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peanutalergy · 11 days ago

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stray cat ꨄ s.r. × reader

in which spencer reid sneaks into fem!reader's room at night

tags: high school au !! no explicit content duh ? tooth rotting fluff in a brain rottingly terrible written way, reader is a cheerleader and like a popular girl ? idk I'm a sucker for the popular × nerd trope; not canon accurate obviously because if it were spencer would be twelve and bullied by everyone; mentions of blood and cuts and weapons and getting hurt but not in the way you might think ..?; reader's dad is mentioned ? yeah anyway idk what else sorry

w/c: 2k (this was meant to be a blurb ?)

a/n: okay so I found this draft from last year (back when I was still in hs (r.i.p.)) and I decided to finish it because it seemed cute. turned out terrible I hate it whatever, it's very ooc idk sorry ALSO inspired by a situation I lowkey went through myself hence why there's things spencer would never say/do, sorry

you’re sitting in bed with your computer atop your thighs, stressing over the third essay you have to finish by the weekend, when you hear a noise coming from outside. you ignore it, at first, thinking it's just a raccoon or a stray cat, until you hear a very human grunt from right beneath the window. immediately, you jump to grab the small—and frankly, quite useless—knife that you always keep in your bedside drawer in case of an intrusion or something of the sort.

you pull out your phone, contemplating dialing 911, until you see spencer's head pop up at the window. putting down the "weapon", you run across the room to open it, laughing confusedly as your boyfriend stumbles in. you help him inside, taking his hand in yours, which he holds onto like he might fall right now from right here.

you open your mouth, but he starts mumbling breathlessly before you even get the chance to say anything.

“i don't know what i was thinking, i’m never doing that again. i don't think just reading the stealthy guide to climbing roofs was enough, i mean, the writer didn't even take into consideration everything that could've went wrong. do you know how many terrible things could have happened? i could have fallen and broken my neck, someone could've seen me and called the police, or– doesn't your dad have a shotgun? do you think he heard me? god, i'm all dirty, i’ve got leaves all over me, i don't–”

you press a quick kiss to his lips, the most effective way you've found to shut him up. when you pull away, he's frozen, trying to catch his breath, cheeks rosy from the physical exercise–something he doesn't usually engage in–and from your touch, as well.

“what are you doing here?”

“sorry…” he mumbles, staring down at his fingers as they fidget with the sleeves of his cardigan, “i wanted to see you. did i wake you up?”

“oh, baby” you giggle, patting away the dirt and leaves from his body gently, “don't apologize, i'm glad you're here. i wasn't asleep, don't worry. you scared me, though. i thought someone was breaking in.”

“oh, i'm sorry, i didn't want to scare you, i’m really sorry. i should've called you.”

“no, don't worry. it's okay. it’s a nice surprise.”

“yeah…?” he asks, glancing up at you hesitantly.

“mhm.” you nod before taking his face in your hands. he tilts his head, leaning into your touch, similar to an animal who wants to be pet, but doesn’t know how to ask for it. you chuckle and give him another kiss, your fingers moving up and tangling in his hair.

“why did you go through the window, though? you could've just knocked on the door, my dad doesn't have a shotgun. he's a sweet little old man, he would've let you in just fine.”

“i don't know, i was scared. i'm sorry.” he says shyly. he's blushing furiously, heart almost jumping out of his ribcage, and it doesn't have anything to do with the adrenaline from the climb anymore.

“no, it's okay. you're fine, it's fine. are you hurt, though?”

“i- uh, i hurt my hands a bit, but it's nothing major, i’ll be fine.”

“aw, you poor thing. lemme see.” he looks down at his palms, and you take them in your hands to see they're all scraped, red and raw, blood mixing with some of the dirt. “jesus, spence. we should get that cleaned up, no?”

“no, no, it's fine. we– it's okay, we don't need to, i'll be fine.” he tries to pull his hands away, but your grip on his wrists doesn't let him, and he lets out a shaky exhale.

