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fieldofdaisiies · 11 months

Text

Alone

ship: Theodore Nott x Hufflepuff!Reader type: angst/fluff word count: 2,6k words warnings: mentions of racist parents, awful parent child relationship, talk of war and Death Eaters summary: Y/N and Theo are childhood friends, when she receives a howler from her mother that breaks her, he is there for her. (I'll blame @azrielscrown for her amazing Theo stories and hence making me want to write about him, and also @moonlightazriel for the tiktok videos she sent me hahaha)

It is quiet. So very quiet. All of a sudden everyone stops talking. There aren’t even any hushed whispers. Nothing.

It is so quite that one could hear a needle drop.

So quiet that even the mice in the smallest nooks and corners of the castle could hear your mother’s voice blaring out of the howler that has just unfolded itself in front of you. Its tongue poking out, the howler spats the exact same words your mother shouted into it in your family manor.

The words drip with venom. Disdain and disappointment lace every spoken syllable.

Your blood runs cold, your chin quivering, as you watch and listen in absolute shock. Your whole body has gone rigid, you don't even dare turn to glance around, not wanting to see the either mocking or pitiful looks of your school mates.

How would she know? How does she know? And why is she so mad?

It was just a school project, not your decision to spend time with him. You had to spend time with Harry Potter — it was for a Potions project, preparing a recipe, trying it out and then presenting it in class. It was project where you were assigned partners. A project where you were forced to spend time together. And even if you don't hate Harry, you would not have chosen to do the project. But you had no choice.

'The shame you brought upon this family by being sorted into Hufflepuff.'

There is a pause, and it is so long, so dreadful, so painful, and you just hope the letter won’t continue talking. Maybe it is over and the letter will just rip itself into shreds — the same shreds your heart has been ripped into when the letter started howling.

Or maybe a hole in the ground will open, and swallow you wholly? A ghost will appear and take you with him? A giant will crash both you and the letter?

But your prayers are ignored. Of course they are…

'And now, now you are doing partner work with him? Spending your free afternoons with him? What comes next? Dating a Muggle? Marrying one?'

'Y/N Y/L/N, in this house I allow none of that!'

Your best friend slides her hand into your cold one, squeezing it tightly. She is the purest and kindest soul Hufflepuff house has ever seen and in this very moment you are more grateful to have her than ever before. She somehow grounds you, stops your body from shaking or convulsing fully.

'I am deeply disappointed. So very much. What you do to this family, the shame you bring upon us.'

That’s how the letter ends. No well wishes, no goodbye, no I love you, no motherly love. Nothing.

You are shocked, sad, embarrassed — feeling too much. Too many emotions. Your heart can’t take them, can’t deal with them all at once and you know you have to leave, get away, escape. Cry. And be alone.

You need to get out of the Great Hall. And that right now.

You know your friends want to support you, comfort you, but sometimes you just need to be alone.

Your voice sounds choked, throat constricted, as you climb over the bench, the howler still in pieces on the table.

"I am sorry, I need to be alone now." You run, weaving your way through the pupils crowded in the Great Hall and the corridors outside. Tears start to burn behind your eyes, clouding your vision and your throat starts to burn.

You run, run until your feet ache, slumping down on the ground, sliding down the ball. And then the damn breaks. Hot, burning tears rolling down your cheeks, as one ragged sob after the other leaves you.

It hurts so much, growing up in a family like this. It is so painful. Your mother's words, laced with venom, still reverberate through your mind, loud and awful, filling every fibre of your being. A cool shiver makes its way down your spine, making you shiver.

You draw in a deep inhale, your breathing shaky, lower lip quivering. Closing your eyes, you let your head rest against the wall, replaying every single word she said to you.

The eerie silence of the corridor and your calm sobs are suddenly interrupted by the faint echo of footsteps nearing. You have no time to make guesses who it could be, finding you sitting behind a corner, back pressed against the wall to almost become invisible.

"Are you…alright?"

It is strange seeing him like this. He is always so confident, so cocky, arrogant, silver-tongued. And not so…reserved, and at a loss for words. Your desperate state has probably shocked him, you think, trying to hold his gaze, but the tears are coming back again.

"I am…fine," you croak, the lie in your voice louder than the Howler you received earlier.

Theo breathes out a cold chuckle. "That was the worst lie I've ever heard, Y/N."

His voice is flat, his expression stoic. He just looks at you, his normally confident demeanour nowhere in sight. "And I thought you Hufflepuffs are those goody-two-shoes who never lie."

You watch how the corner of his mouth tips upwards, but only shortly. He quickly presses his lips in a thin line, something he has always done when thinking deeply. A crease appears on his forehead, eyes solely focused on you.

You have known Theo basically since the day you were born. He is two months older than you, both of you coming from noble pureblood families, your father's had once been good friends, are still probably, but you don't really know. When you were placed in Hufflepuff…things changed.

Also the friendship with Theo changed. He got distanced, you did too. Being friends with him was somehow no longer possible, and still isn't. You are not rude towards each other, he also always stayed out when the Slytherins mocked you and your housemates, but he has also never sought you out to spend time with you…and neither did you.

You have been growing apart and this is alright — some friendships are not forever. Or at least that is what you always tell yourself.

"I…I just had to get out."

He nods, slowly, and in understanding. "I always come here when I want to be alone."

"Yes, that is why I am here, I want to be alone." You hope he gets the memo…that you want to be alone. Fully alone.

Not deigning him another look, you bury your face in your hands again, knees pulled up to your chest. It is not in your nature to be rude to anyone, but…

"I know I should probably leave…" But he moves closer.

"I heard what the howler said and I don’t really want to—"

"Everyone heard what the Howler said." A humourless chuckle escapes you and you lift your head. Theo is already looking at you, his eyes, meeting your red and puffy ones. Pain flashes in his eyes, bright and stark and you feel yourself shiver.

He nods slowly, almost like he wants to tell you it is not the truth, hoping it will ease the pain and discomfort a little, but he says nothing. And that for a long moment. Until—

He closes the distance between the two of you, claiming the spot on the ground beside you.

"I am sorry," he says, stretching out his long legs and leaning his head against the stone wall behind him. "I am so sorry for what she said and that everyone had to hear."

"It is not your fault, you don't have to apologise." You furrow your brows as you turn to look at him.

His eyes are filled with concern. You can still feel the embarrassment, the way the entire hall had turned to watch as the red envelope exploded in a blaze of your mother's fury and rage. Everyone became witness to your misery…

You swallow hard, trying to push the memory aside, but it lingers like an illness that just won't get better.

"Y/N," Theo says, his voice softer than what you are used to. "I can't believe she sent you this letter…"

"Howler," you correct him, wearing a forced smile.

The corner of his mouth curls up, and he casually runs a hand through his hair. "Indeed, a Howler, you smartass."

You chuckle, and playfully nudge him with your elbow. But then you shake your head, take a deep breath and shrug."You know how she is. Always expecting more, always disappointed in me."

Theo reaches out, his hand brushing gently against yours. He does not take your hand into his, just rests it next to yours on the ground, your pinkies touching. "You don't have to listen to her, Y/N. You're so much more than what she thinks of you."

You draw in a shaky breath, thankful about his presence.

Funny, you think. You would not have thought that exactly his presence would bring you so much comfort now. You had wanted to be alone just moments before, but talking to him feels somehow good. "Thank you," you say.

He smiles. "Of course." But he does not look away, keeps holding your gaze, his hand shifting the tiniest bit, his pinkie finger now placed on top of yours.

The dimly lit sconces cast eerie flickers of light upon the stone walls, and also on you two. His lashes look longer in this light, casting shadows across his cheeks, his eyes looking so much deeper. And soon you realise you are staring at him.

It feels like he leans closer, but you could also be mistaken.. And yet, his presence wraps around you, like a gentle embrace or a warm winter coat. And, with his voice barely above a whisper, Theo says. "You deserve so much better than this."

Tears glisten in your eyes once more. His gaze is intense, filled with an emotion you have not really seen on him before. "Thank you for being here for me."

"I am your friend, of course I am."

Your expression must have given you away.

He huffs, and lowers his chin to his chest. "Well, at least I hope we are still friends…"

For a long moment silence stretches out between you because first of all, you did not expect that statement and secondly, you don't know how to answer.

Are you really friends? Still?

You’ve doubted it in the past years, you’ve never talked to each other, unless you had to do so in class. You’ve never spent time together. This is not what you would call a friendship.

"I don't know, are we?" you answer honestly, and a small smile appears on his face. "I can't blame you for not considering me your friend anymore…"

It is still strange seeing him like this. He has never been like this…so vulnerable somehow.

"I know I should have been here for you so much more in these past years."

This is not at all what you expected, and it confuses you greatly. Is he blaming himself for not being here? You also did not reach out to him, you did not seek him out, and you are in different houses.

"There is no blame on you!" Your voice is stronger, firmer, wanting him to see that it is absolute bullshit that he is talking. "Why would you say something like this?"

