#I spent so long on this I can’t believe it

[ponderingmoonlight]

And yet, you're here

Pairing: Geto x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,8k

Synopsis: Years after Suguru left, you're still not able to get him off your mind. When he reappears years after his betrayal, the past collides with the present. Unexpected, in a way you didn't even dare to dream about.

Warnings: this isn't proofread 100%, the emotional rollercoaster you deserve, hurt to comfort big time, this is for all my geto girlies who deserve their happy ending

please please please make this go viral thank you

„He’s a threat for the whole population!”

“We need to kill that brat before he kills all non-sorcerers.”

“I can’t believe someone like him was able to do something like…that.”

“So much wasted potential. Why does a special grade sorcerer act this way?”

“I thought he’s a nice boy.”

“So, you’re not one of those nice guys I guess.”

The sun already hung so low in the sky that you were barely able to see his soft features, let alone the surprised look that crept over his face while hearing those words coming from your mouth.

“Are you talking about me or Satoru?”

You let out one of those cute chuckles he adored so much, the kind he heard in his head on repeat even when you were long gone. Gosh, he couldn’t get enough of this. Those lonely nights with only you and a cigarette by his side, the countless hours he spent trying to understand you while it was his mind that slowly but surely fell apart.

“Nope, I’m always talking about you, Suguru.”

“What am I if not a nice guy, then?”

Sure, Satoru Gojo was his one and only best friend, but you were something else entirely: An unspoken bond that lived in the spaces between words, in glances that lingered just a moment too long. You weren’t a lover, not in the conventional sense, but you weren’t just a friend either. You were a mirror to his soul, the keeper of truths he couldn't bear to speak aloud, and the only person who could hold the weight of his silence without it breaking you both.

“You’re... complicated,” you finally replied, the word laced with warmth rather than judgment.

“You’re the kind of person who feels too much but hides it too well. The kind who would burn the world down if it meant saving the people you love. Not everyone understands that, but I do. Or at least I’m convinced I do.”

Suguru’s lips twitched into a faint smile, more melancholic than amused.

“Complicated, huh? That’s one way to put it.”

“And dangerous,” you added lightly, the hint of a smile in your voice.

“But not in the way they think. Not to me.”

His expression softened, the darkness in his eyes easing for just a moment as he stared at you.

“Not to you,” he echoed, as though testing the words on his tongue, letting them sink into the cracks of his fraying soul.

Till this day, that one last conversation both of you had on that lonely bench still haunts him. The way you looked at him back then, as if you’d already knew that you might never see him again, as if you just counted the hours until he goes berserk.

What are you thinking about him now?

Is he still on your mind?

Are you hating him the way Satoru does?

“You’re thinking about her again, don’t you?”

Fuck. He thought about you.

Again.

Suguru lets out a sharp exhale, the sound halfway between a sigh and a laugh, bitter enough to sting his own ears. How pathetic he has to look to the people surrounding him. When he walked down this path, he knew that he’ll have to do it without you, that he won’t be able to see you again. And yet…

Losing you seems to hurt more than anything else.

 “Of course I am,” he admits to his assistant, his voice low and rough like gravel underfoot.

“Not like I can help it. She’s everywhere, even when she’s not. It’s ridiculous.”

There it is again, your face ghosting through his mind. Other than Satoru and Shoko, you never really tried to find him. If you wanted to, you would, right? Maybe you’re too mad at him for all the things he’s done. Or maybe you already forgot about him.

 “But it doesn’t matter, does it? She’s gone. Just like everything else.”

For a moment, he closes his eyes, trying to drown out the memories, the sound of your laugh, the way your voice softened when you said his name, the weight of your eyes on him as if you could see through all the lies he told himself. He’d burn every memory if he could, let them smolder in the same fire that consumed the rest of his life.

“Besides. She’d hate me now, just like everyone else. Maybe she was just waiting for me to turn into the monster she saw coming.”

“Stop stewing in these thoughts, that doesn’t matter anymore. We’re expecting another bunch of monkeys in half an hour.”

But even as she said it, the words tasted wrong. It shouldn’t matter that he can still feel the warmth of your gaze, your unwavering belief in him, and yet it cuts deeper than any accusation ever could. Suguru shakes his head while straightening his shoulders, eyes locked onto Manami in front of him in order to force you off his mind.

“Doesn’t matter,” he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper, as though trying to convince himself.

