#I don’t remember how to spell its name sorry

[what-the-fuck-khr]

Happy New Year from Amano! 🎉

[backmuscles21]

Providing

Tsu'tey x Reader

Summary: Just some fluff about Tsu'tey being a good mate while still being rude to everyone else.

Tsu’tey called himself a provider, he was a provider of many things to many people. He provided for his clan, his family, and his home but he’d never provide for anyone more than you. He prided himself on being the best mate ever and being able to protect you and provide for you. You would tell him constantly that he was the best mate anyone could ask for, it only served to inflate his ego further.

However, one thing Tsu’tey hated, you were so different from him and not just because you were a girl but because you were human still. Now you did have an avatar, you have mated with him before Eywa, but you did want to wait before fully transferring over your consciousness completely. You and Norm enjoyed getting to have a human side still. Tsu’tey hated it, he hated that when you fell asleep you weren’t really there with him. Don’t get me wrong, caring for two bodies is a challenge and sometimes you do wish that you didn’t have to. Tsu’tey hated that sometimes you’d sleep in or something and he’d have to go to the sky people and see you. He also hated when you got sick or something and then you wouldn’t link in for a while, he hated not having you in your avatar body.

Like today, you stayed up really late doing some paperwork and science experiments with some plants and you may have gone to bed at like four in the morning. The Na’vi were early risers for the most part, so when you weren’t up at around nine, Tsu’tey came to you. He walked over to the scientists’ tents and metal home base with his usual scowl on his face. He hated being over here with the humans, he warmed up to the sky people once he got to know you and Jake but he still didn’t love being by a whole bunch of them.

He walked up to the metal door, crouched down to get inside and grabbed one of the breathing masks. He walked into the lab and saw some faces he recognized not that he cared about any of them.

“Hey Tsu’tey,” Norm said as he brought his fingers to his forehead to sign ‘I see you’ which Tsu’tey returned out of respect.

“I’m looking for my mate.”

“She’s in her room.”

Tsu’tey stayed quiet, he didn’t know where your room was or at least couldn’t remember.

“It’s at the back, first right. You’ll see her name on the door.”

Tsu’tey nodded as he headed to your room with the directions given to him. He saw your name on the door, after you showed him how to spell your name and what your name being written out in English looked like, and entered the room. Boy, you were a sight for sore eyes, you had kicked some of the sheets off your body in your sleep. Your arms were raised and your head rested on its side as you lay on your back. You looked so peaceful and so soft, Tsu’tey couldn’t help but smile and brush the back of a finger on your cheek.

You stirred lightly, Tsu’tey placed a hand on your exposed stomach, his hands were so warm. Since Pandora was so hot, you wore next to nothing to sleep, your short shorts and cropped tank top revealed a lot of skin. Tsu’tey wasn’t bothered by it, not to mention he liked to feel your soft and smooth skin. His large hand was the size of your torso, his hand splayed on your stomach dwarfing you compared to him.

He decided to kiss you awake, he kissed your forehead then your stomach. He felt your legs move and watched as your face contorted and you whined as you were being woken from your slumber. Your eyes opened slowly and you looked at the blue giant kneeling by your bed, you smiled at him and stretched. You move to sit up a little and kiss his cheek, he pulls you right off the bed and into his lap. He held you close to his large body and you snuggled into him.

“I missed you this morning.”

“Sorry, I was up late.”

“I told you not to do that.”

“But I was making good headway.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“I’m sorry Tsu’tey, how could I ever make it up to you.”

“Be with me forever.”

“I already am.”

He kissed your cheek and you giggled slightly, he kissed you a few more times as you giggled and squirmed in his hold. His large hands held onto your tiny body as you held onto his much larger and longer arms.

You finally decided to get up out of bed, you stretched and grabbed your water bottle by your bed. You drank the little bit left inside before the sound of you sucking in air through the straw could be heard. You went to leave your room to get more water for your water bottle before Tsu’tey wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Where are you going?”

“Just to get more water.”

“I’ll get it for you.”

“It’s fine Tsu’tey, really.”

“I am your mate and I can provide for you.”

“Do you even know where the water cooler is?”

“I can find it.”

“Well, all the power to you then,” you hand him your water bottle and sit on your bed as he leaves, you knew there was no fighting with him on it.

He leaves your room and walks to where all the scientists are.

“You,” Tsu’tey points at Norm, “where do I find the water to fill this?” Tsu’tey showed him your water bottle he held.

“I can fill it up for you.”

“No, I can fill it myself for my mate.”

“It would probably be easier if I-“

“Just show me where it is.”

“It’s back down the same hallway as the bedrooms, but it will be the room without a door. You see the jug with the water in it. Just push the little handle down.” Tsu’tey didn’t entirely understand but he was nothing if not a good mate.

Tsu’tey went and searched for the contraption the human talked about, once he found what he presumed was the machine, he kneeled down and his large hand held your water bottle and his single finger pushed down on the lever. He felt so silly for doing things this way when he could go out and forge you fresh water with no problem.

He felt too big for this place and really, he was, it was made for at best a six-foot frame, he was like quadruple that. He went back to your room and handed you your water bottle, you had sat up on your bed and Tsu’tey sat on the floor in front of you. You smiled at him and took a big drink.

“Thank you.”

“Anything for my mate.”

[t44ovely]

Screwed up - Jude bellingham

Description: Jude bellingbam x reader, were Jude screw ups a little, but reader has her tricks. (Very short)

Tw: none that i could name?

A/n: Hi im a new writer and this is my first write so please be kind, if theres ideas or maybe even advices tell me please im open minded! Enjoy reading, sending hugs and love. ❣️ps. Im not english so there might be some spelling errors…sorry.

You’re sitting in a small bar only a few people, bartender and then you. You’ve been waiting there for a good ten minutes for him to show up, your boyfriend, Jude bellingham. Your new couple, been dating just good few months so nothing too serious.

”Can i offer you something while your waiting pretty lady?” The bartender asks getting you out of your thoughts. ”Ohh, maybe margarita.” You say with a little smile on your lips. He nods and goes to make your margarita.

You sit there for few good minutes before the margarita is set in front of you, ”heres your drink lady, no hurry in paying” he gives you a sympatic smile and goes leaving you there. Alone because judes late, you just hoping he will even remember this date happening today.

You take a sip of your drink, thinking that maybe his phone died and hes stuck at traffic, even tho clock is nearly 10pm.

You took another sip after few minutes and check if he would have message you, still nothing.

Its now 10.28pm, hes almost hour late, no text, no call, nothing. You start to get little worried if something has happend, but then you hear the door bell of the bar, you look over your shoulder and there he is.

You get up of your barchair and stand up strait, looking at him, the handsome face, he has little smile on his face, looking you up and down. ”Im so sorry y/n, so so sorry and i-i don’t know how to make this up to you and oh god you even look amazing ” he says looking at the floor, you take a few steps closer to him, now you looking at the floor too, ”well i guess im sorry too cause now you have to take me to maledivies, cause you DEFINITELY screw up a little” taking your eyes up of the floor.

”Lets make a promise” you say looking at Jude while your sitting next to each others in his couch, he moves to look at you ”ohh really, what promise are we gon make my love” he puts that smirk of his on his face looking back at the tv.

”If you screw up NO matter what it is you take me to somewhere nice and same if i screw up i have to take you where ever you want, deal?” You look at him with proud smile on your face.

”I will anyways take you anywhere you want you know that?” Now facing back at you. ”Yeah i know, but can we still make a deal?” You looking him with puppy eyes, he looks at you with same kind of face and takes his little finger ready for pinky promise.

”Pinky promise” Jude says.

”Pinky promise” you say.

He takes his eyes of the floor to look at you, meeting that pretty smile of yours that he loves.

”God you almost make me have a hearattack” he says taking you to his arms, giving you a big hug. ”Glad just almost, otherwise i wouldn’t be going to maledives soon” you laugh at his chest.

”You’re annoiyng you know that?” Jude says loosing up a little looking down at you, you look up to him ”yeah i know, but at least i don’t have to pay my trip by myself” you look him with proud smile and letting yourself out his grip going back where you were before he shoud up.

”Now you can tell me why’re you late Mr. Bellingham” you say while sitting back, he sits next to you ”well lemme tell you why Mr. Bellingham is late to you Mrs. Bellingham” he says smirking.

[darlingdaisyfarm]

Howdy! Jdjdjfh I hope you're still taking Gravity Falls Stan/Ford requests--

What if the reader and Ford/Stan (separate) were married, but the reader suffered a traumatic head injury in a car accident? This injury causes them to be unable to retain memories for more than a day. Every morning, they wake up next to this mysterious, handsome man who has to explain to them that they are married—and have been for years. The reader can't help but feel guilty about this situation. :( We need some lovey-dovey comfort

Sorry if this is long or complicated kfhfkfh thank you for your time!!

Have a good day/night :)) 💗 love your writing so much

you’ll always remember | Stanley Pines x reader

tags: sfw, memory loss, established relationship

a/n: hi, lovely anon! thank you for sending this in and for your sweet words!💗 this little piece focuses on Stan for now. but don’t worry, i’ve got something equally heartfelt coming for Ford too, ill post it a lil bit later

thank you for trusting me with your emotions and have a beautiful day/night, darling!

Ford version

you open your eyes and the next thing you feel is headache, your head feels. . . way too heavy, but sadly, not from oversleeping or the nice kind from sleeping in. it’s different type of pain. 

you rub your eyes, feeling lost and blink around the room, with fear realising you don’t understand where you are. your messy thoughts are interrupted by the bed creaking when you sit up and your heart does this awful little jump when you see him.

this man.  

this. . . mysterious man with a broad chest, an old tank top clinging to it. there’s golden chain around his neck, glinting against the soft peppered hairs of his chest. 

and you. . . you don’t know him.  

your stomach twists immediately. the room doesn’t look familiar, either, nothing does. these stacks of magazines, mugs, a nightstand that’s barely holding itself together. you hear a faint sound of birds outside, but even that won’t calm your mind 

“mornin’, sweetheart, sleep okay?”  

your heart lurches, panic curling up your throat. you try to get up from bed, but everything feels too heavy and weird, your body barely listens to you, your limbs hurt

you freeze, looking a bit scared, but more than all confused. “who— who are you?” 

Stanley sighs, nodding at your words, agreeing with you. it’s not the first time he’s heard it. you can tell from the way his face falls, his smile disappearing, but then he covers it up with a gentle grin

“right. uh, this part,” he mutters, scratching the back of his neck. “okay, so. you don’t remember me. look, baby, my name’s Stan. Stanley Pines. i’m your husband.”

your what?

“yeah, i know. sounds like a bad joke, but it’s true. you’ve got, uh. . .” he avoids your wide-eyed stare. “you’ve got a thing. memory stuff. from the accident. doc says you won’t remember much past a day. it’s been like this for a while now, heh.”

his tone doesn’t sound all that happy, because for Stanley it’s just as hard as it is for you. he explains it like it physically pains him to spell all this shocking nonsense out for you.

“i know this ain’t fair to you. shit, it ain’t fair to either of us. but i’m here. i’ll always be here, ‘kay? even if you wake up every day thinkin’ i’m some creep who wandered in off the street.” 

you just look at him, unable to understand what he’s talking about after the word “husband”. husband. . . gosh, feels like your brain just started to hurt more. your mind scrambles, clawing at the edges of something it can’t reach, no matter how hard you try.

“don’t— don’t look so freaked out, kid,” Stan says quickly, seeing your panic. “here, look—”  

he reaches for something on the nightstand, hoping each time that it will work. Its an old picture frame, a little bit worn, but when he holds it out with a hopeful look, you see yourself in it. laughing. leaning into him. his arm’s slung around your shoulder as he grins, his fez perched crookedly on his head. 

“that’s us,” Stan says softly, watching your reaction. “took that on our anniversary, up at lookout point. you love that spot, always goin’ on about the view. even dragged me up there at sunrise once.” he chuckles, but his eyes are watching you carefully, he’s waiting you to give some reaction, please just. . . please. he waits to see that beautiful smile of yours he always loved so much and you want to smile. you want to remember. 

but there’s nothing.  

corners of your mouth lowers and your chest tightens, guilt bubbling up inside. “i. . .” wait, what was his name again? damn. “don’t remember that. i don’t remember you.”

Stan’s smile wobbles for half a second before he catches it. “yeah, i figured. but that’s okay. s’not your fault, sugar.”  

you hate that. you hate how kind he is about it, how patient, but at the same time how broken his voice sounds.

Stanley sighs, rubbing at his face, trying to scrub away years of exhaustion. then he looks at you again.

with hope in his eyes.

“here, how about this?” he says suddenly, brightening. he pulls open the nightstand drawer and takes out another photo, this one of you, him and some. . . kids? it’s twins, a boy and girl in some funny looking sweater, both with brown hair, all of you standing by the lake. you’re holding up a huge fish, grinning from ear to ear, and Stan’s standing behind you with his hands on your shoulders looking so damn proud of his lovely little human.

“this was last summer,” Stan tells you, tapping the glass with his thumb. “we went fishin’. you caught that sucker all by yourself. wouldn’t stop braggin’ for weeks.”

a faint smile appears on your lips. 

“still got the tackle box you picked out, too,” Stan adds with a laugh. “you said the one i had was too ‘junkyard chic.’ you’ve got a sharp tongue on ya, y’know that?”  

your fingers tremble as you reach to take photo from his hands. you look at it, look at that person who looks like you, with a smile’s brighter than the sun and these eyes. . . sparkling, as if you’ve just heard the funniest joke in the world.

“i’m sorry,” you whisper, staring down at your hands. tears spilling down your cheeks. “i- i don’t know how you do this. every day. i can’t- i can’t even remember, Stan.”

the first time you said his name. 

“hey, hey.” his hand comes up, hovering over your shoulder, rubbing it slightly to calm you. he’s not sure if it’s okay to touch you yet, he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but you look up and he’s already leaning closer. “don’t you dare apologize for this, sweetheart. you didn’t ask for it. none of this is your fault, y’hear me?”  

you nod weakly, but he isn’t done.  

“you’re still you. still the same stubborn, beautiful, funny, smart, pain-in-the-ass i fell for, okay? you’re stuck with me, like it or not. you take all the time you need, honeybun. i’m not goin’ anywhere.”

you nod, still doubting, lowering your eyes to that photo again. 

“now, how about we get some breakfast? you always say my stancakes are the best damn thing in oregon.” Stan smiles at you because you’re his whole world. and even though the pieces don’t always fit in your mind, Stanley still loves you with this kind of affection that’s lived a thousand lifetimes and he knows, somewhere deep in your mind, you love him too. he just gotta try a bit harder.

when you meet his eyes, for the first time, you feel something painfully familiar deep inside of you. as if he’s the one you’d always reach for in a sea of faces. and you laugh softly

“i say that, huh?” 

“every time,” noticing that little change in your voice, Stan grins and winks at you. “c’mon, let me prove it to ya, baby.”

even though your head’s a mess and your heart feels like it’s been put through a blender, you want to believe him. you take his hand, noticing a ring around his finger and only now you realise you are wearing one too

….

“but what if i never remember?” you ask as you trace the edges of his beautiful face with trembling fingers, trying to commit it to memory.

he just smiles and wraps his big hands around your waist.

“then i’ll just remind ya every day. as long as it takes.”

[dearly-somber]

Oh No! | j.jk

-> pairing. wolf shifter!jungkook x human!reader (f)

-> genre. fluff, f2l, first-kiss, university!au, werewolf/shifter!au

-> rating. 13+

-> w/c. 1376

-> warnings. a tad suggestive at the end!

-> a/n. Sharp Teeth is nearing its end, my loves 😪 One last installment before the end of the main series 🥹🫶🏻

-> collection. mini-series

-> started. Sept. 14th, 2024 @ 16:54

-> fin. Sat., Aug. 3rd, 2024 @ 00:31

-> edited. Sun., Aug. 4th, 2024 @ 22:07

-> divider credit. @mmadeinheavenn

Oh no! your brain says. I’m kissing my best friend! Whatever shall I do?

Run away, it seems.

Your first thought was woah, and before you could think I want to do that again, you were already running upstairs, the distant sound of your name being called only partially breaking through the panicky mist clouding your senses.

You just kissed Jungkook for the first time and it was for a fucking dare. What? How the fuck even did you let that happen?

It’s like one second you were laughing as the pack was being dared to do funky shit like moon the person next to them or call a random number so they could imitate the sound of an elk, and the next you were sitting like a frightened deer as Yoongi, that bastard (affectionate), dared you to kiss the person to your left.

Jungkook.

Jungkook, who was sitting to your left, his eyes wide and round and pretty and—god, why was he licking his lips?

“Uh,” he said, turning to you with cheeks bright-red from drinking too much, although you wondered if maybe it was because of something else. “Y-you—you don’t have to if you don’t wanna,” he whispered, his tongue dragging slowly over his lower lip as if he was trying to seduce you.

You cleared your throat, your whole body on fire with nerves as you shook your head and leaned toward him. “No,” you said decidedly. “No, let’s do it.”

