It's not that simple Harry," I admitted, blinking back tears that had started to sting my eyes. "This," I motioned around the room, encompassing our discarded underwear strewn haphazardly around the room - a silent testament to the passion that had just consumed us, "this complicates things."
He ran his hand through his tousled hair and nodded solemnly. "I understand," he replied, a hint of resignation etching lines onto his face. His gaze was heavy with something akin to regret as it met mine.
My breath hitched in my throat at the intensity of his stare. I wanted desperately to reach out and ease the burden that seemed to weigh heavily on him. But reality was an insidious shadow that lurked in our midst, reminding us of the impracticality of our desires.
"I think it's better if we keep our distance for now," Harry broke the silence after what felt like an eternity. His words were like cold water dousing the fire that our bodies had kindled only moments ago.
A feeling of sudden emptiness clawed at me. His words, though probably said in goodwill, felt like a punch to my gut. I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over.
I nodded, unable to bring myself to utter a word. He stepped towards me and for a moment I thought he would pull me into his arms one last time. But he merely extended a hand that I shook lightly, the gesture felt impersonal after the intimacy we had just shared.
Without another word, he turned and left the room. I stood still in the silence that followed, the sound of his departing footsteps echoing in my ears long after he was gone.
Mia came home later that night, oblivious to the charged atmosphere that still lingered, suffocating and heavy in the air. Her chatter about an extra credit assignment she’d completed was a stark contrast to the silence that had enveloped the room just hours ago. 
“Y/N, are you okay?” she asked suddenly, noticing my distant gaze. I gave her a weak smile in response before excusing myself to bed.
As I lay there in the dark, staring at the ceiling, Harry's words echoed through my mind. "I think it's better if we keep our distance for now." His voice was etched into my memory, roughened by regret and something else I couldn't quite place. His face bore an expression that told me this was as hard for him as it was for me.
The next day was a blur. My classes seemed trivial compared to the turmoil swirling in my mind. My interactions with others were mechanical and flat as if I was watching myself from outside my body.
Football practice was going on when I walked past the field on my way back from the campus library. My eyes instinctively sought out Harry among the sea of players. I found him focused on his game, every muscle in his body straining as he kicked the ball towards the goalpost.
His world seemed unchanged—still revolving around football—while mine felt like it had been knocked off its axis.
The following weeks were no easier. Everywhere I went, I could feel his presence like a phantom pain - a dull ache that refused to fade away. In every conversation, every song playing in the background, every corner of campus - Harry was there.
I knew we had made a rational decision, given our circumstances. But my heart couldn't comprehend what my mind had already accepted.
Months passed and winter set in, blanketing Manchester in white. Serene and beautiful yet so melancholy it mirrored my mood perfectly. The once familiar campus looked different under the soft glow of the snow as if to mirror the change that had occurred in my life.
One evening, as I was walking back from the library, I spotted Harry sitting alone on a bench, bundled up in a thick coat, his breath misting in the frigid air. His eyes were trained on the football field, currently blanketed by snow, and his hands were tucked into his pockets, his usual energy replaced by a pensive quietness.
I hesitated, weighing my options. We hadn't spoken since that night – the night when our worlds collided and then abruptly fell apart. But something drew me towards him – an inexplicable magnetism I had been fighting for so long.
Stepping tentatively closer, I cleared my throat to announce my presence. "Harry," I said softly, trying not to startle him.
He looked up at the sound of my voice, surprise flickering across his features before they settled into guarded neutrality. "Y/N," he responded with a curt nod, but made no move to invite me to sit.
Taking a leap of faith, I lowered myself onto the bench next to him, maintaining some distance while also bracing for the icy cold through my jeans. For several minutes we sat in silence, lost in our own thoughts as we stared out at the snowy field.
"I've missed you." The words slipped out before I could stop them.
He turned toward me then, his emerald eyes soft and searching as they met mine. His lips opened as if to say something but closed again as if reconsidering his words.
"Y/N..." His voice trailed off and there was a long pause before he continued. "I’ve missed you too."
Relief washed over me at his confession but it was quickly replaced with a gnawing sadness as I realized that missing each other wasn’t enough to bridge the gap between us. Our realities were still the same - he was still the star football player with ambitions bigger than Manchester itself and I was still an English major trying to carve out a place for myself in academia.
“Do you ever think about…?” I started, swallowing hard as I tried to voice the question that had been eating at me.
“Us?” He completed my sentence, his voice barely above a whisper. His gaze was heavy but he held it steady, openly showing the vulnerability he usually kept hidden beneath his star athlete facade. “All the time.”
The honesty in his confession hit me harder than I expected. We were both stuck in our respective worlds, looking at each other from afar but never truly reaching out.
I took a deep breath, feeling the biting winter air fill my lungs before exhaling slowly. “We can’t keep doing this, Harry,” I said finally, breaking the silence that had fallen between us.
He looked at me then, his gaze filled with understanding and something else I couldn't quite place. “I know,” he replied softly, his eyes never leaving mine.
The future was uncertain and full of challenges. But if there was one thing I had learnt from this whole ordeal, it was that some chances are worth taking. No matter how daunting they may seem.
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putterpen · 5 months
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@vespasoulchanger
Yeeeeah. The other picture. I saw two bears across two entirely different game franchises and went "Lol wouldn't it be funny if they were related?" to nobody but myself. I'm sure Bobby and Freddy are offended by my specism. Then I started to take the silly idea kinda seriously? Then over thought it. I did base Bobby's pizza uniform on the FNAF movie costume.
So yeah Freddy Fazbear is Bobby's dad in my AU. Freddy Bonafazio is his real name. People usually shorten their last name to 'Fazio which eventually turned into Fazbear. Its a local thing.
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I'm being bad and only focusing on one parent (Like Scott Cawthon) Fred is the owner of a humble pizzeria on the island known as Teddy Paw Cay. A successful partnership with Play Co. allowed him to sell their their toys as prizes. He comes from a long line of roboticists and designed his own mascots and animatronics, some of which are even produced at Play Co.
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Bobby loves her dad and she means the world to him. Freddy has dedicated his life to the entertainment and happiness of children as Bobby's love for him and her friends gives him seemingly endless inspiration. But one strange day the magical toy factory in the valley was closed down and abandoned, seemingly overnight.
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Without the toy factory, Freddy struck out to find a new business partner on the mainland. A very laid back raccoon-dog type lad with a hand in many businesses. He's kind of mysterious yet friendly! Although Bobby realizes later on that her father began to change in some ways after their partnership began.
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Unfortunately this partnership meant Bobby had to move away from the island. Alone and without friends, she was immediately smitten with one of Nook's nephews though her feelings were not reciprocated. He eventually warms up to her and her strong cuddly warm bear hugs even if he doesn't want to show it out right.
Note: Tim's comment is from their first meeting and Bobby's first time on the mainland. An attempt to streamline the "canon" Smiling Critters with my AU where everyone wears clothes. So one day in every little critter's life, they wake up and realize: "Hey clothes are cool. I wanna try some on!" Before then, little critters usually scurry around wild and fancy free, even running around on all fours sometimes, basically showing more animal like behavior, in very cute ways. As they grow up they start acting more like "people" and there are shops dedicated to little critters trying on an array of outfits. Discovering themselves and their tastes. Tim thinks he is "all that" and wouldn't be caught dead with no clothes, Bobby just hasn't gotten around to that yet.
Also experimenting with a possible eye style with Bobby.
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penelopepine · 5 months
Text
Don't be a stranger! Pt. 5
Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
Simon "Ghost" Riley x FemReader
Content: Neighbors AU, fluff, developing relationship, slight angst, mentioned past deaths
Upon entering the room Simon sees that Johnny and Gaz are already there talking to one another. Silently walking inside he takes a seat next to the others and places the box in front of them all. 
“What’s this?” Gaz looks from Simon to the box. 
“Cookies, I’ve been told I have to share.” 
“These aren’t poisoned are they? Who are they from?”
"They're from his new lady friend! Ain’t that right Ghost?" Johnny interjects before he could answer. 
It seems Johnny was still hunting for gossip about who it was that sent him a package, “Quiet down, MacTavish.” 
Johnny and Gaz share a laugh between the two of them before both reach out for one of your treats. He had debated actually sharing these with them as he knows they'll be asking for more now. They'll start asking about you, and he won't be able to give them a clear answer; not yet anyway. 
“Tell your lass that these are heavenly Lt.!” Johnny moans out as he takes a bite of one of your cookies. 
The regret of sharing is already rearing its head it seems. He glares at the man and says, "MacTavish." 
It was Gaz who noticed his discomfort right away from the other sergeant's comment. "Come on now, Soap don't antagonize him; Ghost will share what he wants when he's ready." He gives Simon a quick reassuring nod, "but really thank them for us for making these!" 
"Will do." 
It was at that moment when Price finally stepped inside the room as well, "Good evening lads, what's the reason for this?" He points at the box of treats in front of them with a questioning look on his face. 
Johnny clearly goes to answer the question before Gaz hits him on the chest with a pointed look. He then looks towards him, clearly leaving Simon to answer with whatever he felt comfortable admitting about you. "A friend." 
Price seemed shocked for a moment that he had even said that much, "Ah a friend; well you'll have to introduce sometime." 
"Hmm." 
Later he tells himself; later he would introduce you to the team. Once the two of you have spent more time together, maybe once the two of you were together. 
Price claps his hands together once as he makes his way towards the front, “Now, let’s get started shall we!" The projector is turned on and the picture of a man appears on the screen.  "This here is the man we're hunting for, and Laswell estimates this will be a 2 week op. So prepare yourselves for that lads."
-
It was the next day when Simon tried to call you. He hoped with each ring that you would pick up, he didn't want to leave you with a voice message before disappearing from you. Hearing your voice one last time before leaving would also ease his mind while away. 
Just as he was about to give up and started to mentally prepare what he was going to say to you. 
"Hey Simon! Everything ok, you're calling me a lot earlier than you normally would?" You sound worried, which is exactly the opposite of what he wants right now. 
"Love, everything is alright. Just letting you know that I'm not going to be available for a few weeks." 
It's quiet for a few seconds before you respond, "When are you getting sent out?"
"Tomorrow morning."
"You'll be safe won't you?"
"I'll do my best." Simon would do anything for you; all you needed to do was ask, "and I'll always have a piece of you to remind me to do that." He smiles down at the bracelet, and lightly fidgets with the heart charm.
You give a soft laugh over the phone, "You'll have to make me one next time you’re here. That way I'll have a piece of you too." 
He promises to himself that he'll do that for you. As soon as this op is finished he's going to talk to Price about going on leave again. The man already has an idea of what is going on so hopefully he won't question him too much. Considering every other time he was practically dragged off base and forced to go on leave. 
"I will, love. I'll also see how soon I can visit again after I get back to base." 
"Just let me know when and I'll be there to walk you home from the car!" 
The two of you continue to talk for a few more minutes before saying your goodbyes to one another. He can't wait to finish this op and get home to you. 
-
The last two weeks have been absolute hell, but it was all hopefully going to come to an end in just a few hours. All there was to do now was wait; which led him to laying down right next to Johnny as they watched the warehouse. 
“I spy with my little eye something…blue.” Johnny whispers next to him. This has been going on for 10 mins now and he was debating with himself if killing the sergeant would be worth it. 
“Johnny.” 
“Wrong, guess again.” 
Killing him is becoming more and more worth it, “Hush.” 
“You’re no fun Lt.” Johnny pouted before changing into a gin, “How’s Beads doing by the way?” 
“Beads?” 
Johnny points to where the bracelet usually sits on his wrist, “Beads, your lass!” 
Simon had almost forgotten that he had seen the bracelet while he was moving it to a more secured pocket on his vest. “If I tell you, will you stop being so annoying about this?”
“Cross my heart!” 
"Beads," He doesn't necessarily like the nickname, but he doesn't feel comfortable saying your name right now, "Is doing good. She loved the rock you tripped over." 
"You fucking sent her that rock?"
"It's displayed in her living room and everything." 
When Johnny doesn't immediately respond he looks towards him only to see a soft look gracing his face. "You really like this lass don't you?"  
That is what scared him, because he did care about you. He tried to fight it at first; the two of you were never meant to interact after he helped you in your flat. Then the daily morning walks to your work started right after, and he couldn't avoid you after that. “I might.” 
"That's a love confession coming from you." 
"Maybe it is." He whispers to himself, but based on Johnny's shocked face he probably heard as well. 
"Ghost-" 
“Target spotted; get ready to move in.” Price's voice comes over the comms interrupting whatever Johnny was going to say.
The topic is immediately dropped after that, and two of them focus on the task once more.
-
When the plane finally landed back on base Simon made a beeline to his locker to get his phone. Admittedly the talk with Johnny did help him sort out some of his feelings that he had for you. Simon was going to try and get a hard read on you when he goes on leave again; try and see if you were also wanting to take the friendship to the next level. 
Turning on his phone he sees that he has a few texts and a voicemail message from you. Reading the text first; there are simple updates about your work and random thoughts you’ve had throughout the day. It was the voicemail that made Simon’s blood go cold. 
“Hey Simon,” you sound nervous, that's the first thing he picks up on, “Can you give me a call when you get this. A couple of Russian guys came by today asking about you. I don’t want to worry you, but they were asking a lot of strange questions. Stuff about where you were, and when you would be getting back. It’s probably nothing, but I just felt like I should tell you. I’ll talk to you later…Bye.” 
Panic was the only thing going through Simon right now. Quickly checking he sees that the voice message was from a few days ago. 
“Fuck!” For all he knew you could be dead right now. He couldn’t go home just to see another person he cared about dead on the floor again. 
He calls you; each unanswered ring is just another nail in your coffin. 
“Hello.” 