He shrugs. "I am…" He does not continue, only draws in a deep inhale, and leans his head against the wall. His eyes close for a moment.

There has always been a connection between you, a connection that is still somehow there, even though you might no longer be friends. The kind of friends you once used to be.

You also lean back against the wall, your own eyes closing, his finger still touching yours. It is such a tiny gesture, but you feel it everywhere. Feel him so strongly.

Theo breaks the silence, his voice quieter when he says. "Y/N, I want you to know...I've always cared about you more than just a friend."

Your heart skips a beat, and you open your eyes, turn your head and look up at him, your eyes meeting his gaze. "Theo..."

"I know it's complicated," he continues, his hand now flipping yours over and taking it into his. "I can't pretend anymore. And seriously, if Draco or Blaise would see me like that right now…stumbling over my own words, they would call me the biggest fool on this planet, but I need you to know…"

He groans almost like in frustration, and squeezes your hand.

"In Salazar's name, why is this so fucking hard?" A chuckle escapes him, but you only look at him, not sure if you are ready for his confession.

"I'm in love with you, Y/N. And I have been for the longest time."

Your breath catches in your throat, and a mixture of emotions swirls within you, a whirlwind starting for a whole new reason now. "Theo, I..." You hesitate, not sure what to say.

He smiles and shakes his head. "You don't have to say anything right now. I just needed you to know. And if you ever need someone to talk to, to be there for you, I'll always be here, I want you to know this."

This is a side of him, you think, only you know. And only you know since this very moment. He has never been like this before, he is not like that to others and it makes your chest warm from the inside.

Tears well up in your eyes again, but this time they're not tears of sadness — they’re tears of happiness and comfort. Without thinking you throw your arms around Theo and hug him tightly, feeling the warmth of his embrace. "Thank you, Theo. I... I really care about you too. I want you to know this."

He holds you close, his hand gently rubbing your back. "What happened today, and what is maybe about to come…we'll get through this together. You are not alone in this. I know you have your Hufflepuff friends, but you also have me."

He holds you tightly, and for as long as it takes the pain of the former happenings to ease. The weight of the howler and your mother's hurtful words begins to fade, replaced by the knowledge that you have someone who cares deeply for you by your side. His words and his confession were like balm to your soul, and they make you smile, even when you thought you wouldn't be smiling much this day.

"I am really glad to have you back in my life."

He smiles, a genuine and adorable smile that makes your heart flutter. "I have always been in your life. Maybe we weren't that close, but our bond has always been there."

You nod, and draw in a deep inhale. "You are right."

When more pupils file into the corridors, you know lessons are probably soon about to start. You give his hand a final squeeze and slowly get up. "I'll see you later, Theo."

He nods, his eyes never leaving yours. "Take care, Y/N. I'll see you for lunch?"

You nod, a smile on your lips and his eyes momentarily dip to them.

With one last smile, you turn and head toward the Hufflepuff common room, your heart lighter. You know you can talk to him about the issues in your family, and he will listen, because he understands. Understands the pure blood nobility and problems. And maybe, just maybe, there is also a chance for something more between the two of you in the future. He, after all, already confessed his love for you.

#theodore nott #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x reader #slytherin boys #slytherin #slytherin x hufflepuff #harry potter #theo nott #theo nott x reader

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akutasoda · 5 months

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ehe

can I request a s/o who acts like a cat even while fighting

cat fight

synopsis - when they're s/o acts like a cat, even when fighting

includes - baizhu, wanderer, sethos, wriothesley

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight crack, wc - 855

a/n: i did sort if interpret this as more black cat and orange cat vibes..

taglist - @frankiesteinn, @little-miss-chaoss

baizhu ★↷

↪he's like a more friendly balck cat, almost like a domestic black cat who has been around a while. while sometimes he seems unbothered and disinterested, he has a kind hearrt deep down and isn't selfish - he is a doctor afterall. so no matter what, he always seems like the voice of reason.

↪if he was with someone who gave more of a black cat vibe, he'd almost act as a sort of reassurance - especially when it came to other people who could be quite embarrassed by how disinterested you seemed. he didn't exactly love your more selfish side but he'd find ways to deal with your moods.

↪if he was with someone who gave of more orange cat vibes, he'd act more as the voice of reason. he found it very admirable with how outgoing and friendly you were but sometimes he'd have to step in when you became a bit too chaotic. he did quite love seeing what you had gotten up to in terms of your more unhinged activity.

↪baizhu would normally discourage you from putting yourself in harms way as he would hate to see you get injured. however he found it quite hard to stop you when he observed you acting very 'cat-like' in battle - it was quite amusing.

↪ he'd never make an outright comment but sometimes you wpuld catch him staring if you were fighting and you never knew if he was trying to assess your condition or say something else...

wanderer ★↷

↪he gives off black cat energy for definite, or atleast for those that he's less acquainted with or downright hates. so for him to be with someone who could also be compared to that of a cat would be like a perfectly crafted match.

↪if you were also more of a black cat kind of person it would be almost too perfect. you both always seemed unbothered and disinterested which sometimes made others feel like you two were constantly judging them. although maybe two people that could be rather selfish would encounter a few issues.

↪or maybe you acted more akin to a orange cat, then you two would seem like completely opposites. he would seem cold, judgemental and calculated but you were like a ball of sunshine - a bit more chaotic and impulsively as well. you two would simply balance each other out perfectly.

↪although, wanderer did find it rather amusing with how your cat like behaviour would translate into your style of fighting. he'd always tease you about it afterwards, always comparing you to a cat who'd chase mice. while he probably didn't like seeing you put by yourself in danger, as long as he was nearby he'd happily watch you fight almost like a cat would.

sethos ★↷

↪he can be quite the outgoing and friendly person, sort of akin to an orange cat but he also has that more serious and selfish side. it really depends on who you are to him and the situation. however mainly for his lover, he's definitely more like an orange cat.

↪so if you acted more like a black cat, you two become quite the opposites that work. his friendliness counters your rather selfish nature that always gives of an unbothered attitude and he seems like the sun itself next to you. however when you're both seeming very cold, you can be quite the intimidating couple.

↪but if you match his orange cat energy perfectly then you both can be perceived as rather friendly people. unfortunately (or fortunately) that means you both like to indulge each other in whatever unhinged idea the other has thought up.

↪although one obvious difference can be observed on the battlefield as sethos becomes much more concentrated and almost aggressive while you remain rather 'cat-like'. he finds it rather adorable when you demonstrate the mannerisms of a cat in a fight.

wriothesley ★↷

↪he isn't exactly the biggest act like person, he's definitely more akin to that of a wolf or perhaps some kind of hunting dog. so him having a lover who acts alot more 'cat-like' always makes it seem like you two are complete opposites.

↪although perhaps you would be more similar than perceived if you were more like a black cat. this way you both had much more of an intimidating aura. wasn't the biggest fan of your more selfish side but he would find that it wouldn't be directed towards your relationship and he became more at peace with it.

↪however, if you behaved more like an orange cat you two would be a perfect mix of seriousness and chaos. wriothesley would find himself being entertained by your common activities that completey confused his brain as to why you would do so but that's what made his day.

↪again, he hated seeing you fight but sometimes he knew that the situation would be unavoidable and so he would instead watch out for you and your 'cat-like' fighting.

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throneofsapphics · 9 months

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old faces, part six

Rowaelin x f!Reader

Summary: you and Rowan meet again after seven years, and deal with the fall-out of a secret.

Warnings: mentions of death, drinking

Word Count: ~5k

A/N: here we go! I’m curious, would y’all prefer short chapters and more frequent updates? or keeping them around the same lengths?

series masterlist

Three weeks passed since the two of you left for Caraverre for the last time, and today they received the letter telling them you’d arrive a week from now. The month was spent eagerly awaiting your arrival.

You’d written a post note;

Ceri found a kitten, and she’s coming with us. I asked if she was certain about keeping her, and was hissed at twice.

“You’ll need to make a new friend,” she told Fleetfoot, currently dozing at her feet. He was about ten years old now, and not quite slowing down, but not as energetic as he was several years ago. Lazily lifting his head, he opened one eye, before laying back down, tucking his head between his paws. He didn’t have the best track record with cats, but hopefully the new kitten would be an exception. Or at least confident enough to stand up for herself.

“Another friend?” Rowan asked, door closing behind him. She handed him the letter.

“A cat,” he looked at Fleetfoot, then at her.

Aelin shrugged, “she’ll keep the mice away.”

“When she’s here,” he pointed out.

“Wherever she is.”

He couldn’t argue with that. Preemptively, they’d looked into a few different places the two of you could live - even if they hated every second of it. If they could at least sniff out the safest areas, they’d feel a bit better. Then, just make some subtle nudges. Would you let them participate in house hunting?

“How long do we have to stay at the castle?”

“Until we find a home.”

“When will that be?”

“After we find one.”

A groan of frustration, “How long does that take?”

“It could be days or weeks.”