“Wait, really?” Jimin asked, his eyes flitting between you and Jungkook at a rapid pace.

“Y-yeah,” you shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant despite feeling everything but. “As long as Jungkook is okay with it.”

Jungkook’s Adam’s Apple bobs and you try really hard to stare only a normal amount.

“Okay,” he squeaked.

He watched you with sparkling eyes as you leant forward, entering his space in ways you never thought you’d want to, but now craved like you craved a hot chocolate on a cold day—fervently, obsessively, like you’d be better off having it than not.

You kissed him.

It was wonderful and great and you almost lost yourself in it, but the smallest gasp from the person to your right (you can’t even remember their face) broke your spell…

“Fuck,” you whisper, pulling at your hair. “Fuck!”

You can’t believe that your first kiss with Jungkook happened during a game of dare in front of all your friends and his family.

Fuck.

“Y/N?”

You swivel around with wide eyes. Jungkook steps cautiously into the room as you wrap your arms around yourself, feeling unnaturally nervous when he closes the door gently behind him.

“Can we talk?” he asks, voice low and uncertain. You bite your lip but nod your consent, frozen in place even as Jungkook comes to stand in front of you. “I—“

“I’m so sorry,” you blurt before he can finish his thought, your hands flying out as you nervously wave them around. “Christ, Kook. I don’t know what I was thinking—”

“Bunny—“

“I’m so sorry.” Your feet unfreeze as you walk circles around him, ending with your back to the door. “I was just feeling tipsy and overly adventurous and- and—”

“Y/N.”

Jungkook grabs your hands, a soft, boyishly nervous smile on his face. “It’s okay,” he says softly.

Despite your relief, your stomach still drops to your feet. “It is?” you whisper.

He nods with a gentle hum, his eyes darting down to your lips and back up again. “I… really, really like you,” he exhales, his entire body seeming to deflate with the confession.

“I’ve liked you for a really long time now, and I know this may not be the best way to say it, but…” He takes a deep breath to hide his nerves, but the hopeful smile never leaves his face. “I think… maybe…?” He trails off slowly, maintaining eye contact as he waits for you to either confirm or deny what you know is him nonverbally saying that he’s noticed your emotional shift.

And god, does that scare you.

“Jungkook…”

“What?” he whispers. “What is it?” His face falls so suddenly that you wonder if it’s possible to feel phantom pain from an expression alone. “Do you… do you not like me back?”

“No, Jungkook, I…”

He defeatedly lowers his head, slowly letting go of your hands as he takes a shaky step back, exhaling hard. “But I thought…”

“Jungkook—“

He shakes his head, looking up like he’s trying not to cry. “It’s fine. That’s fine. We can just… we can just forget this happened—“

“No!” you yell suddenly, the nerves and alcohol in your system finally bubbling over even though Jungkook’s wide-eyed and confused deer-in-headlights look makes your knees feel weak. “We can’t forget this happened because that will fucking kill me.”

Jungkook blinks, slow and surprised and trying desperately to hop on the roller coaster your emotions seem to be taking you on. “What—?”

“I love you,” you say, nervous and giddy and scared but so fucking relieved, “I love you and I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long now and it was so good I won’t be able to stop thinking about it until it happens again, I just—” You take a deep breath, your heartbeat pounding against the back of your throat and the bass of your skull and the tips of your fingers. “I just can’t believe our first kiss happened during a game of dare,” you whisper.

Jungkook opens his mouth, but you speak before he has the chance to: “I know it’s dumb and petty and childish and all those other things, but I just… I really wanted it to be special.”

You breathe.

You ruminate in the tummy-churning silence that makes you almost nauseous until you finally take a step toward him.

You stand toe-to-toe, your noses touching as your chests heave almost in sync. Jungkook’s hands are stiff by his sides, your hands shaking where they take him by the shoulders.

“That does not take away from the fact that I really, really like you,” you whisper.

You exhale against his mouth, standing on the tips of your toes to finally press your lips to his.

The kiss itself doesn’t do anything particularly magical—you note that his lips are cushiony-soft and taste faintly of raspberry, but that’s it. No fireworks, no sparks, no the-world-stood-still-for-a-moment feeling in the center of your chest.

You know what does feel magical?

Jungkook’s hand at the back of your neck. Jungkook’s shoulders relaxing as he leans deeper into the kiss, his nose pressing against your cheek. Jungkook pulling you against him, pressing your chests together and letting out what you know by now is an excited whine.

You smile into the kiss, letting your hands slide up and into his hair, letting your nails drag across the nape of his neck. Jungkook shivers with a shaky sigh against your lips, attacking your mouth more fervently.

You make a surprised noise in the back of your throat when Jungkook pushes you back, nearly tripping over your own feet if not for his hand sitting firm on the small of your back. You grunt when you’re pushed roughly against the bedroom door, eating up Jungkook’s noises like a woman starved.

He groans into your kiss when you teasingly pull on his hair, kissing you so hard your teeth knock together.

It feels like forever before he lets you come up for air, resting your foreheads together as you catch your breath. You slide your hands around his face, gently squeezing the lobe of his ear—he whines loud and grips your sides a little harder—before you cup his face and guide his head back enough for you to look at him.

He’s panting and open-mouthed and shaking, his eyes blown so wide you struggle to pinpoint where his pupils start and his irises begin. Loose strands of disheveled hair hang in front of his eyes, long lashes framing his perfectly round cheeks…

“You’re so beautiful,” you mutter. “I don’t tell you enough.”

Jungkook licks his lips, bringing his hand to your face so he can run his thumb over your bottom lip. “You’ll have all the time in world,” he promises, “but for now…”

“Don’t stop kissing me.”

<- prev | next ->

[fluffy-fics]

VI X Reader (PART 2)

BARTENDER VI MODERN AU (PART 2)

Part 1

(Vi x fem reader)

(INFO: Vi is 30, you are 30 too)

2 days had passed since your last trip to the bar, and you were ecstatic about today. Something inside you yearned for the smell of sweet cedar that had clung to Vi, and to see the way she expertly poured drinks. Something about the way light reflected off of her arms and biceps as she worked made butterflies jolt in your stomach.

You walk into the bathroom of your small apartment, staring into a mirror as you adjusted your hair and clothing to look perfect, as perfect as it was gonna be atleast. 

You sigh, and flash yourself a smile, bounding outside the apartment complex and getting into your car, starting down the asphalted streets and keeping your eyes peeled for The Last Drop. Suddenly a flicker of green light up ahead caught your eyes as you traced letters across a wooden sign that spelled out the name of the bar. A sensation tingles up your spine as you survey the nearby parking lot for open spots, being a tad more packed then you would have expected. 

You finally find an open spot, park, and feel cool air hit your face as you walk out of the veichle, eagerly walking, more like sprinting into the bar. The aroma of alcohol burns the back of your throat once more as you walk through the door, a crowded scene erupting into your vision. Your eyes scan the area, looking for the bartop, and when you find it the feeling of excitement within you stalls for a moment. There is no bartender behind the counter, only the colourful bottles of booze that illuminate the bar with life. You feel your body still push forwards towards the table, taking a seat at the same stool you sat at last time.

Your eyes search for any trace of Vi, hoping to see her hair peaking through the crowd, your nose hoping for just a small taste of the cedar that had entranced you last time. But as you turn around to face the bar, you feel a small tap on your shoulder. You whip around, hope streaming through your body as you see a light tattoo. 

“Are you y/n?” 

You freeze. How does this person know your name? Her outfit is interesting, a leather top with lacing in an X formation, long purple plaid pants underneath a large belt, accompanied by 2 long blue braids of hair. You froze as you saw a shape move behind her, but felt relieved as you realized it was just a small child, brown-orange hair with blue hair colour at the tips.

“Yeah? What’s it to you.” You respond, coming off much more hostile sounding than intended. 

“I’m Jinx, Vi’s little sister. She has been gushing to me about you, but she hasn’t been feeling well. She’s being a HUGE baby about it, I really think it’s just a minor cold, but whatever.” Jinx hands you a small slip of paper, putting a hand on the little one’s head as she pulled on Jinx’s braids. You unfold the crisp paper, gazing at a phone number. 

“Thank you.” You say, sighing with relief that Vi remembered about you as you put the number into your phone. 

“Aaaaanny time- c’mon Isha.” She murmurs to the child, the two walking out of the bar. Hesistantly, you send a message to the number.

You: Vi? Is this the right number?

…

No response.

You: Hello?

…

Vi: Yeah, it’s Vi. I’m so sorry I couldn’t make our little date today, I felt really awful and didn’t want to make anybody else sick, especially you. 

You: Its alright! Please don’t stress, I appreciate the thought and hope you feel better soon <33

Vi: Awhh~ thanks cupcake. I appreciate it. If you’d like to stop by sometime, maybe when I’m not as sick as I am, I’d love to have you over!- 

You read the screen as an address gets sent. Your heartbeat picks up, and excitement wiggles through your stomach. 

You: Can we meet soon? When do you think you’ll feel better??

Vi: Maybe on Friday, 6pm? I think this thing will blow over relatively quick. 

You graze your schedule, seeing that you’d have to work earlier on Friday but should still have enough time to go home and get ready before 6. 

You: Yeah! That works!

Vi: See you then, cupcake~

You don’t know why the word flusters you as much as it does, but you DO know that you love seeing, and hearing that word spoken to you, especially when Vi is the one saying it. Or writing it.

“I’ll see you soon.” You whisper to the phone, giddy with excitement once more, but ultimately hoping that this time you’d be able to meet up for sure. 

[scribbly-artist]

Unwrap Your Present

Summary: Viktor has forgotten it’s Valentine’s Day, and hasn’t caught on to the numerous hints Jayce has dropped. Jayce wants his actions to make Viktor realise, not his words. He takes a risk and takes the Hexclaw home with him and some red present tape with a new plan that will send the message across to Viktor for sure. Viktor comes home after a while, and sees a peculiar sight in front of him…

Author’s Notes: My longest fic yet, yippee! It took me a while to write, so I hope you all like it. I’ve been sending little teasers of the fic on the server to be just a little mean, mwahaha. Hoping you all have a lovely Valentine’s Day. :)

Words: ~3,400 | AO3 Link

Today is Valentine's Day, and Jayce had remembered. 

But it appears Viktor forgot that it was actually today. 

Usually, Jayce would be fine with this. It's not like Viktor had celebrated this holiday in the past. But Jayce wanted to show his love for Viktor, and he was hoping for the same in return.

Don't get Jayce wrong, he was definitely showing how much he loved and cared for Viktor like on any normal day, plus more. Jayce brought Viktor sweetmilk and breakfast in bed when he woke up. He's been giving him hugs and little squeezes throughout the day. He has been dropping subtle hints, but it didn't seem to be getting to Viktor in the way he had hoped. 

Was Jayce not doing a good enough job? Does his love and appreciation for Viktor not stand out when he's doing even more for him? Maybe Viktor hadn't noticed because Jayce is lovey-dovey and touchy feely any day of the week. He wanted Viktor to know that today in particular was a special day, but he wanted Viktor to figure it out himself not through Jayce’s words, but his actions.

However, with so many attempts at trying to get his point across, he was getting a little nervous and also a bit agitated. How else could he paint a clearer picture? Did he have to spell it out to him? Which led him to his current dilemma and struggle. 

Viktor noticed this. 

“Are you… alright, Jayce?” Viktor had asked hesitantly, turning around from the blackboard to Jayce who clearly wasn't concentrating. 

He looked lost in his own thoughts, but perked up hearing his name. 

“O-Oh, yes, sorry.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow. 

“You've been acting strange all day. More strange than usual. Are you sure?”

“Yes! Y-Yes, I’m fine. Just thinking about all our new plans for Hextech!” 

Jayce wasn’t the greatest at lying, the nervous pink tint to his cheeks betrayed his words. Viktor could see right through him.

Viktor raised his eyebrow, visibly seeing sweat collect on Jayce’s brow. He turned his attention back around to the blackboard, starting to scribble new equations upon it without a further response.

Jayce’s head was spinning. He was getting a little frustrated, not at Viktor, but at himself. How could he make it more obvious? His eyes scanned the lab, maybe one of their previous Hextect devices could help him in these trying times…

And then his eyes laid upon it, positively beaming as ideas and opportunity flooded his brain.

The Hexclaw.

Jayce made his way over to it, grabbing it in a tight hold along with the accompanying glove. He then took one of the spare Hextech gemstones and popped it in his pocket.

“Hey, I’m gonna, uh, take this home with me to do some experiments with.” Jayce called out.

Viktor turned around once again, eyebrows raising once he saw what his partner was taking with him. “You can’t be serious? We’ve never taken our Hextech devices off academy grounds, Jayce. Why can’t you just do your experiments here, in the lab?”

“I, uh— need to test out its fine motor skills. Putting dishes away without breaking them, tidying up spaces for people who need help. Things that we don’t have the means or preparation to do here,” he tried to make a plausible lie, but he could see Viktor looking through him with suspicion as if he were glass. “Look, it‘ll be fine! Nothing to worry about. I just want to get the most accurate results for the Hexclaw, and the best way to do that is to have it do more… meticulous tasks.”

Viktor only stared at Jayce in silence until he shook his head. “...alright then.”

And then Jayce was off, darting out of the lab. He got a couple strange looks from passerby as he lugged the Hexclaw throughout the academy halls to the entrance. On the way out, he had to grab a long roll of wide present tape, a present bow as well as some pretty roses from the florist. 

He rushed home, putting his plan into action. 

First, he tidied up the place. Who would want to come to a messy home after work? He changed into some lighter clothes, a nice long sleeve and some sweatpants, and then started scattering rose petals everywhere. In the living room and in the bedroom mainly. He had to set the mood, after all. He would have liked to have set up some candles for some mood lighting, however that would be irresponsible of him with his next step.

He got the Hexclaw set up, glove and gemstone included. He didn’t need it right away, but he would soon.

Situating himself on the couch, he started his pièce de résistance: wrapping himself up like a nice Valentine’s Day present, ready to be unwrapped once Viktor got home.

Jayce started at his ankles, figuring that was the easiest place to start this off, wrapping and layering the nice red present tape up his legs. Not too tight where his blood would be cut off, but tight enough that he wouldn’t really be able to move. Then he wrapped higher, up to his torso. The tape wrapped around his body snuggly. But he needed to wrap his arms and hands up, which is where the Hexclaw came in. 

Jayce slipped the Hexclaw glove on, placing the Hextech gemstone in its holder. He was a bit sloppy with navigating the metal appendage, as this was more so Viktor’s project than his, but he’s a fast learner. 

He grabbed more of the wrapping tape with the Hexclaw, positioning his arms to be outstretched above his head. It was a bit tricky to tie his arms up like this, but he used what he could of his hands, and even at one point his teeth, to tighten the tape around his arms, and then his wrists. 

Once he was all nicely wrapped up, he navigated the Hexclaw to stick a nice little bow just above the bend of his elbow. Jayce managed to push the gemstone out of the glove and slide the glove off with some patience, both plonking down onto the soft couch.

He admired his work for a moment in silence.