Taglist: @nexthyperfix @yourdaydreamerfan @tf141gloryhole @just-pure-trash @definitelynotaclown
@arminarlertssword @openup-yourmind
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queers-gambit · 7 months
Text
Midsummer Night(mare)'s Dream
prompt: ( requested ) when Oliver's obsession reaches new heights, you fear Felix might return the affection - resulting in bloody flower petals suffocating you.
pairing: Felix Catton x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Saltburn
word count: 12.9k+
note: favorite trope here to stay
⚠️ you are responsible for the media you consume ⚠️
warnings: Hanahaki Disease AU: depiction of physical illness, medical phenomenon, blood, self-destruction; alcohol consumption, brief illicit material use and brief depiction of physical aggression, Lord's name in vain, cursing, angst, hurt and comfort, spoilers, AU timeline (obviously), "friends to 'strangers' to lovers", fix it Felix, "best friends" trope too, dead parents / family angst. requires maturity and caution.
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When the first semester at Oxford started, something in your gut twisted with an unknown anxiety. Something in the air churned, a tide was turning, and there was something deeply amiss that you just couldn't put your finger on.
Your roommate was kind, your grades average with those that took education seriously, and your professors were decently challenging but in a good way. You didn't know what was wrong, why you suddenly felt anxious, but then, after asking your best mate why he was late to class the day of his first tutorial, Felix answered, "Had a flat tire."
You nodded, handing him the joint as you sucked in a sharp breath to hold the smoke in your lungs, "So you booked it?"
"No, actually," he chuckled. "Nice bloke named Ollie stopped t'help, offered me his bike."
You laughed, smoke billowing out, "Yeah? Tellin' me he just stopped and gave you his bike? Come off it - nobody's that nice. You flirt with him or something, Fi?"
"No, no, I'm serious! That's literally what happened!" He nestled his arm around your waist, "No, seriously, listen, right, I was on my way t'class, on time and all, yeah? Got a flat tire on my way. This lad, Ollie - Oliver - comes down the path, stops, asks what's goin' on, said he was in my college, so, he offered his bike 'cause he'd get it later, said he'd wheel mine back and all."
"Fuck off!" You shoved your elbow into his ribs.
"You only think people are out to do the worst, darling," Felix chuckled, flashing you a blinding smile. Neither of you could anticipate the series of events that this interaction would kick off. "Besides, he saved my fuckin' arse, I got t'class with enough time, didn't I?"
"Hmm," you agreed, a knot forming in your stomach as he handed you the joint back; both stretched out in your dorm bed as the thunder storm raged just shortly after you got back from class.
Perhaps you were too much of a cynic. Perhaps you grew up in a rougher part of the city with considerably less money, being skeptical of gestures of kindness. Perhaps you only knew people to be disingenuous.
Maybe you were just used to hearing these incredible stories from Felix Catton - certified spoilt best friend.
You grew up together; meeting as young children because your parents worked for one of the Catton's companies, your fathers having been childhood best friends, joining you two at the hip. You and Felix were two halves of one whole, a single functioning organism; becoming inseparable. You were meant to be soulmates, you were so sure of it, but in reality, it felt reassuring to have such a strong friendship that you never entertained the idea of romance.
Felix's friendship was genuine. It was built-on everyday, growing, evolving, forever changing to accommodate both your changing personalities. He accepted you for who you are, and it felt like he chose you everyday. Where others came and went, you remained. Where others abandoned you, there he was. There was no you without Felix and no Felix without you, and when the time came, you chose to attend Oxford together.
You knew how easy life was for him. You knew the silver spoon he was fed from. You knew he was the flame moths were drawn to.
Knowing Felix Catton was power-by-association, and you watched an endless slew of people come and go with the snuffed-out dream of being in his inner circle. You protected Felix (and the Cattons) from leeches and Felix protected you from, well, everything else. You were meant to be soulmates, you were so sure of it, and then everything changed the summer before senior year of secondary school when you moved in with him permanently.
Summer had just started, you were only two months away from turning 18, and then, a drunk driver drove your mother and father into a tree on the side of a road. There was nothing to be done when your parents were finally found, the EMTs assuring you they were dead on impact and did not suffer. You had been at home with Felix, who let you paint his toenails, the house phone ringing shrilly.
"Hello?" He answered for you, reporting your family's surname's residence. He hummed, then paused, looking at you. "It's St. Luke's Hospital, love?" Felix handed you the phone with curiosity.
When you reached for the landline, the nurse reported you were needed and asked if you had the means to get to them. You begged to know what happened, but all she said was, "There was an accident."
Felix drove you to the hospital.
Felix held your hand when you were lead to a private room, meeting a set of police officers.
Felix held you when you stumbled in shock upon being shown your parent's demise and Felix held your hair when you threw up after identifying bodies.
And the Cattons stood with you when the man responsible was sentenced to life in prison. They stood in the rain when you tossed two stones in the stream.
You lived with him from that moment on and sometime after, you accepted how in-love with him you were. He had always taken care of you, but that summer, he took care of you; being the glue that kept you together, the binding force that brought you into being, the reason you didn't waste away, give up, or lose yourself entirely.
When your final year before university began, you had to stomach the idea of loving him at a distance. He'd always been popular, charismatic, the sun at the center of everyone's galaxy that pulled all towards his warmth and light. But after losing his virginity at age 15, Felix was constantly running through partners and you didn't want to interrupt his "sexual awakening" despite the knife to the gut each girl stabbed. So, you kept your feelings to yourself and tried your hardest to be a staple in his life, and when you chose to attend Oxford, you made peace with the idea that you'd go another 4 years in silent denial.
Something about Oliver's little act of kindness just made you uneasy.
And then, the following night, Felix spotted his new little friend when you were out at the local pub and invited Ollie to sit at the table with you lot. You sat between Felix and Farleigh, India on your friend's other side - his cousin something akin to your own flesh and blood. After all, you had known them all for two nearly decades; marking you as one of the very, very few who could put Farleigh in his place. Eerily, you both shared a look of mild distain, but for very different reasons.
You didn't think yourself a jealous woman, but after meeting Oliver Quick in person, hearing him speak, watching him watch Felix, and witnessing how he interacted with everyone else, you grew uneasy in his presence. The night you met him officially, there was a funny tickle in your chest, and after a few too many coughs escaped, Felix whipped around at you instantly. "You gettin' sick, darlin'?" He asked, words drenched in genuine concern.
Oliver thought it was curious to use a pet name for a pretty girl while a different one was sat on his lap.
"I'm good," you assured, thinking the rain caused this reaction.
But as the night wore on, you coughed more and more. When Oliver got up to get the next round of shots, Felix, ever the sweetheart who had money at his disposal, scolded Farleigh for instigating the poor boy and stood with a note in his hand. Only you saw the real interaction of Felix subtly paying for the drinks, and when he returned, he set a glass of water in front of you.
He made sure you didn't drink the rest of the night, but you didn't want to - starting to feel unwell. "Fi, I'm gonna go - "
"Oh, no, love, c'mon, an hour longer," he pleaded as you stood. But he paused, examined your face, then standing without another word and tossed his arm around you, announcing to the table, "Right, we're off."
He ignored the jeers and complaints because he was swiftly escorting you away, and only when Farleigh clocked this did he scold the table to shut the fuck up. When you stepped outside, Felix was turning to you instantly, holding your cheeks in hand and using his thumb to wipe at the corner of your mouth.
"You're bleedin', love," he muttered, showing you his hand. You frowned and wiped the area yourself, seeing the crimson stain on the pads of your fingers. "Fuck. All right. C'mon, we can get you to the infirmary - "
"No, I don't think it's - "
"You've been coughin' all night and now you're bleedin'," he snapped, shushing you, "we're goin'!" When you just stared at him for a moment, he sighed, "I-I'm sorry, that was a bit more aggressive than needed. I'm just worried, love, you shouldn't be coughing blood."
"Might've just been smoking too much, yeah?"
Felix spoke your name with a hardened edge, staring at you for a long moment as neither of you wanted to back down. Finally, he cracked, "You're not gonna go, are you?"
"Nope. C'mon, I'm tired."
"Well, I'm stayin' the night incase you throw up," he declared, giving in and leading you towards your dorm.
"No, go back - "
"Not leavin' yah, love," he refused. "So, c'mon, tell me," he changed the subject, "what'd you think of Ollie?"
You sighed, "Nice enough lad, I guess."
"Told you," he grinned, weighing your heart to your feet.
For nearly every instance there after, you dreaded hearing Ollie's name or seeing him pop up at events. But that first night, as Felix dozed off in your bed, you were set on your knees, dry heaving in vain to free your throat from whatever suffocated you internally. When you managed to trigger your gag reflex, a stream of alcohol came spewing out - dotted with long, pretty, bright yellow petals.
You stared into the toilet, blinking in shock.
You always thought Felix was the human equivalent to a golden retriever with the disposition of a sunflower. In fact, there grew a small patch of sunflowers at Saltburn just for you; you and Felix planting them one summer together, kept alive after your parents died to bring you a little sunshine when you felt overwhelmed with storm clouds. After all, they were your favorite flower... Now being hacked out of your lungs in a ghastly, tacky mixture of blood, clots, and mucus.
As the year went, you didn't have another episode, but still did any and all research you could on your current phenomenon, wanting to avoid the hospital if you could.
The year flew by without much of a hitch, outside of Felix snapping on Ollie and distancing the lad from the group. However, just before exams, Felix came to you in need of help; saying Ollie's dad died, and being as he had both parents, he wasn't sure how to comfort the lad. It struck a nerve deep within you, going with Felix to talk to Ollie, and by the end, your arm had slung around the scholarship boy in pity, trying to talk him through part of his grief.
You didn't know the lad did his research on you and discovered you lived with Felix in his grand fucking castle because you were orphaned just before turning 18. It was the perfect "in", in Ollie's mind; a way to weasel close to you, solidifying himself to Felix.
You didn't like Ollie, he still made you feel uneasy, but you did pity him enough that you tolerated him. Now more than ever. He was back in the group before the day was done.
However, when exams concluded, Ollie was acutely aware that Felix attended the celebration to your exams - dressing you, pinning you for your accomplishments. You dressed and pinned Felix after his. And you both showed up for Ollie's exams, though, you dressed and pinned Farleigh as Felix did Ollie. He supposed it counted, still having the object of his desire back in sight; within his reach; staring at him with pride and a hint of pity.
It was exactly what Oliver wanted.
"Well, aren't you gorgeous?" Felix complimented when you arrived in the courtyard, dressing for the end-of-year ball. He stooped down to wrap you in a hug, giving a spin, and setting you on your feet as you laughed at his usual antics. "Absolutely a vision, love, seriously," he praised. "And I have a li'l something for us, hey?" He held up the champagne bottle.
"Christ," you mused, "what's the occasion? They'll supply cocktails there, Fi - "
"We're going to a funeral."
"I'm sorry?"
He sighed, handing you the bottle to dig in his trouser pocket and revealed a stone painted with the word, 'Dad'. Felix looked sheepish, "I thought we could do it for Ollie, yeah? Lad's had a real rough go of it all - "
"I think that's a nice idea, Fi," you cut him off, smiling in assurance, opening the wire on the bottle. "But first, a toast," you proposed, "to the start of summer."
"And end of exams," he agreed, taking the bottle back when you handed it over and popping the cork. He cheered as you drank first, taking his own, wrapping you in a tight hug. "We survived," he laughed, sighing after. "Really glad you were here with me through it, love."
"Yeah, me, too," you whispered, holding back creeping bile when your heart began to pound with harrowing tension. "All right, pretty boy, c'mon, sun's setting."
"Right," he pulled back, "I told Ollie to meet us in the courtyard."
"Which one?"
"C'mon," he laughed, taking your hand and leading you after him. You danced after him on your tip-toes, avoiding using your whole shoe and the high heel that elevated you off the ground several inches. "Easy, watch it, careful now," he teased.
"Hey," Farleigh greeted, watching you two go with a smile.
He bet Venetia that this was the summer you two got together. Felix had confided in him that he was considering the idea of settling down, having sowed his wild oats and being tired of running through girls like he had this past year. Farleigh never thought he'd hear such words from Felix Catton, but after seeing you and his cousin running off, he knew, it was only a matter of time before confessions were made.
"There he is," You pointed.
"Ollie!" Felix called, both of you jogging up to him. "Hiya, mate."
"Hey," He greeted you both as Felix didn't stop.
"C'mon, then! Follow us!"
Upon arriving at a stone bridge that passed over a thin stream, you let Felix explain what you were doing and why you were there. "So, in my family, we have this tradition, right? When somebody dies, we write their name on a, er, on a stone," he showed Ollie the stone he made, "and we chuck it in the river. My great-grandfather started it when his son died in the war. We've only done it for Y/N's parents and my dog so far, but... You know, I don't know, I just..."
"It helped, a bit," you filled in when Felix looked at you. You took the stone from Fi's hand and handed it to Ollie, offering, "Felt like our own private goodbye."
When Oliver took the stone and looked it over, Felix anxiously excused, "This feels a bit fucking stupid now."
"No. It's not stupid," Ollie insisted sincerely - only looking at Felix, like the whole world did. "Thank you."
"It's something, right?"
This lead into Felix explaining "what to do", Ollie taking a moment after. When he looked over, he saw Felix had positioned you in front of him, arms wrapped around your neck to keep you close, both screwing your eyes shut in prayer. It would've been endearing had this been an honest memorial...
When the stone was throw, it clattering into the mud on the embankment... A foreshadow you should've paid more attention to. This lead into you three sitting on the stone bannister, skipping the ball, sharing the champagne, and after learning about Ollie's poor living arrangements, for Felix to invite him home with you two. To Saltburn, setting in motion a series of unfortunate events.
That night, you stayed in Felix's dorm, asking, "Are you sure about this?"
"Hmm?"
"Ollie - coming home with us?"
"Oh, yeah, love, it'll be fine," he promised. "Gives us one more person in the house, that's never bad, is it?"
You couldn't answer, you didn't know.
Your first night home was memorable in the sense that Venetia, Felix's older sister, insisted on 'girls night' and locked you both in her room. "So? Did you tell him yet?" She rushed with an excited grin, pouring you both a glass of wine. "Farleigh and I have a bet goin' - "
"Tell who, what?"
