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get ready with me 🎀

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when society needed u most u vanished PLEASEEE on my knees begging for a part two to ur mark sloan angst

HELPP😭😭 im sorry guys this is my thing its like a fun magician act!! anyway i do apologize but theres no part two to mark sloan angst… maybe maybe ill make another in the future if i get an idea

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god, he’s so lana del rey

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˗ˏˋ 🍒 ˎˊ˗

toxic!theo drabble

18+ tags : (smut, mirror sex, jealous theo)

toxic!theo who would glare down at you at a party, anger coarsing through his veins at the sight of you talking with the hufflepuff headboy. his fists clenching as you threw your head back, laughing way too hard for his liking. shoving his drink into mattheos hand as he practically growled he was leaving. his footsteps heavy as he approached you, grabbing your arm, tugging you away from the other boy, his jaw clenched tightly as he spoke lowly. “shes fucking done here. suggest you leave before i make it hard for you to.”

toxic!theo who would not speak a single word the whole walk to his dorm. his bruising grip on your arm enough words in itself for you. the nerves flying through you being blinded by the undeniable ache settling into your core. sure it was wrong to find his anger so hot but you just couldnt help it. knowing the whole reason you talked to the insufferable hufflepuff was to get a rise out of theo. a small smug grin plastered against your face as you eagerly awaited for what was in store.

toxic!theo who would pin you against the door the second you enter his dorm. his hands braced on the sides of your head, his own dipping down near you. his mouth frustratingly close to your skin as he whispered into your ear, not daring to touch you in any place. “you think its funny to pull shit like that piccola? having fun pissing me off?” and when you nod in response theo fucking looses it. his hands falling to your hips, gripping you tight as he walks you back to the bed without another word. the back of your knees hitting the mattress harshly as you fall back, softly bouncing as you land. a small giggle escaping your lips at possibly the worst time as your stomach fluttered. theos narrowed eyes staring down at you hungrily, watching as your tits bounced with the movement, his head shaking as you giggled.

toxic!theo who would have you completely naked, knees on the bed and back against him. your head falling back against his shoulder as he mercilessly pounded up into you. continuously hitting that one spot with a rhythm so sweet it made your eyes squeeze shut. complete bliss taking over you as theos hands held you up by your tits. fingers softly rolling over your hardened nipples, only adding to the pressure building within you. the room swallowed with nothing but the sounds of your moans and the music of his unrelenting pace. his head dipping to your neck, planting rough sloppy kisses as he gripped your chin tightly, forcing your head up, his deep voice vibrating off your skin. “look at yourself amore, look how good i make you feel.” your eyes opened almost immediately, completely hypnotized by his husky voice. a deep moan shamelessly leaving you at the sight in front of you. your eyes falling half lidded as you watched the mirror closely. seeing every thrust of theo disappearing into you, watching as his hand kneaded your tit, his other holding onto your chin tightly. his eyes meeting your makeup smudged ones through the mirror, looking at you as if he was permentaly engraving the image in his head. the look of you oh so ruined at his hands, completely handing yourself to him, driving him absolutely insane. his lips traveling up your neck as he nipped onto your ear. speaking so close to you you could feel his voice within your body. “tsk tsk, youre enjoying this a little too much bella. you like watching me fuck you like a slut hm? no one can fuck you this good, never gonna need anyone else.”

nothing like smut for a coming back post i guess?? anyway this is my first time actually writing smut so hope its… somewhat enjoyable??? idk toxic theo has unfortunately had a horrid chokehold on me.

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i need to sit on this man’s face so bad

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Guys

Save a horse

Ride a cowboy

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sometimes i go to write something happy but then the voices win and i make it gut wrenching

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one year with luke castellan

↳ october 14 with silena beauregard

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of apollo reader

word count: 3.1k

summary: silena beauregard helps you get ready for what is absolutely, definitely, totally not a date with luke

content: little bit of insecurity talk, r is insecure about scars she has from fighting

notes: it is october in their universe we are officially in the home stretch!!

Silena Beauregard thinks you’re one of the prettiest people at camp — and it’s not only because of your face.

You’re pretty in the traditional sense, of course. But she’s never seen someone light up a room quite like you do. You’re able to make people glow just by giving them one of your gorgeous smiles, something that it seems only you have mastered. And you’re ridiculously strong. She’s never seen someone look so pretty after effortlessly beating someone into the dirt.

You’re one of the most efficient medics at camp, too. She’s convinced part of your healing ability starts the second you see someone—something about your presence has its own soothing effect.

You’re one of the most capable people she knows, so it’s safe to say that Silena’s beyond honored that you’ve asked for her help with something.

She swings her cabin door open the second she hears the knock.

“Hi,” she greets, a small smile on her face.

You’re already grinning at her, and it feels like she’s lifted off of the floor with the force of your smile alone.

“Thank you so much for helping me with this, Silena.” You throw your arms around her in a big hug, and she squeezes you tight.

“The pleasure’s all mine,” she says genuinely. “Gods, when you first asked me to help you get ready to go out, I was so excited!”

“You’re the best,” you gush. “Your perfume smells so nice, by the way. Where’s it from?”

Silena is grinning while she tells you all about how her older sister took a class on olfaction in college and made this specific perfume just for her.

She leads you over to her vanity next to her bed, and flicks on the switch that lights up the entire mirror. You squint, not expecting it, and she says a little oops before dimming the bulbs.

“Is that better?”

“That’s perfect.”

Silena hums as she starts pulling out her different makeup pouches, searching in each drawer for everything she needs.