He was ready to be a great Valentine’s Day present. All he had to do was sit and wait until his love came home.

~~~

Everything today felt… odd.

Now that Viktor had some time alone, he was pondering how Jayce was acting today. Doting on him, making him breakfast, tending to all his needs. This was normal for Jayce, but it was a bit more over the top than usual. Was there a reason for this?

He was thinking hard. He sat down on a stool, creaking under him, looking at some blueprints. But he was distracted, he couldn’t think clearly.

Jayce leaving in the middle of the day with such an excuse — or more so a blatant lie — was very unlike him. He loved experimenting in the lab, why did he heavily insist experimenting with the Hexclaw at home of all places?

Viktor was trying to bring his focus back, but he was thrown off course. He stood up, cane by his side. Maybe walking around the lab or even looking at Jayce’s work space may give him some insight as to why Jayce was acting this way.

Viktor shuffled over to Jayce’s desk near the wall. He picked up some loose papers with some writing scrawled on them, examining them to see what he could find. Nothing really stood out…

His head turned to the wall. A calendar was stuck up on it. Jayce used it to scribble down upcoming important events. Being stuck in the lab all the time, sometimes it was hard remembering what day of the week it was with the endless all-nighters. He approached it with a keen eye, his gaze scanning up to the most recent date that wasn’t crossed out in red marker…

Oh no.

It’s February 14. A small heart was drawn in the corner of the box.

Everything hit Viktor at once - everything made sense.

“…that idiot. He could’ve just told me.” Viktor rushed to pack up his things, leaving the lab early for the first time in a long while.

He couldn’t lie — he was a little bit excited to see what Jayce had in store. Would it be romantic, or silly? He was never sure with Jayce at the wheel. He surmised he at least would have something planned, whether on the fly while he rushed out of the lab or something prepared beforehand. His fantasy of what he might see kept spinning around inside his head as he made his way home.

All his questions were answered once he shoved the key in the lock of their door to their apartment, leaving his coat and shoes by the door. He paced to the living room, bearing witness to Jayce’s Valentine’s ‘gift’.

At first, a blush dusted Viktor’s pale cheeks at the sight, as did Jayce’s. He wasn’t really expecting this at all… both were stunned in silence from the other’s presence, until Viktor broke the tension with an amused chuckle.

“You could have told me it was Valentine’s Day, you know. I know the romantic in you loves this holiday.”

Jayce’s blush burned a little more. “I didn’t want to just tell you it was Valentine’s Day. I wanted you to figure it out without me having to say it.”

“Everyday feels like Valentine’s Day with you,” Viktor had a fond smile, then his face flushed. He sputtered. “Uh— I mean, you do so much already. I could not deduce what was normal and what was extra effort.”

Viktor stepped closer to the couch, resting his cane on the side of it. He looked Jayce up and down. “So… this is what you dragged the Hexclaw home for?”

“I did most of this,” Jayce flexed and tugged at the present tape. “I just needed it for my arms and hands. I’m actually surprised how tightly and efficiently it could wrap the tape. I’d say it was a successful experiment. I’ll— uh, need some help.”

Viktor looked at Jayce a little more, eyeing off his torso and arms. He really couldn’t move that much, huh? Jayce’s arms were wrapped that tight that they were stuck over his head. There were some gaps between the tape where his long sleeved shirt had shifted, showing some bare skin. He’d really have to unwrap him like a child’s present on Christmas morning. Viktor looked at Jayce’s vulnerable position… and a delightfully devilish idea popped into his mind instead.

Viktor smirked. “Hmm, you need my help, correct?”

Jayce was none the wiser regarding Viktor’s expression. He wanted to get a little naughty. It was Valentine’s Day after all, that’s what everyone does on this holiday. “What are you waiting for? Unwrap your present.” He replied with a smirk of his own, giving his partner his best bedroom eyes to egg him on.

That was the moment where Viktor realised that Jayce fell right into his trap.

He wouldn’t have the moment to even imagine what was going to hit him next.

Viktor reached out with the false intention of unwrapping Jayce from his tape prison. Slender fingers grabbed at the tape near his elbow at first, but then both hands dived down straight into Jayce’s unprotected underarms with ticklish malicious intent.

Jayce howled. It was unexpected— evil. In such a vulnerable position? He could hardly move! He threw his head back as laughter spilt out.

“VIKVIKVIK!! Wait— yohohou’re ruining tHE MOHOHOMENT!!” This was meant to be a romantic scene with Viktor slowly unwrapping him and having his way with him — not this!

“But you’re my present, Jayce. Can’t I do whatever I please with my gift?” His fingers skittered about, Jayce’s laughter pitched higher, wiggling around. 

“IT WAHAHASN’T MEANT TOHO– AHAHA!! TURN OUT THIHIHIS WAY!” This was not his plan at all. Derailed! 

“Perhaps you shouldn't have put yourself in such a vulnerable position. I had no choice, I just couldn't resist the temptation.” Oh, the asshole was teasing him now.

Jayce wriggled and thrashed, unable to do anything about Viktor’s wandering fingers. If he flexed really hard, he might be able to at least break the tape around his arms enough that he could stop him. But at the same time, why would he ruin the fun he was having? 

Viktor took note of this. 

The searching fingers found purchase on a little bit of tummy that was poking out between the red tape. Viktor’s precise fingers dragged along the skin, resulting in Jayce letting out a bit of a squeak. 

“Oh? Maybe my present is a squeaky toy?”

Jayce’s blush burned deeper, shaking his head. 

“No? But I very clearly heard a squeak. Chew toy-like.” He repeated the action, another squeak came out of Jayce. Viktor stopped to laugh.

Jayce’s face was now a tomato in shade. “D-Don’t laugh at thahat! Evil! Yohou’re evil!” He was embarrassed, sure, but he couldn’t stop himself from laughing either. “Yohohou’re so going to get it when I gehehet out of thihis.”

“Threatening me, in your position?” Viktor’s fingers started up again, managing to find that little bit of skin just below Jayce’s belly button that he knew would drive him wild. “Not a wise decision. You’ll be exhausted and breathless by the time I’m done with you.”

Jayce was starting to wheeze with laughter, shaking his head back and forth. Viktor was very pleased at the sight.

He skittered his blunt nails on any bare piece of skin he could reach — all over Jayce’s tummy, along his sides. He could even sneak a few pokes and prods at his ribs with the amount of squirming he was doing. Jayce was one big tickle spot at Viktor’s mercy. He could not handle the physical and verbal teasing from his maniacal partner. He could definitely be sadistic if he chose to be.

Jayce’s laugh started to grow silent, so Viktor knew he had to let up, despite wanting to continue further. He gave Jayce a comforting few taps on his belly with his hand, a smirk on his face. “How’s that? Had enough fun?”

“Yehehes, plehehease…” Jayce’s voice was a bit hoarse and scratchy, laced with residual laughter. It amused Viktor that he was the reason it was that way.

Viktor let out a chuckle, scooting down the other end of the couch to start unwrapping near his ankles and legs. “Now you can finally get what you wanted — I’ll actually get to unwrap my present. This all could have been avoided if you just told me it was Valentine’s today. I know you absolutely eat this event up.”

“Mahahaybe you should’ve gohotten my obvious hints…” Jayce breathed out a reply.

Oh, a bit of sass?

Viktor brushed his fingers against Jayce’s socked foot, the other jerking his leg with a laugh. “You’re still not free yet, you understand. You should be cautious with your words.”

“ALRIGHT!! I’m dohohone!” He nodded his head.

Viktor snickered. “That’s what I thought.”

Viktor continued unwrapping his generous Valentine’s present, a gift just for him. And Jayce liked it, too. Unwrapping his legs all the way up to his arms so they were now free. Jayce stretched his limbs, feeling stiff. “God, I had to wait a while for you to come back. Everything’s a little sore from the tape. The Hexclaw did a good job helping.”

“Well, I had to carefully put the pieces together to figure out why you were acting so odd.” He laughed, reaching out to cup the side of Jayce’s face, his cheeks still tinged with red. “Once everything clicked, I realised you’re the least subtle man I’ve ever known. It just took a while to dawn on me.”

“Pfft, wow, thanks for the compliment,” Jayce snickered, he leaned into Viktor’s warm hand. “But I'm happy I can take care of you, and be your present today,” he gently pushed on Viktor’s chest, urging him to lie down against the arm of the couch. “If you'll let me… I’d like to do something more…”

Viktor was under the assumption that Jayce was hinting at his sultry bedroom-eyed look from earlier when he walked into the room.

What Viktor didn't account for was that Jayce had revenge on his mind. And he was none the wiser, enchanted by his partner's passionate look in his eyes. 

“I saw the look on your face when I walked into the room – are you keeping your promise?”

Jayce towered over him, his hands grazing up Viktor’s arms and grabbing onto his hands. “I am – I always keep my word.” 

Well, that was a bit of a white lie. 

Jayce leaned down to give Viktor a kiss, the other all too eager. Until… 

“Actually…”

Jayce acted fast. He swiftly slid both his hands down to grip Viktor’s wrist, with a quick wrestle he wrangled both of his partner's wrists in one hand, pulling Viktor’s arms over his head. Viktor sputtered at the act, trying to form words from being utterly betrayed. 

“Wait, Jayce, you sneaky little–”

Viktor had no time to finish his sentence. 

Jayce dove down to Viktor’s neck, beginning to plant tickly kisses on whatever skin his lips could find. 

His partner squealed. 

The feeling was unexpected – criminally feeling more ticklish than it should. It didn't help that Jayce began to add his free hand into the mix, diving under the other's clothes to scribble against the skin on his belly. 

This is the price he paid for messing with Jayce. 

“Jahahayce wait wait WAHAHAIT!” Viktor began to thrash, though he had no chance of throwing Jayce off. 

“You had a choice, Viktor. And now you're reaping the consequences.”

Tickly kiss after tickly kiss, Viktor let out a giggly whine with each one, his face flushing pink. Jayce relished in the sound, laughing against Viktor’s neck, the feeling only tickling him even more. His free hand skittered from his stomach to his side, to the first few ribs that weren’t being covered by the brace. He even started giving out tickly bites, along his shoulder and neck and a little cheeky nibble at his earlobe to throw his partner off and to keep him guessing.

Viktor’s shoulders scrunched up, as did his face as he cackled and shook with laughter. Jayce just loved to see it.

Viktor shook his head. “I dohohon’t deserve thihiHIHIS!”

“You don’t? Are you sure about that?”

“YEHEHES!”

“Hmm, I don’t know… you were pretty mean to me earlier.”

Jayce’s fingers brushed over his ribs in a particular way that made Viktor jerk. “JAHAHAYCE!!”

“What, can’t take a dose of your own medicine?”

Viktor’s laughter started to become silent with a cough or two. Jayce knew it was time to slow down. “You’re lucky I’m a lot more merciful than you are.” He let out a laugh, letting go of Viktor’s wrists and slipping his hand out from under his shirt.

“You… hehe, just might kill me… you know…” Residual giggles escaped Viktor’s lungs, his head slumping against the armrest of the couch in tired defeat.

“I would never do that, I love you too much.”

Viktor’s cheeks dusted pink at that comment. “Ahem… so,” his hands reached out, tugging on Jayce’s collar, urging him to come closer. “Are we going to do things ‘proper’ now?”

“‘Proper’?” Jayce questioned.

“You should know, you adore this holiday.”

“Ah, yes,” Jayce leaned down, his hands cupping the sides of Viktor’s rosy cheeks. “Well, I hope you like your present.”

Lips collided together in a passionate kiss. Hands shifted through hair, clothes were being tugged. They were both way into it. There were even some light tickles shared, just to see the other scrunch up their face or laugh into the other’s kiss. Viktor planted sweet kisses across Jayce’s chest, in return Jayce left a trail of kisses and smooches on any of Viktor’s moles that he could find. 

Everything started to get a little hot and heavy… they moved to the bedroom, Viktor commenting that there were loose petals here too. Jayce was prepared for this.

It was a glorious Valentine’s Day for both of them.

[satellite-evans]

closure

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x ex!reader

Summary: you don't need Carlos' closure.

Word count: 2k+

Warnings: angst, based on the Taylor Swift song

A/N:

This my third fic for the folkmore series, and it is with none other than Carlos Sainz! This is my first time writing for him so I was quite nervous, please tell me what you think!

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

It arrives in your inbox at 2:17 AM, the timestamp almost mocking the stillness of the night. The world outside is quiet, the kind of silence that fills your room with its weight, pressing against your ribs as if the very air knows what’s coming.

The email subject line is simple.

Just wanted you to know.

For a moment, you just stare at it. The words are innocuous, almost casual, but your heart knows better. You’ve seen that phrase before—at least in the way it echoed in your mind, in the way you tried to convince yourself you’d be fine without any more explanations.

And for some reason, you already know what it’s about. You don’t need to open it to feel the heavy, familiar knot tightening in your stomach. The ache in your chest that had dulled over time, the one you had worked so hard to ignore, throbs with renewed intensity, as if it’s alive and remembering the shape of old wounds. It’s as though your body recognizes him before your mind even does, and it reacts accordingly—a reflex you can’t outrun.

Your hands tremble slightly, the familiar sensation of fear and longing mixing in your veins, but you can't bring yourself to look away. The old ache becomes a weight in your throat, too, and for a moment, you're almost paralyzed by the gravity of it. You know this isn’t just a message. This is a door opening, an invitation to face something you buried deep. But you click on it anyway, drawn in by something you can’t explain, a part of you still hoping that maybe—just maybe—this will be the thing that makes it all make sense.

I just wanted you to know I hope you're doing well. I know things ended messy between us, and I hate that. I really do. I never wanted to hurt you, and I know that I did.

I’m sorry for how I left. For not saying enough. For saying too much. For everything in between.

I hope you’re happy. I really do.

- Carlos.

The words stare back at you, flat on the screen, sterile and detached. They sit there like a sentence of finality, as if they’re not even meant for you, but for someone who doesn’t carry the weight of your history with him. It’s just an email—another digital scrap of text sent into the void of the night. But after everything, after all that’s passed, this is what he gives you? Does he think that you’re just a situation that needs to be handled? A string of hollow words with no breath behind them, no warmth, nothing that even remotely resembles the person you once knew. No, not even that. The person you thought you knew.

It was almost ironic how the shape of his name still spelled out pain. Every letter, every syllable, carried a weight that dug deep, as if each time you thought of him, the wound reopened. It was strange, how someone you once loved could still manage to hurt you, even in their absence. Everything about him—his words, his actions, even his silence—had caused so much damage that it was honestly a little concerning.

You hated him. No, despised him. The anger simmered under your skin like a constant burn, always just beneath the surface, ready to erupt. The audacity he had, the way he thought he could just walk away, leaving destruction in his wake—it was almost unbelievable. He was wrong in so many ways the day he broke up with you. The way it all went down, how he acted like it was the easiest thing in the world, how he twisted every word you’d said into something it wasn’t—it was wrong, all of it. And by the looks of it, he probably knew by now. He had to. The way time had passed, the way people talked, the way you’d changed—he had to know the damage he’d done.

Your mind replays the last time you saw him. You can still picture it so vividly—the way he had stood in the doorway of your apartment, arms crossed over his chest like a shield, his eyes dark with something you couldn’t read. He looked smaller somehow, the exhaustion wearing him down, hanging off of him like a second skin, like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, yet he couldn't find it in himself to care about you anymore. The lines in his face were deeper, like time had been more unforgiving to him than you ever realized. The way his jaw clenched so tightly when you had begged him to just talk to you, that desperate plea falling from your lips like a prayer, but he wouldn’t listen. His silence had cut deeper than anything he could have said. The way he hadn’t looked back when he walked away. Not once. Not a single glance. Like you didn’t exist. That was when you realized he had put a distance between you two ages ago that you were finally seeing—a sea you were too tired to cross.

The door had clicked shut behind him with a finality that shattered you into pieces you weren’t sure you could ever put back together. That sound—the click of the lock—wasn’t just the end of a visit, but the end of everything. The end of any future you thought you’d have together. You didn’t just lose him in that moment. You lost the life you’d built around him. And you’ve been trying to rebuild ever since.

And now, months later, this. This email. A quiet, late-night message, sterile in its simplicity, like he was trying to offer a neat little bow to wrap up the wreckage he left behind. But there’s no ribbon to tie, no neatness to this. What he gave you wasn’t closure—it was a reminder that, for all his talk of wanting to make amends, he’s still incapable of meeting you where you need him.

You slam your laptop shut, too quickly, too harshly, as if the words might physically reach out and strangle you if you don’t. For a moment, your fingers linger on the lid, shaking, the intensity of your pulse drowning out the quiet hum of the city outside. The night has become suffocating, and you can’t tell if it’s because of the email, or because you’re finally confronting what you’ve been trying to ignore for so long. The pain hasn’t gone anywhere, and neither has the ache. It sits with you like an old friend, one you can’t seem to shake.

It’s almost laughable, really. You can’t help but chuckle bitterly to yourself as you stare at the screen. He thinks he’s giving you closure. That this carefully constructed email, this rehearsed apology, is supposed to fix something, to heal the rift that’s been eating away at you for months. That it will somehow mend the fractures in your heart as if it’s something that can be neatly patched up with a few well-chosen words. But the truth is, it doesn’t even come close. No, this isn’t closure. This isn’t even an attempt at healing—it’s just an afterthought, a last-ditch effort to clear his conscience without ever truly facing the damage he caused. And it’s almost insulting.