She didn’t look pleased with the answer, but that was the truth. As far as homes went, you’d be relatively picky. Maybe a tad more than relatively. There was a running list in your mind.

High exposure to magic in the past.

Enough space for Ceri to have her chickens, not enough space for a Wyvern.

Walking distance from the city.

The criteria was high, but you hoped something would come around quickly. You were eager to create a home base in Orynth, to establish a safe place, a place that belonged to both of you. A castle could be a home, you supposed, but not for you. You’d never feel like you belonged there.

You meant what you said to Fenrys. You were never born to live in a castle, and as of now, you had no desire to. That’s something you couldn’t picture changing over the years.

Another thing you didn’t expect was Ceri being this adamant against living in the castle.

Scanning the cramped interior of the carriage, you saw Ceri still wrapped up in another dragon book - but her eyes were starting to droop. You let a small smile curve on your face, gazing out the frost-covered window. A few more hours, and you’d be passing the gates of Orynth.

Breathe, you reminded yourself, and watched as your breath condensed in front of you. Gods it was cold, both of you bundled up as much as you could. Still, better than being outside.

A soft snore, and Ceri was sleeping, body laid out across the bench, mitten covered hands still wrapped around the book, now clutched to her chest. It was a miracle she could read with those on. Quietly standing, you lifted the bench beneath you, dragging out a warm quilt, and tucking it around her shoulders. It’s likely she’d sleep all the way to the gates, if not to the castle door.

Even with the relative safety, you never slept on your trips if you could help it, catching just a few hours as needed. A small shield covered the cabin the entire journey, and after the driver said they were comfortable with the magic, you let it cover them as well. At least it managed to keep out some of the cold.

Soon enough, you passed through the city gates, then - the Castle loomed ahead of you. The carriage halted in front of the gates, a guard peered in through the window shooting a smile your way and waving you inside without another question.

You’d met him the last time you were here, and wished you’d at least remembered his name. You made a note to ask later. You were reluctant to wake Ceri, with her looking so peaceful, but you did, gently squeezing her shoulder.

“We’re here.”

She perked up, throwing the blanket off her, face pressed against the window. One hand swiped away the condensation, wiping again as her breath fogged the window. She wasn’t this excited earlier, pestering you about how long you’d have to be here. It was easy to figure out why, peeking over her to get your own look out the window. Three of her friends were waiting there, a good distance away from Rowan and Aelin, but you could spot them.

Your heart warmed.

“Make sure you at least say hello to your father,” you reminded her. She sent you an offended look, and you only raised your brows.

Rowan watched as Ceri jumped out of the carriage, her gaze going to his right. He knew exactly who was waiting for her over there. But, you shot her another look, and instead she sprinted right to you and Aelin, barreling into him.

He’d gotten used to that, to her throwing her entire body weight into him. The first time it caught him off guard. She was stronger than any ten year old had a right to be. He shouldn’t have been surprised, you used to do that when they met up, flinging yourself into his arms.

At a slower pace, you followed behind her.

Ceri hugged Aelin, and bounced on her feet, eyes darting behind them. Where he knew three other children were waiting, a respectful distance away.

“Go say hello to your friends,” he told her and she shot off without another word.

Aelin wrapped you into a warm hug, squeezing until you let out an oof, complaining you couldn’t breathe.

You stiffened as Rowan wrapped his own arm around your shoulders, squeezing you into his side. Had he never done that? It felt .. natural, he almost released you - momentary panic setting in that he might’ve made you feel uncomfortable, but you wrapped your arm around his waist, giving a quick squeeze back before stepping away. Nothing seemed tense or on edge, in fact you still looked perfectly relaxed. Thank the Gods.

Aelin linked her arm through yours, talking about the book you’d mentioned in your most recent letter. As soon as you scribbled in a line about it, that Aelin might like it, she set out to find it. Three bookstores in Orynth later, Aelin had located it and devoured it in two days.

Gods, he’d even found her reading it in the bath.

“I should send this to Dorian,” she announced. After closing the book, in a daze for ten minutes before she finally spoke. Rowan learned the hard way not to interrupt that phase.

“A trashy romance novel?”

“It is not,” Aelin hissed.

“So I didn’t find you in the bath …” Wind suffocated the fiery dagger thrown his way.

“Scandalizing the King of Adarlan is always amusing.”

“Does he even read them?”

Aelin shrugged.

Aelin and Rowan weren’t quite as subtle as they thought they were. They’d obviously done some research and snooping on houses before the two of you arrived, and you found it endearing and helpful.

“What do you think about this area?” Aelin traced her finger over a spot on the map.

“I haven’t exactly seen it,” you shot her a smile. “Tell me about it.”

A moment of shock, but she did tell you everything she knew. Neighbors close enough you could vaguely see them, but not hear them. That’s a plus in your book. Most of the surrounding neighbors already planted a few gardens. A few houses were up for sale, the owners eager to get rid of them. Apparently there’d been a big push to move into the city, into the hustle of people. It’s still close enough to the city, within walking distance of a few schools.

You noticed that although it’s on the outskirts of Orynth, it’s located closer to the castle. It makes sense, considering Ceri will still be spending plenty of time there.

“We should go take a look around.”

Aelin’s eyes lit up. You liked that.

“Tomorrow?” She offered.

“Tomorrow.”

“Are we inviting Rowan?”

That, you didn’t know how to answer. “I’ll leave it up to your discretion.”

Turquoise eyes fixed on you, and it took everything not to break her stare. “A girls trip sounds nice.” You tried not to let out a huge sigh of relief. “Besides, he’ll likely terrify everyone we come across.”

You offered a half-smile, your sentiments were the same. That might be pushing a line. Lines you were very careful to balance. Gods, you’d practically made neutrality an art form over the years.

You bundled up, pushing a pair of mittens into a protesting Ceri’s hands.

“Do you want frostbite?” You kept the exasperation out of your voice. She snatched them from you, shoving them onto her hands, as you wound a scarf around her neck. It wasn’t actively snowing, but Terrasen winters were brutal. A grinning Aelin waited for you just past the castle doors. The two of you each linked one of Ceri’s arms. A good strategy to keep her from sprinting off.

She led you through the city, you’d hit the sweet spot in the morning - less people on the streets, less to gawk and stare, and she knew every back road and alley. It might take you a while to get used to the city, considering none of the roads made any sense. Scratch that, it would. They all lead in nonsensical directions, sometimes looping back on each other.

“I’ll need a map for a few weeks,” you commented.

“I’ll get one for you.” Aelin grinned, leading you through the city gate, and to the right, tracing back along the wall. You figured it had been a twenty minute walk so far, and sure enough five minutes later the small houses began to grow, and Ceri began bouncing.

A few for sale signs, and you opened your senses - looking for spots of residual magic. Where some magic wielders might have lived for a while. The area was brimming. Beautiful and ancient.

This was as good of a time as any for a lesson.

“Ceri,” you caught her attention. The two of you had let her go, making her promise to stay within ten paces. She stopped and turned, bright green eyes staring at you, before bounding back towards you. “See what you can feel.”

Her eyes squeezed shut. “Eyes open.”

She scowled, but listened. It was a crutch, and although you let it help at first, you knew she didn’t need it anymore. Her eyes scanned the perimeter, fingers wiggling beneath the mittens.

“A lot of magic. Old.”

“What else?” A long pause, but you waited. Aelin was silent beside you, watching curiously. You kept your focus on Ceri.

“It’s mostly from humans.” She was looking back at the various fields, now overgrown with grasses. Farmers used to live here, in masses.

“Good,” you grinned at her. She looked nearly identical to Rowan, but that was your mother’s grin on her face. Ceri led the way this time, spotting the houses with “for sale” signs.

You could tell Aelin was brimming with questions, so you started. “It’s the first thing I learned as well.”

“Sensing magic?”

You hummed.

“Is there a big difference between Human and Fae magic?”

“It’s subtle,” you admitted. “But it’s a good thing to know.” To know who you’re facing.

“How does your magic work?” She probed.

“I have the basic shielding, myself and others,” that was the easy part to explain. “I use magic to put … intention into different materials,” you huffed a laugh. It always sounds ridiculous when you put it like that. In reality, it’s a bit more complex than that, but that’s the easiest way to describe it.

“It lets you sense other magic.”

“Most of us can,” you countered.

“But more than others.”

“I haven’t had a chance to compare,” it’s true, plus you had no desire to. Few knew the extent of your magic, and most of them were dead. You preferred it that way.

“Intention,” she murmured - thinking aloud. “Like that dagger?”

“I didn’t create it,” you said, slipping into neutrality, hand slowly drifting over your cheek. You avoided looking at her.

“Is there something else different about it?”

Yes, but nothing that has to be said. Still, this was an opportunity for you to show you trust her. Trust, of course, has to be earned, but giving a small show of it - even just providing a bit of extra information like this, could make a difference in the future. A small thread tugged at you, encouraging you to share. The Goddess who’d always guided you. Listening was the only option.