“So,” she starts, feeling awfully like her hairdresser back home. She leans against her dresser so she can get a good look at your face. “What’s the occasion?”

You look away from her faster than she can comprehend it, smiling sheepishly.

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

She squints at you, not believing it for a second. “Oh, come on. You came here to get all dressed up! There has to be a special something happening.”

“Well..” You drag out the letters while she gets started on moisturizing your face. “I’m just… It’s nothing super big.”

“Go on.”

“I’m just going to carve pumpkins.”

Halloween is in a couple weeks, and Silena could not be more excited. It’s one holiday Camp Half-Blood goes all out for, and the decorations everyone puts up are a perfect mix between frighteningly realistic and perfectly haunted. There’s pumpkin carving all month and a horror maze being put up next week.

“Oh, that’s so fun! Are you going with your siblings?”

“Oh, no. I’m going with Luke.”

Silena tries not to squeal too loud.

“You’re going on a date with Luke Castellan?”

“No, no, no—” you try to deny, but Silena doesn’t buy it for a second.

“Good for you!” Silena isn’t blind. Luke is gorgeous. He’s both adorably cute and insanely hot, and she would be lying if she said she didn’t have a crush on him at one point. “I’ve been wondering when he was going to ask you out!”

You slump in her chair like a sad balloon, and her hand stills by your face. “No, uh… he hasn’t.”

“Huh?” Silena puts down her brush to look you completely in the eye. “But—but you two are going to carve pumpkins.”

“Yeah, so?”

“And you’re going alone?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“And he asked you?”

You pause. “Yes, but, Silena—”

“Then it’s a date!” she insists, knocking a bottle clear off the vanity.

You’re frowning when you catch the container before it hits the floor. “There’s no way that’s even possible.”

Silena stands up straight, her eyes spinning around the empty room like she’s on a hidden camera show. She looks back at you with a very judgmentally raised eyebrow.

“Wait, you…” She blinks twice. “You don’t think he likes you?”

You look away from Silena so you can stare holes into the mirror instead.

“I don’t just think that. I know there’s no way he ever would.”

Silena knows her eyes are wide as saucers at your completely incorrect assumption.

Luke Castellan has it bad for you — it’s something everyone’s kind of accepted by now. He’s constantly following you around, constantly talking about you, constantly teasing you, and constantly giving you the biggest heart eyes ever. Apparently, it’s obvious to absolutely everyone but you.

Silena thinks the chances of Luke not having a massive crush on you is a big fat zero.

But… you seem pretty sure, and she knows the two of you are close. Who would know better than someone who’s actually friends with him?

She resumes her work on your face after a very hesitant second. “Did he say something to you?”

You shake your head, your eyes shut while she pats product into your face. “No, Luke’s way too nice, he’d never.”

And it’s also probably because he’s absolutely obsessed with you, Silena thinks to herself.

“Then why do you think he would never like you?”

Your face screws up while you think about it, your eyes going through every shade of emotion. After a quiet few seconds, you groan and move to put your face in your hands.

She bats your palms away from the powder she’s set under your eyes. “Not the face!”

“Oops, sorry,” you say, holding your hands up and away.

“But answer the question.”

You look at your shoes, and your face is twisted with embarrassment when you say, “We fight all the time. No guy would ever like someone who argues as much as I do.”

Silena’s at a loss for words. You and Luke’s little rivalry is far from a secret, and it’s very clear to everyone that he enjoys getting his ass handed to him every other day by you. And it’s also totally obvious he loves riling you up and teasing you until you get flustered.

“Boys can be weird,” she says, adding the finishing touches to your eyelashes. “Luke argues with you all the time too. He’s flirting with you in his own way.”

“Could you imagine?” You laugh, but it sounds a little sad. “There’s no way any normal guy would ever like the girl that makes fun of him for breathing too loud.”

If that’s the case, then Luke Castellan is far from normal. He leaves your little arguments with the biggest smiles on his face.

“Me and Luke are only ever going to be friends,” you insist, your eyes fluttering open now that Silena’s all done. “Especially because…” you trail off before waving your hands around aimlessly. “You know how Luke is.”

“What about him?”

She takes a quick glance at the weather outside before cracking open a few of her sisters’ trunks for you. Silena knows they won’t mind that she’s borrowing her clothes, especially if it’s for something as special as a date with Luke Castellan.

Because that is absolutely what this is, no matter how much you deny it.

“He’s really cute,” you say simply, a wistful hint to your words. “And everyone knows it. He could have anyone he wanted.”

“Yeah,” Silena pipes up, ankle deep in an array of sweaters. “Like you.”

You throw a decorative pillow at her that she swats away with a laugh.

“Just off the top of my head, I can name about fifteen people madly in love with him who are much nicer to him than I am,” you point out, turning onto your stomach. “There’s absolutely no reason why he would like me of all people. ”

Silena tosses a nice sweater at you before giving you a very pointed look. It upsets her to see people doubt themselves, especially when it’s a person as lovely as you.

“And how many of them has he wanted to hang out with alone?” she points out.

Your lips flatten out into a line, annoyed, because you know she has a point.

“He asked you,” she reminds. “Not anyone else.”

She lets you sit with your thoughts while she finishes finding something nice for you to wear.

The Aphrodite girls own such a huge amount of clothes, which makes for good variety but makes choosing what to wear beyond overwhelming. Silena takes a few minutes, but is able to narrow down about eight different pants to just two jeans.

“Which one?” she asks, comparing the way they’d look paired with your shoes.