Closure isn’t an email at 2 AM, casually dropped into your life as though he’s just checking off a box. It isn’t a collection of words stripped of warmth, void of real feeling, written at a distance, with no regard for the time, or the place, or the person it’s supposed to reach. Closure would have been a conversation. A real one. A face-to-face moment where he would have stayed, where he would have stayed long enough to listen, to hear you, and not just walk away the moment it got hard. That would have been closure. But he didn’t stay. He left you behind with nothing but the echoes of your unanswered questions.

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you struggle to steady yourself. You take a deep breath, but it shudders on the way in, uneven and sharp. It feels like your lungs are betraying you, like they can’t hold the air in anymore, and you’re left gasping in the void between anger and heartache. Your throat is thick with unshed tears, but you refuse to let them fall. Not again. Not for him. You’ve cried enough tears for him already, enough for a lifetime. You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this anymore, that you wouldn’t let him be the reason you hurt.

You want to reply. You want to scream, to let him know how deeply he’s failed you, how his absence is still an open wound, festering in the corners of your mind. You want to tell him that, even now, you still wake up in the middle of the night, expecting to hear his voice, expecting to feel the weight of his arm around your waist. You still reach for him in the dark, your fingers grasping at air, and you realize too late that he’s not there. You want to tell him that every time you see red—Ferrari red, that damn red, the color of his car, of everything he used to be to you—you feel like you might break all over again, like all the pieces you’ve tried to pick up and put together have shattered into even smaller bits.

But he's not Ferrari red anymore. He's Williams blue now. You’d probably be a new wrinkle in his life, a person who wouldn’t fit. Heck, you didn’t even fit when he was in Ferrari. You could answer him back, tell him you forgave him, that you both could be friends again. Maybe that would iron everything out nicely.

But you won’t. You won’t give him that satisfaction. You won’t give him the power to pull you back into this mess, into this space where you lose yourself every time you think about him. He doesn’t deserve that. You don’t deserve to let him keep doing this to you.

The frustration, the hurt, the unanswered questions—they all feel like they're swirling in a storm that won't quiet. You crawl into bed, pulling the blankets around yourself as if they could offer the protection your mind and heart desperately crave.

You are fine. Everything is fine. You had your beers, your occasional crying sessions, your candles. You were doing so much better without him. You had to.

It cut deep, knowing him, all the way to the bone. The breakup had been necessary. It had to be. You were healing, getting better, moving on. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

But the ache in your chest and the rapid, shallow breaths you couldn't control told a different story. It was one you knew the ending to but didn’t want to face. His email was oh so unnecessary, cruel even. He had broken up with you months ago, and yet here he was again, trying to reach back into your life. He shouldn’t have contacted you. He should’ve left you alone.

And you definitely should’ve stayed in bed.

Hatred and regret twisted inside of you, each trying to take the lead, but you were too exhausted to figure out which was winning. Still, you knew you had to respond.

Your gaze lingered on the laptop screen for what felt like hours, your mind scrambling for the right words, something that could strike him, something that would hurt, something that would linger with him forever the way he had lingered in your life. But nothing came.

Instead, what you found was something deeper—something far more painful.

Acceptance.

Acceptance was the true winner in the battle between your emotions. It was the thing you’d been running from, the thing you’d fought so hard to avoid. You had accepted it.

It was over.

So, with a steady hand, you typed the final words you’d ever send him and blocked his email so he could never contact you again.

"I don’t need your closure."

[giggly-squiggily]

Hey Squiggly!!! I’m back with another headcanon.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again—Giyu is Great at Holding in his laugh. You either have to get a death spot or be tickling him for hours if you want him to crack. EXCEPT. He CANNOT hold in his laugh with feathers. Like. This man is extremely feather ticklish, and it drives him MAD. Surprisingly, Obanai is the one who found out. (Mitsuri was definitely not forcing them to hang out whatsoever, Obanai 100% invited Giyu to his estate of his own accord….) ANYWAY. Giyu and Obanai were both feeding their respective pets (Giyu’s crow and Obanai’s snake, I can’t remember how to spell the names) and Giyu dropped some fruit right into his uniform. And his crow dove in to get it. Obanai let it slip and now everyone TORTURES Giyu.

Anyway, Giyu being feather ticklish to me is so funny. Tough man taken out by soft feather, it heals my soul. Feel free to use the scene I was talking about, or a different scene, up to you!!! Also feel free to decline of course. Take your time and have fun with your event :)

(Sorry I rambled a Bit….)

(Headcanons to Dabbles: OFFICIALLY CLOSED)

And with that- we've reached the last of the Dabbles! Thank you everyone who participated and who read along! I'll be updating the masterlist soon!

OH THIS IS BEYOND ADORABLE!!! Giyu being feather sensitive and Obanai just watching him getting wrecked and not helping is such a vibe jarekarjearkjae I wanna make more "Hashira getting GIyu" things down the road; this was just so fun! I've gotcha covered, friend! :D

Obanai didn’t want this to happen, but given what came out of it, he couldn’t complain.

Invite him over, she insisted. Try to get to know him better before you cast him aside. Tomioka-san just might surprise you!

Mitsuri’s request  was what brought them here today- sitting outside Obanai’s home and…existing. The Serpent Hashira had no idea what they were to discuss, and Giyu wasn’t helping with his awkward silences.

He was just now starting to realize why he hung out with Mitsuri and Sanemi. Both of them could keep a silence at bay.

Heeeeeeh…

“Calm. You’re gonna get some.” Giyu’s voice stirred him from his thoughts, turning his attention to the Water Hashira and his crow. He was holding a handful of pecans- offering them one by one as his crow hopped and squawked, demanding more. “You’re getting older- I don’t want you to get si-EE!”

What happened next was fast and surprising. Obanai watched the crow leap upwards and into Giyu’s face, making him lean back. His handful of nuts went flying- in his face, his lap, and even some on Obanai. The serpent Hashira took what landed on him for a snack.

“Kanzaburou! Behave yourself. Ugh, this is a disaster..” Giyu sighed as he looked down at himself, tugging at his collar when he felt a few nuts stuck there. “I’m gonna be finding pecans on me for days.”

“Hehe. Nut case.” Obanai snickered at his own dumb joke. To his surprise, Giyu was laughing too. “Wow, didn’t know you had a sense of humor.”

When Giyu started laughing harder, Obanai raised a brow. “Come on, it wasn’t that funny.”

“Thahhat’s not ihihiht-aheahhahaha, Kahahahnzahhahaburohohohu dohohoohn’t!” Giyu was grabbing at his shirt, specifically at the lump wiggling its way down. “Gehehhehet ohohohohut! Yohohoohu tihihihickle!”

“Kaw! Kaaaw!” The bird squawked in glee, it’s feathery butt sticking out from the top of Giyu’s collar, furthering his tickly torture. “We mustn't waste a single ounce of food! Kaaaaw!”

“Gihihihive me a shehehehecond- Aheahahhahah Iihiihgurhoohohho heheheheelp!”

“Huh?” The other man had been watching without realizing it.

“HEhehelp me ghehehheht him ohohohout! Aheahhahhaa! Pleahahhahse!” Giyu cried, cheeks warm and eyes scrunched and misty. It was such a rare sight- seeing the stoic man laugh. Obanai almost didn’t help just to make it last.

Only then Giyu was wincing some as his crow crawled down further, its talons and beat sharp. Obanai tsked before reaching over, working at the buttons with rapid speed.

“Ahehahhaha-hehahahha- thehehhehre!” The second there was an opening big enough, Giyu reached up and gently pried his crow free, holding him carefully in his shaking hands. “Now stahahap thahhat.”

“Kaaw! Kaaaaw!” The bird chirped, flying out of Giyu’s hands and off to who knew where. 

The water Hashira groaned softly as he flopped on his back, arms over his face to hide his flustered expression. “Eheh..heh..th-that was a bit embahahharasing..” When he didn’t hear Obanai reply, he dared a peek- flushing more at the other’s amused stare. “Erm..could we keep this between us?”

“You already know the answer to that.” Giyu groaned and hid in his arms once more while Obanai snickered; delighted by this new piece of information.

He couldn’t wait to tell the others.

[oh2e]

A (long) Collection of TTOI Quotes

He’s as useless as a marzipan dildo

I’m going to have to mop up a hurricane of piss here

He and Hewitt are tight as arse cheeks

‘How fucked am I? On the fuckometre?’ ‘Oh 12’ ‘yeah 12’ ‘out of what?’ ‘50’ ‘oh…. mine was out of 10’

Tiny little dick the size of a bookie’s biro

There’s no time to go home I’ll pass myself on the way back in

I can only cook with what I’m given. You give me Hugh Abbot I’ll give you bangers and mash, you give me Jerry from home office then I can raise it to fucking risotto and scallops

I am king of remembering my own password

‘Shagging your way to the top is it?’ ‘Yes well I’m not Scottish so I’ve got to get in somehow’

How much shit is on the menu and what flavour is it?

‘What do you want Malcolm’ ‘Two bits of tit. Two titties.’

Come the fuck in or fuck the fuck off

“What about just firing him at a wall from a cannon?” “I know we force feed him a mixture of garlic and Dettol in cup a soup” “What about the old red hot poker up the arse?” “I’d like to nail him to a tree through the head and watch lice slowing crawl over his body eating off all the flesh”

“Has security checked this [plant]?” “For little terrorists?”

This is the problem with the public - they’re fucking horrible

Not only was it a shit idea to ruin my holiday, it was a shit idea you stole from the government to ruin my holiday

Ah that’s like smoking dead skin that is

You’re the fucking shittest James Bond ever - you’re David Fucking Niven!

You’re like a sweaty octopus trying to unhook a bra

You take the piss outta [Al] Jolson again and I will remove your iPod from its tiny nano sheath and push it up your cock! Then I’ll plug some speakers up your arse and put it onto shuffle with my fucking fist

I thought you said no one reads these except political obsessives and mad Christians in wheelchairs but loads of people read mine

“I am not the story here” “Well no you kind of are though Malcolm, they spelled your name right and everything”

Come with me before I put your nuts in a book and squeeze them so hard that they come out like pressed fucking flowers

You’re The Ben….Ben Nevis…Bentally Ill…

Tickety fuckity boo

“Anyone seen Jamie?” “Oh don’t tell me he’s gone feral cos he was fucking terrifying when you had him on the leash.”

I’d love to stay and talk to you but I’d rather have type 2 diabetes

Mr Baby New Potato Head

It sucks cock so deep the bell end is wearing your appendix as a little hat

This is an operations room so unless you want your tonsils out by keyhole surgery from this key here, piss off!

Cliff Fucking Lawton! Nice. Was the Cilit Bang man not available?

To a guy who loses it so bad he needs a sat nav to find his own nipples

I’m feeling about as up to date as a Gregorian calendar

“You couldn’t organise a bum rape in a barracks.” “Au contraire”

You’re about as secure as a hymen in a south London comprehensive

Stop fucking blinking or I will take your optic nerve and fucking strangle you with it

Hanging round like a couple of school secretaries in the summer holidays

It’s like a prostate consultant’s waiting room in here

You will be sorry you inflatable cock!

I am going to have your intestines as a skipping rope and your lungs sundried and turned into a fucking waistcoat

Or will Dan Miller pull his scalp off and use it as an oven glove?

Enough of the pleasantries let’s just oil up and get fucking

A towel rail shouldn’t take up a whole wall, that’s not a towel rail it’s a climbing frame.

I’ve got a to-do list here longer than a fucking Leonard Cohan song

More on my plate than a spinster at a wedding

The only other candidate is my left bollock with a fucking smiley face drawn on it

Feels a bit like my head’s made entirely of smoke alarms

Fuck the Is and fist the Ts

May as well ask what I think of skirting boards, I’m sure we need them but I don’t know why

“No no I didn’t say that” “Well you sort of did with your face”

Let me row back a little bit, perhaps all the way back to the boathouse

She’s not bent either in the sense of being corrupt or being gay and by the way that’s an incredibly homophobic headline you massive poof

Omnishambles, from bean to cup you fuck up

I’m on my way to wipe my arse on pictures of Nick Robinson

“And I’m not doing terribly am I?��� [Malcolm looking out the opposite window] “I love the way they’ve sandblasted here. It looks so clean.”

No no, don’t get up - I’m not viagra

He’s a fucking knitted scarf, he’s a balaclava.

The only thing John Duggan is doing here is depriving a village somewhere of a twat

You write almost entirely in generic meaningless buzzwords don’t you?

I will tear your fucking skin off, I will wear it to your mother’s birthday party, I will rub your nuts up and down her leg while whistling Bohemian Fucking Rhapsody

She’s behaving like a squirrel in a pedal bin.

Or I’ll have to tear my eyelids off and scrunch them up into fucking earplugs

I’m flypaper for dickheads

I think you’re wrong Malcolm you’re like a sultana in a salad

Sorry I can’t make espresso but I’ve made this so thick and black it’ll be like drinking fucking plimsoles

Well fuck a pot noodle. Sam, prepare my horse. I ride to DoSAC

The only fucking vibe you need to worry about is the one your wife hides in her knicker drawer

See you later and remember my door is always locked

* Tintin’s sexy sister to Ollie

What I really need is to shoot you all in the back of the head FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK. but I can’t because it’s illegal.

I reserve this level of anger for when I’m flying Ryanair

As about a strong defence as ‘the fertiliser in my homemade bomb was organic’!

She’s a fart in a frock and we both want her wafted out of here

She’s going to have to fall on her sword, which means that we’re going to have to stick one in the ground, trip her up onto it and get someone jump up and down on her back for ten minutes

She’s going to kick her own head in which’ll be easy because she does yoga

I’m looking for Mr Oliver Reeder? He looks a bit like a Quentin Blake illustration

“Is she fucked?” “Like Caligula’s favourite watermelon.”

Can I bring you a shot glass? And some bleach?

You can’t look a gift corpse in the mouth

“It’s over the fat lady’s singing” “No she’s not, the fat man from the go compare advert is talking”

I’ve got my cock out, it’s covered in breadcrumbs and the fucking pigeons are circling

Have I just stepped through a portal into a sausage machine because this is making mincemeat out of my head

Sit there and ogle me like a page three girl

I’m as busy as a two-twatted hooker

Now I have to step in your shoes but after you’ve shat in them

I don’t just take this fucking job home you know. I take this fucking job home, it ties me to the bed and it fucking fucks me from arsehole to breakfast then it wakes me up in the morning with a cupful of piss flung in my face then slaps me about the chops to make sure I’m awake enough to kick me in the fucking bollocks. This job has taken me in every hole in my fucking body.

Everything is fine I’m like lube at a funeral

If you pull off again I’m going to stick the meter so far down your throat you’ll be able to tell the price of your next shit

You closeted regency homosexual

It’s been a bit like renovating an old, old house. You can take out a sexist beam here, a callous window there, replace the odd homophobic roof tile, but after a while you realise […] the foundations are built on what I can only describe as a solid bed of cunts.

Shit in the couscous

[book-place]

American Pie

Warnings: Harry Potter series spoilers, character death, violence, cursing, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Harry Potter x aunt reader

Request: Hello I was wondering if you could do a part 2 of the potter twins . Like where y/n gets hold of Harry and sends him off and stuff and seeing him grow up and he can like rely on you ? And like your a cool aunt and everyone loves you ? You don’t have to but sorry for bothering you

Request by: @bellboy2107

*not my gif*

Summary: Since your brother was now gone, Harry was the only person that mattered to you

A/N: Welcome to book place’s one year event!!; This is a part 2 for Potter Twins

Inspired by: American Pie by Don McLean

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

Long long time ago, I can still remember how that music used to make me smile

Slowly, your eyes opened and tried to adjust to the light streaming through the windows directly at you, as if on purpose to wake you up.

Stifling a groan, you sat upright and dropped your head into your hands, not wanting to face the day. Not another one. You didn’t know how much longer you could do it without your brother by your side. And it had only been a month.

The singular thought keeping you going was the thought that one day you would be able to get Harry back, your last link to James and your only surviving family member.

It had been a struggle tracking him down, it was as if he had disappeared off the face of the earth. But you weren’t yet ready to give up.

You had meant it, you would find the boy. Even if it was the last thing you ever did.

And I knew if I had my chance, that I could make those people dance

Picking up the Daily Prophet, you shoveled a spoonful of eggs into your mouth and began reading.

The news had long since slowed down, and tried to move on from the war by talking about it. As if that would erase it from everyone else’s memory. As if it never happened.

It was quite boring, the new players for a quidditch team, some Ministry of Magic mishap with the muggle thing called hand sanitizer mixed with a hair growing potion.

But then you got to the last page.

The reporters finally got a full list of everybody that passed on during the war. Names on random spots of the page jumped at your eyes in sharp, dangerous pangs.

James Potter. Lily Potter. Marlene McKinnon. Fabian Prewett. Gideon Prewett-

You harshly pushed away from the table, not paying any mind to the high pitched scraping sound it made against the floor, and your breathing picked up.

You couldn’t do this, you couldn’t be here, not without them. Not without them. Not without them. Not without-

Harry.

You needed to find Harry. He was the only thing that would keep you grounded. And if you didn’t find him soon, you don’t know what you would do. What you would live to regret.

And maybe they'd be happy for a while

After finishing buttoning up your cloak, you let out a sigh, slowly letting your eyes drift to the dresser in the corner of the room, the one that held a picture on its surface.

In it, you were jumping on James’s back making funny faces, stuck in a timeless loop of happiness.

What the camera hadn’t picked up on was Mia and Fleamonts smiling faces behind the flash, capturing the moment for all of eternity.

It was one of the only photos you could stomach to keep on display.