She glared, "Don't play coy. You're in love with Felix!"
"Venetia!"
"Oh, shove off, I won't tell him - but does that mean you haven't either?"
"If I did, you honestly think I'd be here?"
"Well, yes - "
"He doesn't feel the same," you insisted, "and if I tell him, he wouldn't want me here anymore, it'd be awkward."
"You're absolutely insane if you think any of that is true!"
"Ven."
"He's mad for you."
"He say that?"
"Well, no, but I can tell."
"It's not gonna happen," you sighed, shaking your head. "Not with all his interests, and those interested in him," you explained bitterly.
"I think you should tell him," she nodded. "It wouldn't hurt to tell the truth, but it might give you both some relief. I promise, he doesn't want you out of his life, so, even by the off chance he doesn't feel the same, he'd still want you around. Oh, know what would be romantic? Writing him a note! You've always been a talented writer."
By the end of the bottle, you and Venetia had started drafting a letter; confessing your feelings and coming up with the grand idea to ask him to meet you in the maze if he felt the same. It was where you both went when wanting solidarity, being a place of worship for you both. The center of the maze was remote, private, being where your tears could be shed and secrets shared.
It felt fitting to meet there.
Your letter wasn't perfected to your standards until Ollie arrived. His first night, you began to feel that tickle in your chest again, and for some reason, you mistook this for 'butterflies' and decided tonight was the night. So, you snuck into Felix's room before dinner, knowing he was already out, and left your note on his bed; unaware that Oliver was watching through the crack in the bathroom door.
He slithered in when you were done, slowly approaching the bed, and fingering the letter. He plucked it in hand, opened the unsealed envelope, and read your confessional; requesting, that if he even had an inkling of returned affection, he'd meet you after dinner, in the maze. At the center, beneath the Minotaur statue.
Ollie stared at your flourish of a signature and instantly crumpled the letter, surging back into his room and shredding it into bits. He swept them away into the waste bin and adjusted his jacket.
"There you are!" Felix smiled, finding you in the hall. "Don't you look nice, darlin'."
"You always say that."
"I always mean it," he grinned, escorting you to the dining room.
Dinner was... Interesting, to say the least.
You were distracted by nerves only Oliver clocked, Venetia giggling and Felix the center of attention - as usual. He reached out a few times to grab your thigh, asking muttered questions in your ear, making sure you were all right after he noticed you had barely eaten. Oliver had to hide his amusement as you just seemed anxious, and when dinner was ended, he watched you scurry from the room as if the Devil was at your heels.
"Oh, is my darling girl all right?" Elspeth asked in concern.
"She had a lot of wine," Farleigh smirked.
"Ah, yes," Mrs. Catton waved off, and Felix stood from the table shortly after.
Oliver stalked by the windows that evening, catching sight of you, still in your evening gown, cutting through the mist to head into the maze. He smirked, hearing Felix in his room - but then catching sight of Venetia through a different window. A different part of his plan roared to life that night; meeting the sultry sister under the moon, both knowing you were waiting in the dark for Felix.
You paced in the cold. Your dress drug through the grass, bare feet tickled.
The hour drug by slowly. You lit another cigarette, watching the mouth of the maze.
The second hour rushed by. Your stomach knotted.
Three, four hours ticked by. And you were left standing alone, in the middle of the maze, coughing and wheezing.
You dropped to your knees when your ailment turned physically violent; fingernails digging into the mud as you choked and heaved, trying in vain to clear your throat. When you stuck your fingers down your throat, you threw up bile, dirt, acid, wine, and long, bright yellow sunflower petals - sobs soon wracking your entire being.
He didn't come... He didn't come. He didn't come.
You threw up twice more, blood staining your chest and dress; teeth outlined in red, the dewy taste of pollen left on your tongue. You sobbed until your head hurt, and sobbed some more; confusion and heartache taking over. When you managed to find your feet, you felt lighter, thinner, smaller, less of yourself than you have ever before.
A piece of you had officially cracked away, being spewed into the mud and grass at the base of the Minotaur statue.
When venturing back to your room, you gasped when you nearly smacked into Duncan. You stared at one another in mild shock, his eyes taking in your state and you quietly begged, "Please... Don't say anything to Sir and Mrs. Catton. I don't want them t'worry until I know what's wrong. I-I'm going to the doctors, Duncan, please, give me time to figure this out."
He nodded sadly, shocked by the blood left behind. The following morning, he didn't wake you... He let you sleep, demanding you be left alone to the waitstaff. When Elspeth questioned your absence at breakfast as Ollie entered the dining room, Duncan was heard, "Miss L/N was up early this morning, went for a run. She went back to bed, said she didn't sleep well."
"Oh, the poor darling," Sir James Catton tutted.
"Morning," Ollie greeted, careful not to let his excitement show over your empty chair beside Felix. Venetia was staring at her brother in near anger, confusing him, but distracted instantly by Oliver's arrival. Sir James greeted him first, Venetia followed, and Felix invited the lad to help himself to a meal.
You had sobbed the whole night, puking bits of blood as the flower petals tightened your windpipe; the tackiness making them stick like glue. You didn't know what to do - there was no way you could face the Cattons now, not after Felix surely told them that you would leave Saltburn (for good) soon.
But sometime after breakfast, there was a knock at your door.
"Come in," you bid quietly, debating if you should start packing or not. When Felix entered, he was holding a bouquet of sunflowers, smiling softly.
"All right, love?"
"What?"
He chuckled, "I'm asking if you're all right, we missed you at breakfast."
You just blinked stupidly, "Uh, y-yeah, guess I am."
"Good," he chirped, approaching you and handing over the flowers. "Got these for you, thought maybe you could use a bit cheering up?"
"Why would I...? Felix, is there - is there anything you want to say to me?"
"Uh, no? Not really, I mean, I was gonna see if you fancied coming with us to the field?"
You stared at him in confusion. "You... Don't want me to go?"
"Go? Go where?" He laughed, "Cause yes, I'd like you to go with us... To the field? I just asked you - you sure you're feeling all right?"
"Um, y-yeah," you swallowed thickly, petals peeling back down your throat. "Thank you, for these," you accepted the flowers.
"Figured, with your parent's anniversary comin' up, should keep you close, you know?"
You shook your head, "Wasn't even on my mind, Fi..."
"And I just put it there, Christ, Felix, fantastic job," he cursed himself, hand through his hair in stress. "I'm sorry, love, I didn't mean - "
"You didn't, it's fine - I-I mean, I'm fine," you assured, trying to stave off tears. "Actually, Fi, I'm feeling a bit tired, think I'll nap."
"Duncan said you were?"
"No, no, I didn't get back t'sleep," you nearly whispered, needing to clear your throat again. "You lot have fun, I'll find you later."
"Sure? 'S Ollie's first time," he taunted. "Don't wanna miss that, do yah, love? And we're reading The Half-Blood Prince together, can't miss that."
"I'll catch up tonight, promise," you nodded, "just tell me what chapter you get through."
Felix stared at you, reaching to pinch your jaw and pet his thumb down your cheek. He whispered, "Sure you're all right?"
You nodded, shaking off his touch, hating how easy it was to fall in love with him. "Just tired, pretty boy. Promise."
"All right, well... Find us later, yeah?"
"'Course."
But you didn't leave your room for three days, unable to control the vomiting spells, the blood, the pain, the petals... The gutwrenching heartache. Venetia checked on you damn near every other hour, sitting, resting your head in her lap, stroking your locks in comfort as you sobbed.
"Tell me what's happening?" She begged, unable to get it out of you yet. But you felt another wave, jumping from her embrace to rush into the restroom; sliding on your bruised knees in front of the toilet. She followed, and like her brother's done many times, gathered your hair to hold back. "Jesus fucking Christ!" She gaped, seeing the blood and long, bright yellow petals. "Are those - what the fuck is that!?"
You heaved greatly, throat shredding as blooms and stubby stems cut up your esophagus. When you stared at the devastatingly beautiful blooms coated in your blood, floating atop of the water, you looked up at your friend and confessed, "I'm in love with your brother."
"I know, babe - "
"And he doesn't feel the same," you sobbed; breaking down, panting for breath, Venetia dropping to your level to pull you into her chest. "I-I-I left him the letter, Ven, I-I-I asked him to meet me..."
"He didn't show?"
"I waited hours!" You wailed, finally breaking down after the past couple of years caught up to you. "He never came! An-And then, he shows up with flowers - with fucking sunflowers! - acting as if he never saw my letter! Acting as if he didn't know! Like - Like it's easier to ignore than confront!"
"Oh, sweet girl," she whispered, gently rocking you both as you couldn't catch your breath.
Neither of you attended dinner that evening. Felix showed up again, like he had everyday, asking if you were hungry while holding a plate of toast and mug of tea. But you had passed out in Venetia's arms, the fake blonde waving her brother away, doing her best not to snap at him - remembering she made you a promise that she wouldn't interfere. You feared if she got involved, you really would be asked to leave Saltburn and you had nowhere else to go.
The following morning, you were up before Venetia.
"Hey," she grunted, stretching in your bed after spending the night. "You all right? What're you doing?"
"Goin' for a run," you answered, lacing your trainers.
"How do you feel?"
"Well," you sighed, "pretty fucking foolish, but it's summer. Yeah? Best not to dwell on what I can't have..."
"But it's killing you, love," she sat up.
"I'll get over it," you assured, not believing yourself. "If he can act as if nothing's happened, so can I. Do me a favor, though, love?"
"Anything."
"Sit between us?"
She frowned, watching you head out of the room. When she peered from the window, she saw you setting off around the ground and flopped back into bed for another hour.
"Oh, there you are!" Elspeth gasped when you entered the dining room that morning - jetting out of her chair. "Oh, darling, are you all right? Gave us a fright - thought you were sick or something!"
"Just a wee stomach bug, I promise," you accepted her embrace.
"I'm glad you've joined us," she whispered. "Felix has been dreadfully annoying."
"I can hear you, Mum," Felix groaned when you two pulled back. "Ven, hop down one," He told his sister.
"No, no, stay put, love, I can sit here," you assured the siblings, taking the seat on the other side of the sister.
Felix frowned instantly. "Don't think I've ever seen you two sit apart all these years," Sir James teased, reaching to pat your hand. "Good to have you join us, darling."
"Thank you," you whispered, Duncan placing a plate before you.
"How come she's served?" Ollie wondered without thinking.
"Miss Y/N has been unwell," Duncan replied stiffly.
"Oh, tell the truth, Duncan," you smirked, "I'm just your favorite."
It spurred the family on, Farleigh offering you a look of confusion from across the table. You waved him off, not once looking to your left at Felix - only ever answering Venetia by looking directly at her, avoiding her brother.
Felix felt something in his gut shift as you avoided him more and more. Venetia all but moved into your room, or you into hers - not wanting you alone in this time of duress. Meaning, each time Felix tried to get you alone for questioning, his sister was driving him away. When hanging out as a group, you no longer were at Felix's side, but opted for Venetia and Farleigh's.
It left a gaping hole for Ollie to fill - happily.
"Did I do something, you think?" He asked Oliver one day, floating in the lake, watching you braid Ven's hair as she read from her copy of The Half-Blood Prince.
"No, just maybe," Ollie shrugged, "it's, I don't know, girl stuff?"
"I'm her best mate, she never avoids me like this," Felix frowned. Oliver hated how genuinely hurt Felix sounded. "Seriously, what did I do?"
"I couldn't say, mate. Maybe just let her cool off, come to you when ready," he advised, watching Felix nod sadly and stare at you from behind his sunnies. He craved Felix's attention that you so effortlessly warranted.
You didn't sit with Felix during movie nights anymore, opting for the furthest seat on the floor at Sir James' feet. You didn't spend the night in his room once, nor let him into yours. You weren't on his tennis team. You didn't share sunbeds.
You no longer met for midnight swims, something that made Felix explicitly sad. He waited with his feet in the water, but this time, you were the one who never showed up.
You didn't sit with him at meals, making his family acutely suspicious. Yet neither of you seemed at odds - so, what were the truly worried over? You acted as if there wasn't a thing wrong, but they all noticed the sickly state you took on.
You thinned out, you barely ate a fourth of your meals, you went on runs as often as you could - even in the sweltering heat. You barely slept, creating bags under your eyes, dull, lifeless hair, and a concerning docile attitude. It was as if you were haunting the castle, barely visible, making yourself into a shell of who you once were.
You simply weren't yourself and the Cattons had no idea how to help. Elspeth sent tea to your room. Sir James let you pick movies for family movie nights, but you never seemed interested. Farleigh tried to engage you on the daily, but nothing seemed to register. Even Oliver put on a show by approaching you at the lake, sitting beside you, trying to strike a conversation.
"Sorry, Ollie, I was about t'go for a run," you eased.
"Been goin' on a lot of those. Want company?"
"No," you refused.
"Sure it's a good idea?" He asked. "Been throwing up a lot, might make it worse."
This made you freeze from where you had stood, slowly turning to look down at him. "Excuse me?" You seethed. "You spying on me?"
"I can hear yah sometimes," he nodded. "You're hiding it from the others, aren't yah? The blood, the tears... The way you're wasting away?"
From a short distance, Felix recognized the angry look and body language you wore. Slowly lowering yourself, you hissed to Ollie, "You keep your fucking mouth shut or I'll make sure you're on the first train back to fucking nowhere tomorrow morning. Hear me? You don't know shit about a Goddamn thing, you don't fucking know me, and if you're smart, you'll shut the fuck up, Oliver."
He watched you with a small smirk; standing over him before vacating the lake's shore.
That night, Oliver heard moaning from the adjoining bathroom. Upon his 'investigation', he spied Felix in the clawed-foot bathtub; steam wafting from the water, sweat beading down his skin, and bicep pumping vigorously as he pleasured himself. But what infuriated Oliver was the subtle, nearly slurred and unintelligible moan of your name from Felix's mouth. It seems, despite his best effort to drive a wedge between you two, there was lingering emotion that neither knew what to do with.