She’s definitely leaning towards the one on the left, but your sweater would look so much cuter with the one on the right. She looks up at you to gauge your opinion, and finds that you’re staring off blankly into space.

“Hellooo?” she says, snapping her fingers at you. “Are you okay?”

You blink hard, like you’ve just now realized that she’s been trying to speak to you. Silena thinks you gesture vaguely to the one on the right before you go limp in her pile of pillows.

“I’m sorry. I’m so grateful you’re doing this for me, I swear. But I just can’t stop thinking.”

The girl gives you a sympathetic smile, tossing the rejected pair of pants to the side so she can come sit down next to you.

“It’s no problem at all,” she insists, fixing a few wayward bits of hair. “Talking about what’s bothering you really helps me.”

You squeeze her hand thankfully. “I just hate Luke,” you say, without a hint of conviction in your voice. “He makes me think about stupid stuff like this.”

There’s a dejected look on your face, and Silena rubs your back soothingly.

“One of my older sisters always tells me that comparison is the thief of joy,” she says sagely. “Don’t compare yourself to those other girls. You’re a gem, and I promise you Luke sees it too. There should be no room for doubt in your life.”

The gloomy shadow over your head wanes when you give her your infectious, always sunny smile.

“You’re really wise, Silena.”

She tries not to let that get to her head, but she can’t help and grin at you. “I know!”

You move to unfold the partition in the corner of the room while she goes to put on some music. She pops her CD in and Natasha Bedingfield fills the room.

“So,” Silena says, while she starts packing away her makeup. “How long have you liked Luke?”

There’s a thud when you drop something behind the divider, and then a shuffle as you hurry to pick it up again.

“What?”

“It’s something everyone goes through,” she jokes as she shuts her drawers. “So don’t worry, you’re not alone!”

“I… I mean, well—”

You cut yourself off before you can trail off too much.

“Gods,” you grumble. “He’s just so charming it makes me sick.”

Silena stops herself from clapping her hands together but allows herself a few seconds of giggling. “I know, right! He’s so sweet.”

“Too sweet. I used to be immune to his stupid face, but it’s like I’m weak now,” you lament from across the room. “He asked me to carve pumpkins with him and I stuttered for like a minute straight before saying yes.”

“Young love,” she says dreamily, imagining the big ask. “That’s so cute!”

You laugh, and it sounds like little bells jingling.

Her CD plays on in the back while you finish getting changed, and Silena begins to tell you about how she almost took someone’s eye out the last time she carved a pumpkin. She insists that painting is much more fun, and the two of you end up making pumpkin painting plans by the time you shut the partition.

You hold your hands out and give a little spin, and Silena’s jaw drops. You have a real, palpable shine to you that makes her feel like the sun is being reflected into her eyes.

Each piece is beyond flattering on you, and she decides that whoever made the whole neon orange camp t-shirt a required thing is downright evil.

“You’re glowing,” she coos. “Oh, you’re so pretty! You gotta be ready to catch Luke, ‘cause he’s definitely going to pass out when he sees you.”

You drag her into one last hug, giggling and bashful. “Thank you, Silena. I look this nice because of you.”

“As if,” she says. “You’re one of the prettiest people ever. This is all you!”

She gives you a once over again, and it’s like an actual light bulb turns on over her head. She pictures you with this leather jacket she got a while back and knows it’s exactly what you need.

“It’s cold out, and I have a jacket that’d go perfect with this, give me a sec!”

Silena darts quickly on her feet to the walk-in closet that one of her sisters built a few years ago, letting you do your own thing in the main part of the cabin. It takes her a few minutes to rifle through the amount of outerwear her family owns, but she finds the coat tucked between a big black puffer and a thrifted hoodie of her brother’s.

Silena calls your name, excited to see your final look come together, when she pauses in her tracks.

Someone else is standing in the cabin, and she can’t help but slap her hand over her mouth to resist screaming.

“Sunshine, as I live and breathe.”

Luke’s also exchanged his Camp Half-Blood shirt for more casual clothes, and though that orange tee does wonders for his arms, he looks especially nice in his knitted sweater and nice jeans.

He’s so hot. She has no idea how you’re even conscious right now.

You’re looking at yourself in the mirror, but Silena does not miss the wide grin you have on your face when you catch sight of him behind you.

“You’re breaking into cabins now?” you ask.

Your voice is so calm and even that Silena wants to applaud you. She feels nervous just at the sight of him.

Luke matches your grin with his own. Completely ignoring your question, he says, “You look really pretty.”

You duck your head, flustered. “Thanks, Luke. You don’t look too bad yourself.”

He clutches his chest, his knees buckling. “Wait, did you just—”

“Luke Castellan, don’t start—”

“Did you just compliment me? Are you getting soft on me?”

“In your dreams.”

“I’m starting to think this is one,” he says easily. “I’d say there’s an angel in front of me right now.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you answer through your laugh.

Neither of your smiles fade away for a single second as he moves to stand behind you in the mirror.

You stick out your hand in his direction. “Do you mind helping me put this back on?”

There’s a little flash of metal that Silena recognizes as a necklace you’d had on earlier, and she stifles a laugh. You’re more smooth than you give yourself credit for.

“Of course,” Luke says, as kind as ever.

From the walk-in, Silena has an excellent view of him struggling with the clasp. He pulls an awkward face or two before he gets it secured around your neck and even goes to fix the chain for you.

Silena’s jaw nearly unhinges itself when Luke’s hand slides down your back, his fingers dancing over your skin.