But February made me shiver

Finally. You had finally done it.

Frozen, you stood before the plain brown door with unseeing eyes and a mile-a-minute mind.

Harry James Potter was sitting just beyond this door.

You had finally been able to track him down with mountains of spells and potions that had taken months to go through. You had a first gone to Dumbledore, hoping he would give you any indication as to where your nephew was, but he offered you nothing, claiming it was safer that way. You had proceeded to storm out of the room, slamming the door harsh enough to shake the walls behind you.

The wind rushed against your skin like a swarm of needles, and you shuddered a little, officially breaking out of your thoughts and you raised your fist to knock on the door.

With every paper I'd deliver

You couldn’t believe your own eyes, not as you stared down at one year old Harry in your arms, staring up at you with wide eyes and an even wider, gummy smile.

You hadn’t wasted another second after standing on the Dursleys doorstep to storm in wand ablaze and demand you take your nephew.

The cowards didn’t even put up a fight as they let you take him, but you wouldn’t complain- you were able to get in and out without any trouble.

Bad news on the doorstep, I couldn't take one more step

“Auny Y/n! Auny Y/n!” Young Harry babbled, making grabby motions with his chubby hands up at you from his crib.

You smiled softly, reaching your arm out and allowing his tiny fingers to wrap around your much larger ones.

The second a knock sounded through your home, your entire body stiffened and your hand automatically went to the wand you kept in your pocket at all times.

Turning on your heel, you left your giggling nephew behind as you slowly crept towards the front door, unsure of what was awaiting you on the other end.

Tentatively, you peered through the small window near the door and let out a sigh of relief, stance automatically relaxing as you opened it to reveal the headmaster of Hogwarts. Though you were still angry with him for not revealing Harry’s location, at least it was him and not anyone else.

“What do you want, Albus?” You asked, long since having stopped using teacher-student formalities.

He looked up at you with sad eyes, “I-“

Harry let out a particularly loud babble behind you, and your body once again stiffened.

What if he tried to take Harry away from you? What if you couldn’t stop him? What if-

“First of all,” His tone softened, “How is young Harry doing?”

You eyed the man skeptically, “He’s doing fine,”

He chuckled lightly, “I assure you, I’m not here to take him away, Miss. Potter.” His words made you calm down once more, “But I am afraid I come bearing bad news.”

It was like someone was playing with an on and off switch with your emotions, allowing you to think everything was okay before flipping the switch teasingly.

“I understand that you haven’t always been the closest with Sirius Black,”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “No,” You admitted, “Not like James is-was, but he’s still my friend.” You cleared your throat slightly at the small error you made.

“I’m afraid Mr. Black has been sent to Azkaban for the murder of Peter Pettigrew.”

You didn’t know if it was possible to have your heart torn into any more pieces than it already had been. But if it was possible, then that’s exactly what happened to you in that moment.

Though you and Sirius hadn’t in fact been very close, you had been there for him when he moved into your house that one summer after things got really bad with his parents. The two of you could always joke around in a class together and be comfortable around each other.

You never could have pictured him killing one of his best friends- even though you barely knew the other boy. From what you saw though, Peter was a sweet and gentle kid that would do anything for his friends. Just like how Sirius used to bed

“I shall leave you alone once more,” Albus declared softly, “And Miss. Potter?” He called after a silent moment. “I truly am sorry for everything.”

You slammed the door in his face.

I can’t remember if I cried, when I read about his widowed bride

For the first time in weeks, you picked up the Daily Prophet after being able to put Harry down for his first nap in a while, that boy was as stubborn as his father.

You casually flipped through the pages, skimming over the sections that went on about quidditch matches finally starting up again after the war. What you hadn’t expected to see, was the grinning faces of your brother and sister in law on the last page.

Your breath caught in your throat and your eyes went wide when you realized that it was a tribute to the two of them from some of their friends from their time in Hogwarts. Some kids that knew them well enough to be friendly, but not enough to have any right to print a long section in the paper about how impactful their lives were.

It felt as though your lungs were closing in on themselves as you stared down with watered eyes at the words. You thought you had gotten over it. You thought you would be able to move on.

But seeing the page-long writing about them pushed you over the edge and you dropped the paper as you collapsed to the ground with a sob.

You reached a hand up to cover your mouth so you wouldn’t wake Harry, who was sleeping soundly in the other room over.

Apparently you weren’t quiet enough though, because Harry’s cries soon joined yours, alerting you of his newly awoken form.

Quickly, you reached up and harshly wiped your tears away. You wouldn’t let your own grief get in the way of taking care of Harry. You were going to do everything in your power to look after the boy to the best of your ability.

“Hey, Harry,” You smiled softly as you entered the room, bending down and scooping him into your arms, “It’s alright, it’s alright. I’m here now.”

But something touched me deep inside, the day the music died

“Auntie! Auntie!” Harry cheered, tripping over his own feet as he stumbled into the room, “Look! Look!”

You raised your head with an amused twinkle in your eyes as you moved your gaze to meet his, “What is it?”

Grinning wildly, he took a large eveleope from behind his back and presented it to you, “It’s my Hogwarts acceptance letter!”

Pride and happiness swelled and whirrled around in your chest and you broke out into a grin that was similar to his, “Oh, good job, Harry!” You cried, wrapping your nephew into a tight hug that he excitedly returned.

“Merlin, I can’t believe I’m going to Hogwarts,” Harry rambled, “I mean, after all the stories you’ve told I feel like I’ve already been there, but it’s still-“

“Harry,” You cut him off with a small laugh, pulling away and putting your hands on his shoulders, “Do you know what this means?”

He shook his head, messy hair that was much like James’s flopping back and forth, “What?” There was curiosity in his voice.

Your grin widened, “It means that we need to take a trip to Diagon Alley!”

The boy let out a cheer, jumping up and down on the balls of his feet.

With that, the two of you took the floo network and began shopping around for any and everything that he could possibly need during his year, all while memories of the past tickled the back of your mind. Of the summers before every September that you and your family would spend roaming these very streets.

As the two of you sat down at a small table with some ice cream, you couldn’t help the small, sad smile you sent Harry’s way.

“Wha’?” He asked through a mouthful of the food.

You shook your head softly, “This just reminds me of times with your father.” You admitted in a small whisper.

He smiled understandably and reached over to squeeze your hand, “It’s alright, Aunt Y/n.” He comforted, “Because you have me now.”

You gave him a teary smile and patted his hand appriciantly, “Thank you, Harry.” You reached over with your other hand and ran it through his messy locks, “I know I do.”

So bye-bye, Miss American Pie

“Your grandmother always used to fuss over me and your father like this,” You mumbled, dusting imaginary lint off of Harry’s shirt, “I can't believe I’m turning into my mother.”

The boy smiled, “Getting more like an old lady every day.” He teased.

You scowled, reached up and lightly slapped him upside the head, “Watch it,” You mockingly scolded, “Or else I’ll make you live in the closet under the stairs when you get home.”

His grin widened and he reached over and wrapped his arms around your waist, “I’ll see you at Christmas.” He mumbled into your shirt.

Harshly, you blinked away tears that had begun to fill your eyes, not wanting to cry in front of your nephew over something as simple as him leaving to go to Hogwarts.

“I shouldn’t be crying, right?” You mumbled into his ear.

He pulled away with a laugh and shrugged, “I don’t mind.”

You smiled at him through your blurry vision and reached up to cup his cheek, “I want you to write all the time. Don’t hesitate to come to me if you need anything. I mean it, Harry.”

“I will.” He promised, hugging you quickly again so you could kiss the top of his head before standing back and picking up his bag, “I better go before the express leaves without me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” You cleared your throat, “Good idea.”

“I love you, Auntie!” He called before disappearing into the crowd.

“Love you too,” You whispered to the empty place he had once been standing in.

“Oh, darling.” The familiar voice of none other than Molly Weasley cooed, making her way over to where you stood and wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulder, “First year is always hard.”

You let out a watery chuckle, “I don’t know how you’ve done this so many times.” You admitted.

“It’s still hard,” She confessed, “But it started to get a bit easier over time.” She turned her head to smile at you, “I’m just glad that Ron and Harry are together.”

You hummed in agreement, glad that he was with the childhood friends that he met in nursery school, causing you and the rest of the family to grow close as well over the years. Well, after they got over the fact that he was The Harry Potter, that is.

“I’m gonna miss him,” You mumbled.

“I know, but he’s going to do so well at Hogwarts. You’re going to be so proud of him.” The woman reassured you.

You smiled at her, “Both of them are gonna make us really proud.” Bringing her son into this as well.

Molly shook her head helplessly, “It’s either that or we will be getting a letter for their expulsion in a week.”

“Fred and George made it this far.” You teased with a small snigger.

She threw her head back with a laugh, “Indeed they did.”

Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry

You smiled widely at the letter that sat in your hands, reading and rereading everything that Harry had to tell you about his first week at school.

About the new friends he made, the adventures he already had in Gryffindor house, and even some of the enemies he made. Though, you couldn’t fault him for hating any son of Lucius Malfoy.

What you had said to Molly was true, you were going to miss Harry. But Hogwarts would be good for him. He would be able to make memories just like you had. The good and the bad.

Not only that, but he wouldn’t have a war to worry about. He would be able to enjoy being a kid within the walls.

Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye

“Happy Christmas!” You and Harry cheered in sync the moment you stepped through the doors of the Burrow, piles of presents in your arms.

“Oh, Happy Christmas!” Molly cried happily, coming around the corner and beginning to help you with everything, “Boys!” She snapped, “Come help the Potters with their things!” Before smiling kindly at the two of you once more, emitting laughs from your lips.

“Thank you, Ron.” You breathed out once he took a particularly heavy wrapped box before turning and nodding in greeting to Arthur, “Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas, yourself.” The man chirped back while grinning and pulling Harry into a quick side hug before ushering the two of you into the living room where the rest of the Weasley children sat.

Quickly, they all scrambled up at the sight of the two of you and you all exchanged hugs and joyful greetings.

“Can we please do the presents now, mum?” Ginny whined, “We’ve been waiting all morning!”

Her mother looked down at her sternly, but you were quick to wrap an arm around Mollys shoulder and smile at her, “Come on, Mol, it’s Christmas!”

“Yeah! Listen to Aunt Y/n!” Fred piped up, George nodding along with his twin.

“Oh, alright,” Even Molly couldn’t hide the smile that sat upon her features as she said it though, “Pass them out, all of you.”

You looked up in surprise and slightly wide eyes when Ron shyly handed you a gift, “This is for you,” He mumbled.

“O-oh, thank you, Ron.” You said genuinely, not having expected anything at all.

As soon as you opened it, tears began to fill your eyes when you saw the contents. It was a sweater with your first initial sewn into it.

“I know I normally just do it for the kids,” Molly spoke, “But I figured you could use one too.”

You bit down on your lip slightly, running a hand gently down the soft fabric. It reminded you of when your own mother used to knit, “Thank you, Mol.” You whispered, thankful that the children were too preoccupied with their own gifts to realize what was going on.

“Oh, come now. Cheer up,” She rubbed your back comfortingly, “It’s Christmas.”

You smiled over at her, leaning your head against her shoulder, “Thank you.” You repeated.

Singing, "This'll be the day that I die"

“What the bloody hell happened?” You demanded as soon as you slammed open the doors to the Hospital Wing and stormed into the room with a cloud of rage sitting over your head.

“Ah, Miss. Potter. So nice of you to join us.” Dumbledore spoke, standing up from beside your nephew's bed, where he lay unconscious. The man spoke in such a way as if you had simply run into each other at the grocery store.

“Cut the bullshit, Albus.” You snapped with a deadly glare set on your face, “Your letter only told me that Harry was unconscious. You didn’t tell me a single thing about how he ended up unconscious.”

He sighed, cutting right to the chase, “I am afraid that Voldemort has returned.”

You froze in your steps, heart hammering mercilessly against your rib cage, “What did you just say?” As if he would change his words by your tone alone.

“This might be a conversation best had while sitting down-“ He gestured to some visitor chairs.

“I much prefer to stand.” You seethed, unable to slow your racing thoughts.

So the headmaster explained.

Voldemort. The man who slaughtered everyone you loved in the name of his pathetic war- and almost succeeded with taking Harry- was back and he went after your nephew again to try and seek revenge.

“I thought Hogwarts was safe.” It wasn’t hard to miss the way you had shifted your body so that you were standing in front of Harry’s bed, as if you alone could create a wall of protection around the boy, “This is supposed to be a place that will protect him.”

“Indeed,” Was the only answer you were offered.

You scoffed, “I hope you know that he will not be returning next year after all this.”

“Are you sure that is wise?” The older man asked with a single raised eyebrow, “It is your choice Miss. Potter, but don’t you think that it’s better for Harry to be surrounded by some of the finest witches and wizard staff who will now keep a closer eye on him?”

That made you hesitate.

“You alone can’t protect the boy from the world.” He continued.

Slowly, you turned your head to stare down at Harry, who’s steady rise and fall of his chest was the only thing indicating that he was still alive.

This will be the day that I die

“I don’t like this,” You mumbled, crossing your arms over yourself as your eyes flitted around the train station.

He sighed, “I know, Aunt Y/n, but I think Dumbledore was right, Hogwarts is the safest place for me to be.”

Finally, you met his eyes and sighed, dropping your arms to the side, “I know,” You admitted, “But that still doesn’t mean that I have to like it.”

Harry gave you his best attempt at a smile, “I know.”

“Here,” You reached forward and plucked his glasses off his face before rubbing them softly against your shirt and placing them back on the bridge of his nose once you deemed them clean enough, “Remember what I said?”

“Notify you the minute anything seems off.” He repeated the words you had drilled into his head over and over again over summer break.

“Right,” You breathed out, “Now, are you sure you still want to go-“

“Yes.” He smiled a little bit, “I’ll be fine. I have Ron and Hermione.”

You huffed a bit, “I know that, but-“

“Auntie.” He spoke sternly, “You don’t need to worry, it’ll be fine.”

You were silent for a moment, before you put your hands up in surrender, “Okay, okay, alright.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Did you write the Book of Love?

“This is the second time,” You ranted angrily, pacing up and down Dumbledore's office, “This is the second time in two years that Harry was put into immediate danger in this school.”

Albus sighed, eyes following you back and forth, “I assure you, it was never my intention to put him in any harms way-“

“I never said it was.” You rounded on him, “But it still seemed to happen under your watch.”

He pursed his lips together, “That is very true.”

You reached up and ran a hand through your hair in frustration, “What am I supposed to do now? You claim that Hogwarts is still the safest place for him, but he was attacked in this building twice.”

“I assure you, Miss. Potter, necessary precautions will be taken to ensure the safety of him and all of the other children.”

You glared at him, “I was told something like that last time. But then Harry was still attacked by a basilisk.”

It was silent for a moment before he spoke up again, “I didn’t tell you this before because I didn’t want to further worry you nor Harry, but there is a possibility that Voldemort is still out there.”

You sucked in a sharp breath at his words, “But you said after last year-“

“I know what I said,” He agreed, “But there is a large chance that I was wrong.”

Your eyes snapped over to meet his, “Having him here is better than having him outside of here if he decides to come for him again.” You whispered quietly.

Albus nodded, “My thoughts exactly.”

Slowly, you nodded and turned to leave, but paused with your hand on the doorknob, “Let’s not tell Harry yet. Just in case it’s not true.”

“You have my word.”

With that, you exited the office, softly shutting the door behind you.

And do you have faith in God above?

“Remus,” You froze, breathing out the name almost as if you didn’t believe that you were saying it.

“Y/n,” He was in a similar state to yours, staring at you with wide eyes, neither one of you paying any mind to the commotion of the platform going on around you.

The two of you hadn’t talked since that day you shoved him away while grieving for James. Sure, he tried to reach out from time to time, but ultimately decided that space was what you had needed the best.

You swallowed, “What- what are you doing here.”

“I’m going to be the new defense against the dark arts professor.” He informed you while clearing his throat, “It’s good to see you.” He added after a moment.

You shook away your shock and decided upon smiling kindly at the man, “You too, Remus, you too.”

“Is…” He trailed off, seeming to try and find the right words.

“Harry just got onto the train with some friends.” You informed him, knowing exactly what he was going to ask.

“Third year?” You nodded your head and he let a small breath loose, “It feels like we were just his age.”

Your smile turned sad, “We might as well have been.”

The train whistled and both of you turned to look at it.

“I should go.” He spoke, giving you one of his famously kind smiles.

Your face turned serious, “Listen, Remus. I know that I’m in no place to be asking for favors, but-“

“Of course I’ll watch over Harry.” He said softly, “And not just for James. For you too.” He looked you in the eyes to show his sincerity.