“It’s too late for that now. So, where’s the monkeys?”

“Why did I know I’d find you here?”

His voice startles you, making you jump slightly. You turn to see none other than Satoru Gojo standing there, hands in his pockets, his white hair catching the fading sunlight. The sunglasses perched on his nose don’t quite hide the sharp edge in his expression he usually wears around you.

“Because I’m always here, I guess,” you reply softly, your tone as tired as the circles under your eyes appear.

“And I told you to stop a long time ago,” Satoru bites back, his voice bitter, cutting.

“The Suguru you knew… he’s gone.”

The weight of his words lands hard, though they’re not new. He’s said them before, with the same venom in his voice, every time you bring up Suguru or the past.

“I know. I’ve always known.”

“Then why do you keep punishing yourself? Dropping out of Jujutsu High when everyone needed you didn’t bring him back. Hiding out here doesn’t change anything, y’know?”

“It wasn’t about bringing him back, Satoru,” you snap, your voice sharper than you intend.

“It was about… letting him go. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me,” he challenges, stepping closer.

“I’ve spent years watching people destroy themselves over things they can’t fix. I know the look in your eyes - you miss him. You always have. But you didn’t even try to stop him when he turned his back on us.”

You flinch, his words hitting a nerve.

“Because it wasn’t my place. I wasn’t like you, Gojo. I wasn’t his best friend. I wasn’t strong enough to drag him back kicking and screaming or to stand in his way. All I could do was… let him live the way he decided to. I thought… maybe if I stayed behind, if I didn’t follow him, he’d understand that I believed in him, that I trust him and his actions, the path he chooses. That I’d be here if he ever wanted to come back.”

Satoru’s shoulders tense, his jaw tightening. He never understood. Until this day, he never wrapped his head around the fact that you didn’t try to stop his best friend back then. You, who had more power over Suguru than himself.

God, how much he hates that disgusting truth until now.

“And look where that got you,” he mutters.

You look away, your hands gripping the edge of the bench for support.

“I never expected to see him again, Satoru. I didn’t think I’d matter enough to him for that.”

The silence between you stretches thin, brittle as glass.

“Do you think he hates me?” you ask, your voice barely audible.

“For staying behind? For not going after him?”

Gojo doesn’t answer, which is answer enough. You know he blames you, at least a little, for what happened. For not doing more. For leaving everything to him. For allowing Suguru to turn his back on Jujutsu High.

“Suguru hating you? Never. I bet he still thinks about you every damn day”, Satoru mutters under his breath before turning on his heels and leaving you standing in the rain.

Suguru, still thinking about you? You shake your head vehemently, not allowing that absurd thought into your brain. If he would miss you, he’d visit you, right? In all those years, he never lifted a finger in order to find you.

You were right there. In your small apartment, at jujutsu high.

Maybe he forgot about you after all.

“Me? Forgetting you? I’d never be able to do that, (y/n).”

Maybe some promises are meant to be broken.

-a few evenings later-

You’ve drank too much.

You always do when Shoko isn’t with you, when no one’s around to watch you. But even though you emptied a whole bottle of liqueur on your own, you still aren’t able to forget him. Fuck, his face is glued onto your mind like a second skin, never leaves you even though you drink enough to forget your own name.

Will it always feel like this? Will that ache ever go away?

“What are you thinking about, handsome?”

“Something I’ve lost some while ago”, you mumble, absently swirling your glittery cocktail around.

“That’s a bummer.”

You don’t even gift the random stranger next to you a look, the guy who smells like cheap cigarettes so vehemently that you feel like throwing up.

Maybe it’s time to call it a day.

“Yeah. Whatever.”

You spring back onto your feet, the alcohol vibrating through your veins. You were never much of a drinker back then, only shared a cigarette with Suguru from time to time. But this became your only way to numb the pain. At least for a few hours, at least for some time.

The cold air of the night hits your face like a wall. Even though it’s far past midnight, the city buzzes in street light, laughter and cries. And yet, all you’re able to think about is him again. His laugh, his voice, the way he used to look at you when he thought no one else was watching. Is it wrong to long for him? Is it disgusting that you couldn’t care less about the things he’s done those past years, about what he’d become?

You shake your head, trying to dispel the thoughts, but they cling to you, stubborn and relentless. Why can’t you just stop? Stop longing for something that will never happen, stop running after a person who is long gone? Suguru won’t come back, you won’t just meet him on a random street-

The click of footsteps catches your attention. Heavy, yet elegant footsteps across the still busy street.