“Pretty gnarly scars, right?” you say, shifting your sweater. It has an open back, and though you don’t look too uncomfortable, you don’t seem used to having your back exposed. “They’re kind of scary to look at.”

“I think they look cool,” Luke replies, and it’s clear he’s not just saying that to flatter you.

There’s a bunch of scars littering the expanse of your skin, both new and old. Some are the size of a scratch while others are larger and inches thick.

Silena knows that although some campers see their scars as a sign of strength, there’s still a bunch of them who get insecure about the way the marks look.

She immediately feels bad. She hadn’t even thought about asking if the sweater was something you were comfortable with.

You look disarmed by his words, your hand moving back to run over a few of the marks. After a few moments, your face breaks out into another smile.

“Watch out, Luke, or I might just win our next sparring match,” you warn teasingly. “I’ll slip right through your hands with the way you’re buttering me up right now.”

“Funny,” he says flatly, before dragging you away from Silena’s mirror. “Wanna head out?”

“Sure.”

He’s starting to walk backwards to the door when his head tilts. “You don’t have a coat?”

“Nope. I’ll be fine, though. A single gust of wind won’t kill me.”

Silena fights back another squeal when Luke shrugs his jacket off and places it around your shoulders.

“You can borrow mine.”

“I’ll be fine, Luke. You keep it.”

“No, I insist.”

“Silena’s just run to get me one of hers, I’m sure she’ll—”

The coat and hanger get shoved back into the depths of the racks before you can even finish your sentence. She swings the closet door open, a fake frown on her face.

“Whoops,” Silena says. “I think I lost it.”

“What?” you say incredulously, looking awfully embarrassed with Luke’s jacket around you. “Are there no other—”

“Nope, sorry.” She shuts the closet door behind her. “My sisters get a little tetchy about sharing their clothes, you know how siblings can be!”

You glance down at your borrowed sweater before looking back at Silena, realization creeping up your face.

“Man, that really does suck,” Luke says, not sounding disturbed in the slightest. He’s grinning when he puts his hand on your back to usher you out the door.

“Maybe that jacket will show up eventually.” Silena shrugs, a shameless smile on her face. “What a bummer.”

Luke shuts up the rest of your complaints by slotting your arms through the sleeves himself, refusing your attempts at giving it back to him. He zips up the front too, just for good measure.

“I hope you guys have fun!” Silena says before the door shuts.

Luke looks back to wink at her while your back is turned. Before he lets the door close, he mouths two words at her.

Thank you.

notes: so so sorry there was not much of luke and sunshine in this but i really wanted to show more of her feelings for him!! she has some real struggles as a girl in love with the camp sweetheart

++ thank you all so much for ur patience bc its been a hot minute since ive updated lol. as always feedback is soooo appreciated tysm for reading! <3

[corynation]

Ink

theo nott x reader

tags : angst, sadness, i love him i promise

His owl to meet him at the astronomy tower wasn’t a worrying moment. His usual “amore mio dolce” greeting melting your heart instantly. Without any fail each time you saw it the same fuzzy feeling in your chest accompanied by the burning of your cheeks arose. His heart at the bottom of the letter sending flutters that coursed throughout your body, pure bliss consuming your brain, leading you to rush to get ready. Throwing on your favorite sweater of his and some leggings you headed out quick, not wanting to keep him waiting for long. Your body perfectly magnetic to him, aching to attach to him, tugging you further and further through the castle as fast as you could.

Theo stood against the railing, looking out amongst the lake. The moonlight casting down on him perfectly. Messy soft curls shining, skin glowing against his white button up. He turned around at the sound of your footsteps, his eyebrows knitting as if he wasn’t expecting company, demeanor instantly softening the moment he saw your smile.

“You sure don’t waste much time.” He grinned, walking towards you and grasping your waist.

“I missed you.” You whispered, arms wrapping around his neck. “Haven’t seen you in a few days.”

“I know,” He began, his voice softening in remorse. “I’m sorry cara, my father called me home.”

Your chest tightened. His father didn’t often call him home, and when he did, well it wasn’t for any reason out of love to say the least. A hand fell from his neck to his chest, gently rubbing comforting circles, instinctively knowing he needed it.

“Is everything okay?” Your question was softly asked, not knowing if this was territory that should be touched.

“Of course,” He smiled warmly as his hand caressed your cheek, trying to ease your concerns. But, as always, you saw past the smile, his eyes telling you everything you needed to know. They had been still and cold, sunken into his skin with a purple tinge, his eyelashes stuck together like they had recently been wet. “just some family business. Nothing to worry about.”

“Theo,” You began, trying to push him.

“Hey, don’t worry about it alright? Everything is okay.” He placed a gentle kiss to your lips, holding you so close to him like you were the only thing allowing him to live. Kissing you so deeply as if you were his air. It was intoxicating. Wiping your brain clear, your body becoming warm and tingly.

He pulled away from you slowly, resting his forehead on yours, breathing you in as much as he could. Perfume invading his senses driving him half insane. He held you as close as possible, needing this moment with you needing you.

“I missed you so much.” Theo sighed against your lips. His soul finally able to rest around you.

“I missed you too.” You smiled, grabbing his forearms to pull his hands away from your face.

The further you pushed his arms away the further his cuff fell loose, slowly snaking down his arm. A flash of black on his skin caught your eye, your eyebrows furrowing tightly. Theo hadn’t mentioned a new tattoo, but then again he had been with his father so it very well could’ve been anything other.