“Thank you.”

He shook his head, beginning to walk backwards towards the train, “There’s no need to thank me.”

It felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest because even though you hadn’t spoken to the man in years, you knew that he was one of the only people alive that you would trust with not just yours, but Harry’s life as well.

If the Bible tells you so

You gripped the Daily Prophet tightly, eyes scanning over the same line again and again. The one that read that Sirius Black had escaped Azkaban.

The very man that had not only betrayed Lily and James, but had also killed Peter right afterwards. And now he was loose and running amok in Merlin knows where.

As long as he stayed far away from Harry, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Even after all he did. It was best not to dwell on the man who had taken everything from you, it would only consume your entire being.

Do you believe in rock 'n' roll?

You crept up the creaking stairs of the Shrieking Shack after receiving a vague letter from Remus that you had no reason not to wholeheartedly believe.

He would never under any circumstances lie about Sirius Black not being the traitor that you all thought him to be. That Peter was really it and he was still alive. You knew you could believe it because James and Lily’s deaths are nothing to joke about, and Remus more than anyone knew that. So that’s why you had snuck into Hogwarts and were meeting him here.

As soon as you reached the top of the stairs, your eyes locked onto Harry, Ron, and Hermione, all cowering in a corner of a top room and you rushed to their sides. Immediately, you reached out to cup Harry and Ron’s cheeks as your eyes scanned over Hermione for any sign of injury.

“Are you guys alright?” You asked worriedly.

Without a word your nephew guestered shakily to a figure behind you, and you whipped around to face what he was so scared of.

Remus standing beside none other than Sirius Black.

Though he was dirty and had changed so, so much from the last time you had seen one another, you didn’t hesitate to spring forward and wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him in for a hug.

True, you had never been as close to him as your brother had. But you still spent most of your summers with him and he had once been someone you could consider a friend. And you didn’t have many of those now adays.

“What are you doing?” Ron shrieked in horror before either you or the man could get a word in to one another after pulling away, “He’s trying to kill us.”

“No, he is not, Mr. Weasley.” Remus explained patiently, “But I am afraid that there is another being in this room that is.”

“A-Auntie?” Harry asked shakily, “What’s going on?”

Before you could respond, a rat you hadn’t even noticed leapt forward and transformed into a man midair. A man you knew to be Peter Pettigrew.

The sight of him alone made you see red. Every bit of pain, grief, and despair that you had felt within the last thirteen years all coming to crash down on you at once because it was all due to him. He was the reason James was dead.

Ignoring Sirius’s hand that flew out to stop you, you stormed over and grabbed Peters collar with so much power that the large man was left stumbling, and pulled out your wand, jabbing it painfully into his neck.

“You dirty little rat.” You seethed, “How dare you,” You took a deep breath and repeated the question, shouting it at the top of your lungs this time. You missed the way the three children flinched at the suddenness of it.

You sensed the two men coming to stand at your sides.

“I’m going to kill you for what you did.” There was no threat behind your words, it was only a clear statement.

Gently, Remus guided your hand down, “He’ll pay for what he did.” He whispered the promise in your ear, “By sending him to Azkaban.”

You didn’t reply, just pushed your wand into his neck harder, making him whimper pathetically.

“Harry doesn’t need you going to prison too.” Sirius muttered from beside you, and those words finally made you pause.

You glanced over to where he stood, being held back from springing forward to help you by his friends, and you finally, reluctantly released your death grip on Peter.

As soon as you let go though, you reeled your fist back and sent it flying forward until you heard a satisfying crunch and a scream of pain from the traitor.

Without a look back, you allowed Remus and Sirius to grab either arm and begin to drag the struggling man out and you went to the trio that was still in the corner.

“Are you all alright?” You repeated your earlier question.

“Was that him? The man that turned my parents in?” Were Harry’s only words.

Ron and Hermione silently exchanged glances before slipping out of the room to give the two of you some space.

Biting down on your lip, you nodded your head and immediately wrapped your arms around the boys shaking form, “Yeah, yeah it was.”

“Did you almost kill him?” His words were slightly muffled through where he was resting his head against your shirt.

“Yes,” You didn’t even try to lie to him, “And I would have if I wasn’t reminded that you still needed me out here, not needing me to be thrown into Azkaban.”

He looked up at you with tear filled eyes, “But that’s where he’s going?”

You sighed and nodded, “Yeah, yeah. That’s where he’s going.”

Can music save your mortal soul?

“I miss James.” Sirius spoke up after a comfortable silence had been sitting over the two of you for many moments.

You hummed, glancing at the man from the corner of your eye, “Yeah, I do too.” You said quietly.

You both sat a little bit away from the group, staring up at Hogwarts, so beautiful and lit up at night.

Neither of you spoke for another minute before you blurted out, “I’m sorry.”

He turned to you with furrowed eyebrows, “What for?”

“I didn’t at first…” You spoke hesitantly, “But I guess over time I began to believe that you really had betrayed them.” You shook your head roughly with a scoff, “There was just not other explanation and I couldn’t let myself live like that anymore. Going it over again and again in my head without end to try and figure out what really happened-“

“Hey,” He cut you off by placing a hand on your shoulder, “It’s alright, Y/n. I get it, I promise you, I do.”

“It’s still not fair to you.” You whispered.

“Maybe not,” He agreed, “But at least now we both can rest knowing that we put away the man that really betrayed them.”

And can you teach me how to dance real slow?

You let curiosity take over and you blindly let your feet begin to walk by themselves towards the kitchen, where music appeared to be floating from.

Pausing at the entrance, you took in the sight before you. Harry was gently bobbing his head up and down to the music that played out of an old music player that sat on the counter as he made cookies a few feet away.

“This was your father’s favorite song,” You made your presence known with a small voice.

He startled, eyes whipping up to you frantically before relaxing when he realized it was just you, “Really?” He asked.

You nodded, “He would drive me and mum crazy by blasting it in his room with Sirius. They would sing at the top of their lungs to see who would get yelled at first between the two of them. It was always James though.” A fond smile played at the ends of your lips.

“Sirius didn’t tell me he liked this song.” He said, resuming his previous activities.

“Eh,” You waved it off, “There’s too many memories we have with your father to keep them all straight.”

He laughed lightly at that, “Wanna help with the cookies?”

You smiled and went to stand beside him, listening to your brother’s favorite song.

Well I know that you're in love with him

“Aunt Y/n?” Harry called hesitantly, shuffling into your room.

“What’s up?” You asked, looking up from your book with a raised eyebrow.

The boy's cheeks turned red and he began stuttering, “U-uh, how- how do I tell a girl that- that I l-like her?” He looked like he was about to die from embarrassment.

Immediately, you snapped your book shut and patted the empty spot on your bed next to you for him to sit down, which he did.

“Who is it?” You asked automatically, a small smirk pulling at the ends of your lips.

Quickly, he shot out of his seat, “You know what, this was a bad idea-“

“Hey, hey, no.” You stopped smirking, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just excited, is all. Tell me about her.”

“Her- her name is Cho,” He mumbled, eyes averted to where he was fiddling with his fingers, “And I really like her but I don’t know what to do.”

You smiled softly, wrapping your arm around the boys shoulder and pulling him down onto the bed beside you, “Just tell her how you feel.” You told him, “That’s the best thing you can do. No big gestures or confusing signals, just the honest truth.”

“What if she doesn’t like me back?” He looked up at you as he softly spoke the question.

You squeezed his shoulders lightly, “Then she’s an idiot.” You reassured him.

He laid there for a moment, taking in your words before nodding along slightly, “Thank you,” He mumbled.

You playfully poked his side, “Look at my little boy growing up.” You teased.

Harry scoffed a bit, cheeks tinting red again as he tried to push your hands away, “Shut up.” He protested weakly.

“Hey,” You pressed a gentle kiss on his forehead, “Let me know how it goes. Okay, bud?”

He nodded, standing up and quickly scurrying out of the room to be saved from any further embarrassment.

'Cause I saw you dancing in the gym

“The Triwizard Tournament?” You burst out, leaning back in your chair and running a hand through your hair, “What kind of bullshit is that?”

Harry grimaced, “I kinda don’t have a choice in it, Aunt Y/n.”

You rubbed two hands down your face before looking down at your nephew through the floo network, “I know, but why does it always have to be you?”

“Because I'm special?” He weakly joked.

A scoff escaped your lips, “Yeah, that’s special alright… Just- just promise me that you’re gonna be careful.”

“Of course I will,” He reassured you before shaking his head and laughing to himself, “I feel like this is the only conversation we ever have.”

“That,” You glared pointedly at him, “Is because of your father. The two of you always seem to attract trouble, whether you want to or not.”

You both kicked off your shoes

“He-he was killed right-right in front of me-“ Harry sobbed into your arms as you gently rocked him back and forth, tears of your own sitting in your eyes.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” You kept mumbling over and over again into his hair, where you had buried your face.

He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve any of the shit that happened to him or anything that he was forced to live through. And of course, the Triwizard Tournament just had to be added to that list, and Voldemort was really back this time.

“Cedric is gone,” He choked out, hands gripping onto your arms tightly- desperately- as if they were a lifeline for him.

“I know, I know,” You blinked and tears slipped down your face, “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

Then I dig those rhythm and blues

“We’re getting the Order back together,” Sirius informed you, leaning back in his chair with a small grin, “So I suppose I’m here to recruit you.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest, “Because the last Order ended so well.” You shot out sarcastically.

The man’s smile faltered, “It’ll be different this time.”

For some reason, those words only made you angrier, and you harshly pushed back your chair and stood up, pointing accusingly at him with a glare , “In what sense?” You hissed, “In the sense that I don’t have a brother to lose anymore? In the sense that it’s just another war?”

He shook his head from side to side sadly, clearly trying not to take your words to heart, “In the sense that you have Harry to think about and look after this time.”

That made you freeze, just like he knew it would, and you dropped back down into your seat, “Shit,” You cursed softly, running a hand through your hair.

“We will win this time,” He told you confidently, reaching out and squeezing your hand, “We’ll avenge James, Lily, and everyone else that we lost the first time around.”

Hesitantly, you began nodding, “Fine, I’m in.”

I was a lonely teenage broncin' buck

“What the hell were you thinking?” You shouted over the chaos, eyes panickingly sweeping over Harry for any sign of pain, your hands tightly gripping his shoulders.

All around you, Order members and Death Eaters shot curses at one another with no sign of slowing.

“I- I thought he had you and Sirius,” The boy quickly explained, “I couldn’t reach either of you and it was driving me crazy, I couldn’t just sit by and do nothing.”

“Why would Voldemort have brought us to the Ministry?” You hissed at his idiocy before sighing heavily and stepping back slightly, “Okay, okay, I would’ve done the same. I’m sorry for getting mad.”

Tears began to fill his eyes, “I’m sorry for coming here.”

“Hey, hey,” You rushed to comfort him, “It’s not your fault.”

“Y/n!” Sirius called with a grunt from nearby, narrowly blocking a curse thrown his way, “I hate to break up your little Potter reunion, but I could use some help over here!”

With one last smile at Harry, you tightened your grip on your wand and took off in Sirius’s direction, the sound of footsteps behind you letting you know that he had followed you.

Quickly, you threw a stunning curse towards Sirius opponent, sending him flying back into a nearby wall.

“It’s just like old times!” Only Sirius could grin that wildly despite the circumstances.

You scoffed playfully as Harry joined the two of you, both blocking two separate curses in sync, “If this were like old times, then you’d be owing me a drink for saving you!” You teased.

For a split second, he diverted his attention away from the task at hand to smile wider at you, “Maybe I’ll get you one-“

He was cut off by a blinding flash of green being sent directly to his chest.

Both of you froze in sync and you were forced to watch with your feet glued to the ground as he looked between you and Harry with a small smile before his body was pulled into a nearby veil.

Your blood curling scream sounded through the room long before Harry’s did, and you were practically numb to the arm that Remus wrapped around both of you as you each sobbed violently.

You weren’t even able to register the way the man himself was shaking with tears, but he didn’t let up his grip on you and Harry.

How many more times did this have to happen for you to become immune? How many more people did you have to lose before you stopped shedding tears in their names?

With a pink carnation and a pickup truck

With a shaky sigh, you dropped the pink carnation bouquet that you had picked out into a vase you and filled with water and let it rest on the counter, where you then let your head fall and rest upon.

“What’s with the flowers?” Harry piped up softly from behind you.

You raised your head to look at the beautiful plants slightly before signing again, “When Sirius first moved in with us, he didn’t know how he could ever thank my parents for what they had done for him. So he started doing little things to say thank you, meaningful things. One of them was picking a bundle of these types flowers that grew nearby the house and bringing them to my mother, getting her new ones every time the others died.”

He nodded in understanding, gazing at the pink leaves, “They’re beautiful.”

A hum of agreement left your lips, “My mother thought so too.”

But I knew I was out of luck

“With your bad luck, I’m surprised you three idiots made it this long.” You informed them with a small, playful scoff.

Hermione smiled a little bit, “Yeah, me too.”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m grateful for it!” Ron squeaked, and frowned a bit as the three of you laughed.

“Auntie, we have to get on the express.” Harry said softly.

You nodded a little bit, pursing your lips, “I know.”

“We’ll be careful,” Hermione promised, and you smiled softly at her while cupping her cheek, rubbing your finger up and down subconsciously.

“Oh, come here.” You quickly pulled all three children into a tight group hug before kissing every one of them on the tops of their heads.

The day the music died

“What happened that night?” You whispered, watching as Harry’s eyes glazed over quickly and his defenses went up.

He shrugged stiffly, and though you felt guilty for asking, you needed to know what really went down at Hogwarts the night that Dumbledore was killed. You needed to know how much Harry would be affected by it and how negative that affect would be.

“Harry,” You begged with a soft whisper, “I just want to help you.”

“I know,” He admitted with a sigh, dropping his head against the back of the couch you both sat on in your living room.

Silence fell over you for a few minutes that consisted of you chewing on your bottom lip nervously before he finally spoke up again, “We need to prepare for a war.”

His words made your head snap over to him in alarm, “Don’t talk like that,”

“It’s true,” He insisted, turning his body to face you, “After everything that’s been happening, we both know it’s coming.”

You shook your head stubbornly, tears filling in your eyes, “Don’t you talk like that,” You warned through gritted teeth, “Your parents died so you would never have to live through a war like we did.”

He sighed, reaching over and wrapping his arms around you, “I know,” He whispered into your hair as you leaned your head against his chest, “But it’s true. And I’d rather fight and defend others than not and watch them die.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, “But you're just kid.”

“I know.”

“It’s not fair.”

“…I know.”

“Please reconsider this, Harry.” You turned so you were staring up at him with wide eyes, “I know that I’m not your parent, but please, don’t go through with this. This isn’t what they would want for you.”

“Would they prefer I stand by and do nothing?” You fell silent, “They fought in the first war, and if they were still alive, they would fight in this one in a heartbeat… you know I’m right.”

You dropped your head in defeat, because you did know that he was right.

“Then I’m fighting with you,” You sat up.

He was quick to shake his head, “I don’t want you getting hurt-“

“You forget that I’m the adult here, Harry.” You reminded him sternly, “And if I can’t stop you from doing this, then you can’t stop me either.”

Slowly, he nodded, “Okay… okay… We’ll do this together.”

I started singing bye-bye, Miss American Pie

You gripped your wand tightly as your eyes scanned the forest back and forth, you quickly glanced behind you at the sound of leaves crunching.

“Under different circumstances,” You spoke as Harry sat beside you, “This place would be beautiful.”

He hummed in agreement, looking around as well.

The tent that Ron and Hermoine were in rested a few yards back, where they hopefully were sleeping off the craziness of the day.

“Your mother would kill me if she knew I wasn’t sending you to school this year,” You laughed softly at your own words.

Harry chuckled beside you, kicking at the ground a little bit when his smile faded, “I wish I didn’t have to drag you all into this.” His face was twisted up with guilt.

“Hey,” You grabbed onto his hand and shook it slightly, “This was our choice, we all knew what we were getting into. But we all love you, so it’s gonna be worth it.”

“What if one of us doesn’t make it?” He wondered out loud, voice barely above a whisper.

All at once, your body stiffened, “Don’t talk like that.”

“It’s true though!” He cried, “What if Ron, Hermione, or-or y-you die because I dragged you into this?”

“And what if we hadn’t come along?” You rounded on him, “What then? Would it have been you that died?” You asked furiously, “I would die in a heartbeat to keep you safe- all of you.”

He paled at your words, looking slightly nauseated, “You can’t die.” He whispered.

“Then we’re going to drop this discussion.” You determined, “And neither of us are going to think about it again. Got it?”