“That particular one was created by an ancestor of mine. I don’t know who. Those daggers are more common than you’d think, most don’t know what they are. Usually intended for … ritual magic, tattooing, scarring,” you still couldn’t meet her gaze. “They used to be common practice. I don’t know how that male got that specific one, and it had worried you more than you cared to admit. But he was dead, they were destroyed. “It’s an object a collector probably would’ve loved.”

“Are there a lot of those in circulation?”

“Two less now,” you said without thinking, wincing before clearing your throat. “Made by my family? Very few.” Five were made actually, and you knew where one was, but the other two were still lost. The next part you hesitated, but one extra tidbit couldn’t hurt. “It’s not exactly illegal to create them on the Southern Continent, but highly frowned upon.”

“Is that why you destroyed them?”

“No,” you couldn’t lie to her. Silence radiated between the two of you, her surprise palpable. Aelin was waiting, waiting to see if you’d keep speaking. That wall started to surge, to form itself around your mind, to block, block, block, but this time you pushed back against it, a firm hand lowering it. Not to the ground, but so you could see past it. Finally, you looked at her. No judgment, just curiosity.

“You don’t have to share, if you don’t want to.”

Did you want to? Not particularly, but that stupid little thread tugged again. Mentally, you muttered a sorry at calling it stupid.

“That one was special. It scars as intended, yes, but any blood it encounters … if the victim has magic, some of it will transfer inside of the blade. Just a trace, nothing someone would miss, but enough to have other uses.”

You’d had too much time to think about it, to think on what it could mean. If someone had a dagger with your magic, even a hint of it … a weapon with the ability to throw magic into other objects? It doesn’t limit itself either, it would’ve kept on building the more victims it crossed. If the wielder knew how to use it correctly, they could potentially use it to throw someone elses magic into another person. One of your family’s daggers, objects missing for too long, thrown into circulation just as a large upheaval occurred. Just as everything changed again. It’s not something that could be completely ignored, even from Terrasen. But, some things were your burden to carry. Consequences passed through time and generations.

“Good you destroyed them,” Aelin said quietly. A glance at her, and you knew her mind went the same way yours did.

“They were originally used for healing,” you felt the need to defend your family’s legacy. You didn’t want to give the impression that they’d created an object with the intention for harm.

“Sounds like it could’ve been a great tool.”

“It was, for some time.”

Gods, you were sharing too much now. Ceri saved the day, bounding back towards you and pointing to the house.

“It’s perfect.”

Not huge, but not small. From the outside, everything looked fine. Glancing at the price, you knew there had to be a catch. A bit of fixing up, you could handle. But if the roof was about to fall down? That would be a no.

You looked underneath the price, squinting your eyes. To a good home.

An older male ambled out, spying the three of you eyeing it.

As he led you through the house, you got the sense you were being interviewed, and answered all of his questions honestly, explaining what you were looking for in a home.

“What do you want it to become?”

Aelin looked at you from the corner of her eyes, but the male’s keen gaze, piercing brown eyes, were fixed on you.

“A home for my daughter and I,” Ceri clutched your hand tighter, glancing between you and the other male. “Somewhere her friends can visit,” you squeezed her hands, “and relax.”

“Have a lot of friends, do you?”

Ceri nodded, and started rambling about the things they’d done yesterday. He listened patiently, commenting in all of the right places, and you could tell Ceri was taken with him. He did have a grandfatherly aspect to him.

“Well,” he cleared his throat. “There’s some mice sometimes, you’ll need a cat.”

“We have one,” Ceri piped.

“That’s perfect then,” he patted her shoulder. “It’s yours if you want it,” he looked up to you. Now, three pairs of eyes were on you.

“We’d be honored.”

The words felt … right. You’d learned the home had been in his family for generations, but he was the last of them. He didn’t need to tell you what happened to his family, but he said he’d been the last occupant of the home, and would be moving into the city with a friend.

“Are they a special friend?”

“Ceri,” you hissed.

“It’s alright,” he chuckled, looking at you with a hint of amusement. You replied with an apologetic grimace. “All friends are special.”

You squeezed your daughter's hand, telling her now is not the time. Thankfully, she kept her mouth shut. She’s at the age where a filter is a foreign concept to her, and any question seems appropriate.

Turn around would take about ten days. He’d left you all of the furniture, all of the kitchen ware, nearly everything, even a collection of what looked to be ancient books. It almost seemed too good to be true … but, this time, an instinct told you to accept something good happened. That it happened without a greater cost. That you were worthy of good things.

Aelin’s mind had wandered during the rest of your ‘girls trip.’ She half paid attention to the tour and conversations, enough so she knew what was going on if asked a question. But, her mind drifted to what you told her. She’d watched as you froze up, as you hesitated, but then told her anyway. As you showed trust in her. Trust with things you probably hadn’t told another person. There was still more to the story, but when she saw how uncomfortable you grew, common sense told her pushing wasn’t worth any potential knowledge she might acquire.

She was correct that someone from your bloodline created it. First the admission of the type of dagger, then how the ones your family created were different. Something a collector would’ve loved.

They were used for healing at some point, then stolen. At least that was what she picked up on. Her mind trailed to why you would’ve destroyed them, destroyed a family heirloom. Blood. Magic. Your magic - imbuing.

Victim’s magic store itself. Enough to have other uses.

Very few. Two less. There’s still more. And you don’t know where they are, or she has a feeling you would’ve tracked them down by now. Aelin had a decent read on you at this point, and she’s well aware you wouldn’t let something like that exist in the world.

Could those daggers have a history? Could she find mentions of them somewhere? You didn’t say relative, you said ancestor.

She needed to talk to Rowan.

Rowan could tell Aelin was nearly bursting at the seams with something. She waited until it was the two of them, you and Ceri already off to bed, before sharing.

He sat on the new wealth of information Aelin had learned. Moreover, he was shocked you’d shared all of that. It was more than you would’ve told him … would’ve told him in the past. There’s other reasons why you wouldn’t have shared that with him before. Still, if he’d asked the question would you have answered? A useless question, considering he wouldn’t ask you. He recognized you wouldn’t have told Aelin this if you didn’t expect he’d hear of it as well.

It wasn’t meant to be hidden from him, just to be heard second hand. It felt like a consolation prize.

“Is she worried about it?” He finally said, his pause giving the impression he was thinking the information over.

“Not excessively,” she shifted, stretching her legs out over his lap. Absentmindedly, thumb ran circles into her calf, loosening the tense muscles. A small purr left her chest. She was silent, contemplative, for a few moments. “There’s more to it. I know there is.”

“Aelin,” he paused his movements, catching her eyes, hoping to tell her not to dig into it. Based on the look in her eyes, that wouldn’t be a deterrent. “At least don’t push her. Let her come to you. It’s sensitive family history you’re digging into.”

At least that’s the impression he got. Aelin described how you seemed reluctant, emphasizing how she didn’t pry much. Speaking about your family had always been difficult for you, one of the topics you were most evasive about, and he doubted that changed too much over the years.

“I know.”

For the first few days, you struggled to figure out how to fill your time.

Last time you’d been here, everyone was snowed in for the majority of the time, but now there weren’t any restrictions or requirements to stay in the castle. Last time, your stay in Orynth felt temporary, even with the knowledge you’d be returning. It was also the first storm of the year, and an early one. Now you’d just hit december. Meaning Yulemas was quickly approaching. Peak season for you, to sell any kind of little crafts, but you didn’t have a space to work yet and working out of the castle didn’t feel right to you.

In the mornings and early afternoons, Ceri had lessons with the rest of her friends and a few teachers from the castle, so you took it on yourself to walk through the city, trying to memorize each street and back alley. That was a new kind of torture for you. Going alone made your explorations much longer, but it was important you learned how to find your way through without help, to not rely on anyone - besides the little map now becoming worn down and creased with how frequent you referenced it.

Making your way back to the main square, the jingling of bells and a few festive tunes reached you first.

A market.

Evergreen wreaths lined the streets, accented by bows, pinecones, and all sorts of little decorations. Stalls and stalls of vendors selling their wares, all of them braving the cold. A few had flasks on their hips, ones they took a few sips from time to time. You smiled to yourself, that’s certainly a way to help keep the chill out.

As it happens, you came across a woman selling little carvings, a list of different types propped up on her table. ‘Enchanted,’ had a line crossed through it. She wasn’t particularly busy, so you decided to be nosy.

“Enchanted ones already sold?”

She smiled ruefully, “aye, the normal provider’s temporarily out of business, don’t know when they’ll be back.” You realized she might be referencing you. “A female from Antica, now based in Terrasen, not sure where.”

“Are there others?”

Her mouth pressed into a tight line. “Not particularly good ones.”

“Out of those too?” Gods, you really were being nosy, but she didn’t seem to mind.