You were withering away, and Felix was self pleasuring to you.
Oliver had to up the ante, but how? You avoided the Cattons on a rotating basis - not letting any of them too close to figure out you were devastatingly ill, except Venetia. And the sister wasn't about to spill this darkening secret of yours, she was loyal to a fault.
Only Oliver seemed to know this dark little tale, figuring Felix hadn't even admitted his feelings for you to himself. Perhaps why he found relief in the tub, releasing into the water with a tear falling from his eye over the idea that you no longer wanted to sustain a friendship. It was all terribly confusing for the summer residents at Saltburn. And yet, in an effort to feel closer to Felix than you ever had, Oliver climbed into the draining bathtub and slurped Felix's cum as if it were water from The Holy Grail.
It made him feel superior. It made him feel as if he were winning an endless race. Made him feel like he was validated in pushing you out in favor of himself - no matter the history between you and the Cattons. Made him feel like he was solidifying himself amongst the distant royalty and you were giving reason to be thrown out of Saltburn.
But he would underestimate the power of family.
He got a little too cocky the night he met Venetia outside, in the moonlight, with Farleigh watching from his window.
The following morning, there was a pounding at your door - a rare night Ven didn't sleep with you. When you opened the door, Felix came pushing in, looking purely distraught.
"Look, I know you're pissed at me for whatever reason - but I fucking need to talk to you, okay? Please - I-I feel like I'm about to lose my mind, Y/N, love, please - "
"What's happened?" You asked, shutting the door. "I was about to head out - "
"Please, love! Please!"
"Christ Almighty, all right, the fuck's goin' on with you? Hey? Looks like you're gonna give yourself a stroke," you approached him, caressing his bicep. "What happened?"
"He kissed her."
"Come again?"
"Fucking Ollie - Oliver! He fucking kissed Venetia!"
"When?"
"Last night, Farleigh saw them."
"Oh, love, c'mon, you know Farleigh doesn't like Ollie."
"So, he's lying? You think he's lying?"
"I didn't say that, but you're all worked up. C'mon, just breathe for a minute, gonna pass out from the way you're huffin' and puffin'."
"Please, be serious! This is serious!"
"I know it is, I'm just trying to be rational."
"So, Farleigh's lying."
"Well, I don't think so - kinda a huge lie t'tell, innit?"
"I thought so," he snapped, hand through his hair in anxiety. "I-I mean, how could he? How could Ollie do this - I-I mean, my sister? My fucking sister?"
"Love, if you're this worked up, just go talk to him," you tried. "Ask Ollie point-blank what happened."
"Would you ask Venetia?"
"No, darling, that's not how this works."
"Well, how will we know who's lying? Farleigh or Ollie?"
"I don't know - is this even something to lie about? What did Farleigh say?"
"He saw them - tonguing - practically eating each other!"
You sighed, "Love? You're not gonna want t'hear this."
"God, what?"
"Venetia's a big girl, she can tongue and eat who she pleases."
"It's bad form, though, innit? I mean - he's my friend, my guest, here under my invitation, and he gets with my sister?"
You shrugged slightly, "I don't know, Fi, but she's allowed to do as she pleases; Ollie, too. It's not like either are dating someone, hey? What? You jealous? Of your sister?"
"Fuck off with that, know that's not it," he snapped again.
"What is it, then?"
"It's another Eddie situation!"
You sighed, "Fi... You can't horde people, right? Ollie bein' here, he's free game to you, Farleigh, Ven."
"And you?"
"Fuck no, lad gives me the creeps," you blanched.
"Still?"
"Yeah, fuckin' still. Call it intuition, but there's something off, Felix. I know you don't want to hear it, but when I have ever been wrong? Huh? Tell me."
"You've not been."
"Exactly - I know a leech when I see one. So, you draw your assumptions, but perhaps what Farleigh saw is true, perhaps not - but you'll get more answers by confronting the truth than ignoring it."
He sighed, dropping to your bed, shaking his head. "Well..." He mumbled, "What do you think?"
You paused, "Doesn't matter."
"Does to me. Please, love, it's Eddie again and I don't - "
"All right," you relented, sitting beside him. "My money's on... Something happened, it's just a matter of what, exactly. How about we go to breakfast, see what the energy is there."
"Feels like I can't stomach anything."
"Your mother and father will be upset if we don't go down, c'mon," you whispered, standing, offering your hand. "I'll sit with you, and if you get upset, you can just lean into me, yeah?"
He took your hand, but didn't get up. He just stared at where you were conjoined, rubbing your hand with his thumb. "Does this mean we're fine? That things are... Are things okay between us?"
"Never not been fine, Fi."
"You've avoided me since we got here."
"I've been dealing with shit - "
"That you won't tell me about," he scoffed.
"Yeah," you agreed, his eyes shooting up to meet yours, "you're right, I won't tell you 'cause I can't yet. I want answers first... Then we can talk. I've gotta figure this out for myself, Fi."
"Well, I can help, you know?"
"No, you've helped plenty," you alluded. "C'mon, breakfast."
"Fuck's sake," he grumbled, finally standing, but tightening his grip on your hand. You lead the way to the terrace the Cattons decided to dine at that morning, being the last two to arrive.
There were two seats side-by-side.
"Good morning," you greeted the family that took you in, Felix silent and angry as he took his seat - but still pulled yours out.
"Morning."
"Good morning, darlings," Elspeth breathed from the head of the table.
"You sleep well?" Ollie asked as Felix whipped his cloth napkin to his lap.
"No, not really, mate," he grit, not looking at the boy and instead, reached for your hand. You handed him a cigarette, placing your own between your lips - both forgoing morning meals.
"We're 30 for dinner tomorrow night," Sir James informed the table. "Stopford Sackville has cried off."
"Oh, dear, that's a shame," Elspeth feigned sympathy.
"God, I forgot about fucking dinner," Felix tilted his head back, speaking between his stick as you lit the end of yours - then reaching for his after nudging his bulging bicep to warrant his immediate attention.
"Wait, who is coming to dinner, again?" Farleigh asked.
"The Henrys," Ven reminded.
"No, please!" Farleigh whined quietly.
"Who are the Henrys?" Ollie asked.
"Dad's friends," Ven filled in, Felix glaring at you as you laced your hand with his and squeezed in warning. "They're all called Henry."
"Not all of them," James corrected. "Just most."
"It'll be fun," Elspeth assured.
"It'll be being molested by Henry," Ven continued, swallowing a bite of croissant. "You know which one."
"Oh, I'll put you next to Oliver, then, he can molest you instead," Elspeth quipped, Felix strangling your hand.
"Don't," you whispered, Ollie's head cocking at Ven in an unspoken conversation. She hummed an amused chuckle. Felix glared at them both before looking back at you, silently begging you to let him snap. "Not right now, please, just breathe," you whispered in his ear, ensuring none others heard you.
"Oh, Oliver, I was going to say, we should do something fun for your birthday. Y/N's is at the end of the summer, we can combine efforts! A proper party! No Henrys, something actually fun. What do you think, darling?"
"Mum, you know Y/N doesn't celebrate anymore," Felix seethed with offense.
"Oh, I know, but it might be fun - a combination party?" She offered. "Darling?"
"If Oliver and Y/N would like it, I think it's a splendid idea," James agreed with his wife.
"I think Oliver looks like he'd rather throw himself out of a window," Farleigh chimed, everyone knowing to avoid asking you your thoughts since you couldn't celebrate without your parents - it just felt wrong. Like a betrayal. So, you no longer celebrated the day of your birth, but the Cattons looked for any reason to throw a party.
"What kind of party?" Oliver asked Elspeth.
"I don't know, whatever you want!" She insisted. "What do you think? About 100 people?"
"A hundred?"
"Or two! It invariably ends up being two, doesn't it, with this sort of thing?" She asked her husband, who hummed in amusement. She told Ollie, "Invite whoever you want. All your friends."
"What friends?" Farleigh leered.
"Oh! Oh!" James folded his paper messily in excitement, jumping to attention, "How about fancy dress?"
Ollie reached over and nudged Felix in curiosity, picking up on his angry demeanor. Your best mate looked down at you, making you lean your chin on his shoulder. "Oh, yes!" Mrs. Catton agreed.
"I can wear my suit of armor, Elspeth!" James giddily exclaimed with a childlike grin that made your heart weep gently.
"Good idea, darling," she agreed as Venetia stood hastily from the table; all knowing where she was going, and what she was going to do. "We could have a theme!" She distracted, you watching Venetia and knowing you needed to follow. She'd been caring for you in your illness, you could at least hold her hair back, too. "What about Midsummer Night's Dream?" Elspeth looked around for opinions.
"Lovely," James prasied.
"Bring on the slutty fairies," Farleigh mused.
"Awh, lovie, you'll still be the sluttiest fairy, don't worry," you teased, glancing back again and seeing Venetia escape inside.
"You wanna match my sluttiness?" He asked you.
"As if that was ever in question," you shot back, Felix offering you a small look. "I'll be right back," you excused yourself, standing from your seat but bending at the waist. You whispered in Felix's ear, "I've gotta go, 'M sorry, just keep calm, love. You're all right."
"Find me later," he requested, holding your hand a moment longer before letting you escape.
"So," James grinned as you walked away, leaning in towards his son, "how are things with you two?"
"Yes, darling, you two seem better! Did you finally tell her how you feel?" Elspeth asked.
If Felix was surprised by his parents knowledge, he didn't show; instead scoffing lightly, "Yeah, right..."
"Oh, darling - "
"She doesn't feel the same, Mum," he refused, sighing deeply - making Oliver's stomach coil. "Just leave it, all right? We're just friends, only ever gonna be just friends - she's part of the family. No need to mess all that up."
Farleigh smirked subtly and took a drag from his cigarette.
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While hosting the Henrys for dinner, you felt another tide turn while sitting amongst the rich and fabulous. You knew them all, of course, grew up knowing them and attending these dinners with your parents. But something was amiss, something churned your stomach and clenched your heart.
You felt your chest tickle and tighten, the desperate need to cough nearly strangling you; Oliver paying close attention to your struggle from beside Felix. You coughed unexpectedly, seeing blood splatter onto your plate and without a single person noticing, you got up, excused yourself, and rushed from the dinner table with a hand over your mouth. Duncan swiftly cleared your place setting.
"Hear that, love?" Felix turned to look at you, only finding an empty seat. He looked around in case you were mingling, not spying you, and slowly got to his feet.
"Where are you going, darling?" James asked, "Sit, sit - "
"I'm only going to check on Y/N," he explained.
"No, no, sit, sit, sit, we know she's been fighting her stomach all summer," James waved off, and slowly, Felix went against his instinct and sat down. Venetia felt her heart steel in annoyance, wishing her brother would just wake up and realize what was happening.
When Oliver caught Venetia's eye, she questioned, "Felix warned you off, then?"
"Well, maybe we just need to be a bit more careful," he hushed.
"No, thanks," Ven refused, not one to sneak around her own home to satisfy her brother's jealously and possessiveness. "It's just sooooo disappointing," she snipped. "You're just another one of his toys."
"Like Y/N?"
"Y/N's not a toy," she barked.
"You're upset," Oliver noted.
"Oh, don't worry, I'm used to it - honestly. I mean, he never liked sharing his toys. Even the ones he doesn't want to play with anymore."
Oliver cocked his head, wondering, "Well, he's kept Y/N around this long."
"Y/N isn't a toy, Oliver, not to Felix, not to this family," she sneered in anger. "And he won't ever grow tired of her, she doesn't hold a temporary position in his life - unlike most." She chuckled dryly, "Honestly, do you not get it by now? She's the gatekeeper, and you're just a passing interest. You won't ever truly be his because she already is, and there's no replacing Y/N L/N - not to Felix, not in this lifetime." She offered a fake smile and turned from him to face her left, distracted by one of the Henrys.
Oliver knew all that, and he was working on removing you from the portrait - but it seemed, maybe he didn't have to work too hard. A rare disease had infected you the moment Oliver Quick laid eyes on Felix Catton - eating away at you internally, making you lose interest in yourself, plaguing you with self doubt to the point you couldn't look in a mirror without seeing a stranger. When Oliver decided to act against the pretty, rich boy, he started a chain of events that lead here: him, in a tux, at a dinner party, and you, shattering the frail skin on your knees from how hard you dropped to them - spewing blood, wine, and sunflower blossoms.
You choked harshly, make up ruined from your blood, sweat, and tears; hacking out most of a put-together flower. Your throat was shredded, dripping blood down into your lungs to slowly fill them again - floral growth breaking the barrier of your organs, sending unimaginable pain through your body.
You heard the karaoke begin, heaving over the sounds of drunken antics. You slowly crawled out of the bathroom, sniffling as you used your bed to lift your fragile body to your feet only to strip from your gown and crash into bed. Weakness invaded your muscles, exhaustion coated your bones, and your eyes stung with the endless supply of tears that would stain your cheeks.
Morning came far too quickly, and with it, Farleigh's forced departure from Saltburn. You were all dreadfully confused, Venetia explaining he'd been caught nicking items from around the house to sell for a profit - perhaps feeling desperate, wanting to help his mother without needing to ask for the help.
You weren't sure what to say to the situation, so you said nothing, but felt desperate to scream for your own help at the top of your lungs. The closer Ollie's birthday drew, the more you bent over the toilet, the more blooms that tore from your lungs and esophagus. You were at a loss over what to do, fearing you were too late for a doctor, and on the hottest day of the year, while everyone was outside by the water, you were inside, scouring the vast and random library.
"Miss," Duncan leered from behind you, no longer causing fright. "Is there something I can help you locate?"
"No, I'm just doin' some more research, Duncan, thank you, though."
"On what's wrong, Miss?"
"Yeah," you frowned, storing another book. "Nothing answers my questions, nothing explains this condition."
"Hm," he considered, "may I?"
"Please," you gestured him forward, watching in mild curiosity as he moved the ladder, ascended, looked over the spines of the many books and then made his selection.