At first, you think it’s just another stranger wandering through the city’s darkened streets. But something about the rhythm - steady, purposeful - sets your nerves on edge. Something about this feels familiar.

You glance up, your heart skipping a beat as your gaze meets a pair of familiar dark brown eyes.

Suguru Geto.

The world around you blurs, the sounds of the city fading into silence. It’s him, unmistakably him. His hair is longer than you remember, strands sticking to his face from what looks like rain, or maybe it’s sweat. Blood splatters ruin his clothes and the sharp line of his jaw, painting a stark, gruesome picture paired with those cold orbs. His expression is unreadable, but his eyes… they’re searching, watching your every move.

You should run, or scream, or yell at him – at least something that shows him what he put you through.

Anything.

He’s the same man who left you, who walked away from everything, from you. He, who didn’t even tell you about his true feelings, who didn’t care about the consequences of his actions, who didn’t even ask you to join. All those miserable nights you imagined him sitting next to you on that bench, the bottles of alcohol you’ve drank just to forget his name. He needs to pay for it, needs to know what he did to you by leaving you behind.

But instead, your feet move of their own accord, closing the distance between you in an instant.

Before he can react, you throw your arms around him so, pulling him into a tight embrace.

Suguru freezes, his body stiff against yours. He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, as if the sheer force of your presence has left him powerless. You bury your face against his chest, not caring about the blood, the grime, or the hurricane of questions swirling in your mind. All you care about is the fact that he’s here, alive, and solid beneath your touch. You can feel him – not only in your dreams, but for real.

Suguru is here.

He’s alive.

He’s right between your arms.

The scent of him - familiar, though tinged with something darker - fills your senses, dragging you back into a world you thought you’d never touch again. Tears sting your eyes, but you bite them back, unwilling to let them fall.

“Suguru,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

Finally, he moves. His arms lift hesitantly, then wrap around you with a force that knocks the air out of your lungs. He holds you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear any given minute, his grip firm and desperate. His head dips slightly, and for a moment, you think you feel him trembling too.

“What are you doing?”

His voice is rough, low, almost broken.

“I don’t know,” you admit, your voice muffled against his chest.

“I just… I missed you.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes scanning your face as if trying to memorize every detail.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he mutters, his tone a mixture of regret and warning.

“Neither should you,” you counter, your gaze unwavering.

Suguru’s lips twitch, almost forming a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He lifts a hand, his fingers brushing against your cheek as though testing if you’re real.

“You should hate me.”

“Maybe I should,” you reply, your voice steady despite the storm raging inside you.

God, you’re so furious at him. Mad because he ran away, mad because he left you standing in the rain.

Mad because this is actually the first time Suguru Geto hugged you.

“But I don’t. I guess I could never hate you.”

His expression falters, the mask he’s worn for so long cracking just enough to reveal the man beneath. The one you knew, the one you loved in a way you never fully understood. And for the first time since leaving everything behind, he feels that small ray of sunshine taking in his heart again.

“You don’t know what I’ve done, what I’ve become. I was so sure you’ll hate me like everyone else.”

“I know enough. And I don’t care. You’re still Suguru Geto, aren’t you?”

He exhales sharply, the sound almost like a laugh, though there’s no humor in it. You, not caring about the fact that he ended countless lives out of his own fulfilment? You, a jujutsu sorcerer who always protected those monkeys?

“You’re too good for this,” he bites back, shaking his head.

“Too good for me.”

“Don’t decide that for me,” you snap, surprising even yourself with your suddenly so sharp tone.

“You don’t get to make that choice. You already did when you left without saying goodbye”

The silence between you stretches, heavy with unspoken words. You’re right and he knows it. But… Was it really a possibility to take you with him back then? Was there a tiny chance that you…would have joined him?

Slowly, he leans his forehead against yours, his eyes closing as though seeking comfort in your presence. No, he doesn’t want to think this through. Not right now. Not when he feels your heart pound against his body, not when you’re this close to him for the very first time.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” he admits, his voice barely a whisper.

“I told myself it was better that way.”

“And yet you’re here,” you point out softly.

“And yet I’m here,” he echoes, his lips curving into a faint, bitter smile.

For a moment, it’s just the two of you. No blood, no curses, no jujutsu, no past or future. Just the weight of the present, fragile and fleeting. And for now, that’s enough.