“Theo what is-“ A gasp fell from your lips, your grip on his arm collapsing as you got a better look at the mystery ink. Your chest tightened as your heart sped up, basically pounding out of your chest. His eyes met yours with nothing but fear, his body freezing in the moment. The both of you staring at each other like statues across the museum galley from one another, time standing still, the world becoming silent around you.

Theo tugged his shirt cuff down, his hand finding your shoulder with a tight grip. “Y/n its not what you think please.” He pleaded, his eyes beginning to swell.

“Thats a dark mark Theo.” As if it wasn’t obvious. But it was all you could say. Your brain only comprehending the fact of what it was, not what it meant. You couldn’t see past the object, past it being on his skin. Theo’s dark mark. Theo’s dark mark.

You’d never seen one in person before. Never even come near to someone who had been a part of that. Sure you’d come to terms with knowing you were soon to run into one, probably having to fight for yourself. But never in a million of those thoughts did you think the person who you saw the most would have one. The one person who despised the look of it the most.

The sting in your stomach wasn’t from the fact of, but for Theo. God knows how often he thought about the inevitable moment his father would force him to do it. How in the few moments of vulnerability he’d breakdown in your arms, worrying he’d turn out like one of them. That he’d be one of them.

It was one of his biggest fears. Oftenly keeping him up at night, instinctively making him claw at his own skin like a rabid animal. Feeling as if he didn’t belong in the flesh that oh so closely resembled those of who he feared the most. He never wanted to turn out like them. Like his family.

Like his dad.

“I had no choice. I had to do it.” He choked out, his voice thick. His gaze fell from yours. Cheeks scrunching and eyes narrowing in attempt to hold back tears.

“Oh Theo,” Your voice was barely a whisper as you threw yourself against his chest, holding his head down into your neck. His arms wrapped around you tightly, chest heaving sporadicly. You felt the tears fall onto your skin, his walls breaking down faster than he was prepared for.

But he wasn’t prepared for any of this.

“I had no choice, I’m so sorry.” He kept repeating through sobs, barely able to catch his own breath. His grip around you never wavering once. You held him close, rubbing his back gently and stroking his hair to try and stabilize him.

“I know love I know. I am so sorry they made you do that.” You whispered in his ear. Peppering kisses where you could without moving his face from your shoulder.

“I don’t want to be this person. I don’t want to be like them.” His voice is what broke you most. Never had you heard it so coarse, his throat raw from the choked sobs leaving him. “I didn’t want this. I didn’t want any of this.” He continued, his voice weaker. His voice was giving up. He was giving up.

You let the silence around you two swallow you. The words that should be said not coming to mind, hoping your touch was enough to replace them.

What does one even say in a moment like this?

Theo’s grasp on you loosened, his hands falling to your sides as he backed away from your embrace. Concern consuming you as you watched his face tighten, the facade of a cold and distant Theo appearing.

It felt like a dagger was stabbed in your stomach.

It all felt like a dagger to your stomach.

But this, this part of him returning after spending so long trying to break him free of it whilst around you. That is what brought you to your breaking point.

Anger and hatred coursed through your veins, your blood boiling at the mere thought of what you wanted to do to Theo’s dad.

“You need to leave me.” Theo’s voice was cold. Direct. His fingers digging into your skin, holding you so tight, not wanting to let you go despite his words.

He didn’t want any of this.

“No, don’t you say that.” The dagger was turning, your body screaming in pain.

“It’s better for you.”

“You don’t really believe that.”

“You aren’t safe with me!” His voice raised, his anger about the whole situation finally coming out. His face softened as your body grew frigid, apologetic hands holding your face. “This, this changes everything. You know what they do, what they go through. I can’t put you in that danger.”

“You aren’t going through it alone Theo. I’ll be fine okay? I can hold for my own. We’re going to figure this all out together.” Your hands found their place above his, fingers interlocking.

“I won’t sacrifice your safety. I love you too much to let this affect you in any way.”

“And I love you too much to let you do this.” His eyes searched yours, trying to find something to tell of the future.

“Y/n please.”

“Theo! Listen to me! Im not giving up on us over this! Some part of us knew this would happen at some point. I understood it when I went all in. And Im all in! I’m with you in this! Let me be with you through this!”

“You’re going to end up hurt.” A stray tear fell down his cheek, eyes pleading to you.

“And I’m willing to take that risk. I’d crush my soul over and over again if it meant I’d get to have my happiest days with you. I will sacrifice my being for you to be the one I take my last breathe seeing.”

Theos eyes scanned your features, uncertainty washing over his face. He took a deep breath before pulling you close, lips smashing into yours. The kiss was hungry, passion filling you both whole. His touch burning into you, souls intertwining like the stars within a galaxy, dancing with each other under the moonlight. He pulled his lips away, just barely brushing over yours as he spoke.

“I’m so sorry ciccina.” And he was off. His gaze straight, never turning back to you as he walked into the tower, the door closing behind him with a loud bang.

You stood frozen, eyes blurring and legs weakening. Your mind completely blank of any thoughts just knowing you were hurt. So deeply indescribably hurt. A piece of your heart off and away without any hesitation.

Theodore Nott, the reason for your hearts beating, breaking it away from you, his grasp on it tight. That piece always belonging to him. Haunting him of the memory of you. His two demons interacting within the same night, both forever stuck with him until his last breath.

gonna be honest this once had a happy ending but then i got stuck and was like nah

ANYWAY FIRST HARRY POTTER FIC LETS GOOO

[corynation]

guys im so sorry but there is no part two for rumor has it 😭

they each had their own happy ending, it wasnt meant to be

[corynation]

me tbh

I’m a man, so I only cry at romantic comedies, sunsets, and people being mean to me in YouTube comments.