"I've read every book in this library, and think this might help," He explained, handing you the dark green book about Japanese lore and watching you instantly finger through it.
You eyed him for a moment, asking, "You haven't told them, have you?"
"I found your request for privacy reasonable," he nodded, "and have not told the masters of the house."
You nodded, breathing in relief. "I promise, I'll tell them soon - when I figure this out."
"I think you already have," he mentioned, glancing at the open book in your hands. When you looked down, you had paused on a page titled: Hanahaki Disease.
The chapter was filled with detailed accounts of previous patients and sufferers; all giving a recollection of their battle with the unknown illness. You looked up at Duncan in shock, rereading the passage that told you what you needed to know:
"Hanahaki Disease can be fatal by making the infected vomit flora; either just petals or full blooms. There are three known variations of the disease, but all are caused by unrequited love - making the process often long, drawn out, and incredibly painful. The first variation involves the infected confessing their love to their desired, and that love being returned. This is the cleanest way to cure Hanahaki Disease. The second variation includes the desired not returning the known affection, leaving the infected to undergo surgery, a viable but messy recovery. The operation removes the plants growing in the lungs, but in turn, also removes all known traces and memory of the desired - but it does result in the infected being cured. The third and final variation is the worst, where the infected confesses, the desired does not return any affection or want, and leaves them to suffer until the bitter, bloody end. Without care or caution, this disease can become unmanageable with common side effects including but not limited to: blood loss, weight loss, avoidance, isolation, fear of food, fear of living, fear of affection, miscommunication, blood from other bodily orifices, and uncontrollable depression, anxiety, and other mental afflictions. Most infected never fully recover from the aftermath of this disease, and even when their love is returned, they are often haunted by the damaging effects of unrequited love."
You stared at the passage in shock, looking up slowly to spy Duncan staring at you in pity.
"I had a companion like you are to Mr. Felix, once," he confessed. "I was dedicated to my job, loyal to the Cattons, and in turn, he suffered greatly because I couldn't love him how he deserved." Duncan blinked at you twice in the silence that stretched between you. "My advice, Miss? Do not wait - you should come clean to Mr. Felix, let him decide how he feels, and should he not return your affection, I will take you personally to the hospital, where you might choose to undergo the procedure."
"And lose all memory of Felix? Of the Cattons? Of Saltburn?" You asked in desperation, tears swelling in your sunken eyes. "Not likely, Duncan, they're my family. I couldn't bear to forget them, even if it means I should live - I wouldn't be alive anymore. Not without him, not without this family that took me in without a moment's hesitation. I'd lose myself."
"But you'd have the chance to discover something new," he argued gently. "You have your own decisions to make, Miss, but I can only tell you my deepest regret was being so far up Sir James' arse that I missed the life that passed me by. And now," he sighed, "I live with the fact that I condemned my beautiful Roger."
"I'm sorry for your loss, Duncan..."
"I do not wish to see you suffer more than you have been," he frowned. "But I understand the fear you have, emotions are terrifying, especially for the young. But love is not conditional, Miss... Remember that. And having only a part of Mr. Felix would result in losing yourself entirely, whereas losing a part of him would result in you rediscovering all you are. Just... Just something to think about."
"How did you find this?" You asked softly.
"After Roger, I had no reason to care for much else other than the written accounts of those who passed before me. It felt like I was given a life to live, if only vicariously. I've read them all," he reminded, gesturing to the grand library, "and when I found this, I knew I had my answers. That being afraid costs us more than being brave."
You read the book in its entirety. You soaked in every recorded account.
Duncan's words weighed on your heart, and the last few nights leading up to Oliver's party were spent on bruised knees. Venetia still slept in your room a few nights a week, begging you to seek medical attention, and you promised her, after the party, you'd take action. She didn't need to know you were lying just yet.
But as it seemed, your lies were minuscule in comparison to others.
The day of the party arrived, Felix taking Ollie out for a drive as a birthday present. Where their destination was, you didn't know, you couldn't care, because watching them drive off the property dropped you to the ground as your heart felt as if it were physically shattered. You couldn't breath, the sunflowers strangling you from the inside, and after watching the love of your life drive off with another lad, you felt as if your fate was sealed.
That was it.
He didn't love you, he had Ollie. There was only so much love to be given at a time, and Ollie soaked it all up. You didn't stand a chance, you knew Felix's infatuation was out of control with Ollie's pitiful background piquing his interest. You felt like old news, you felt abandoned, alone, cold, heartless...
"What're you wearing tonight?" Venetia asked, tossing pieces of clothing around. "Felix is wearing these sort of golden wings, want to match?"
"What are you wearing, love? Maybe I'll match with you?"
"No, no," she grinned, "I've just found the perfect outfit for you!"
She squealed in excitement, turning to show you the dress seemingly made out of strips of fabric and a corset; creating an ethereal look and design. The color was pale, moss green with shimmering pale golds and nudes paired amongst the fabric. It created an illusion that the mini dress moved and swished around your thighs, and when she handed you golden gladiator sandals, you were sold.
Venetia spent more time helping you get ready than she did herself. She ensured your hair was pinned off your neck, that your make-up was mystical and covered in glitter, corset cinched at the waist to show your figure, and that you had a smaller pair of golden wings to top off your slutty fairy look.
Farleigh would've been proud.
The dress showed off your back, only thin straps keeping it in place as the wings were small enough that you weren't hidden under them. You showed more skin in that dress than you had all summer, your thinning frame tailored under Venetia's talented fingers.
Her hands clapped when you showed her the final look.
"Love the spider web chain," you complimented, clipped her in.
"Sure?"
"It's a look, Ven, you're stunning," you complimented, smiling at your friend with genuine kindness. "C'mon, I think I can hear people arriving."
Once more, Venetia squealed and snatched your hand, racing from her room and leading you into the party on the grounds as the sun was beginning to set. After greeting Elspeth and Sir James, complimenting their chosen costumes, you were sucked into a night of young debauchery; Venetia pinned to your side.
And thankfully, she was there to witness the moment you gave up. Moving through one of the darkened rooms, you were mingling with old classmates, happy to see familiar, friendly faces, and just as you turned, your glass shattered to the floor with the last bit of your heart and composure.
You saw Felix, clear as day, dancing with none other then fucking India - the girl you felt most in competition with, besides Annabel. He was so close to her, they were practically fucking; seemingly distracted by one another, they didn't even notice the party.
"Oh, love," Ven turned to you, but you just gave her a pained look.
"I'm gonna go," you rushed.
"No, wait - "
"I need to be alone, Ven," you insisted, the tears starting as your chest felt too tight in the crowded room. "I told you, I fucking told you, he doesn't feel the same," you sniffled, her eyes widening as you felt a familiar metallic taste in your mouth.
When your hand lifted, you smeared blood from your lips and nostrils, blinking in recognition - knowing what was to come next.
"I-I-I have to go, 'M sorry," you rushed, blood oozing and dripping down your neck in artistic scribbles. You didn't bother hiding this time, turning from your fellow drunkards to escape outside - heading for the maze, like you always did when needing to be alone.
Your room wasn't safe, anyone could find you there. The entire home was overrun with party-goers. The grounds surrounding Saltburn unsafe for your breakdown, as well.
So, you raced to the one place you felt safe anymore: the maze.
Your blood stained the shrubbery as you stumbled through it, trying to hold together, but the moment you reached the Minotaur statue, your legs gave up, mud squishing to your knees, and instantly coughing, hacking, and heaving blood from your lungs.
Long, pretty bright yellow sunflower petals came out in an abundance, the most it's ever been, before you were vomiting full blooms again.
You felt woozy, dizzy... Less than human.
You just wanted it to stop.
When you left Venetia's side, she noted you beelining outside and knew immediately where you had run off to. In unfiltered anger, she turned and shoved through the crowd up to her brother, grabbed him by the strap of his wife beater, and yanked him after her.
"Oi! Hey, hey, hey, Venetia! What the fuck are you doing!?"
"You've fucked up!" She raged, ignoring the looks from others and lead him outside so they could hear each other.
"Are you out of your mind?" He demanded.
"Are you!?" She sneered. "The fuck are you doing!?"
"What?" He scoffed, "What am I doing wrong, dancing at our party? Hmm?"
"With that skank!?"
"Hey!" India barked, having followed them outside.
"This doesn't concern you!" Ven barked, Felix feeling on-edge with his sister so enraged.
"You're talkin' about me, I think it does!"
"Ven, what the hell's gotten into you - "
"It's about Y/N!"
Felix froze for a moment, then looked at India, "Go inside."
"What!?"
"Piss off, India! She's right, this doesn't concern you!" He snapped, the girl scurrying away with her tail tucked firmly between her legs. When Felix looked at his sister, he demanded in a rush, "What about Y/N? Where even is she - "
"I promised her I wouldn't intervene, I swore I wouldn't say anything - especially to you, but you're such a fucking idiot, if you're not fed anything, you don't get it!"
"Is this really the time to insult me?"
She glared, steeling her jaw and gritting, "Y/N's in the maze."
"Okay? She goes there - "
"No, listen to me," Ven sneered. "She's been in love with you, Farleigh and I both figured it out - but it was really fucking obvious."
Felix blanched in shock, "What?"
"She's in love with you, you fucking idiot! She's been sick the whole summer because you can't love her back!"
"How - what are you on about!?"
"She's been throwing up blood, you're honestly killing her by doing what you're doing with all these girls! By ignoring whatever you feel - by denying it repeatedly! It's not fair! All she's done is love and support you, care for you, protect you, and you're fucking killing her!"
He blinked, "She loves me?"
"Yes, you fucking imbecile! And tonight was her last straw, I fucking saw it! She lives here, you jagoff, and you're dancing with India - right in front of Y/N? In her own home? Where she's supposed to be safe!?"
"I-I didn't - I didn't know!"
"No shit, because you're both fucking idiots who talk about everything except your feelings! Do better, Felix! Now, go! She needs you to be a fucking man - go! She needs you, Felix, she's in the maze, don't fuck this up more than you have!"
He didn't hesitate to shoot off in the direction of the maze, Farleigh catching sight and pushing his brows together before realizing he was sprinting after you - I mean, who else would Felix move that fast for? Into the maze Felix went, and Farleigh knew, everything was about to change. Elspeth and Sir James didn't notice a thing, too distracted by their party, but there was another watching; a set of dead, ghostly blue eyes nearly glowing in the night as they locked onto their prey fleeing the party.
Felix sprinted his way through the maze, an expert at navigating, and when he made it to the center, his own heart constricted to a suffocating depth.
"Oh, my girl," he rushed to your side, getting on his knees and holding your weakening body as crimson dribbled from your mouth. The pool of blood was grand enough that he worried how you'd make it through the night; floating sunflowers a hauntingly beautiful sight in the dead of night. "Hey, hey, you're okay, you're all right, I got you - I'm here," he whispered, smoothing hair from your face. "It's me, it's your Felix, love, just focus on me, yeah?"
And finally, with a sniffle that did little to nothing, you looked into his eyes with yours rimmed in red. "Fi..."
"Don't talk, save your energy, I'm gonna get you somewhere safe - "
"I've gotta tell you something."
"Tell me after we get to your room, yeah?"
Your head shook, "If I wait longer, it'll get worse."
"Sweetheart, please - "
"I'm in love with you," you finally confessed to him, unable to look him in the eyes for a second longer. You stared at your demise, blood soaking into both your knees. "Have been, I think, since I moved in here," you whimpered, "and after my parents died, I fell so fucking in love with you that it hurt. But out of fear of losing this friendship, I couldn't - I couldn't tell you. And now, it's killing me, but you deserve to know: I'm so fucking in love with you, makes me physically ill. I-I can't do this anymore, Fi, I just can't - the pain is too much and I've already lost so much - "
"Felix?" Ollie called in a drunken whine, entering the center.
"Oh, Jesus Christ, man!" Felix snapped, whipping around to glare at Ollie as you folded into his chest out of sheer pain. Of course, in the midst of your confession, nobody but Oliver fucking Quick would show up. "Get out of here! Now, Ollie, I'm not fucking joking!"
"Is she all right?" He asked, stumbling a bit.
"What the fuck are you still doing here!? Get out, fucking go, this doesn't concern you!"
"We need to talk, I need to talk to you!"
"It's fine, talk t'him," you wheezed, trying to get to your feet, but failing out of sheer weakness.
"No, you need to fucking go, Ollie! Now! Y/N and I need to talk a helluva lot more than we do!"
You used his shoulders to stand, "Talk t'him, Fi, don't let this shit happen t'someone else." He glanced to your blood as you let go of him, stumbling just out of reach, towards one of the maze exits.
"We need to talk, Felix!" Ollie demanded as you slipped out of sight.
"No, you know what? Fuck you!" He barked. "You're not what's important right now, Ollie! For fuck's sake!"
"Don't go after her," Ollie sneered, stepping in Felix's way when he climbed to his feet and meant to go after you.
"Fuck is wrong with you, mate!?" Felix raged, shoving Ollie back several steps. "Hey? So fucked in the head, you think you take precedence over my girl?"
"Y-Your girl?"
"Fucking Y/N!" He shouted. "Yes! My fucking girl, that I was so blinded by you to fucking see what was wrong! Now fuck off!"
"She's nothing - "
"SHE'S FUCKING EVERYTHING!" Felix shouted, you pausing in the maze when you heard it. "You and I can talk later, if I even fucking want to, but right now, my girl needs me - not fucking you!"
"I see she's got you so blinded - "
"You think Y/N's the problem here?" Felix sneered, getting in Ollie's face; fisting the lapels of his blazer. "Huh? You blaming her?"
"No, just saying - "
"All the wrong fucking things," Felix shoved him back again. "She's all that fucking matters to me!" He shouted again, you slowly nearing the entrance into the center of the maze, remaining hidden behind a shrub. "Not you, not all your lies - but her! It's always been her, but you fucking knew that, didn't you!? You saw what we were, what we had, what we could've been, what we were dancing around, and just had to wedge yourself between us, yeah? I didn't see it before, but your fucking lies - all your fucking lies, you were trying to ruin the best thing in my life! And you might've just succeeded!"