He nodded numbly and you sighed, “Come ‘ere,” You muttered, wrapping your arm around him.

Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry

The snow fell gently across the town that you had once viewed as beautiful. That is, until your brother and sister in law moved into a certain quaint house and your entire life was flipped upside down.

You swallowed harshly, fighting with every bone in your body not to turn around and sprint in the other direction with every step forward that you took.

Hermione and Ron had gone off to a small coffee shop, muttering about giving you and Harry some space.

The boy had his arm tightly locked around yours and he seemed to be struggling just as much as you were, both of you with your feet frozen right in front of the cemetery.

“I haven’t visited this place,” You admitted with a guilty whisper, “Not once. I didn’t even show up to the funeral. I couldn’t.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Harry asked you hesitantly, eyeing you sideways.

You forced a tight smile on your face and gave him one nod of confirmation, “It’s about time I said goodbye for real.” Before adding, “Both of us.”

With that, arm in arm, you slowly made your way past the gravestones until you came upon two side by side with the names of Lily and James Potter printed across them.

You inhaled sharply at the sight of it, blinking away tears, knowing that they would freeze instantly on your face if you let them loose.

Slowly, Harry took out his wand and muttered a small spell that Hermione no doubt taught him, and a bundle of pink carnations appeared on each of their graves.

A watery laugh left your lips at his actions, causing a small smile to pull at the ends of his own lips, “They’re beautiful, Harry.”

He rested his head against the top of yours and you each silently said your own goodbyes to the ones that you lost.

Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye

“Look! They’re here! They’re here!” Students all around you cheered, and you couldn’t help but feel a slight spark of happiness at the looks of hope and joy on their faces.

When you and the children had returned to Hogwarts to finish what had been started, you hadn’t expected all of these students to begin cheering your names as they finally got their first sign of hope in seemingly months.

As your eyes scanned through the sea of kids, you knew that you couldn’t let them down. They had all lost so much, being forced to go through what you and your peers had back then in some ways, and you would be damned if you let them suffer any longer.

Glancing over at Harry, you knew instantly that he had the same thoughts.

Singing, "This'll be the day that I die"

“No!” You screamed so loud that it felt like your throat was ripping, but you could barely feel it over the pain in your heart, “No! No! No!”

Molly let out a sob, quickly wrapping her arms around you to stop you from running forward towards the Death Eaters at the sight of Harry’s limp body in Hagrid’s arms.

“Harry Potter is dead!” Voldemort announced with a malicious grin, thoroughly enjoying watching as your entire world came crashing down right on top of you, suffocating your lungs.

It felt as though he held your heart in his disgusting hands and was squeezing it in an agonizingly painful way.

Arthur had to make his way over and wrap an arm around you as well, your sheer strength from anger and denial making it impossibly difficult for Molly to hold you alone.

You couldn’t even hear the rest of what The Dark Lord had to say over your hopeless, despair-filled cry’s that raked through your entire body violently.

Harry was the only thing that had kept you going after all these years, after what happened. And with him being gone now, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to go on. Not without him.

Then, without warning, Harry’s body rolled out of Hagrid's hold and he jumped up, locking eyes with you briefly before picking up his wand and pointing it at Voldemort.

You gasped, a large amount of air filling into your lungs for the first time since thinking he was dead, to much in a state of shock to even register the chaos that erupted all around you as everyone sprang into action, firing spell after spell at the opposing side.

When you finally snapped out of it though, you sprang forward and fired a deadly curse towards Voldemort, years of rage and heart brokenness behind it for everyone and everything you lost at his hand.

He barely even glanced at you as he deflected it and sent a light of green straight into your chest.

This will be the day that I die

It was over. The only war was finally over. And for the first time in weeks, Harry felt himself smile as he desperately looked around for you. Despite all the two of you had gone through, at least you would be able to enjoy the new world- one rid of Voldemort- together. A world that was finally safe.

His eyebrows furrowed and he paused in his steps when he caught sight of Hermione, Ron, Molly, and Arthur all standing in a circle in the middle of a hallway, every one of them crying.

He moved forward to see what was the matter, “What is it? What’s wrong-“

Harry cut himself short and he felt all the air get knocked out of his lungs, sending him falling to his knees, “A-auntie?” He stuttered out, mouth running dry as he looked down at your limp form on the ground.

Your lips were parted slightly and your eyes were wide open, staring unseeingly at a nearby pile of rubble.

Everyone’s heads snapped over to him and Molly fell down beside him, wrapping her arms around the boy, “Oh, Harry-“

He immediately shrugged off her hands, instead frowning slightly and beginning to shake your shoulders, “Auntie? Aunt Y/n, wake up.”

All anyone could do was just stand there and watch silently with tears streaming down their faces.

“No,” He choked out when you didn’t stir, “No, wake up. Please, please wake up,” He begged through sobs, “We’re free, we’re finally free. Wake up!”

Nobody left his side, not for a single second of the hour he sat there, screaming- pleading- begging- you to wake up until his throat was raw and scratchy and he fell backwards on his heels.

“All she ever wanted was what was best for me.” The boy whispered, “That's all she ever wanted.”

“Then let’s give her that,” Molly spoke softly, hugging him again, “Honor her by living your life to the fullest. She wanted your happiness more than anything in this world.”

Harry looked down at you once more, the woman that had taken him in on her own free will in order to honor her brother and lost friends. The woman who raised him and taught him everything he knew. The woman who gave him everything. The woman who sacrificed herself so that he could keep living his life.

It’s LeviOsa 🪄- @i-writes-things @kiyomi-uchiha777

[a-wonderful-danganronpa]

🎁 Happy holidays from A Wonderful Danganronpa! (12/25)

[NO SPOILERS]

🐰 USAMI:

"Bwuh? It’s Christmas again? Um, I mean, the Very Eternal Birthday of the Empress Ryoko Otonashi. Or was it the Birthday of the Very Eternal Empress Ryoko Otonashi…? I always try to make a calendar of these things…but then I forget where I put the calendar…and also I can’t write... Awawawa—wait! No time to mosey about thinking stormy thoughts! The students need their presents…! Pip pip cheerio…!"

Looks like the Monastery's celebrating the winter holidays. Click under the cut to see how each character responds to their gift...

📖 SUZURAN DUSTCRAWL:

“GUH! Nope, don’t want it. Don’t need it. Put it in the incinerator. Drop it off a cliff. Hold a funeral for it and invite everyone you know. This box has something in there. Something foul and evil and classified as an infectious disease— Oh…it’s from Usami. That’s…better? … …this will be nice when it gets warmer out. The coat I’m wearing right now—you know…the monks, Usami, they’ve told me that I patched and sewed a lot of it myself, but they’re just making fun of me. I know they’re just making fun of me. I can’t hold anything in my skull, but I’d remember if I had that kind of skill—and everyone always has to make fun of me. This place is a frigging circus and I’m the star of the freak show. All spotlights on Suzuran…flash on, flash off…tomatoes tossed in my general direction. Booooooo. … …this sure is a nice sweater, though.”

🎁❄️🎁❄️🎁❄️

🚦 SENJU THE EXCELLENT: 

“Ohohohoho! So it appears heaven once again claims me as their chosen one! Behold: tribute! Behold: mistletoe above, spontaneously sprung, that sweet plant of summertime births! Who might I find underneath? You must think I’m the sort who feeds from the bottom of the river…that just anyone will do. And indeed, I am a privilege…but she is also a privilege. I have my hopes my beloved will wander this way…I have had my hopes all my life.”

🎁❄️🎁❄️🎁❄️

🕰️ SIX SHINODA:

“Oh, fuck a mother. She’s coming this way with a box. Yes, yes, thank you, Headmaster…goddamn it. I appreciate the thought. Hmm. It’s…good, actually. No—I really do appreciate the thought. I grew up with so many siblings that as we all got older, people opted to simply give my parents wine as a gift…which ended up with we thirteen children, generally. But wine is just a crutch. It’s all just a crutch, alcohol. Give me cigarettes any day. Or failing that…anyway: I would like to enjoy my alone time smoking in the future, if at all possible.”

🎁❄️🎁❄️🎁❄️

🩸 WISTERIA ITO:

“<hic> Lovely, lovely Usami. Saw you hitting up sweet Six over there. Her face looked sour, but it’s always looked that way: she’s…<hic> gorgeously cruel. Oh, I miss it. Oh, I’m positively shiiiivering at the memory. <hic> Or I’m faltering on these legs that have carried me so far. This could be my very last night, you know. But if my luck continues, I am so sorry for the fact I am about to vomit directly on your feet. … This frog, by the way…<hic> There are no laws surrounding its experimental use, did you know? Not that I think the Empress’s influence carries very far up here. Mmhmhm…yes, there is a lot I can do with this little man.”

🎁❄️🎁❄️🎁❄️

🌕 YUWA GLADIA:

“Thy generosity honors me, Headmaster! Ah, when the snow falls in such a way, I am reminded of mine own home village in the mountains, and a verse so ancient: The woods are lovely, dark and deep,/But I have promises to keep,/And miles to go before I sleep… Ah? Nay, ‘tis not a poem of mine, but inspiration tonight clutcheth my soul. Mayhaps this is the year I shall finish an epic about the old Hope’s Peak Academy. … Er—I should not speak on it, but—indeed, Kaname dwelleth in the vents tonight.”

🎁❄️🎁❄️🎁❄️

🦈 KANAME YOSHIDA:

“THE TAG SAYS—KANAME YOSHIDA. YES—YOU SPELLED IT RIGHT. I’M JUST STILL GETTING USED TO THAT. THE NAME. I’VE NEVER HAD MUCH USE FOR—KANAME YOSHIDA. OR FOR GIFTS. I KNOW IT’S THE EMPRESS’S BIRTHDAY—BUT THIS ISN’T A PROPOSITION—IS IT? I HOPE THAT DOESN’T SOUND TOO RUDE. … I HAVE TO ASK THAT I’M NOT GIVEN ANY MORE GIFTS. OH—IT’S—UM—LOVELY. IT COULD HELP ME FIND LEADS—THEORETICALLY. NEWS SHOWS. BUT WE—ALL THE KANAME YOSHIDAS OF THE WORLD—OWN NOTHING. WE ARE OWNED. IF THAT MAKES SENSE. I HOPE THAT DOESN’T SOUND TOO RUDE. … YES—I HAVE BEEN SLEEPING IN THE VENTS. THEY’RE WARM AT THIS TIME OF YEAR.”

🎁❄️🎁❄️🎁❄️

🍯 HACHIHEI ROUSEI:

“Let me help you, Headmaster. No, let me help you. Let me help. I am here to serve. That’s as Saint Tojo once said—but you know that. It’s illogical for you to deliver these all yourself on the day of our glorious Empress—you are positively and perfectly packed with presents, I must say! But I admire your persistence. You are one who makes the impossible possible, to paraphrase Momota the Luminary—you, a positively possible professor, perfectly packed with presents…so let me help you. This one is for me? I never did learn the kanji for my name, so…oh, it is for me. I’m…blessed that you would think me so worthy of a sliver of history like this. It’s practically an heirloom—I am worthy? I guess you’re right. Right and righteous in all regards and rational, too. Yes—I really do think you’re right.  Now let me help you!”

🎁❄️🎁❄️🎁❄️

✈️ FUBU FUSELAGE:

“A bear? A bear? Abearabearallcoveredinhair? For me? For little old me personally? Yahoo! Yippee! Wahoo! Hellyeahhooyeahbooyahetcetera! Buuuuuuuuuuut—Headmaster, Headmaster, Headmaster, I don’t think it’s going to help me sleep. I don’t need the gremlins to tell me that, nope nope notatall nope. I can go a long time without sleeping. Days weeks months. Years? I haven’t slept in four days. Too excited for the Empress’s birthday! ToofreakingSTOOOOOOOOOOOOOKED!!!”

🎁❄️🎁❄️🎁❄️

🏍️ REIKA BOULEVARD:

“Um… … … …yes, this is…um, this is adequate. I know you can’t afford much as a Headmaster God and all, so, um… …I do think sometimes…that I could build a better rocket, you know. The vibrations in quartz…you could harness it for, um, anything. But, um…I really have no interest…unless my wife does. Um… Tonight I’m finding a wife…I’ve put up mistletoe everywhere, like the Book says to do. Please don’t take it down…you slut.”

🎁❄️🎁❄️🎁❄️

🌀 HIKARI SEKI:

“Nyuhuhuhuh! And here I thought you were a goshin’ Neanderthal like the rest of these farm animals. Turns out you understand the civilized things in life, don’t you, Headmaster? I guess you’d have to if you wanted to keep a place like this running. I can’t even imagine the kinds of troglodytes you have mucking up such a holy hall. Barbaric! Tell you what: let’s go bird-watching when the weather warms up. Then I can decide if you’re a real AI with a brain like a human’s or just a robo-monkey. Nyuhuhuhuh!”

🎁❄️🎁❄️🎁❄️

🎸 MELVILLE POINTE:

“No one ever has to do anything like this for me, yeah? It’s unnecessary for gifts to arrive on my doorstep, yeah? Is it understood that this ukulele is too much? Is it understood that I’m just a guy? Headmaster. This is way too much for just a guy, yeah? If it’s important to keep it, I’ll keep it, right? I’ll make good use of it. But the gifts, is it possible to stop with them? Is it possible for me to have peace on this night? Or at all? But nevermind. Do you hear me when I say nevermind?”

🎁❄️🎁❄️🎁❄️

💥 TEISUKE NAGAMORI:

“Now this is what I’m talkin’ about, Headmiss. I gotta keep everyone on watch. Not that I don’t trust y’all’s healers and the like, but I know some old cures that you ain’t ever heard of, ‘cause they’re in no book. Cures against…the unnatural. Like anything that Ito girlie could do to you. Eugh. Headmiss, what’re y’all doing that you’re letting witches into a place like this? She might be at half-power but they’re most dangerous when they’re in their death throes. I ain’t wish no harm on her but if she steps outta line…trust me, I know what they can do. You tell me if you think you got a fever...or, unrelated, if you need a fireworks show for the festivities.”

🎁❄️🎁❄️🎁❄️

🧚 IZUMO OHIGATA:

“Hell fucking yessssss~ 🎶 It’s mother fucking fuuuuudge~ 🎶 But I can’t eat it right this moment, or I’ll spoil my appetite. There is gonna be a cake later, right? Oooh, I can feel that tonight’s gonna be a real one. I can feeeeeeeeel it~ 🎶 Protagonists like me have that sense. Call it…main character syndrome. Something real important is gonna happen. Oh, like maybe someone will die, and all their insides will spill out, and I’ll have to sew them back in with their own foot tendons. Shit, I’m hungry for cake just thinking about it. When’s the cake come out pleaaaaaaaaaase~? 🎶”

🎁❄️🎁❄️🎁❄️

♟️ MASATO NOBORU:

“Hah! Yes! Splendid! Headmaster, I shall have to pick your most brilliant godly brain. When I graduate from here, I’ll be starting a school of my own. Not to compete, mind you, heavens no. To teach others what I know of chess! How wonderful! I’ll use this to organize my thoughts and notes. Oh, and this reminds me of my days in Novoselic amongst the Makongo farmers. Such wild and spectacular customs they had, including roasting its genitalia on a—hah, but to understand that story you must hear of the time I spent in the slums of Towa City, dueling ne’er-do-wells in bars. Each day was a struggle for survival with only my ivory pieces and—hah, but the details you need to know about that come from my month in the Arctic, the dangers of which I somehow escaped. With all extremities intact, believe it or not, and a chess board made of scrimshaw to boot. Hah, now I remember, I meant to ask you if you’ve ever heard of Ludenberg Castle, since its original owner, I believe, attended the Monastery long ago—I shall have to ask the young librarian if there are any writings here about her. But this notebook—yes, I have the perfect pen to use in it, too. A most splendid pen! A divine pen! I must show it to you sometime, Headmaster. There are legends surrounding this pen, which my partner’s ancestors had stolen from a temple dedicated to the Saints, and which had been passed down through the ages to him—many say it is a haunted pen, but I do believe it is simply old—and how it smells of stink bug. But it never runs out of ink! Hah, oh, if only he could see me now—my partner. I wonder what he would think. When we traversed the seas on his one-man cruise ship—which he had named for me, the lad—he used to tell me…”

🎁❄️🎁❄️🎁❄️

🏹 YAEKO TOGAMI:

“Well, now, a fine salutationing to you too, Headmaster. Gotta say, I don’t really need anything for the holidays on account of my most extensive adundunce—abund—abundunce? But I’m never one to turn down a fishing rod…especially since no one wanted to come to my pre-party hunting trip. There’s bears and beasties and all kinds of craters—creamers—yeah, craters, up here in the mountains. Creatures. Craters. Crumbles.  Say, you know, next year if you really wanna get me something, you should get me the gift of you, y’know? Run around a little and let me put some arrows in your noggin? I’ll even have ‘em made costume out of pink gold so they’ll match your rosy red cheeks. Custom, yeah, that’s what I meant. And it’s not like I’ll let you suffer! I’ll have the Togami Conglomerate pay for a new divine body right after, so long as you let me chop off your head. It’d look splendiferous above my mettle. Mantle. It’s mettle, right? Anyway, then everyone’s bound to respect me…”

🎁❄️🎁❄️🎁❄️

⚛️ VERITAS YOBIYAMA:

“What? Headmaster, these are my favorite flavor. How’d you know these are my fave…? You asked? I don’t remember you asking. I DON’T remember you ASKING. Don’t you LIE to me. DON’T YOU LIE TO ME, HEADMASTER!!!!! I’m perfectly calm. I wasn’t raising my voice. Only liars raise their voice and Veritas Yobiyama is no liar. I would NEVER lie. I would NEVER LIE! I WOULD NEVER LIE TO YOU, HEADMASTER! WHAT’S YOUR PROBLEM? HUH? WHAT’S YOUR PROBLEM????????? Serenity now. Serenity now. Say, I should get you something in return. It’s only fair, man. I don’t want this to be a one-way street. That’s dishonest. That’s DISHONEST serenity now. Unless…you’re trying to start a competition with me. Seeing who can give the most gifts. To each other. To others. Is that what this is about? IS THAT what this is ABOUT? Because Veritas Yobiyama can GO, Headmaster! I CAN GO!!! WE CAN GO RIGHT FUCKING NOW, HEADMASTER!!!”

🎁❄️🎁❄️🎁❄️

⚪⚫ ???:

“Aww, shucks. No one ever invites me to their parties…especially not my beloved big sister, Usami. Womp womp. Well, nothin’ to be done about it. Not like I can get out from under here myself, after all. But as that old veggie group once said: I got a feeling~ 🎶 And I got a feeling…that I’ll be out of here quite soon indeed. Puhuhuhu…puhuhuhu.  Tonight’s gonna be a good night, ‘cuz I’m going back to sleep. For now. See you laaaater…”

[thelazycorset]

A Glimpse of Us

Geto x gn!Reader The reader is a sorcerer, with a unique domain

You inhaled deeply, enjoying every second of the time you have. A strong musky fragrance tickled your nose, with a hint of gunpowder and something that smelled like the ocean. You threaded your fingers through the silky, dark hair, eliciting a sweet hum from its owner.

You smiled, eyes still closed as you felt his arms hook around your waist, pulling you even closer.

“Gosh, I love you.”, he said, voice deep but so, so sweet.

You opened your eyes to find his already staring at you.

“I love you too, Suguru.”