Ron Weasley, probably

[corynation]

[corynation]

I’m a man, so I only cry at romantic comedies, sunsets, and people being mean to me in YouTube comments.

Ron Weasley, probably

[corynation]

Requests open!

Requests are open for the following fandoms:

God of War

Resident Evil

911

[corynation]

Omg I have a THEODORE NOTT request for you

Super duper angst hurt comfort

Theo’s dad basically hurts the reader and sends her back to Theo as a warning to stay away from such mudbloods and its just heart wrenching guilt and hurt and tending to her wounds through treat

Song: Half a Man by dean lewis perhaps?

I already have.

✩Theodore Nott x Reader (request)

Summary: The one where Theo has the one person he loves the most hurt by his worst nightmare. Alternatively: He thinks he’d rather die than see you in pain.

A/N: I DID MANAGE TO DO IT BY TODAY!!! I’ll be responding to the next few requests soon. You said comfort but didn’t specify a happy ending 😺

Warnings: Mentions of Abuse, blood.

Theodore Nott never expected to fall in love.

It seemed rather bleak for him, to be honest. He didn’t have the time to think about love when he was too busy wrapped up in navigating the life he had ahead of him.

One couldn't blame him though. With his family as the only example of what love could be, he certainly didn't have a good impression.

Theodore could recall a single time when he had seen his father treat his mother with kindness or respect.

Let alone love? A truly laughable notion.

Theodore's father had not shown a single ounce of love to his wife, or Theodore. Even on that godforsaken day when Theodore had witnessed his mother die, his father had simply delivered a swift strike to his face and told him to ‘man up.’

So to put it simply, The absence of love in his family cast a shadow over his perception of relationships, making it difficult for him to fathom the idea of falling in love himself.

Then you came.

You came, and god, Theodore doesn't remember how he lived without you. It wasn’t a whirlwind love, a sort of fell fast and hard, rather you entered his life like a slow and steady rain, seeping through the foundations of Theodore's life till you had consumed them completely, crumbling them down against his own will.

It rained, and you became the quiet storm, soft yet unyielding.

Love came like the easiest thing when he met you. It wasn't foreign, or a distant concept; instead, it felt like the most natural and effortless occurrence in Theodore's life. Love with you was as simple and uncomplicated as breathing, a seamless rhythm that he hadn't known was missing until you came along.

You were more than shocked when Theodore admitted he didn’t think he could ever fall in love. The boy, who loved you as though he was born to (he argues he was), who would so tenderly kiss your forehead and hold your hand, not capable of love? The one who would leave his coat for you during the winter months and bring a spare scarf because, he knew you were stubborn, and he was worried you'd get sick, not deserving of love?

You kissed him deeply and made him swear he'd never think of that ever again.

You reminisced on Theodore like some sort of lovesick fool separated by war from their lover, though it was merely only the summer holidays. Whilst Theodore would want nothing more than to come with you, his father demanded his presence back at home. You knew little about Theodore's mother, and even less about his father. Anything leading up to a conversation about them would simply result in Theodore immediately redirecting the conversation, becoming a tad more guarded for the next day or so.

It’s not that he didn’t trust you, because he wholeheartedly did. He would place his beating heart in your hands even if you had a knife in the other, for he trusted you that much.

No, in fact, it was the very opposite. Theodore knew you, and he refused to let you ever get involved in that part of his life. He swore he would never let his father even lay his eyes on you.

He would have loved for his mother to have met you. He doesn't remember her that well, but he's sure, some sort of instinctive feeling within him, that she would have loved you.

You had been back in Hogsmeade a mere 2 days before school had started, to stockpile on some supplies for school.

Students were permitted to start returning to Hogwarts three days before school began, and you would always go back early, valuing having the near-empty castle. It meant you could settle back into a school routine comfortably, and have some time alone before school resumes.

It also gave you time to do stuff for Theodore. You didn't know much about what went on at his house, but assuming from the way he’d come back absolutely exhausted with bags under his eyes, you figured it wasn't good.

It seemed to be the same routine almost every time you'd come back - he comes over to your dorm (luckily for you, all your dormmates essentially lived in their boyfriend's dorms, as they were all friends with one another, so you had it all to yourself 99% of the time). He’d kiss you hello and wordlessly take off his shoes and jacket. You’d lie on your bed and he’d come lie on top of you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He would rest his head on your chest, the sound of your heartbeat soothing him, as he listened to you talk about your holidays till he fell asleep, feeling safe for the first time, unburdened by his worries.

He’d sleep, and you'd trace the furrow of his brow. You ached for the ability to just, alivieate him of everything he carried so close to him. But you knew that healing was a long journey, and you'd be there for him on the way.

You wander around a little bookstore, finding a book for you and Theodore to read. You paid for the copy, turning to leave the shop when you bump into a man.

You quickly offered a polite apology, even though his cold gaze and disdainful demeanour sent a chill down your spine.

Those eyes. They were oh so familiar to the very striking eyes of the boy you so loved. Come to think of it, the hair was the same too. Was this…..

"Watch where you're going, girl," he spat, his voice dripping with disdain

You clenched your jaw, swallowing the anger that threatened to surface. Keeping your composure, you replied evenly, "I apologize if I inconvenienced you, sir."

His eyes then flickered to the books in your hands, a sceptical look crossing his face. "You are a student at Hogwarts? What year?" he sneered.

You took a deep breath before responding, "Final year, sir."