"She doesn't deserve you! None of them do!"
"What the fuck is wrong with you, Oliver!?" Felix cried, "Leave me the fuck alone! Leave us the fuck alone! Leave my family the fuck alone! Christ! Please, stop!"
"We need to talk!" Ollie now approached Felix, making him back up into the statue.
"We can't - we can't, are you fucking crazy? Haven't you ruined enough!?"
"Me!?" He snarled. "I didn't ruin shit, it was her! It was all her, don't you see? You pitied us against each other, I had to do this! For you! You can't just throw me away!"
Felix lost his temper, shoving Oliver again, "Get the fuck away from me! I can! I can and I will throw you away - for her! I'd do anything for her, don't you fucking get that!? I didn't see before, but now I do, the slimy, scum you are - and I'd throw you away a hundred times if it meant being with her! Fuck out of here, leave us alone!"
Oliver shouted as he grabbed Felix's shirt, "Look, I just gave you what you wanted!" His voice lowered to a quiver, "Like everyone else does. Everyone puts on a show for Felix! So, I'm sorry that my - m-m-my performance wasn't good enough, like Y/N's always is."
You crept from the shadows, neither lad noticing; intrigued by the words being slurred, shouted, and weaponized.
"I think... I think you need to see somebody," Felix whispered, not willing to admit aloud that Oliver was scaring him. "You need help, okay? Seriously."
"No. No, I don't," Ollie sneered - sounding almost sober. "I just need you to understand how much I fucking love you."
And there it was - another confession. Your heart (or whatever was left of it) felt heavy, like it was being constricted and anchored to your feet.
Felix whispered, "I love Y/N, mate, you have to know - wasn't exactly a huge secret, except to us. To her and I, not you and I, Ollie."
You felt something akin to shock spark in your gut, blooming an unknown warmth through your body.
Oliver begged, "You're the only friend I ever had, Felix." His thumbs pet Felix's face despite him trying to wriggle away; being touched by the psychotic liar terrifying him - but no more than the feeling of dread he had watching you stumble away. "Okay... I mean, doesn't this just prove how much - how much of a good friend I actually am? How well I actually know you? I'm still the same person! Yeah?" He whimpered, "I'm still the same person."
"I don't know what you are," Felix whispered in reply. "But I do know you," he paused, confessing, "you make my fucking blood run cold." His head shook, "I know friendship - and it's not this, Ollie, it's not built on lies and deception. Y/N? She's everything to me, mate, and you tried to ruin that. You're a fucking liar, Ollie."
He gagged a little, releasing Felix to stare at him with a sense of defeat. Oliver gagged again, shoving the opened champagne to Felix's chest, muttering, "Wait there a sec," before stepping away to throw up on the opposite side of the statue. He knew the other boy wouldn't be able to resist an open bottle of alcohol.
However, Felix felt it was his opening to escape, and when he looked up, he caught sight of you.
Your finger rose to your lips in a silencing motion, glancing at a puking Oliver, and Felix didn't hesitate to drop the bottle and race for you. When his hands smoothed over either of your cheeks, he checked behind him - seeing Ollie still at a distance - stooping to scoop you in his arms, whispering, "We have to go, love, fucking now."
You agreed and let him rush away into the maze, and before you could exit, Oliver was heard bellowing, "FELIX!"
"What the fuck was all that?" You asked, hiding yourself in his neck; neither caring for the blood being stained.
"I'll explain everything in a minute, love, let me get you somewhere safe," he rushed, the party sounding around you once more. He deflected anyone who got in the way, shoulders bullying past people, ignoring his name being cried out. Up the stairs, down a hall or two, and he was rounding into your room. "All right, hang on," he deposited you on your bed, rushing into your restroom and locking all the doors except the one connecting your room. The main door was also locked.
"What's going on?" You asked.
"He's a liar," Felix panted, wrangling from his wings as he approached you. "But it doesn't matter right now - what matters is our truth. You were interrupted before, but I have to tell you, sweetheart, that your affection isn't one-sided. Okay?" He knelt before you, taking both cheeks in hand. "You're not alone in this, I-I should've told you so much sooner, but I love you, too. No, no, I'm - I'm in love with you and I'm so sorry I didn't say it. Hear me? I'm in love with you, Y/N, I'm so sorry I was selfish, that I didn't see the pain you were in that I was causing."
"Wasn't your fault," you whispered.
"It's all my fault."
"I should've said something, too."
"You're the one who's been suffering all this time, this is on me. Okay?" His head shook, wiping the streams of blood from your nose and lips. "You're a fucking wreck, darling, should've said something so much sooner - saved you from all this pain."
"I was afraid, and didn't want you to know."
"I made you feel as if you couldn't talk to me," his head shook. "Listen to me, I-I have to go warn Mum and Dad about Oliver, but you stay here - "
"You're not leaving," you insisted. "Call Venetia's cell or Farleigh's, tell them whatever you're worried about, and stay here, with me, where you're safe. I don't know what I heard, but I don't think Ollie's well in the head and he's gonna gun for you."
He sighed, "They won't answer. The party's - "
"Just try..."
He agreed and grabbed his cell phone from his pocket, dialing his sister as he got you a wet cloth. She answered when he was knelt in front of you again, wiping the remnants of your near-death experience from your face as he explained at a rapid speed a condensed version of events.
When Venetia assured she would tell Elspeth and James, he hung up and brought you in for a tight hug. "Should've told you," he whispered, "I'm so sorry."
"I am, too," you whimpered, holding onto his neck tightly.
"C'mon," he sighed, pulling back to gaze at you, "let's get you changed and in bed - 's been a fucking nightmare tonight."
"How fitting."
"How so?"
You half-smirked, "A Midsummer Nightmare's Dream, innit?" He matched your fleeting amusement.
That night, you and Felix slept beside each other in a secure and locked room; both unconscious when Oliver approached your door and tried to get in before being apprehended by two footmen. He was locked in the basement for the night, given the chance to sober up before morning, when the police would be phoned.
When the sun broke the horizon, Felix woke with a start. You were already awake, looking up at his pale face, begging him to tell you the truth behind Oliver. He looked as if he would be sick, giving you a detailed summary of what happened the day before - all the lies Ollie told, how his parents were alive, well, and very kind. How nothing he's told Felix was true - all some form of fucked up lie to make him seem more broken for Felix's endearment.
"Am I that bad, love?" He asked in a hushed tone.
"No, you're just... You just have an affinity for broken things," you answered. "And he gave you what you wanted, tenfold."
"I feel so stupid."
"For being kind?" You shook your head, caressing his cheek.
"Not very kind t'let you suffer in silence, was it?"
"You couldn't have known how bad it all was, I wasn't exactly truthful either."
"You protected yourself, while Ollie... Ollie put on a fucking show to get attention, to seem so different, make me feel like I'd be a fool to ignore him," he scoffed. "I'm so sorry, love," he whispered, resting his forehead against yours. "But I meant what I said - you're fucking everything to me and I'd throw everyone away if it meant being with you - keeping you."
It felt so good to assure him, "You have me, Felix. 'M not goin' anywhere."
He smiled gently, sighing in relief, asking, "Can I kiss you now? Please, love, think we've waited plenty long enough."
You didn't answer, you only lifted you lips to his and sealed your fate - meshing into one heart, soul, and one being. Two halves, made whole; cut from the same cloth and stitched together. His tongue swept across the seam of your lips, mingling with yours and never knowing when he had felt so complete while kissing a woman.
Because he hadn't. Everyone else before you was a place holder, temporary, a fleeting interest. You were a part of him, never wanting to experience life without the other, but as the house slowly woke up, you were both reminded of reality...
There was still a madman to be dealt with, and Felix wanted a front row viewing to ensure Oliver Quick was truly gone and your lives in a relationship could finally start.
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requesting rules and masterlist
Saltburn masterlist
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other Hanahaki Disease fics:
featuring: Eddie Munson from Stranger Things
Cherry Blossom Colored Kisses
Tears in the Rain
Gone with the Sin
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279 notes · View notes
yeetus-feetus · 7 months
Text
de-aging au
Duke is a much smaller Duke one day, he's lost all his memories beyond the young age he is now and he's scared and confused. He doesn't know where is. But then there's Tim, his Robin! And suddenly everything is
The bats have no idea what's going on, but Duke refuses to go to anyone but Tim. He's also a little ball of energy bouncing off all the walls, and Tim is SO tired. "Robin- Tim, come play tag with me!"
One night Tim ends up passing out at his desk, a sleeping Duke cuddling into him on his lap.
Except when Duke wakes up Tim is small too. And he doesn't remember who Duke is!!
So Duke reintroduces himself and Tim let's himself be dragged downstairs to the actually Batcave!
Bruce is looking at them in absolute astonishment, they're so small!!
Damian laughs at Tim's smallness and Tim gives a cold glare. Maybe age can't change some things.
"where are Nightwing and the new Robin?" Tim asks.
"I'm Robin."
"no, I meant Jason!" Tim huffs and crosses his arms. Ah, he's so young he still believes Jay is Robin.
Duke is still clinging to him, but Tim can't bring himself to mind all too much.
Bruce doesn't know how to handle these boys, between a hyperactive Duke and an absolute menace Tim.
Dick tries to help, but even he can't keep up with the mischief and shenanigans they get up to together.
"dick pick us up!"
"yeah! Pick us up pick us up! And swing us around until we get dizzy!"
"again!"
"again!"
It's time to bring out the big guns, and by that they mean calling Jason over to the manor.
Tim settles immediately, but Duke remains overly weary around the large man with guns strapped to his thighs. He's kinda scary.
But Tim likes Jason well enough. At some point he ends up cuddled up with Jason who's stretched out on the couch, and Duke is just a little bit jealous.
"hey stop hogging him! Tim is mine," Duke pouts.
Jason raises an eyebrow at the boy, and Tim tilts his head. "You know there's enough room for both of us up here, right? Jason is a lot bigger than he used to be."
Duke considers this. "Mm okay, but only because you're up there". And he climbs up into Jason's lap to cuddle into Tim's side.
It's calm for a moment, until Duke starts to fidget, not able to stay still for too long. Jason let's put an annoyed noise and looks at them over the top of his book. "Would you quit it I'm tryna read here".
"what are you reading?" Duke asks.
"Macbeth."
Tim scrunched his nose up. "Why are you reading that?"
"I like it. Reminds me of school", and Tim catches something in his tone that Duke absolutely doesn't.
"it sounds silly. Will you red it to us?"
Jason looks at the both of them for a very long moment before signing. "Sure, but you've gotta stay still, your knees are already in my ribs."
The three of them all end up falling asleep like that, tucked into the lounge and curled up together.
Except when they wake up in the morning, Jason is scrawny little boy, even smaller than Tim and Duke.
Tim explains what he can to the tiny Jason as Duke sneaks some snacks from the kitchen cupboard for them.
Cass catches them stuffing their faces with junk food and squeals. "Three baby brother's now!" And scoops them all up as the quick and try to squirm away.
"gotta tell B"
"wait who are you exactly?" Jason asks.
"big sister", Cass smiles and pets his curls.
"no way! Really? I've never had a big sister before", he exclaims.
Cass carries all three of them down to the Batcave because she's so strong and cool! And Jason can't believe he ends up with such a cool sister.
"Batman!!!" Jason shouts in pure excitement, and Bruce turns around and almost cries.
Because look how small!! Oh baby Jay lad!! So precious and smol!
"I think the de-aging syndrome may be contagious", Tim speaks up. "You should have us all properly quarantined until you can find a cure."
quarantine is fun, for Jason and Tim at least (tiny Tim is plotting revenge on whoever caused this, Jason is reading and occasionally shouting at the characters). Duke can't stand having to stay still in the same one room for so long.
idk where this is going, but consider this awesome 3am idea of mine
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johnslittlespoon · 5 months
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this is me hitting y'all with a "hear me out" on bikeriders!gale and college student leaving!john. pleasepleaseplease think of the cliche daddy issues. the slow burn angst. strong intimidating but softie biker bf pulling up to pretty college bf's house. gale passing his helmet to john while john's parents watch from the kitchen window in horror as their son gets on the back of a rugged tatted man's motorcycle. john stealing gale's hoodie when he stays over so he can 'accidentally' wear it home the next day and bury his face in the smell of gale's cigarettes and cologne and gasoline and open road.
or, alternatively, bikeriders!gale is leaving!john's friend's single dad lmaoo. classic dilf crush trope. john makes a new friend at college and the first time he goes to his house he meets his dad and is like fuck. well, that's it for me. he crushes hard from day one and has no idea gale feels the same way because he's dense and gale's not gonna make the first move obviously. and god, the miscommunication and the secret flirting and the hookups and dancing around feelings because neither is sure if it's more than sex for the other. i could fill three books with this shit genuinely <3
idk i just think the contrast of both of them would be such a fun dynamic to explore and they'd look fucking beautiful together :-)
(this is definitely not me gauging the interest were i to make this my next chaptered fic btw. absolutely not. xx)
(edit: we're going with the first idea lads. world building is happening. i'm in my mind palace. we're yapping under #leaving bikeriders au lol)
(july edit: it's a whole fic now lmao. #tough and sweet fic mwah, but also posts pre–july are still under #leaving bikeriders au :P)
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rainy-nomad · 8 months
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Not at home rn so no arts but I have some hardware virus au ideas that are stirring around in my brain.
- The DCA naturally has a very silent walk, steming from the whole “kids shouldn’t be woken up by loud animatronic during nap time” design. To counter this, Sun is purposefully very loud so he won’t accidentally startle you.
- Sun’s “idle animation” consists of him clicking his fingers (like that one irl eclipse robot) and rattling his rays by randomly retracting then rocketing them back out.