For now, simply holding the man you thought you’ve lost forever on a random street is more than enough to make you feel whole again.

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[delumineight]

i’m in tears 4000 reblogs… this is tumblr i would be so embarrassed of that i don’t even tell anyone in real life that i use this app. that aside im gonna skip that second paragraph because everything else is going to answer that. i’m assuming you’ve been here a while so i know changing your opinion won’t work too well, but you’re looking at this all so one dimensionally.

first off, that happens in year six. there is no “year seven.” and i am glad that you’re bringing up hermione’s faults because usually it’s all about ron! i just don’t think you’re familiar with Being In Love and to be honest i don’t care if hermione beats up on ron. he doesn’t either!!! am i supposed to hate women hit men? no. why would i? that’s praxis. when hermione jokes about it in the next book, he laughs. and if she did it then, he definitely would have deserved it if we’re going to be honest. ron probably likes her for any of the following and perhaps more: she is funny believe it or not, her vindication, the fact that she rides so hard for him and harry, how she cares about him, how she’s kind enough to want to kill some random chickens for them on the horcrux hunt, how insanely passionate she is about everything, and probably so much more that i don’t care to list or think of.

when harry’s away they could be doing anything. hogwarts is a big school. they canonically go to the library a few times, play wizards chess as you’ve mentioned, and do some homework/studying (much to ron’s dismay, i’ll admit). the book is told from harry’s perspective. we aren’t supposed to know what ron and hermione are doing 24/7 and that’s part of it all. this is where you use something called your imagination. they’re prefects together. which means that they spent hours walking around the school alone together. probably just chatting about whatever or even in silence, which can sometimes be so much more intimate than a chat.

ron’s opinion on house-elves doesn’t just change randomly throughout deathly hallows. the two elves in this book are insanely important to the plot, defeating voldemort, and the trio’s survival if you’ve forgot. kreature tells them about the locket and the story of how it originally was removed from the cave. dobby dies for them and saves hermione from being raped by greyback. the reason for the kiss is so big because it does in fact show that ron is growing up and changing, because they are children for the entire series minus a few months during deathly hallows.

and are you serious about this one? why didn’t they tell harry? dude, they didn’t tell each other for seven years and he was, i dunno, the center of a fucking war by the time they realised that they liked each other for real??? like, again, seriously?

they have “no development” in the epilogue because you’ve skipped 19 years and it’s like six pages long and not about them. it’s about harry’s gay son who is scared of being a slytherin, not ron or hermione or rose or hugo. they’re just little figurines in the background of harry’s small dilemma with his son that only have a few lines of small talk with their best friend/in law.

also, acting like ron and hermione’s relationship was out of no where just proves that you probably haven’t read the first two or three books in a while. some venture to say that seed was planted during the first book when ron sarcastically calls hermione “a lovely, sweet tempered girl” or the wingardium leviosa scene or when he beats her at wizard’s chess and it’s the first thing she’s ever lost at. jkr herself said once that they were meant to be a bit “love at first sight”-y (they’re 11 so i’m not 100% a fan of that) but if you can’t see it when he nearly jumps draco malfoy in chamber of secrets for wishing hermione dead or when he keeps looking sadly at her empty seat while she’s petrified you’re being purposefully dense.

if you’d like to try some more arguments please go ahead, but make them harder. this was entirely too easy and elementary. i could’ve given these same answers when i was thirteen.

“I used to ship Harry and Hermione together but that was back when I was 12 years old. Now, I’ve grown up and realized that Ron and Hermione make much more sense together and are good together” is a sure-fire way to tell me you didn’t “grow up”.

[applecherrytea]

“Under the Rain, Stuck in my room”

Request from @diced-sugar: Hello! I just came across your blog from scrolling through the twst tag, so sorry I don’t know much about your preferences for writing certain characters 😞 but, if you want a request, could we maybe get something to do with your fav twst character and the prefect being forced to stay together at ramshackle due to a rainy day? Could be cute!! Have a nice day!!

A/N: AAAAAAA I’m so happy! Finally! An excuse to write about my husband and children! Most of these will be romantic, but if you want a platonic version all you need to be is send in an ask! I’ll be happy to write one! Thanks again for sending me your request! I hope you’ll like this!