“If they don’t feel right or genuine, I try not to sell them. I like the ones that already have a bit of magic in ‘em.” She narrowed her eyes at another stall across the way. You nodded, and she seemed in the mood to share today. “The seller’s out of Antica, don’t know how she got here, but it’s lowered the price.” She was speaking of you.

“The price?”

“I used to import.”

“Oh.”

Maybe you should’ve kept track of where some of your work ended up.

“I try to keep the prices fair,” she sighed and leaned back in her seat, balancing it on two legs. “For the ones who look like they need it.” That, you could appreciate. “Makes me sell out quicker.”

You hummed, maybe you could make a few before the seasons up. “I heard a rumor,” you started hesitantly, and her head tilted, eyes curious. “That she’ll be back in business, have something ready about a week before Yulemas.”

Oh, you had her attention now. “Do you know her?”

A small nod. “You don’t?”

A shake of her head, but you’d caught her attention. “Always dealt with someone in the middle. A bit annoying,” you tried not to wince, “but safer for her that way, I can understand.”

“I can put you in touch.” It can’t be that hard to pretend you’re actually the one in the middle.

“Really?” She looked skeptical, and for good reason.

Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out a small trinket. A small amulet, one of the last things made before you left Caraverre, and a design you hadn’t used before, but if she’s sold some of your things, she should recognize it as genuine. Carefully, you handed it to her, watching as she examined, eyes squinting to look at the tiny carvings.

“She won’t have much stock, and not til week or so before the holiday, but I can put you in touch and see what she has.”

“Even a few would make a difference,” she reached out and handed it back to you, gingerly. Almost like she was holding a treasure.

“Keep that one for yourself. I’ll come back and let you know.”

“That would be much appreciated.”

Based on your smile, and the way she undid the clasp, tucking the small necklace inside her coat, you knew she would. Keep it and not sell it. You’d need to wait a few more days before returning, maybe even up to a week. Just to give the impression you actually were someone in the middle.

Feeling in high spirits, a good deed done for the day, you headed back to the castle, hoping there would only be a few wrong turns this time.

Aelin reached an arm around pulling you into her side, a hug of sorts, but her arm lingered. Naturally, your head dropping to her shoulder. She squeezed further, and didn’t move. Aelin tugged you closer. Rowan didn’t look uncomfortable when you stole a look at him. In fact something like a smile ghosted across his face. You realized how much you’d missed touch and affection. Platonic touch and affection, just among friends. Reya had always been a big hugger, the two of you cuddling up next to each other on the couch.

Something you’d never even thought might be necessary. But now that it was here … you found yourself clinging to it like a lifeline. Touch starved enough that even the smallest affection feels like a blessing, like a gift from the gods.

Aelin sighed, and you relaxed your body further, letting the wine send you loosen you, giving yourself permission to feel this. To bask in this momentary peace.

“You’re much better at this than Rowan.” An indignant huff from the offended male. “Take notes,” Aelin teased him, drawing a laugh from you and a half-hearted glare from the other male.

“And you’ve had a lot of wine,” you countered Aelin, but didn’t move. She’d initiated it … and if she felt uncomfortable, you’d let her move away. Maybe you should, maybe this is crossing some invisible line the wine haze is keeping you from recognizing, but it felt so right.

“Am I a better cuddler than Fenrys?”

This time, you did laugh. Aelin is definitely competitive. “I wouldn’t know.”

She seemed pleased, and matter of fact, so did Rowan. You’re imagining it, for certain. In the morning you’d swear he never looked like that. Swear it was a figment of your imagination.

As much as Fenrys made jokes about it, this hadn’t happened with him. Right now, you didn’t want it to, maybe you wanted to claim her as your official cuddle-friend. It’s the wine. Aelin wasn’t yours to claim, not in any way. Besides, you don’t believe in belonging to others. You belong to yourself, and that’s it. That’s the way it’s always been, and how it will always be.

A part of you still lingered, still wondered what it would be like to have a mate. To forge a bond so deep, such a permanent and everlasting connection, one that could cross worlds and eternity, to love and be loved so deeply that separation was unbearable - that separation would tear your soul into tiny bits.

Not the love of a mother and daughter, the love of two people meant to bind their souls together. Meant to claim each other equally.

Could a bond like that be forged, or was it some kind of gift? Given just to those deemed worthy of it?

It’s the wine.

The odds are you’ll never know, and there’s no use in wasting time imagining it.

taglist: @holb32 @moonlightttfae @cassianswh0reeee @reidishh @fussel9913 @abbyrose13 @brandywineeeee @acourtofbatboydreams (sorry it didn't let me tag everyone! you can comment on this or any others if you want to be added!

#rowaelin x reader #poly!rowaelin x reader #throne of glass fic #rowan whitethorn x reader #aelin galathynius x reader #rowaelin x y/n #poly!rowaelin x y/n #throne of glass x reader #rowan whitethorn x y/n #aelin galathynius x y/n

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 1 year

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Hello, can I request a Female Sanji Reader with Yandere Thor, Poseidon, Hades, Qin Shi Huang, Jack, Hercules, Ares, Hermes, Buddha, Zerofuku, Beelzebub, Tesla, Hajun and Loki who’s a chef, and to everyone’s surprise, is actually a Human Fighter (No one believes this beautiful and flirty woman is a fighter… until they discover her Bounty as a pirate from her world as ‘Black Leg Y/N’)

Imagine everyone’s surprise when Reader refuses to use a Volundr, but instead uses her legs, and everyone loses their absolute MIND over reader ‘flying’ (Sky Walk), using Observation and Armament Haki, which can actually harm the gods, her Raid Suit and Diable Jambe, and Reader loudly proclaiming that she’ll never use her hands to fight as they’re only meant for cooking

Reader was going easy on her Opponent, but he just has to open his mouth and insult Brunhilde and the Valkyries Sisters, calling them ‘Harlots’, which sets Reader off and goes batshit calling God Opponent a lot of colorful names, though he did get the upper hand by trapping Reader’s legs and began to crush her, and everyone thought Reader was dead… until she revealed herself with her body bent awkwardly (Cue to both Humans and Gods screaming) as she bends her body back to place, and while she was distracted, her opponent was aiming for her neck, only for his weapon to shatter upon impact, which shocked everyone, as Reader yelled in anger “That hurt you Bastard!” (And wins her fight)

Reader wins her fight but everyone demands to know if Reader is a Demi-God or some sort of monster… only for a pink haired man named Reiji (Genderbent Reiju) comes in to explain that Reader, along with himself and their other brothers were experimented as children, and tells Reader’s tragic tale of being ‘The Failure of Germa’, but is the success of their late mother who willingly drank a special concoction to have at least one of her children normal, and was willing to sacrifice her health and life just for one of her children to live as a normal human (And Reader had to deal with her family’s abuse, until she ran away and found a new father in Zeff, who raised her to cook, fight and take care of herself)

Imagine their fury when they learn Reader was in an arranged marriage, and her Husband-to-be was planning to kill her (Yet Reader doesn’t even hate him, rather she’s still kind to him) and was even willing to save her family, that has been nothing but abusive and horrible to her (This reveals that Reader has a kind and caring heart, which is shown even more with her feeding mice and anyone who’s hungry)

They’re even more shocked that Reader is a Royal, yet is incredibly humble, kind and laid back, as she defends a chef from an angry deity who was throwing his plate of food at her face (Only for Reader to grab it and harshly scold said god for their stupidity, and apologizes to the chef for spilling the food on the floor and proceeds to eat it, and just compliments Chef for the delicious meal, which makes Chef swoon and cry) as Reader reveals she despises those who waste food and men who would harm women

Sorry if this is a lot, I love Sanji (He’s the gentleman of men)

-You were very popular around Valhalla, yes you were stunningly beautiful, and so warm and cheerful, flirting with every man hat was single, and being so warm, inviting and protective of woman, but the real secret to your popularity was your food!

-You had so many visitors to the restaurant you worked in, helping out the chef, because you enjoyed cooking so much and there were so many, humans and gods, who flocked from all over to eat your delicious cooking!

-When you walked out as a fighter for Ragnarok, jaws dropped all around as you gave a dainty twirl, waving your arms around, calling out happily to the crowd.

-Your opponent looked irritated that you were a woman, and he was quick to underestimate you, big mistake!

-You quickly had everyone’s attention, using Sky Walk to leap up high into the air, literally walking on air before you front flipped, spinning rapidly down to your opponent, “Diable Jambe!”

-Your leg seemed to illuminate with flames as you came down hard, sending your opponent’s skull into the ground below, breaking it under the force.

-When you backflipped away from him you heard many cheering for you while others were in awe of your skills.

-Zeus shouted down, “How are you so powerful?!” Heimdall then announced while your opponent was trying to stand up, “I can answer that! Before her untimely death, Y/N was a notorious pirate, Black Leg Y/N! She sailed the Seven Seas as part of one of the strongest crews ever and had one of the highest bounties in the world!!”

-The crowd was immediately in an uproar, many cheering and many yelling out in shock while your hands came to your hips, a grin on your lips.