He smiled, but it was tinged with pain. He knew that this time he had with you wasn’t going to last forever. It was going to end painfully; physically for him, and emotionally for you.

“Don’t look at me like that, Suguru.”, you sighed, wanting to make the most of the little time you had.

He immediately corrected himself and smiled, truly happily.

“I’m sorry.”

You held back tears as you leaned over to kiss his forehead, the scar from those hideous stitches scratching against your lips.

You held him there, lips against his scars, hands in his hair, as you allowed yourself to feel all the emotions that had been piling up inside your chest.

Suguru held you as you sobbed, hating himself for having to put you through this pain.

But he had to do this, for the sake of the people he loved the most.

And sadly, the only one who could help him end this misery, was the one person he loved the most.

You.

He nudged you to look at him, and held your tear streaked cheek as he spoke.

“I’m so sorry, my love…”, he said, voice lowering, “But it’s time.”

You sucked in a breath, and nodded.

You knew this is why you were here. It was comfortable, but agonising.

It had been a while since you had heard about Geto’s death. You were heartbroken and destroyed. But you somehow made it through the agonising nights and drab days.

Everything was finally going well, when he walked in through the door.

You saw him, standing so tall and alive, that you almost thought that you must have been dreaming.

But then you felt him.

The presence that had taken over your beloved’s body. A curse so evil and strong, that it almost overshadowed Geto’s energy.

You just stared at him, feeling the time around you freeze.

You hadn’t been in contact with anybody from jujutsu high for quite a while. The last time you spoke to Gojo, you had fought, during Geto's funeral.

The man, who was a mix of two sorcerers, turned to look at you, sensing your gaze. He seemed perplexed. 

You couldn’t read his face. He looked nonchalant, until you saw a sliver of shock.

He smiled at you, a crooked grin, as he said, “It’s been so long, y/n”

That’s when you broke out of the momentary spell, and gulped, choking out a feeble, “Yeah.”

Kenjaku cursed himself for running into one of Geto’s old buddies. He could sense the slight unease his body felt the moment he saw you looking at him, shock and an unknown expression on your face. He could remember your name, but for whatever reason, he couldn’t remember anything else about you.

He found it strange. It was almost as if Geto was purposefully keeping information from him.

But that was impossible, wasn’t it? Mahito had assured him that no traces of Geto remained in this body.

“You’re going to have to die now..”, he mumbled to himself, planning to lure you outside and get rid you in an alleyway; somewhere out of sight.

“Why don’t we head out of this cafe?”, he said, the smile ever-present.

“Why?”, you asked, not trusting him. You knew he was an enemy if he had taken over Geto’s body, but you couldn’t cause trouble here. The place was packed with people. And a fight here would mean many would get injured, if not worse.

“You know what, it’s been so long.”, you chimed quickly, “Sure, let’s get out of here.”

That’s how you got here, in your domain. Your domain separated the soul from the body. Any soul that enters, takes a form that it is most comfortable with. In this domain, everything is transparent. There are no lies, and everything is seen, including all the scars your soul has gathered throughout this lifetime.

This allowed you to talk to Geto, his soul. He explained everything that had happened, and how he needed you to do him a big favour. A favour that he hoped nobody would ever have to go through; to kill the person you love.

Your domain didn’t let Kenjaku enter, as you had control over whom to allow in. He remained on the edge, an area that was just outside the real world, but not fully inside your domain.

If you decided to let him enter, he would be equally as powerful as you and geto, which was fairer than in the real world, as Geto had little to no control there.

In your heart, you held a lot of love for Suguru. When your souls entered the domain, you felt the scar on your chest, a reflection of the hurt your heart had felt when he passed.

You were both selfish, utilising this time to express your love to each other, and mutter those promises that had been left unsaid back then. That’s how you found yourself lying next to him on a silk bed, with sounds of birds and nature singing you awake from outside the window of the quaint house you were in.

It was all fake. 

A mere figment of your imaginations; a glimpse of the life you both had wanted.

“Is it already time for us to go?”, you whispered, scared to let go. You wouldn’t mind exhausting all your energy in keeping this domain up, if it meant that you could spend more time here, with him.

He chuckled, kissing you.

“It is, I’m afraid.”

You nodded, looking down. You had to do this. This is what he wanted. He just wanted to die, peacefully.

With a flick of your wrist, you changed the scene.

The house was gone, so was your bed. The sheets you both had spent hours shuffling were replaced by a darkness, everlasting and endless.

He stood a few feet from you, smiling, hope in his eyes.

That’s when you realised just how tired he was.

He looked forward to death.

“Okay.”, you whispered, a sad smile on your face.

“I loved you Geto. I always will.”

A flame rose in his chest, eating away at him.

That’s when you closed the domain, merging kenjaku and Suguru’s soul in that split second.

In the real world, you saw Geto bend over, clutching his chest.

He looked up at you, eyes wide, “What the fuck have you done?!”

“Rest in peace, Suguru.”, you said, a tear escaping.

“And I hope you go to hell.”

You watched him collapse to the ground, flames engulfing his body.

This time, you will see it through.

This time, you wont leave early.

This time, you will ensure that’s its a final goodbye.

[speedierthanasubmarine]

Finished heaven official’s blessing and I really enjoyed writing an analysis on helluva boss I want to make this a regular thing because it’s fun so here’s my thoughts on

Heaven Official’s Blessing

Spoilers (duh)

I think it’s incredibly impressive when someone can make an overarching narrative in which different seemingly disjointed events are significant without A) putting a giant exclamation mark on top saying “REMEMBER THIS IT WILL BE IMPORTANT LATER” and B) Significantly over or under emphasizing the importance of the scene in the moment. Each event stood on its own and I liked that.

There were several janky sentences and word choices but that’s a translation issue, this writer clearly knows what she’s doing.

Characters were a lot of fun and distinct, my favorites were Feng Xin, Pei Ming, Qi Ying, and Ling Wen whenever they were on the page I was like Ah yes, these pages are gonna be enjoyable and I was right, they’re all delightful (cept the brocade immortal stuff, but like I don’t care, Google assistant is fun) Xie Lian and San Lang are delightful, love them, and San Lang is so effed in the head it’s enjoyable to try and imagine what unhinged thing he’ll do next

Tbh there isn’t much plot breakdown I want to do with this series because it knows what it is, it’s a fanfic ass book with good times, trauma, gay fluff, and fights. Need I say more? That’s not a detractor, it’s a strength. Be what you are and own it because a house with a house’s foundation is a great house but slap a building on that house’s foundation and it fails in both regards.

The only aspect I’m going to analyze is the narrative voice the books are written in because holy crap is it super impressive. Xie Lian is a super mature (or ditzy, depending on your point of view) character, he doesn’t dwell on things, doesn’t hold grudges, doesn’t really care that much about people’s histories or even their present, doesn’t focus much on externals and it comes through in the way the book is written. I noticed this when throughout the books San Lang would do fucked up stuff like make it rain blood and kill a pit’s worth of people and Xie Lian kinda didn’t really seem to care and at first it pissed me off, why isn’t the author letting consequences occur because of these peoples’ actions, but then as it held consistently throughout the book and other people kept being super concerned about stuff, like Pei Constantly asking after Shi Qingxuan (I don’t know how to spell their name, it’s so hard to keep track I’m so sorry) or people bringing up Banue, I realized this is just Xie Lian, other people in the book are regular people like me, this one guy is just experiencing things, going “Well, ain’t that something” and then just moving on. Honestly iconic, but also I was halfway through book six when I realized. Especially since whenever they do flashbacks Xie Lian does all normal stuff. He describes settings he’s in, he mentions events that happened a few pages ago, he tells the reader how he feels, it’s after he experiences all his shit he goes through that this all kinda slips away. In “present” scenes he’ll reference things as they come up but like in the flashback after Mu Qing leaves they talk about it a few times and I find that aspect of acknowledgment to be noticeably absent in the “present” scenes. After the black water arc there is a complete lack of discussion about the frankly trauma inducing event that just transpired but sure Cie Lian, you and San Lang have to not hold hands for the billionth time. At first I thought is this author high but then I realized what shes doing is characterizing through prose which is IMPRESSIVE AS HELL. This may be a point I noticed and am now misremembering the entire series just to bolster my take and if that’s the case then I shall sheepishly shrug and say I’m sorry. I’m not rereading 8 books to write a tumblr review. Maybe if I ever start a YouTube channel

I don’t know, I just find it to be an incredible feat of actually good writing when a story is being told through the lens of the main character and you can characterize that character by simply reading the story and seeing how it’s written, not even through dialogue and action. It’s kinda like the Great Gatsby or a Separate Peace, and it’s super cool that a book like this can accomplish the same thing that makes those classics great. There isn’t as much symbolism or analytical potential but those books wouldn’t be nearly as impactful as they were without great execution, which this book pulled off in spades.

[ssweeterthanfiction]

hello my lovelies!

ok so i figured i'd makes this post cause its been on my mind for a while now, but here's a little context/background for reader's games/a litttle peak into the way the capitol treats her and why (everything will be expanded on more in GOU just thought i'd make a small post laying everything out instead of jam packing everything into the chapters)

so reader's games were the 69th games, she was reaped at 16 but as said in ch.1 she looked younger during her games (REMEMBER THIS!!).

the arena was a tropical forest with small rivers and waterfalls that run into this BIG lake, so reader had an advantage with the water thing, she also had another HUGEEE adavantage. again in ch.1 we find out her mother is a healer! cause of this reader has some basic knowledge about certain herbs/berries/plants in general that are safe to consume and that will serve as like natural medicines. but what she doesn't know is how to like properly fight.

here's where the Capitol comes into play. off the bat, because she looks so much younger than she is, the Capitol citizens see her as this precious little thing that's fragile and that should be protected, which leds to the very sad and unfourtunate situation of the infantilization (did i spell that right?) of her. i'll probably expand on this in an entirely different post because i could talk abt this particular thing for HOURS.

okay so back to her games

it lasts around 11 days, during the bloodbath 10 tributes die, she and her district partner both get away fairly safe, she grabs two of the backpacks and he grabs a backpack and a spear. again, i’ll probably expand on their relationship more bc they’ve know eachother for a LONGGGG time.

anyways some like key things that happen during her games are her first kill, day 7 and day 9 (and 11 when she wins, duh.)

her first kill was COMPLETELY accidental, she was looking for food and found these berries, kinda like how katniss found the nightlock and then someone ate it and died, HOWEVER she when she finds these person that ate them she’s like in distraught and out of a panic (and instinct, remember her mother is a healer) she tries to like revive (?) them. the capitol takes this specific moment to highlight how “innocent” and how “loving and caring” she is. from this she starts getting a shit tone of sponsors.

day 7 her district partner dies (☹️), he dies protecting her from 2 tributes (district 2 boy, district 1 girl), he takes the girl from one out but dies while fighting the boy from 2. (after he killed the girl from one the boy from two grabbed reader and held a knife to her neck, it’s basically a whole ‘your life for hers’ type situation) reader ends up killing the boy from one with his discarded knife and then rushes back over to her district partner (just realized i don’t have a name for him….uhhh let’s call him like Kael or something) and she just stays by his side for the whole night. (again the Capitol uses this moment to like really highlight how loving and caring and kinds she is)

day 9 is OH GOD ITS AKSJKDND. so it’s at night and she’s kinda just hiding out but then 2 tributes find her little camp and she’s like practically forced to kill them, so now she has 4 kills (but she feels like she has 5 cause she blames herself for Kael dying).

anyways now it’s later and she can hear rustlings coming from the trees and then she sees like these mutts that start chasing after her, THE SCARY PART IS THAT THEYRE ALL THE PEOPLE SHE KILLED PLUS KAEL. AND SHE CAN HEAR THEYRE VOICES.

while she’s running away from them she’s like shouting “i’m sorry!” and “i didn’t mean to!” and like imagine Finnick watching from the Capitol during like a viewing party and thinking that she actually might die to these creatures.

anyways she gets away but is now like SEVERELY TRAUMATIZED from this (like she will get night mares in the future).

anyways she wins after a very HARD fight with the last tribute and once she’s back with Finnick she just cries in his arms and is shaking and it’s just ☹️

[adelarsims]

OC QUESTIONNAIRE: IVO

thank you @simarcana for the tag :)

if any of you wanted to know ivo a little better, here's your chance.

hello, my dear. i believe we never met... i'm the spellweaver here at the Academia, and a substitute librarian for the time being, until they find someone else for the job. so... in which capacity i may be of help?

NAME: that would depend on who you see in front of you right now, me or the... oh. then just Ivo is more than enough, there is no need to stand on ceremony ~

NICKNAME: with such a simple name as mine, no one really called me anything else. if you don’t count common words of endearment, but i don't think that counts.

GENDER: ...hmm. that made me think. i’m used to think of myself as a man, but when i imagine being offered a different opinion, it doesn’t feel alien or make me uncomfortable either... there's always something yet to be discovered about ourselves, isn't it.

STAR SIGN: Pisces, but you might not find it very fitting anymore, now that i... oh, apologies, i got a little distracted for a moment.

HEIGHT: i never bothered measuring my own height exactly. probably about 185 barefoot, a little over 190 on heels... why, does height difference bother you? i assure you, 171-cm-on-heels worth of the Grand Sage in a bad mood can be much more intimidating. ah, you want me to get you this book from the upper shelf? in that case, my dear, how about i teach you a little beckoning spell, if you have some free time on your hands? it will come in handy when i’m not around to help. ~

ORIENTATION: there was a time when i preferred one gender over all others. now i prefer not to prefer either. that is just for the best for everyone. i’m truly sorry if you asked out of... personal interest, my dear.

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: i’m afraid even i don't have the answer. i was here for as long as i can recall, but my childhood memories are rather... hazy. it was definitely warmer than here though, that much i remember.

FAVORITE FRUIT: peach, the juicier the better. even imagining it in my hand, its fuzzy skin still warm from the sun, juice streaming down my fingers and palm and staining my sleeve... ah, it almost makes me feel the taste in my mouth.

FAVORITE SEASON: summer. cold and damp weather can be very hard to endure, it takes a huge toll on my mind and body alike.

FAVORITE FLOWER: a whole field of forget-me-nots. and the apple tree blossoming in the warmest month of spring. it’s not something you could pluck for your amusement and put in a vase... you can only appreciate it and step away, carrying this moment of peace in your heart.

FAVORITE SCENT: oh, you know these thick, spicy scents that are an essential part of every tiny store that sells all kinds of fake occult knick-knacks impressionable young humans are so obsessed with? yeah, this scent. it’s just... so nostalgic for some reason.

COFFEE, TEA, or HOT CHOCOLATE: i much prefer pomegranate wine, my dear, but alas, now that i’m not allowed to drink alcohol anymore... it would be linden and melissa herbal tea. aside from its mild taste and soothing qualities, another great thing about it is that it never becomes tart even if you forget about it for a long time... however, i would also never say no to a cup of hot chocolate in a pleasant company ~

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: more than nine, preferably. sadly, i’m rarely given that luxury. everyone always needs something here, and you can't really say no when it's the Grand Sage who's asking, now can you?

DOGS or CATS: neither, my... guest doesn’t like animals. or, rather, they do not like to be in my presence anymore. why are you looking at me like that? i thought professor Ember warned you about... i see. apologies for confusing you then. at any rate, if i have to choose, then cats. a cat sleeps for twenty hours a day and wouldn't give me any trouble, while having a dog demands too much physical activity for my taste.

DREAM TRIP: anywhere warm, my dear. (...where i really want to go is to go back in time and make a different decision, one i won’t be regretting for the rest of my days, but...) oh, i look sad? these cold stones just aren’t good for my morale. winter this year was awfully long.

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: indefinite. nothing better for the night than making a warm cozy nest out of thick fluffy blankets. the flip side is that the warmer and cozier your blanket nest is, the more heartbreaking it is to leave it in the morning.

RANDOM FACT: there’s a belief among academia students that if you jump across the hall all the way to the statue of the First Sage on just one leg the day before the exam, and throw the note with your request, and the note stays in the statue’s hands, you will get an A+ without trying. no, no, not lazy, most of them prepare for exams anyway... it’s more of a tradition now. sometimes they write completely unrelated things. poems, love confessions to each other... someone even begged the statue to make professor Ember have a crush on them, poor soul. at least three poor souls a year, to be precise. how do i know all that? well... whose responsibility it is to retrieve all these notes from the statue, you think?

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tagging @kisica-plays, @pralinesims for OC you didn't answer this for, @agena87, @adoringsentiment, @kri-babe, @puppycheesecake and anyone who sees this and suddenly wants to hop on that train