Character(s) Involved: Trey Clover, Leona Kingscholar, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia

CW/TW: G/N!Reader for the most of it. Some strong language during Idia’s part

The downpour came on so suddenly, one moment the sky was sunny and bright, the next it started raining so bad that all classes were suspended! Luckily you and [Character] are together! It’s too bad he wouldn’t be able to go back to his dorm though…

The rain really came on as a surprise. You had asked him to come over, so he could help you out with baking and learning how to cook with the ingredients you were able to haggle at Mr. Sam’s shop. You still can’t believe that that place was more than a magic store. “Wow…it’s really raining out there..” You say as you lean yourself on the window sill, Trey behind you, cooking up what was left of the ingredients you bought. “I already called Riddle, he said I should stay here till the storm blows over.” he said as he plated the food, “You don’t mind, do you perfect?” you signal no with your head, moving away from the window to help Trey out with cleaning up so you both could eat.

Leona was already getting comfortable on your couch as you watched the rain from the guest room window. “This sucks!” Leona peeks open one eye, “I was really looking forward to those specialty lunches they were gonna serve at the cafeteria!” you stomped your way over to the couch, plopping yourself on the empty space Leona gracefully left for you. “You know,” the lion beastman mused, “if you want, I can just order it for you?” he says as he pulls you down to his chest. You look at him quizzically “You really?” he hummed in response, “I told you already, you can use my money on whatever you need. And if what you need is a specialty lunch then,” he offered his phone to you “knock yourself out” You gleaned as you stood up with his phone in your hand, ordering lunch for you three. “Thanks a lot, love!” you pecked his cheek as you stood up from the couch, picking up Grim in the process.

“THIS SUCKS ASS!!!” both you and Idia screamed as you watched the rain pour down. He slumps down to the ground, back facing the wall. “This is so not cool…it’s like watching your new game unload all its data for hours!” you sighed as you joined the complaining housewarden on the floor. “Tell me about it..” you both sat in silence for a while, fidgeting with nearby things as you awkwardly awaited for the rain to stop. “So…” Idia sat idly as he took out his phone, “wanna play while we wait this out?” you smirked as a response, “Is that even a question?” You and Idia spent the next hours playing around multiple games, so long that the weather had passed and Ortho had to come out and take Idia back to Ignihyde.

You knew that the rain was coming, props to the forecaster for reporting about it. You sat in your living room with Grim for a while, waiting for a special someone to come over for your usual nightly walks. “I wonder how long he’s gonna take? The rain looks so serious…” As you said those words, a knock came from the main door. You hurriedly get up from the couch you were lazing on, wearing your rain clothes as well as an umbrella as you open the doors. “Hornton! There you are, was wondering when you’d come over.” you opened the door widely for Malleus. He smiled as he entered your dorm. “Thank you, child of man. If you are ready, then shall we go and take a look at the gargoyles?” You nod happily as you head out with Malleus for a rainy adventure.

[holylulusworld]

Every Breath you take (21)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: a man out of time, secret admirer trope, “crazy” reader, fluff, domestic life

A/N: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Catch up here: Every Breath you take (20)

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

Three months later, you and Bucky found a rhythm, literally. You’re slow dancing together, swaying to one of his favorite songs. Resting your head against his chest, you close your eyes and let Bucky guide your body.

Dancing aside, you found a rhythm to follow for your future together.

Trust is the key. You promised each other to have faith in your relationship. Bucky and you are in this together.

Maybe you started your relationship the crazy way, but this doesn’t mean it won’t last. His obsession and your level of devotion match.

You sigh, remembering all the nights you spent tangled in each other over the last months, as you sway.

“Doll, are you hungry?” Bucky murmurs, bringing you out of your daydreams. You place your head on his chest, smiling as you can hear his heartbeat. “We could have a snack, or do you want to cook together?”

You blink your eyes open and lift your head from his chest. “Hmmm…” you nod and rest your head back against his chest. “We could cook together again. Maybe we won’t burn it this time.”

“That wasn’t my fault,” he chuckles. “You distracted me with your wandering hands. How can a man resist if you call him sweet names and touch him like you do?

You giggle. Bucky is putty in your hands, and you love it. Both of you touch-starved to an extent; you can’t keep your hands to yourself most of the time.

Maybe it’s only the honeymoon phase, but you believe it’s more than this. Bucky and you are meant to be together; you just know it.

“We have the vegetables from the farmer’s market, chicken, and lots of cheese. Let’s look online if we find a good recipe.”