-When your opponent was finally back on his feet, you quickly went on the attack, using a barrage of rapid kicks, easily taking care of business.

-He shouted at you as you blocked his blow with your leg, “Why aren’t you using your hands?!” you kicked him hard in the stomach, sending him flying back, “These hands are for cooking only, bastard!!”

-He managed to land a harsh blow on you, trapping you under a large piece of the arena ground that he ripped out, crushing you beneath it, a sharp scream leaving your lips.

-You managed to get free, barely dodging a fatal blow, your body was broken, bloody, and crooked, you heard people all over screaming before you tensed your body and you body started to contort, dislocated bones relocated, bones cracking.

-You inhaled deeply through your nose before you charged, your knee meeting his nose, “THAT HURT!!”

-Many were commenting if you were a demi-goddess, while others were concerned you were a demon, but a man with soft bubblegum pink hair spoke, “No, she’s a human, just a very strong one.”

-Attention turned to him, your older brother, Reiji, as he explained yours and his past, that you were both nobles, which stunned so many people, because you were so humble and kind, compared to other royals.

-An actual king whom you kicked in the face told the tale that he had been screaming at a young female chef and threw the plate at her, and you came to her defense, kicking him in the face before scolding him for not only wasting his food, but for attacking a woman. He quickly learned to respect women after that.

-Reiji continued, telling everyone around about your mother, who nearly killed herself to ensure that at least one of her children would not be a weapon, and that child was you, the only girl amongst 4 brothers.

-Many were outraged to hear of the cruelty you had faced, not only from your family, giving Reiji the only pass as he had been the one to help you escape, where you had found Zeff, who raised you.

-Jaws dropped as your valkyrie partner fused with you, forming a Raid Suit, and your opponent shouted, “You humans and those harlots are nothing but a bunch of cheats!!”

-The raid suit immediately fell away as you charged, your Armament Haki covering your legs as you kicked him straight back into the wall, “Respect women you bastard!!!”

-Reiji chuckled, leaning his chin on his hand, “I remember when she was like this at her wedding~” eyes turned quickly on him, as a camera had gotten onto him somehow and he was telling your tale of how your fiancé was ready to kill you on your wedding day, as well as your whole family, but you harbored no ill feelings towards him.

-Many were stunned by your kind hard, hearing that you saved your family, despite despising them all, except for Reiji, because you didn’t want them to die, but you had proved your strength to them before running back off with your crew.

-You won your fight, humanity and gods alike cheering for you, hearing what a strong woman you were, and how kind and warm hearted you were, despite your hardships as you grinned up at your big brother and he chuckled warmly down at you.

-Thor- He met you backstage as soon as you made it there and your eyes turned into hearts, “Thor~~~!!” he chuckled softly, catching you in a hug, pecking your forehead softly before he picked you up princess style, making your cheeks turn a bit red, “I knew you were going to win, Y/N.” you grinned up at him, “It was a good battle, but he made the mistake of insulting my friend!” he chuckled once more, taking you to the infirmary, relief filling him, as he was worried a few times, like when you got crushed. He was glad you were still here with him.

-Poseidon- You beamed brightly, running over to him, “Poseidon~!” he turned, seeing you still bloody and injured from your fight, and he was quick to have you in his arms, “You’re injured, idiot. I need to get you patched up.” You beamed brightly up at him, pecking his cheek which he did glance down at you for, not smiling, but you did see this face soften only slightly, “I almost attacked him when he hurt you. Nobody is allowed to hurt you.” You blushed cutely, holding your cheeks, which made him smile softly.

-Hades- He found you in the infirmary, getting x-rays of your bones that had been broken and you beamed brightly as he walked in, “My love!” he chuckled, coming over and pecked your cheek, but stayed out of the way for the examination. His scowl deepened as he saw the multitude of bandages on you, the wounds, his fury growing to see that this other god, who was lucky he was dead, had put his hands on you and caused you pain. He didn’t notice you were finished until you hugged him, his head on your chest, “Hades, let’s go get something to eat! I’;; cook for you!” he was quick to refuse, having you in his arms again, “You’re not, you’re going to rest.” You pouted lightly, but he wasn’t budging.

-Qin Shi Huang- In the infirmary, you were being patched up before you heard the rumbling of someone charging closer and closer before the door opened, revealing your love and you instantly melted, “Huang~” he was quick to have his hands on your face, inspecting the wounds and the bandages carefully, “Are you hurt? Of course, you are- what am I saying?! Is she all right? Are you all right?” you pecked his cheek after pulling him down, halting his rant but the valkyrie nurses thought it was rather funny before you had him sit next to you so you could lean your head on his shoulder, “I had no idea you were so strong!” you beamed, flexing your arm, “I’ve had lots of practice and experience!” he laughed warmly, leaning over to peck your cheek.

-Jack- He was waiting for you and your partner to arrive backstage; she grinned as she saw Jack waiting for you, rushing off to peek back behind the corner as Jack embraced you, pecking your forehead, “You had me worried there for a moment my dear. I am glad that you are back by my side.” you wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on the tips of your toes, pecking his lips, “Of course Jack, I gave you my word I would come back!” he chuckled softly, brushing your hair behind your ear, “Yes you did, I’m sorry to have doubted you.” You weren’t bothered, not in the slightest, before he led you to his room to patch you up himself.

-Hercules- He was running towards you, “Y/N!” as you arrived backstage and you grinned, opening your arms wide, “Hercules!” he swept you up into his arm, twirling around which made you giggle warmly as you hugged him before he tilted your head up and kissed you so passionately, one of your legs popped up. You were flushed when he pulled back before he picked you up, holding you like you were made of glass, “Don’t you ever scare me like that again!” you apologized, but you knew he wasn’t angry, at you at least, he was more furious that you had been so badly hurt, another man putting his hands on you. You could feel the heat radiating from Hercules, but that was quickly remedied with a couple of kisses and lots of affection afterwards.

-Ares- He met you in the infirmary, his eyes wide to see you so bruised and beat up, but he relaxed as you grinned over at him, “Hang tight handsome! I need to wash off and change so I can get patched up!” he nodded and waited patiently and when you came out, you could see the furious aura surrounding him, seeing all of the wounds. He, however, couldn’t do much, as you took a seat on his lap, keeping him there as he would dare not move you, something you knew and used to your advantage and something the nurses thought was cute as you spoke with him about your fight, finding it rather fun, except for the injuries. He pecked your forehead gently, saying nothing, but you could tell he was still pouting, which was adorable!

-Hermes- As soon as you and your valkyrie said your goodbyes, hugging each other, you were in his arms, sweeping you easily off your feet. You beamed up at him, “My love!” he chuckled softly, enjoying your kisses as he was focused on getting you to the infirmary, “You were amazing out there, Y/N. Were you really a pirate?” You just laughed warmly, your arms around his neck, “I was, but I was a chef first, then I was the cook on my crew!” he was surprised to learn this, as you didn’t really talk much about your past, other than your friends and Zeff and your time as a cook. He enjoyed learning this new side about you, wanting to learn more and more, a soft smile on his face.

-Buddha- You found him lounging on your couch in your waiting room after you got bandaged up, holding your jacket and vest in your hands, leaving only your sleeveless shirt on, as you had been quite roughed up. You smiled warmly as he opened his arms, wanting cuddles and he was quick to have you wrapped in his arms as you sighed in content, pressing a soft kiss to his collar bone as he moved his lollipop from one side of his mouth to the other, “I knew you were strong but…damn, that was hot!” you blushed cutely, sitting up, “You think so?” he grinned, locking his hands behind your back, “Absolutely! Seeing you kick ass like that was delicious.” You laughed at his slight tease before he pecked your forehead softly, telling you to get some rest.

-Zerofuku- The child ran for you as you made it backstage, “Y/N!” you could see he was crying as he was quick to leap into your arms, hugging you tightly, his face pressed into your chest for a moment before he pulled back, “You’re hurt!” you brushed his tears away, but gave him a warm grin, “But I’m alive! C’mon, let’s go get me patched up then we can go relax!” he cheered, holding onto your hand and actually dragged you after him to the infirmary, as he didn’t like seeing you in pain. He sat beside you, holding onto your arm like he was the one being treated, which was rather cute as you pecked his forehead softly, making him beam up at you. He was so stinking cute!

-Beelzebub- You yawned softly as you walked into your private waiting room, jacket and vest off and your shirt untucked and only barely buttoned, as you were covered in bandages. You let out a small squeak, seeing your lover sitting there, waiting for you before he was quick to come over, seeing your now bandaged wounds as you smiled warmly up at him, “Told you I’d win!” he couldn’t keep the smile from his lips, nodding, “Yes you did, and now- you’re resting until further notice!” he gave you no room to argue, sweeping you off your feet and carrying you over to the couch before sitting down, holding you in his lap. You arms were around his neck as you enjoyed his warmth, “Guess I will rest, only if you hold me.” he chuckled, his arms encircling your waist, holding you close.