Seeing an opportunity to shift the dynamics, you gestured towards Theodore's family resemblance. "You must be Theodore's father. The resemblance is striking."

His eyes narrowed, and he asked with an air of suspicion, "How do you know Theodore?"

You hesitated for a moment but decided to be honest. "We're dating."

Theodore's father raised an eyebrow, a mix of surprise and derision on his face. "Dating, are you?" he scoffed. "Tell me, girl, who are your parents? Perhaps I've heard of them."

A small smile tugs at your lips as you shake your head, responding. "I doubt you would know them. They're Muggles."

His expression darkened, and a look of pure contempt appeared on his face. "Muggles? Muggles?" He snarls, taking a step closer to you.

Theodore's father's face contorted with disgust, and his voice dripped with venom as he continued, "You, a pathetic Muggle, dare to pollute my son's bloodline? You're nothing but filth, tarnishing the Nott family name with your presence."

You felt a surge of anger and fear. This is what Theodore was trying to keep from you. That his family were prejudiced against your very existence.

Without warning, he roughly grabbed your arm, his grip tightening painfully. The pain shot through you, and you winced.

"Listen closely, Mudblood," he hissed, tightening his hold. "You're nothing more than a passing fancy for my son. If you have any sense, you'll sever ties with him before you bring further shame upon yourself."

Without a second to let you answer, he releases his grip on you, spinning on his heel as he storms out of the store. It takes you a second to recuperate and process what the fuck had just gone on before you turn and quickly dash out of the store, trying to catch a glimpse of his father. Sure enough, you spot him disappearing down a narrow alley.

Before you can stop to think, you chase after him, shouting as you do.

“Hey!” You snap, closing in on the distance.

Theodore was correct in one thing. He knew you well. And he knew that if you ever knew of his father, you’d get involved.

His father’s long black cloak billowed behind him, disappearing down a narrow alleyway that seemed to swallow his wrath. Fueled by a mixture of hurt and anger, you hurried after him, determined to address the injustice he had just unleashed.

Desperation laced your anger-fuelled shouts as you closed the distance. His brisk pace showed no signs of slowing, and as you reached out to grab his arm, the narrowness of the alley made it easy for him to turn around swiftly.

"How dare you touch me, you wretched Mudblood!" he hissed, his eyes ablaze with hatred.

Before you could react, he unleashed a hex.

It hit you with an intensity that sent a shockwave of pain radiating through your body. The force of the curse flung you backwards, and you collided with the cold stone wall, gasping for breath. A searing pain radiates throughout your body, and you cough, looking down. It was akin to some sort of slash, as though he had hit you with an invisible thing, a clean cut on your thigh, and arm. You see a drop of blood drip down onto your skirt and, dazed, bring your hand up to your face. You feel something wet, and when you pull your hand back it has a crimson red glistening on your fingertips, and-

oh.

There was a cut on your face too.

As you steadied yourself, you felt the searing pain intensify, a burning sensation spreading from the point of impact on your arm. Theodore's father approached with a malevolent satisfaction etched across his face. He looms over you, glaring down at you.

"You'd do well to heed my warning, Mudblood," he sneers, his voice low and menacing. "Stay away from my son, or next time, the consequences will be even more severe."

He cast a disdainful glance at your injured form before straightening up, his dark cloak billowing as he walked away without a second thought.

You took a deep breath, shuddering as you braced your palms against the cobblestone floor of the alleyway. You push yourself up, wincing as you try to ignore the throbbing pain in your body as you gingerly get up.

You gather your scattered belongings and look around, seeing nothing but the near-empty village. Summoning every ounce of strength, you began to limp back towards the castle, the weight of humiliation pressing down on your shoulders.

You felt exposed. The idea that Theodore had hidden such a massive thing from you, made you feel all the more humiliated.

You keep your head down and soon enough appear at Hogwarts. It doesn't give you the happiness it usually does, rather you just want to go back to your room and change, and sleep.

It was at this moment that you were rather glad that you decided to come back early, for you can only imagine the looks you'd get if it was packed full of students.

Exhausted, and simply just over it, you make your way up to the dorm. There are only two other students you spotted on the way, but they were far too busy snogging the daylights out of one another to notice you.

It reminded you of…

Theodore.

How would you face Theodore? Did you want to face Theodore?

No, you resolved, you didn’t. You couldn't comprehend keeping such a key detail from someone, let alone the person you loved. Why he did that to you, you’d never understand.

You unlock your dorm room door, dropping your bag at the door, You look up and to your utter confusion, see Theodore sitting on your bed. He looks up at you, the smile on his face very quickly replaced with a deep frown.

He gets up, and-

oh.

Never mind.

You did want to be near him.

You really wanted to be near him.

It was stupid really. You didn’t feel like crying at all, but the second you saw Theodore, that feeling very quickly resolved into the urge to bury your face into your chest, and not stop.

So you did.

Theodore's arms envelop you, and he holds you impossibly tight. He swears every sob that comes from you chips away at his being and he soothes you, rubbing your back as he holds you.

Theodore can count the number of times he's felt pure anger on one hand. Sheer rage. The type that consumes you from the inside out. Once when he was 8, and his mother passed away. He remembers hearing his father disregard the whole thing with such cruel indifference he felt as though a fire was blazing him from the inside out. As with many young wizards his age, he did not know how to control this magic.

He ended up setting fire to the library that day.

The second time, in 1st year, when Alicia Thornsby had made a cruel remark about Theodore’s home life.

“Well, my mother said that Theodore must have a horrible holiday. What, with his father being-” She starts, but she didn’t get to finish.