- He’s not in pain, likely some discomfort (as much as a robot can feel at least). The virus makes itself known by a temporary increase in temperature while mutations are occurring, as well as systems errors alerting to something foreign in an affected area and a strong push to solve the issue by assimilating materials.
- Sun is blind. The only vision related systems left are infrared sensors, but only moon has access to them. Though they both have excellent hearing.
- The DCA can no longer stand up straight due to length of his body and the thinning of this limbs. If he could he would measure around 16ft tall. Therefore he is quite a long lad.
-The DCA can only whisper. Who needs full range on a voice box when your new purpose is to be a sneaky snake.
- A flashlight is enough to keep Sun as Sun. In this au both sides have a lot more control when it comes to switching. Just make sure to give him some light in dark areas and keep that flashlight charged.
Anyways that’s all I got for now friends!
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naffeclipse · 9 months
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Have you seen anything about Lethal Company? The idea of your cryptid lads watching over and protecting y/n while y/n looks for scrap in their territory makes me smile. They always make sure Y/n meets their quota to avoid any repercussions with The Company
I have seen so much about Lethal Company and this ask makes me go crazy because AUGH I've been chewing on a sort of AU with the DCA in a Bracken-esque role but, perhaps, a bit more interested in Y/N than a monster otherwise would be.
You're just a measly intern. That's all too clear with how the company sends you the utmost dangerous moons searching for loot and scrap. The hauntingly empty facilities and lifeless manors hold the keys to fulfilling your quota for the week, but you're not alone.
On the occasions when you get separated from your crew or find yourself left behind, you feel the hair on the back of your neck rise, aware of something—someone watching you. You carry a piece of scrap that most likely isn't worth the effort (but how could you return empty-handed?) The sinking feeling that, as much as you dread isolation, it would be safer than the near-silent footsteps following just behind you.
Your mouth grows dry. The pulse in your ears begins drowning the metallic echo of your picked-up pace, and then panic takes hold. You burst into a run, racing for the door, and when you frantically grab the handle, a cold, long-fingered touch seizes the cloth at the back of your neck before you throw yourself outside.
In the dusty air of the moon, you turn back to the door, now slammed shut. You drop the scrap to touch the back of your neck—the orange jumpsuit is torn into ribbons just below your helmet. Claws, you think. Claws so close to grabbing your neck and never letting go.
The next day, with only your flashlight and a walkie-talkie, one of your fellow interns abruptly cuts off mid-sentence (was that a scream or just the static crackling?) Left without even a voice for the company, your skin prickles with full-body goosebumps under the eerie weight of eyes watching you.
You turn slowly to look up the stairway you had just descended. The air in your lungs freezes. You clutch the flashlight tighter. Your helmet system blinks across your vision.
New creature data sent to terminal!
In the darkness engulfing the upper platform stands a dark figure with two piercing, white eyes. You whip up your flashlight and beam it on the terrifying being, catching strange frond-like petals of yellow surrounding a flat, disk-like face. Rooted to the floor in terror, you stare. It tilts its head, petals ruffled, in a snap of agitation. It grumbles low in warning.
You drop the walkie-walkie and run deeper into the darkness, your flashlight beam swinging over the walls with the pounding of your steps echoing horrendously through the deep belly of the facility. The primal instincts of your mind take hold, impulses firing to stay alive.
You come to a dead end. A lone light flickers along the ceiling. Cornered, your palms slamming against the bricked wall as if you could push it down, you start to tremble. You turn back, back pressed against the wall, your helmet softly clanking against the stone.
The beam of your flashlight cuts off. You drop that, too. A whimper of fear escapes you when a shadow moves at the end of the long hallway. Though darkly swathed, pale eyes pinning you in place, the figure crouches, creeping forward on hands and knees. The petals about its face have shifted, dropping to the back of the head and swinging down like a tapered tail. You can't look away. The creature tips its head to one side, the appendage trailing over its shoulder like a nightcap. It grumbles low, displeased.
You turn your head away, pressing deeper against the wall. Your every heartbeat is a swing of a sledgehammer chipping away at your ribcage. Bile rises in the back of your throat.
Then silence.
You clench your hands. Slowly, you carefully lift your eyes and gaze at the end of the hallway.
It's gone. The sunflower face and now nightcap head creature vanish like a bad dream in the morning.
You don't move for several seconds, and when you finally straighten and hug your shaking self, you carefully make your way through the darkness. The sinister awareness of being watched doesn't leave. It never does. You find an emergency exit. A chance to live yet. You feel something cold and heavy standing at your back.
You reach for the door when a large hand grabs the back of your neck. A scream jams itself in your throat. Breathless, frozen, you stand very still. It squeezes lightly as if testing the bones of your spine. Its shadow falls over you. Its other hand enters the corner of your vision, reaching for your face as if to smother you through the helmet. It begins tugging on your throat, pulling you away from the door.
"Stay... friend..." it rasps near-silently.
The flashlight in your grip is heavy. Before the creature captures your head, you throw it back at the beast. Light flares when the plastic hits, sparking with one drop of juice still left, and then you rip yourself free. A quiet grunt of pain echoed under the flash. You throw yourself outside, only turning back to slam the door and unwittingly catch a glimpse of the creature clutching its face. Petals twist and writhe around and behind its head in a clash of its early appearances. Between its long fingers, a face, half yellow and half dark with a static grin peeking out at the corners, twists in shock.
The resounding shut of the door reverberates in your head. You escaped. You gasp and clutch your chest. Somehow, your heart is still within you, fluttering like an injured bird in front of a cat. Your system sent new information to the bestiary catalog.
You keep breathing and unsteadily make your way back to the ship, carrying the searing imprint of the monster's hand on the back of your neck.
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Ooh could I request a royal au with Julian? A Drabble that goes into the relationship of a prince! Julian with his bodyguard!MC? Thank you so much! I love your writing<3
~ here you go, anon friend! ~
You knew when you were told you'd be his bodyguard that you'd have a lot to protect your prince from. Assassins, overzealous potential lovers, gossiping personal attendants, distant relatives with an eye on the crown, wars, natural disasters, drunk mistakes -
You didn't expect the greatest threat to his well-being to be himself.
Your first day on the job, you listened worriedly as he poured his heart out to you with wide, sad eyes, preemptively mourning all the torment and hardship you would suffer as one of the unfortunates stuck by his side. The rest of the day passed peacefully.
Your second day on the job, you had to go sprinting after him as he veered off course on his daily ride around the grounds to check on a servant boy who'd fallen and scraped his knee. You carried the little lad back to the Palace with him, watching the boy gaze at his prince with stars in his teary little eyes. Prince Julian insisted on washing and bandaging the scrape himself because he didn't want to bother the court physician.
Your third day on the job, you took his weight on your shoulder as he staggered down the halls from a late night party, drunkenly sniffling about being doomed to be alone and loveless in this cold royal world while he refused to let go of your hand until he fell asleep.
Your fourth day on the job, you watched with your jaw on the floor as he strode into a room full of the court's medical professionals and outdid them in knowledge, expertise, and creative thinking. You couldn't read a word of what he scrawled on the blackboard of the library as he crashed their brainstorming session on reducing flu outbreaks in the coming fall, but it was clear he was the smartest person there. His ideas and proposals were enough to make his audience re-think their entire approach to illness prevention.
Your fifth day on the job, you stood watch in the library, trying not to doze off as your suggestions of food and water and rest were brushed off in favor of obsessive research.
Your sixth day was much the same as the fifth.
Your seventh day on the job, you bodily carried your delirious prince across the castle to his bedchambers as he woefully decried the burden he'd become to you in starts and jumbled phrases, all while feebly attempting to go back to the library and "make something worthwhile with his life".
Your eighth day on the job, you issued stern reminders to stay in bed and refused to bring him his books, on the King and Queen's orders.
Your ninth day on the job, you rushed behind him as he strode down the hallways and burst into the private meeting room of his parents to complain to them about keeping him from tending to his work.
Your tenth day on the job, you walked to and fro in the library bringing him books as he resumed his research.
Your eleventh day on the job, you held his script and fed him his lines while he practiced for a comedy show planned for the staff children.
Your twelfth day on the job, you sat with him quietly in the gardens and finally agreed to help him visit the town in disguise.
Your thirteenth evening on the job, you bodily carried him to his room once again. Only this time it was from the underground pub, through the evening streets, across the castle grounds, and to his bed after he overindulged in his new favorite drink - "salty bitters". It didn't help that you'd had one or two yourself.
Your fourteenth night on the job, you stayed up with him for hours on end, keeping watch when his nightmares disturbed his sleep, trading stories of your very different childhoods in the soft candlelight until his bed-rumpled curls finally lay calmly on his pillows.
Your fifteenth morning on the job, you awake with a start to find yourself asleep in the crown prince's bed. Your light armor and boots have been removed but you're otherwise undisturbed. You groan and stretch, muscles warm and relaxed from the luxurious mattress, tension headache finally gone from the first stress-free night since your new posting.
"You're welcome to keep sleeping." You turn your head to find him sitting at his writing desk next to you, a warm, open smile on his face as he dips his quill into the bottle of ink in front of him. "I have enough to keep me busy for - oh, another several hours, at least."
You sit up with a satisfied sigh. "Should a humble bodyguard sleep in their prince's bed while he works?"
His face sobers, and his chair scrapes against the floor as he abandons his post to sit next to you. "Do all bodyguards do for their princes what you have done for me? To me, you seem to do more - be more."
The air gets thick. You know you've bonded rapidly, the late nights and addled conversations leading you to believe you've seen more of his heart than most of the people in his life. For someone so sincere, it'd be impossible to openly dedicate yourself to him and not receive otherwise.
"I do for you what I want to, my pri -"
"Julian." He leans in close, golden late-morning light in the flecks of his grey eyes. "Just Julian. Though I don't mind you calling me yours."
Your sixteenth day on the job, you stand shamefacedly in the King and Queen's private audience chamber as your Julian passionately declares his intention to abandon his royal title if it would prevent him from courting you.
To nobody's surprise, it's his princess sister who both scolds and advocates for him the most.
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fancy11schmancy · 11 months
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Finally, after all this time, 1920’s AU Link’s Main outfit concepts are all done!!! It’s been a challenge traveling for work and having time to work on art, but I am slowly getting better at it! (Sorry this took so long ;;)
AU Main Summary:
Since travel has been restored between the light realm and the twilight realm, a newfound unity flourished between the two societies. New friends, new towns/cities to explore, never-before-seen technologies and fashions at their disposal- all seemed well...until nefarious rumors of a returning great threat started to spread... Brief Lore of Link’s Role In The AU: With the new alluring land of Twilight open for entry and for any and all visitors, Link jumps at the chance to visit the amber-hued and shadow-filled world as Zelda’s accompanying guard for the latest council meeting. What and who lies in wait for Link to meet in this parallel reality? A world far more alien and advanced than his own? Rumors of an ethereal beauty shrouded in shadow? ___________________________________________________________ Link, a kindhearted, brave and daring country boy, is ready to make a name for himself as Hyrule’s greatest explorer! He’s known across the land as the “one-man army” for being extremely adaptable and prepared for any situation at any time with his wide arsenal of tools at his disposal. Some may also call him the “evergreen mountaineer” being as there is no mountain or peak he cannot scale- and by the fact he is always seen donning his famous dark green field coat, cap and his pickax of legend. He always greets friends and acquaintances alike with a warm smile and a firm handshake with a hearty hello (or ‘howdy’) with a slight southern draw. (A trademark from those who hail from “across the field," the Ordon Region.)
With his natural talent for exploring and his insatiable hunger for discovery and adventure, he’s charted vast ancient ruins, several dungeons of lore, and has uncovered a fantastic array of numerous treasures on both land and sea. Because of this, he’s occasionally seen as a young, irresponsible and reckless lad, especially due to the extreme nature of most of his exploration missions and his tendency to throw safety to the wind. He may seem like a “lone wolf” most of the time, but he always manages to bring along his dear friend Princess Zelda (and sometimes Midna) for any excursion he may be heading on…but in secret, of course. If the King of Hyrule were to ever find out about the “dangerous” adventures he’s been dragging Zelda onto, surely it would not go well…. Besides adventuring, Link spends his time helping his adoptive family back in Ordon with their expansive pumpkin farm and raising goats that are for producing the finest of goat cheese known region-wide. Any other spare time he has is at the right-hand side of Zelda, helping her with daily royal errands, solving mysteries, or just going out on the town to a local pub or to a delightful picnic in Hyrule Field. When he is at the pub, he can be seen boisterously playing an array of instruments, ranging from drums, stringed instruments, and most notably, his Ocarina (a very cherished gift from Zelda). While Link may be a bit of a country boy, he is no less capable of assisting Zelda in her pursuits of solving the various mysteries popping up around Castle Town, often providing a unique perspective from being the most skilled survivalist around. Once Midna arrives on the scene, she often enables Link’s craziest ideas- bringing out his secret (or not-so-secret) mischievous side. However, Link absolutely loathes Zant, Midna's towering Valet, due to his arrogant nature and his occasional mocking of Link’s short stature.
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quitealotofsodapop · 8 months
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JTTW-era Stone Egg part 2:
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referencing this previous post about the Pilgrims reacting to the knowledge that au!Wukong is having a baby and has a missing mate.
Ao Lie is a real bro; he figured out Wukong was a having a kid based on his dragon/horse nose, and decides to support him 100% no matter his choice at the end of the day. The fact that he suspects its an asexually-produced Stone Egg that could kill his new buddy is something Ao Lie is keeping quiet about until Wukong himself is comfortable sharing it.
Ao Lie, after Bajie accuses him of having a crush on Wukong: "Ew no! He most certainly has a mate awaiting his return - I wouldn't dare dishonor a married demon!" Wukong, brightly playing along: "Yeah, piglet! Plus, no one will ever measure up to my Mihou!" Ao Lie, confused whinny: "Excuse me, what?" Wukong, tail curling into a heart: "The strongest, most clever monkey on Flower Fruit Mountain - my equal in all including on the battlefield. <3"
The rest of the gang are pleasantly surprised... and outraged to learn that their pregnant companion has a mate that up and left him while he was pregnant. Whomever this "Macaque" figure is, the Pilgrims gonna have a stern talk with him when they find him.