-Nikola- Poor baby was nearly in tears when you made it back to him, greeting him with a bright smile, despite being bloody and bruised and he was quick to have you in his arms, sprinting to the infirmary, begging the nurses to save you. It’s not like you were dying, but you couldn’t stand seeing that poor heartbroken look on his face. You had been taking all the treatments with not even a whimper before you spoke, “Nikola, I want you to hold my hand, I’m scared~” the nurses thought it was cute that he took it so seriously, immediately sitting at your side, holding your hand and talking about his research, to distract you, unaware that you were the one distracting him!

-Hajun- The nurses were nervous under his fierce gaze, watching them patch you up. He didn’t like other’s touching you, not even other females, but he was allowing it only because they were helping you at the moment. You leaned your head on his arm, trying to get his attention on you and off of the poor nurse, but you couldn’t say anything, as you knew he was worried about you, which warmed your heart. In a rare soft moment, he brushed your hair from your face, “Does it hurt?” you smiled softly up at him, “It does, but it will heal. That’s proof that I’m alive!” he pressed a soft kiss into your hair, breathing out a bit deeply as he relaxed, you were alive, that’s all that mattered.

-Loki- Despite being the one injured, you were the one comforting him as you laid in one of the infirmary beds, his head on your lap, arms around your waist, pouting, as his shoulders were sagging, and he wasn’t talking. You didn’t like seeing your lover quiet, because he was only quiet when he was sleeping, or upset, and he wasn’t sleeping. You scratched his head gently, stroking through his hair and he nuzzled down into you a bit deeper and he froze when he felt you flinch, hitting one of the wounds that was a bit more tender. He pulled back instantly, looking scared, his eyes meeting yours and you instantly smiled, opening your arms, “I want a proper hug!” he smiled softly, saying nothing but carefully crawled forward and hugged you properly, feeling you, feeling that you were still with him.

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror thor #ror poseidon #ror hades #ror qin shi huang #ror jack the ripper #ror heracles #ror ares #ror hermes #ror buddha #ror beelzebub #ror zerofuku #ror hajun #ror nikola tesla #ror loki