The teachers couldn’t comprehend under what vindication a child learnt a stinging hex strong enough to permanently mar the skin of the girl, but it was the first and last time anyone dared utter a word against Theodore.

That was the 2nd, and last time Theodore had felt unbridled rage, in his 18 years of life.

That was, until today.

Because, the sight of you, with blood on your cheek, sobbing into his chest, was enough to reignite that dormant flame of anger within Theodore.

“Who?” He manages to utter, voice strained.

You remain quiet, the silence punctuated by the occasional sniffle as you remain hidden in his chest.

He pulls back, lifting your chin. Your eyes are fixated on where the once-dried blood had washed onto his shirt, and he is fixated on you.

“Who?” He emphasises again, his eyes flickering down to the cut on your face. He runs his finger gently along the cut, and when he watches you wince he pauses, a flicker of pain crossing his face. The sight of you wincing, even at his gentle touch, shatters something within Theodore.

You hesitate before you speak, but ultimately, the words slip out of your mouth.

“Your father.”

The weight of those two words, "Your father," hung in the air, and for a moment, Theodore felt as if the very ground beneath him had crumbled.

His eyes widen momentarily, and he can't speak.

No, because there's a horrible feeling of fear, guilt, regret, perhaps a combination of all three, and it's lodged in his throat. It’s almost suffocating him, he can barely breathe, and it's constricting his airways.

The image of you, the person he held dearest, broken and bloodied, collided with the nightmare he had feared for years. He couldn't comprehend the cruelty his own flesh and blood had inflicted upon you, someone he cherished beyond measure. He speaks, and his voice is so heartbreakingly soft, a mere whisper weighed down by the burden of the truth that unfolded before him.

“I'm so, so sorry.” He utters, as though he prompted the hand that came down to hit you.

He believed he did. Because it was only by association, that you had been hurt by his father. That was why you were hurt, right?

His fault. All his fault. All his fault.

He has to take a deep breath and force himself to calm down and think.

Think.

His first priority was you. Always you. He leads you down to your bed and forces you to take a seat on the edge. You watch him as he disappears into the bathroom, reemerging with a damp washcloth in his hand. He kneels down in front of you, hesitating as he slowly lifts the hem of your skirt upwards slightly. He catches a glimpse of the gash on your thigh and that horrible feeling remerges again.

He gently wipes the cloth over the cut, leaning down to press a kiss on your skin. He mutters a few words, and with a small sharp pinch, the skin on your thigh begins to stitch up slightly. Not enough to fully heal, but to ensure it would in the future.

You don’t question how he knows exactly how to heal these wounds.

You know.

He does the same for your arm. Every second he stares at the cut, he feels his resolve shatter further and further, till he can tell whether he wants to cry or ensure the murder of his father with his own hands.

His hands come up to your face, and he lets out a shaky breath. He is ashamed to even look you in the face,

His own reflection of guilt and regret is etched into his features. He keeps his eyes focused on the task at hand, tending to the wounds inflicted upon you by the person who Theodore swore would never even set his gaze on you.

The room is filled with an anguished silence as Theodore continues his ministrations.

As he tends to your injuries, Theodore's mind is a battleground of self-recrimination. The echoes of your sobbing, the memory of your blood on his shirt, haunt him like a relentless ghost. "I'm so, so sorry," he whispers again, the words heavy with remorse as if he could somehow atone for the sins of his family.

With each stitch on your wounds, he feels the seams of his composure unravelling.

When he finally lifts his gaze to meet yours, the vulnerability in his eyes is palpable. The shame he feels is evident.

You muster a weak smile, a hand coming up to cup his face. Your thumb brushes against his cheek lovingly as you speak, your voice calm.

“It's not your fault,”

He wants to cry.

It is. It is his fault.

Theodore pulls you into an embrace, holding you tightly against his chest. The warmth of his embrace is both comforting and suffocating, a paradox of love and guilt; a conflict that threatens to tear him apart.

As Theodore lies down with you, the weight of his guilt still hangs in the air. He holds you as if trying to shield you from the world. He utters words of apology, repeating the words like a mantra.

“I love you.”

But amidst the soothing cadence of his voice, there's an undercurrent of resolution. The conflict within Theodore reaches its zenith, and a painful decision emerges. He knows he can't risk his father ever hurting you again. The love he feels for you clashes with the harsh reality of his future.

Theodore's grip tightens for a moment as if trying to hold onto the fleeting moments of solace. Yet, with a heavy heart, the decision he has to make is almost clear.

“It isn't your fault. Don't apologise.” You whisper, curled into his arms.

“It is. It's all my fault. I got you involved in this,” He utters, as though the admission is poison on his tongue.

“I’m not a good person. I have a horrible family, and he’ll want me to do horrible things, and I’ll have to do them.” He admits, voice breaking.

“No, you don’t. I’m here. I love you, Theodore. I won’t ever leave, and I swear you won’t deal with that alone.” You repeat, voice laced with conviction.

“I'm beyond help. Don’t give your heart to me.” He croaks.

You lift your head up from where it was resting, eyes gazing directly into his. You remain silent for a beat, then two, before you speak.

“I already have.” You respond.

Theodore should feel relief at those words, but he doesn't. Rather, he feels sick. Because he can’t, he won't risk you getting hurt again. He kisses you and pulls you back in, laying next to one another as he wraps his arms around you and holds you tightly, if only for one last night.

Because there was only one thing Theodore could do to make sure his father would never hurt you again.

He had to leave you.

[corynation]