“You forgot the plums,” Bucky teases because you love to steal his favorite fruits. “Lots of them, baby doll. We can eat them for dessert.”

“Oh, I found a nice recipe for a plum cobbler with whipped cream. It sounds deliciously, Bucky. We could try to make it too. It’s not hard to make.”

“Do not forget, we are beginners,” Bucky jokes. “We don’t want to burn down the house.” He chuckles when you look up at him and stick your tongue out. “Last time you ended up burning the dishtowel.”

“That was an accident,” you point out. “Accidents happen, Bucky. Especially in the kitchen. We have to be more careful while cooking from now on. No distractions this time.”

“No more distractions,” Bucky nuzzles your hair. “I promise to not fall for you. I’ll focus on cooking, not my sexy girlfriend. He gropes your ass with both hands and purrs your name. “Let’s find a recipe, doll.”

“Wow! We made it,” Bucky hums while happily tasting the food you made. It doesn’t look bad. “Hmm... the cheesy chicken and vegetable pasta bake recipe you found is great.”

“I knew you’d like it.” You smile happily. Cooking with Bucky was fun. He even cracked a joke and told you a little more about his past. Mostly from his childhood, and how he loved to watch his mom cook. “We should do this more often.”

Bucky smiles. This is exactly what he had dreamed of for so long—sharing his life with someone he loves and filling the home he built with love.

All he misses is a little one running around your home. There is plenty of time to talk about children with you, too. For now, he must be patient and wait for the right time to ask you to have his child.

He’ll propose first, of course. Bucky is still a gentleman out of time. He won’t fill you with his baby without putting a ring on your finger.

“I’m so full,” you say, and rub your belly. “I bet that’s how you feel when pregnant.” You pat your belly, giggling. “What do you think, Buck?”

Bucky stares at your belly. He licks his lips, imagining you all swollen with his child. Something else stirs in his belly than hunger—or rather, a different kind of hunger. “You think so?” His voice is a little rougher when he looks at you. “Do you think you’ll like feeling a baby inside your belly?”

“Bucky,” you purr his name. You crook your finger to lure him in. “Do you want to have a baby one day?”

“Yeah—” he husks. “So bad. I can see you all swollen, breasts leaking milk. I’d rub your belly while…”

You whimper and shift in your seat. “Uh—we don’t have to have one right now, but…” You smirk and pucker your lips. “I’d like you to breed me tonight…”

Tags in reblog.

[middleearthpixie]

I'll See You in My Dreams ~ Prologue

A/N: This is the sequel to my 2022 story, Where I Belong. I had no plans to write a follow up to that, since it seemed Noelle and Thorin’s story was told as far as it could go. But then, a few weeks ago, I found myself wondering what would happen if Thorin somehow came back to Noelle’s place and time? What if their story wasn’t quite finished? Anyway, here is, I hope, what will be the answer to those questions. And if you’re unfamiliar with Noelle and Thorin, here is where their story began… 

Summary: Noelle James knows soul mates exist, the trouble is, she just can’t seem to find hers. Especially since hers seemed to have existed only in the world of cinema and The Hobbit movies. No one believes she actually spent time in Tolkien’s Middle Earth and even fewer believe Thorin Oakenshield existed in her world, either. 

So when she finds herself unexpectedly alone on yet another Christmas, she has no way of knowing exactly what the universe has in store for her this time.The trouble is, this man claiming to be Thorin can’t possibly be him, for he died at the hands of Azog the Defiler at Ravenhill. She saw him die with her own eyes.

So, it can’t be him.

Or can it?

Pairing: Thorin x ofc Noelle James

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.3k

I’ll see you in my dreams 

When all our summers have come to an end

I’ll see you in my dreams,

We’ll meet and live and laugh again

I’ll see you in my dreams, up around the riverbed

For death is not the end…

Prologue

Erebor

Thorin hadn’t realized he was humming until Thalia shot him a quizzical look, to which he replied, “What?”

“You’re doing it again.”

He bit back a sigh, setting down his fork. “I apologize. I’ve had a long day and have much on my mind. And for some reason, I cannot seem to pry the tune from my head.”

“But that song is like none I’ve ever heard.” Her forehead wrinkled, her thick, dark brows furrowing as she did so. In the flickering golden candlelight, that expression made her face, normally so round and full of laughter, look almost craggy and wizened. It wasn't the first time he’d thought so, but for some reason, it had troubled him far more often of late.