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aruanimess · 12 days

Note

I'd like to know what ur Mikahisu headcanons are

So, uhh, this started out as headcanons and ended up being a micro fic. Sorry about that...

~~~

Their love story begins soon after the Rumbling.

After the final battle, Mikasa is broken. She has lost Eren, she has lost her purpose in life and she left all her friends behind to mark her own path forward. She’s a mess. She meanders from one place to the next, trying to find a way back to Paradis to return Eren’s remains to his final resting place.

Historia isn’t doing any better. She’s suffering from postpartum depression while dealing with the uprising of the Yeagerists and the unstable political situation Eren’s departure has caused. She has come to question almost every decision she’s made in her life, and most tragically she regrets the birth of her own daughter. After all, she chose to have her to avoid inheriting the Beast and that led to immeasurable devastation and destruction, so how could it have been a sound decision? What’s more, she’s half a child herself and she’s expected to raise another, while her role as a queen is more vital than ever. She’s worried that she’ll end up acting like her own mother, cold and distant and indifferent to her child, so she overcompensates by never letting her daughter out of sight and accepting no help, despite hating herself for bringing her into this world because of a failed and misguided political agenda.

So when Historia first hears about Mikasa arriving at the island, she sends word for her immediately. “Come to me,” she writes, “I’m desperate for a friendly face.”

But Mikasa doesn’t come.

How could she? She has no help to offer, no friendship to extend. She betrayed her oldest friend, and abandoned Armin and the rest in the middle of the desert. No, she’s not strong anymore, she wonders if she ever was…

She returns to her family’s cabin, which is miraculously unscathed by the Rumbling. She takes it as a sign that this is indeed the right place to be, where everything started. The blood has long dried off the floors and fungi has grown all over the walls and furniture.

Her new project begins.

She dusts the place, sands the wood and polishes it, replaces broken windows, shoos away the spiders and mice that have found shelter there, gets new furniture from nearby villages, and generally makes a home for herself. Meanwhile, she fishes in the stream for her own food, staring idly at the wind rustling the grass; she gathers firewood and forages in the forest, the scent of old tree and moist earth in her nostrils; she buys wool from a local shepherd and weaves herself a shaggy rug to dig her toes in on a cold winter.

Without her leave, she heals.

One crisp morning, on the verge of autumn, she’s peeling an apple in her garden. As she bites into the juicy flesh, she recalls the night after Historia’s coronation—rosy lips wet from cider, delirious laugh, kind blue eyes. Suddenly, she doesn’t remember why she kept her distance.

She picks up parchment and ink, and composes what she hopes is a heartfelt letter to Historia, explaining where she’s been this whole time and why she hasn’t replied for so long. At the end of the letter, right at the bottom, there’s a hesitant invitation for Historia and her daughter at her place. “But no guards, if you can help it,” she adds. “I have no taste for soldiers, and I can keep you safe enough.”

She seals the letter and sends it on its way, expecting nothing to come of it.

She’s wrong.

A fortnight later, Historia appears at her doorstep, cradling a pink, squealing bundle in her arms. “I came as fast as I could,” she says. “I made arrangements. No one knows I’m here.” There are dark circles under her eyes, but her face is flushed with joy. Something tells Mikasa that this is the first time Historia has smiled in a while.

She ushers the queen inside and settles her in the guest bedroom—Mikasa’s own childhood room. Historia sleeps soundly for the night, cuddling close to her baby, almost like she’s afraid she might lose her.

For breakfast, Mikasa serves mint tea and butter biscuits she baked herself. Historia eats it all as if it was the rarest delicacy.

After she’s done, she sighs. “I’m tired, Mikasa. Everything on this island is either ruined or run by Yeagerists. They’ve shut me out. I’ve lost public support. There’s nothing for me to do, but to quit.”

Mikasa is left speechless. Even at her darkest moments, Historia always had the willpower to go on. She never imagined she’d see her so defeated. Not knowing what else to say, she squeezes her hand. Her delicate knuckles are covered with calluses. “Take your time,” she says. And then to change the subject: “What’s her name?” She gestures to the little girl playing on the carpeted floor.

Historia smiles with some effort. “Maria,” she answers. “For the Survey Corps’ victory.” She pauses and takes a sharp breath. “For our victory.”

Mikasa smiles back. It doesn’t reach her eyes.

The months pass and with them winter. Historia learns how to make wine and bake apples. She spends her evenings lying on the sofa with her feet bare, resting beneath her, and her sewing project on her lap. She reads books and picks up folk songs and sings them to Maria as lullabies, even though Mikasa insists some of them are too dark for little ears.

For her part, Mikasa knits tiny hats for the baby and a red shawl for Historia. She gets acquainted with the local doctor, despite the lump that forms in her throat when she thinks about Dr Yeager, just in case Maria catches the flu. She carries the baby in a wrap fastened around her torso and she talks to her while she cleans the cabin. She learns that Historia loves roasted chestnuts and she makes them as often as possible just to see her smile.

(She promises herself to plant a chestnut tree come spring, and then pauses in shock as she realizes she’s making long term plans that might never come to be.)

Little Maria takes her first step in the cabin, her small chubby feet buried in the shaggy carpet Mikasa made. She learns to sleep through the night and eat solid foods. She says her first word, which is of course ‘mama.’ Only, confusingly, a few weeks later, her mutterings of ‘mama’ get interrupted by a jumbled ‘mi-a’ here and there.

It takes Historia a day to realize she’s trying to say ‘Mikasa.’ It takes Mikasa a little longer.

Mikasa and Historia share a bed. At first, Mikasa offers to sleep on the sofa, while Historia takes the bed, but after a few days Historia argues that there’s no point in her back developing knots, and that there’s enough space for both of them. It makes sense, in a completely practical way. It’s just for comfort and warmth. And if Mikasa wakes up sometimes with Historia’s arms wrapped around her frame and an insistent desire building in her core, that’s for her to deal with.

They share clothes as well, and on occasion they bathe with the door open, just in case someone needs the bathroom while it’s occupied.

Little by little, their feelings shift.

There are lingering glances and secret smiles and touches that last a moment too long. There are fluttering heartbeats and shy handholding and warmth rising up on cheeks as they speak with each other. Mikasa almost has a fit when Historia cuts her hand while cooking. Historia throws a blanket on Mikasa when she finds her passed out on the couch. They both fuss over each other almost as much as they fuss over Maria.

Their first kiss comes with the first stirrings of spring.

The snows have mellowed out around the cabin and the almond tree at the edge of the grove has sprouted its first blossoms. A robin is chirping away at the young rays of dawn. Historia is sitting on the porch, clutching a steaming mug of mint tea in a gloved hand, just like the one she drank on her first morning here. Unlike that first morning, however, her smile is effortless, wide, content. She breathes in the morning breeze and lets her lungs fill with the icy chill.

Mikasa emerges from the cabin. A warm gust of air escapes from the hearth burning away inside. She drapes the red shawl around Historia’s shoulders. It looks good on her. Soft. She tries not to think of her choice of color, of how she came to associate red with love and affection, and what that choice might mean for her. “It’s still cold out,” she chastices. “Don’t let the robins fool you.”

Historia hands her the mug. It’s a little crooked as she molded it herself from clay, but it does its job and it’s a testament of her ability to create something useful.

Mikasa takes a sip. She tastes mint, honey and Historia. She sighs.

“I know,” says Historia as she watches Mikasa intently. “I wanted to enjoy this for as long as I can.”

Mikasa looks around the semi-frozen grove. “Winter will come again,” she dismisses. “No need to freeze to death.”

Historia smiles sadly. “Yes, but I will not be here next winter.” She laughs at Mikasa’s uncomprehending stare. “Come spring, I’ll leave,” she explains. “It’s high time I assume again my duties to my people, now that I’m able to. There’s much work to be done. I left them helpless long enough as it is.”

There are no words in Mikasa’s mind, only bitter disappointment. “Oh.”

Historia grabs her hand. “Come with me.”

A blink. “Historia… I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I have no place there…”

“You can come live at the orphanage or at my place. Or I can give you an estate of your own if that’s what you prefer.”

“That’s not what I meant. I have no taste for politics. People will question me, if I show up. The way I left…”

“I’ll protect you!”

“Historia, please… I can’t.”

And Historia knows a rejection when she hears it. She lowers her eyes and wraps the shawl tighter around her body. “All right, if that’s what you want.”

Mikasa’s heart is breaking. She aches like she’s losing a limb seeing Historia so unhappy—Historia, who is about to leave her and take sweet Maria with her. Yet, she can’t return to that place, full to the brim with schemes and machinations and memories of her past.

But Historia’s eyes are so sad, so dull and disappointed. It feels like history is repeating itself; like she’s back on that dark hill, glimmering lights flickering from the tents below, the wind in her hair, and her love is leaving.

She opens her mouth. “Historia…” the words die on her lips. Historia looks at her, expectant. “Historia, you…” she stops again, and swallows around her nerves. “Historia... you’re family,” she finishes lamely.

Before she has any time to curse herself for her foolishness, Historia is upon her. She grabs her by the lapels of her robe, brings her close and smashes their lips together, painfully, violently.

When they break apart, Historia is beaming. “I’ll come to you then,” she says. “Like I did before. You’ll see! I’ll take Maria and sneak out of the palace and visit you as often as I’m allowed.” Her chest is heaving as she speaks. “And when I deal with those morons who think they can run my country, I’ll appoint a new government and retire here. With you. What do you think?”

Mikasa smiles. It’s a lovely thought. A peaceful life, here, in nature, with Maria and Historia by her side. It sounds like an impossible dream, but damn her if she doesn’t want to believe in it, body, mind and soul. “It sounds perfect,” she says.

Historia nods, eyes shining with tears and hope. She rises to her tiptoes and kisses Mikasa, deep and long.

Mikasa tastes mint, honey and Historia.

#asks #mikahisu #hisumika #historia x mikasa #mikasa x historia #mikasa ackerman #historia reiss #femslash #long post

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singmyaubade · 1 year

Text

take it or leave it

enemy!james potter x female!reader

summary: you knew liking james potter would be a challenge but you were ready to face it.

word count: 1.2k

warning: cursing, angst, and eventual smut.

Another argument at the start of Quidditch.

Great.

Two soon-to-be Quidditch captains, unable to get along for one practice.

Really great.

It all started with James muttering something about how you only got on the team because of your brother and how you have to show skill now that he's gone.

He knew that would infuriate you, and it did.

This caused an argument that made everyone's heads hurt and only took time away from practice.

Everyone was sick of both of you, including both of your friend groups.

"Oh yeah, Potter?" You scoffed at him, "You are as useless as a bloody troll when it comes to Quidditch, and I am sure you are half-troll based on how you fly."

"Aww, you watch me?" He taunted.

As you were about to fight his words back, you were interrupted.

"That's it!" Trevor Wood, the Quidditch Captain, yelled.

You both closed your mouths, glaring at each other.

"I am sick of half our practices going to waste because you can't stop bickering!" He argued, "You are both entirely insufferable, and the only reason I haven't benched you both is because you are actually decent players."

Your tongue curled in your mouth, eyes averted to the side.

"I apologize, Wood," James was the first to speak, which surprised you, "If L/n wasn't so intolerable, we could somewhat actually win this season." The insult flowed as if he was saying his ABCs.

Trevor sighed.

You tried biting your tongue back but couldn't, "I am intolerable?" You repeated with a sarcastic laugh, "You are so intolerable that Evans couldn't bear to even utter a word to you." You smirked.

He grew red, "You wanna know what? You are the most-"

"Stop!" Trevor yelled, "You both have left me with no choice."

You both looked at him, scared he would kick you off the team.

Trevor finally spoke after several moments as if he had thought about the most miraculous idea.

"If you can prove to me that you both somewhat like each other by the end of the semester, I will ensure that both of you will be Quidditch captains next year. If you don't, I will bench you both for the rest of next semester." Trevor Wood states, putting his hand out to make the deal.

"That's outrageous!" You said, scoffing.

James looked equally perplexed, "Yeah, I mean, you know we hate each other, and how does that help you in any way?" James asked, looking a bit furious.

"One, it gets you both to actually spend time with each other and get along for the sake of everyone and two, I can finally run my Quidditch practices without the two of you being a pain in my arse." He explained.

"I respect you a lot, Wood, but this is impossible," You replied, "I mean, we just don't get along like cats and mice."

"Yeah," James agreed, "She is like the most annoying mouse that eats all your food and disgusts you."

You glared daggers at him, "I will actually kill you."

"See, you guys can't even agree with each other without an insult attacking each other," Trevor added, "This is the final choice for the both of you, take it or leave it.

You looked at James to see his jaw clenched; you could tell he was thinking hard and long about this.

Your heart was telling you to take the deal for your Quidditch career and that it would only be better for the long run, and you could somewhat get along with James.

Your mind was telling you that this was entirely ridiculous and there was no way you could ever get along with James due to his unbearable personality.

"I'll do it." James begrudgingly said, looking at Trevor.

Trevor then looked at you in question.

"I'll do it." You said, teeth gritting.

"Great!" Wood clapped his hands together, "Start now." He dismissed as you both groaned.

As you both were walking back to the locker rooms, you decided to at least talk to James about what they could do to prove to Wood that they liked each other.

"Potter," You looked at him, but he continued looking straight, "We actually have to figure out a way to prove it to him for the sake of the both of us."

He remained silent.

"How old are we to be doing the silent treatment?" You asked, rolling your eyes.

"This is all your fault." He muttered, shaking his head.

"How is this all my fault?" You scoffed.

"Because why do you always have to be so insufferable all the time?" He argued, looking at you this time.

"You are the one who always has to insult me even when I don't say a word to you!" You argued back.

"It's because your very presence angers me." He added.

"I don't even speak to you yet; you have a problem with everything I do; it makes no sense!" You angrily said.

"Whatever." He replied.

"Whatever?" You wanted to punch him, "This isn't whatever; this is my entire Quidditch career and yours. This isn't whatever; you need to start caring."

He suddenly moved close to you, his forehead nearly touching yours, and you could feel the blush roaming over your cheeks. You went to move backward, hitting a wall, but you failed to realize throughout the arguing that you both were in the locker room.

"You don't think I give a shit, L/n?" He spat, "This is all I have ever worked for, and yet, the only thing in my way is you."

You tensed, not even being able to muster up words. The meeting of your thighs spoke more now than you ever could.

"So don't you dare try to talk to me as if your career is the only one in jeopardy." He argued.

You still couldn't believe how close you both were to each other.

"I know it's not only me, so we must prove it to Wood." You finally spoke, "I can find it in my heart to get over whatever this is if it means that we both can be Quidditch captains."

He stepped back from you, "Fine, don't step on my toes, and I won't step on yours."

"No, we have to actually like each other, not just be forced to tolerate each other." You explained, "We actually have to hang out."

James sighed, "Okay, you can hang out with us.” He said, referring to his usual gang.

You grimaced, "Uh no, you can hang out with Dorcas, Mary, and Marlene."

His jaw tensed, "No, you can hang out with the us."

You scoffed, "You can hang out with us, and you might learn something smart." You insulted.

"What are you trying to say about us?" James argued.

"I'm sure you know what I meant." You sarcastically smiled.

"Yet the lot of you fell for the green skin prank." He laughed.

You were about to turn red, "That was not funny."

"You were in your true form, a bloody witch." He continued laughing at his own joke.

"You, you are just-" You couldn't think of an insult, "Whatever, we will start tomorrow." You said, stomping away from him as you continued hearing his laughing from miles away, a hundred percent sure he was continuing it to piss you off.

You knew this was going to be a challenge.

But you were ready to attempt to like James Potter,

Even if it costs you your dignity.

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