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Except maybe the two former-celestials;
Bajie is just like: "Wait, did you just say this Macaque guy was your equal in battle!?" Wukong, wistful sigh: "Yeah..." Zhu Bajie & Sha Wujing: *share equally terrified looks*
Maybe they'll need to devise an attack strategy before confronting this guy head on. Ao Lie loudly states that he's gonna kick the guy if he sees him first.
Tripitaka meanwhile has to mentally wrap his head around the idea of two men marrying before he can process that *Sun Wukong* is married. The Confuscist / Buddhist attitudes at the time said "Girls have Karma Cooties"; so it was considered normal for men to "prefer other men's company" but it was still super-illegal. Being raised in a sheltered, likely all-male, monastery also adds in extra confusion for the monk. Not to mention his own asexuality.
Tripitaka: "Is it... acceptable for a man to love another man like one would a woman?" Zhu Bajie: "Only if they're into it." Tripitaka: "Wha...?"
Eventually he ends up asking the boddhisattvas and different gods for their opinions;
Tripitaka: "Is it normal amongst those in the Celestial Realm for men to... have thoughts of romance for other men?" Erlang: "Oh diyu, yeah! It's totally normal! We even have Tu'er Shen - he's the rabbit god of homosexual love!" Tripitaka, pleasantly surprised: "Oh! That's interesting - but is it accepted?" Erlang & the Plum Hill Lads: *share a footballer's huddle, whispering intensely* Erlang: "Ehhh... just don't bring it up around my uncle. He's kinda weird about it." Triptiaka, a little heartbroken: "Oh..."
Best advice comes from Guanyin herself ofc;
Guanyin: "I'm am composed of multiple energies, Tang Monk. Although I do not experience romantic feelings like say, Chang'e and Hou Yi, I know for a fact that the buddha does not judge those for whom they love - even if their fellow man do so." Tripitaka: *delighted smile!* Tripitaka, remembering why he asked: *fatherly instincts activate* "I'm going to kill that Liu'er Mihou for breaking my student's heart!"
In the Jttw Stone Egged au where Macaque lives, Tripitaka is the only one to get a solid punch in before Wukong calls the gang off.
Angst and canonical death tw under Read More;
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Zhu Bajie ultimately starts out as a huge a-hole, and the Journey makes him a little less of a jerk. One huge change Wukong noticed in his bro's behavior was around the time... he lost Macaque.
Especially in the Slow Boiled au.
Bajie would walk up to Wukong like he did many time when he tried stealing his snacks or to poke fun at him... only to sit down next to the monkey watches the moon together. Both longing.
Zhu Bajie: "You know... I wasn't lying when I said I was cursed to suffer many heartbreaks... I know what it looks like from a mile away." Wukong: *says nothing, hiding face in his arms and knees* Zhu Bajie: "You really loved that guy, huh?" Wukong: *nods, face still hidden* Zhu Bajie, confidently: "...you'll see him again. Maybe not in this lifetime, but you will." Wukong, uncharacteristically quiet: "Thanks..." Zhu Bajie: "No problem."
The pig is noticeably easier on Wukong after that day. And maybe a little more appriciative of the time he had with Culian... he's experienced enough bad love-lifes to figure out how to make things work. Maybe after the Journey is over, he'll give her a call?
He does really hope his Eldest Brother and his mate reunite in the future... even if it means in the Diyu.
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gummygowon · 2 years
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no study room? no problem | park seonghwa
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word count: 1.5k
genre: pwp (barely a plot), smut, tutor!seonghwa x student!reader, university au!
warnings: 18+ mdni!!! unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it lads), pet names (baby), praise (f receiving), sorta perv!seonghwa poor attempts at dirty talk lmk if i missed anything!
author's note: i wrote this while slightly tipsy last night but dear heavens i couldn't get tutor!seonghwa out of my head for a couple of days omfg
your chemistry tutor was insanely hot. there was just no doubt about it. a man with a face chiseled to the fucking gods who was also a genius at organic chemistry, how hotter could he get?
to be honest, you always knew he was hot even before you started taking study sessions with him but lately, he has been looking finer and finer every day. it's gotten to the point where you can't focus on anything except for the idea of him bending you over the desk and fucking you senseless.
not to worry though, seonghwa has been eyeing you ever since you took off your drenched university sweatshirt to reveal the soaked white top that exposed your black bra in the library. seonghwa knew you were cute, and even fantasized about you once or twice before bed. but good lord, the sight of you with that soaked white shirt and ruined mascara fed his imagination for a couple of days. poor seonghwa couldn't focus on a single thing you asked him when he was rock-hard underneath the table.
ever since that day for him, it's been increasingly difficult for him to focus on his planned lesson for the day when the image of you with ruined mascara came across his mind.
seonghwa had enough of it. slowly, he's been inching his way toward getting you in bed. he's become increasingly touchy with you such as leaning just a little too much whenever you asked for help on a problem. additionally, seonghwa mastered the art of subtly, eye-fucking you whenever you were diligently working on your homework. also, he loved to tease you by having his eyes drift toward your lips every occasionally when explaining new concepts.
eventually, the chemistry tutor worked the courage to invite you over to his dorm to study instead of the library. yes, you've been to his dorm on the rare occasion the library was packed. however this time was different, seonghwa planned a study session in the middle of midterm week, meaning that the library was going to be insanely crowded from when it opened and to when it closed.
of course, you agreed to go study in his dorm. you desperately needed to master a few topics before your chem exam at the end of the week and let's just say being stressed was an understatement.
everything went like usual, seonghwa explaining concepts here and there while you began working on your study guide.
"seonghwa?"
"yes?" he pulls his head out of your textbook pretending to be busy to distract his dirty thoughts.
"how do i substitute something again in a reaction?" you ask, biting your lip in concentration.
"you just uh-" seonghwa mumbles staring at the way your teeth gnaw at your lip as his thoughts began to wander. he could probably get you to do the same face if he fucked you hard enough.
"seonghwa?" you wave a hand in his face, trying to reel his attention back to you.
without thinking, he grabbed the hand in front of him startling the both of you. looking deeply into your eyes trying to search for any sign of disgust or anything along those lines, he only found the same desperate hunger in your eyes too.
with his findings, he plunged forward, his lips attacking yours as seonghwa lets the hand that was holding yours drop and use it to tug you onto his lap.
your tongue ghosts over his top lip earning a groan from below. in a second, seonghwa is copying your action from earlier, swiping his tongue over your lip, before entering your mouth. sweet moans escaped as you let your tutor explore your mouth.
soon, your sounds were too much for seonghwa that he pulled away leaving you pouting at the loss of contact.
"bed. now." he instructs pointing over to his neatly folded bed.
immediately, you follow his orders climbing on top of the crisp covers, and quickly seonghwa crawls on top of you. he pulls you in for another messy kiss where your teeth clashed and left you breathless. pulling away to catch his breath, he pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his toned stomach. seonghwa does the same to you, tugging your shirt off as well, revealing the same black bra from the rainy day at the library. oh, he was in a treat for tonight. continuing with ridding your clothes, he moves down to work on getting your pants and pulling both your underwear and pants down in one swift motion.
"gonna need to prep you first." seonghwa says before diving onto your neck to leave little kisses on it. right after he distracts you with his mouth, a finger toys at your arousal, collecting all the slick from wet pussy before plunging everything back in.
"fuck seonghwa," you curse, a hand moving to grip his hair.
steadily, he moves his finger at a decent speed closely watching your reactions. when your cunt begins to ache for more, you subconsciously move your hips to match seonghwa's finger but once he notices, he shoves another finger in catching you off guard.
"oh my god!"
"look at my good girl, she's taking my fingers so well." he hums into your ear before moving his lips down to nibble on your ear, "i can't wait to see how well you take my cock, baby."
"ff-uck want it now." you mumble.
"want what baby? use your words." he teases, his fingers moving at a faster pace.
"want your ah-cockk, pleasee, please." you beg.
"there's my good girl." seonghwa praises his mouth moving once more to your neck to reward you with open-mouthed kisses.
seonghwa flips the both of you over to get you on your knees. your ass sticks up in the air as his mouth waters at the sight of your arousal dripping down your thigh.
you attempt to look behind yourself to look seonghwa by folding your arms in front of your head and craning your neck to look over your shoulder. you watch as seonghwa quickly unzips his pants and kicks it away. the huge bulge in his boxers left your pussy aching knowing that he wanted you as much you wanted him.
with a dazed look, you watch as seonghwa takes his cock out and pumps himself a few times, his tip an angry red with beads or precum leaking from its tips. a moan escapes your mouth as you feel seonghwa's tip grace your folds before he pushes into your cunt.
"fuck!"
a deep groan comes from seonghwa as he bottoms out, feeling how tight you are just for him. he gives you a second to adjust before pulling out and then slamming his hips back in. soon, he falls into a steady rhythm creating lewd noises mixed with your sweet moans and the sinful sounds of his cock ramming into your sopping cunt.
"seonghwa, fuck!" you groan, gripping his bedsheets so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
"look at you, taking my cock so well." he whispers into your ear as he leans over, "i know how much you've been wanting this baby. and now look at you, getting fucked on your knees after waiting so long."
you couldn't even respond, only moans and gasps left your mouth at his dirty words.
"i should reward you huh?"
nodding frantically like a maniac, you look at seonghwa with pleading eyes.
immediately, he stops his rhythms, "it's rude to ignore someone's question baby, and you know i don't reward bad girls."
"y-yes! fuck yes! i'm your good girl!" you cry out just wanting to feel seonghwa move again.
"there's my girl." he praises in your ear once more before continuing the brutal pace on your pussy. soon, seonghwa could tell you were close with how your words turned into senseless mumbles and moans as you repeated his name like a broken record.
"hwa- please, please, let me cum."
"not yet." he instructs leading you to whine out in distress.
however, you were quickly shut up when seonghwa began to pound into you harder. both of his hands were gripping your hips so hard that it was destined to leave bruises later.
"f-fuck, you feel so good, your pussy made just for me. you're all mine now." seonghwa rambles, his words making no sense as they tumbled out of his mouth. his own high coming up fast.
"hwa, please," you cry out once more, the knot in your stomach becoming almost unbearable.
"come now, baby." he groans his hips quickening once more to send the both of you over the edge.
seonghwa works the both of you through your orgasms until you whimper at the overstimulation. slowly, he pulls himself out and watches as his cum mixed with yours drips out of your hole and onto the sheets. it was almost enough for him to get rock hard again but just not tonight.
instead, seonghwa finds his discarded boxers before searching for a clean towel to use to clean you up. when he finally found what he was looking for, he saw you slumped on his bed and out of breath. fuck, this image of you breathless because of him easily replaces the one of you with the soaked white shirt.
"so, same time next week?"
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thegnomelord · 2 years
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"Oh! A new visitor! Why do come in."
Hi there, I'm Gnome, he/him, 20yo, and I write stuff, mostly smut. Currently a med student. A proud monsterfucker and european.
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"These are all for sale, you're free to browse."
Top male reader, Top GN reader, Sub Male reader, Sub GN reader, NSFW, SFW, CoD MW, Genshin Inpact.
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"Oh no no no, I'm a reputable hoarder, I'm not touching that."
Fem Reader, Bottom reader, Scat, Incest, Underage. Minors and Fetishizers DNI
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"The neighbors? Yeah, they're a reputable bunch, be sure to visit if you're ever in the area."
@miguel-owhora - Miguel, @lieutnt - Elijah, @rodolfoparras - Alec, @agoofyannoyancetolaw - Coyote, @bonesnmore - Bone, @clumsydragon - Mhairi, @gazmialmagemela - Embry, @ccreekside - Creek, @pastelclovds, @kingambrosius - Ambrosius.
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"Ah, that. You needn't worry, that's just the fish tank. They don't bite... much."
🦈anon, 👑anon, ☕anon, 🪼anon, 🐙anon, 🐡anon, 🦐anon, 🪸anon, 🦦anon, 🦭anon, 🐺anon, 🐋anon, 🐈‍⬛anon, 🪣anon, 🚗anon🦊😺anon, 😈anon, 👾anon, 🦓anon, 🐆anon, 🦠anon, 🪒anon, 📻anon, 🦇anon, 🦀anon, 🥧anon, 🐎anon
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"Now then, have you chosen what to buy?"
Masterlist:
Genshin Impact
Beastly Urges
bottom Pantalone X monster top reader
Devotion in Steel
Headcannon how Zhongli, Childe and Dottore would worship a cyberpunk sagau god reader.
Pious Worship
Ask for Dom bottom childe x sub top Cyberpunk SAGAU reader.
COD: MWII
500 Follower special prompt game
Soap has a musk kink
What it says on the tin.
Got Your Tongue
Ghost gives a blowjob for the first time.
Price Does Shibari
No sex just teasing, what it says on the tin.
Missing You
Phone sex with Soap.
A Little Bit of Heaven
FTM Gaz and MReader go on Vacation.
Lending a Hand
You/Soap/Gaz monster Au, Soap goes into rut and heat.
Mages and Monsters
Ask/first idea about mage reader and Bluegiragi monster 141 au.
Patience Is a Virtue
Price comes up with a creative way to punish you, sub top reader. Monster AU.
Hell Has a Basemen Floor (Welcome Home)
Long fic with mage reader and poly TF141 strap in lads
Good Dog
Long fic, you're Makarov's Hound, future poly 141
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Tags:
Centerpieces of the Hoard — long fics/headcannonst
Trinkets of the Hoard — short thirsts or ideas I might turn into long fics. The trinkets won't be added to the masterlist.
Gnome's tea break — just ramblings and thoughts
Honorable mentions of the Hoard — recommendations and reblogs
Gnome's prompt game — 500 follower prompt game
Gnome correspondence — answering asks.
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