He shared supper with her every evening in her flat and until recently, it had been a highlight of his day. They got on well and she made him smile, and little by little, it seemed only natural that he should begin thinking about taking a wife. Taking her as his wife.

He hadn’t broached the subject yet, though, as the timing just never seemed quite right. Then the blasted song began echoing inside his skull. There were no lyrics at first, only the melody. But, lately, as he hummed, hints of words had begun forming in his brain.

But where had he heard any of it, for it sounded like no music he knew.

“Are you certain? I thought we heard it at Yule?”

She shook her head, the wooden beads in her beard clacking. “I know I’ve never heard it. Might you at least sing me some of it?”

He shook his head. “I recall no words, but only the music.” He reached for his napkin, dabbed at his lips, and then pushed back his chair to rise. “My apologies, Thalia. I think it would be best if I took my leave now.”

Her lips curved downward in a hint of a pout and the motion smoothed the furrows in her forehead as if an invisible filament connected them. “Have you found fault with my cooking?”

“No, of course not. It just as I said, I’ve much on my mind and I fear I’m not good company as a result.”

She rose, skirting the table to catch him by the wrist. “Perhaps a walk might clear your thoughts.”

“Thank you, but no. I think only sleep will help this time.” He patted her hand, then pulled free to strides toward the door. “I will see you come tomorrow, then.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

He stepped out of her flat, pulling the door softly closed behind him. Flames danced behind globes of frosted glass in sconces mounted high along the labradorite stone walls that were slowly being polished back to their former glory.

Erebor. For so long, Thorin could only dream of reclaiming his home, of rightfully claiming his throne within those stone walls. Now that he had, it wasn't quite the dream come true he’d once imagined. No, he’d spent nearly six months recuperating from the wounds he’d received at Ravenhill, at hands of the pale orc Azog the Defiler, and when he’d done that?

The real work had begun.

It was a two-steps-forward-one-step-back process, but over the last six months, he could at least now see the signs of renovation, especially in the main levels of the kingdom. The lower levels, aside from the forges, still needed much in the way of work, but as he made his way up to the Great Hall, cracked, damaged, and sooty stone gave way to solid walls polished to an almost-mirror like finish. 

But he didn't stop at the Great Hall. Nor did he make his way up to the ramparts, where he’d preferred to go when he needed to think and clear his head. 

No this time, he went outside, nodding at the guard in the gatehouse as he left the warmth of the fortress to step into the darkness of the winter night. Snow drifted, blew this way and that, swirling wildly about him as he followed the narrow slate pathway away from Erebor. The pathway became a flight of cut-stone stairs, worn and crumbling in places, that led up behind his kingdom, toward a different fortress. One he did not often venture to without good reason. 

Ravenhill was not high on the list of his favorite places. In fact, he avoided it as much as possible. But for some reason, he felt drawn there this evening. The tune that had been playing in his head for the last few days grew louder now. And not only that, but the words that had been but fragments were fragments no more. Instead, they became words he knew, yet didn't know at all. 

Well, it ain’t no secret, I’ve been 'round a time or two. Well, I don’t know, baby, maybe you been around, too. Well, there’s another dance, honey. All you gotta do is say yes, and if you’re rough and ready for love, honey, I’m tougher than the rest.

The voice singing them in his head did not belong to him. It was raspier than his and not nearly as deep. And while he didn't know whose voice it was, he knew he would know the name, should he ever hear it.

Or perhaps he was just going mad again. 

Snow blew harder now, but he didn't really feel the cold. Didn't notice the flakes sweeping his nose, getting caught in his beard, in his hair. All he knew was the voice in his head grew louder as he neared the river. 

A vision swept before his eyes. A woman. With a long tangle of red hair. In his arms.

Well, it ain’t no secret, I’ve been 'round a time or two. Well, I don’t know, baby, maybe you been around, too. Well, there’s another dance, honey. All you gotta do is say yes, and if you’re rough and ready for love, honey, I’m tougher than the rest.

He closed his eyes against the rising voice inside his head. 

The voice grew louder still. 

A dull thud jarred through him as he dropped to his knees alongside the rushing river. 

The music swelled.

“Leave me in peace… Mahal…” he gritted, his hands pressing against his ears as if that would somehow block the sounds. 

It blocked nothing. It didn't even quiet them. Instead, the voice grew louder. 

Well, it ain’t no secret, I’ve been 'round a time or two. Well, I don’t know, baby, maybe you been around, too. Well, there’s another dance, honey. All you gotta do is say yes, and if you’re rough and ready for love, honey, I’m tougher than the rest.

Nausea swelled. Bile rose into the back of his throat. He gagged. He coughed.

The blackness came out of nowhere, roaring in his ears like that of Smaug the terrible just before he broke through Erebor’s front façade to torch Esgaroth to cinders. It filled his ears. It pressed into him from all sides. 

And with a final gulp, it swallowed him whole. 

Tag List: @mrsdurin @i-did-not-mean-to @fizzyxcustard @xxbyimm @kibleedibleedoo

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@myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @ruthoakenshield

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@heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @sazzlep @night-ace

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@sherala007 @enchantzz @albionscastle @absentmindeduniverse  

If you’d like to be added to (or removed from)the tag list, please just let me know!

Note: In the coming weeks, I will be cleaning up my tag list, so if you'd like to continue to be tagged, please let me know. Otherwise, I'll assume you're no longer interested in receiving these notifications and will take you off the list. Thanks!

[timethehobo]

Manfred when [fill in your own scenario].

[formulanni]

Parley!

Tag list: @st-leclerc @rubywingsracing @saviour-of-lord @three-days-time @the-wall-is-my-goal @albonoooo

(Please lmk if u don’t want to be tagged in my non f1 art!)

[zehl0w]

Zenitsu agatsuma has got to be the biggest egg I have ever seen in my entire life

[moog-enthusiast]

flower & basil baking with granny

[mothsartart]

happy disability wrath month. this has been sitting in my head for weeks now, and i finally was able to do something with it

[lepeltge]

Hopefully this uploads with good quality bc this was a BEHEMOTH of a piece (mainly bc I made my file size too big lol). Anyways, here’s my rendition of @nnnnnnnothingtoseehere ‘s pirate/mer ateez au!!! I REALLY enjoyed their fic and highly suggest it!!

Admittedly, I got a bit carried away with this and have wayyyy too many pirate pictures saved to Pinterest and my phone, but alas! I will never escape my love for historical clothing (with some anachronisms for aesthetics of course).

I thought way too long about colors and outfits, but it just goes to show you how in depth N’s writing is (thanks for the extra answered questions)! I kept on finding myself having so much fun thinking about the why behind the outfits lol.

Lastly, this is my first fanart in a while, and moreso, my first fanart of Ateez ever!!! I tried to do them justice but if you can’t tell who’s who, well… my bad 😅 Hope y’all enjoy bc I know I sure did!!

[seagull-scribbles]

By unpopular demand, 💕 Val

[satindregs]

Merlin s05e13 spoilers

“But here’s what no one says—when it’s your child, a part of you, a very tiny but nonetheless unignorable part of you, also feels relief. Because finally, the moment you have been expecting, been dreading, been preparing yourself for since the day you became a parent, has come.

Ah, you tell yourself, it’s arrived. Here it is.

And after that, you have nothing to fear again.”

So that quote is from Hanya Yanagihara’s A Little Life. It’s kinda self-explanatory, but I left out some context soo…

A father is talking abt mourning a kid and when they die you feel some relief bc the day you’ve dreaded since before they were born has finally come and it isn’t gonna happen twice (to the same kid lol.)

Now that we’re all on the same page, I just wanna mention something.

Merthur.

All throughout the show Merlin is told time and time again what he’s destined to do and how they’re counting on him to keep Arthur’s little butt on the throne and bring magic back to the land. Then surprise, surprise, the Once and Future King dies.

And yk obviously Merlin is… distraught. but do yall think j a tiny, tiny part of him just… relaxed?

Ik u have to make some jumps for this hc (?? ig?) to work but this is my post and i’ll do what i want. also ya they’re not father and son so… get to jumping

[periwenkle]

Save me MizuMafu save me

I <3 when pink/purple ships who understand each other’s issues a bit too perfectly share the same motif with different meanings

This was a gift for a friend and I couldn’t be prouder tbh

Process + dresses under the cut

Without effects + lineart only (because I’m rly proud of how it turned out tbh)

Sketch

And the dresses :]

[blue-rhapsody]

Minor spoilers for vol.8 of tgcf

He did not pass his perception check

[archersartcorner]

Just a fuckton variety of Skip n Norm doodles. *points* I like the sluge…