“hm, no, c'mon, that's gonna get infected or something. then your hands will get necrosis and fall off. do you want your hands to fall off, baby?”

he shakes his head, and you can tell he's holding back a chuckle, “well, that– that's not really how necrosis works, but–”

“no, it is, shut up.” you cut him off and give him a playful nudge, “please, just a few band-aids?”

he looks at you reluctantly, and after a second, he sighs and finally nods, “sure. but just because you're worried. i wouldn't get necrosis either way.”

you giggle and press your lips to his again. as you pull away and walk to the closet, you point to your bed and mumble, “go sit down,” which he does immediately, settling awkwardly at the edge of it.

while you search for the first aid kit, you notice spencer looking around your room with a smile. he's been here a few times before, but never at night, and he finds awe in the way the moonlight reflects off a mirrorball that sits on your desk, and the way your posters look when the only other source of lighting comes from a few vanilla scented candles.

it’s actually quite ironic how much you two fit together. no one would have to look at you twice before guessing your interests, and they'd be right if they were to say things like pop music and cheesy 2010s romcoms; but there's a side of you, a side only spencer reid has ever met, that matches him perfectly.

after a while, you walk back to the bed, little box in hands, and you sit down on the ground in front of him, looking up at him with a smile.

“please, don't sit on the floor.” he murmurs as you settle between his legs.

“why not? it's clean.” you mumble as you start rummaging through the first aid kit.

“no, but, you're– this is– just… it'll hurt your back.”

“it won't, though, don't worry.” you give him a smile, and before he can protest again, you put out your hands, “gimme.”

he gives you his wrists once more, where you hold as you begin gently wiping his palms with antiseptic. he winces at first, and tries to hold back a noise so as to not worry you even more.

“what were you thinking about?” you ask. he answers with a hm?, that makes you say it again, “when i got back. you looked like you were thinking about something.”

“oh, just… your room.”

“what about it?”

“it's so… you. i mean, the space in which one lives does tend to be a reflection of themselves, but… it's like you took everything that makes you yourself, and you spread it all around the place. it's adorable... like you.” he mumbles awkwardly.

you chuckle, looking around the room, glancing at him, then turning your attention back to his hands. this time, when the wipe touches his raw skin again, he hisses. “ooh, sorry, that hurt? i’m sorry, baby. i’m trying to be gentle, i swear.”

he shakes his head. “no, you're being gentle–” very gentle, more than anyone had ever been to him before, “–it's just the alcohol. it- uh… alcohol molecules activate the same nerve receptors in your skin that let you know hot is hot, so it burns. it's chemical. you're being very gentle, don't worry, it's not you.”

you hum, smiling and nodding, before you both go quiet. he's staring down at you as you work, brows furrowed as you concentrate on his hands. “y'know, i could've done this myself,” he mumbles.

“mm, yeah, well, we could do it all by ourselves. we'd be miserable, though, no?”

he's quiet for a second, thinking about a way to deny that, but when he can't find one, he just mutters a soft yeah and goes silent again.

scared of the situation getting too awkward, he starts rambling on about his day, telling you all things he believes you’d find interesting as you listen and nod and hum along and laugh. it's like he doesn't notice the words coming out of his mouth when they do, “i missed you at school today.”

“oh, i’m sorry, honey. i, uh– i wanted to talk to you at lunch, but, i– i wasn't sure you'd want to see me. i don't know, i didn't know if you'd want to be around the girls, and they wouldn't leave me alone, so... i didn't want to make you uncomfortable.” you say, looking at him between placing band-aids.

“of course i would've wanted to see you. yeah, your friends are… a lot. i think they don't really like me. but i don't mind being around them, if it means being around you.”

“no, they like you. don't worry about that, they like you."

“they sure have a strange way of showing it”

“yeah, well, they're– they look a bit, like, uhm… mean girls, but they're not. they're nice. they're just a bit... vain and shallow.”

“vain and shallow usually means mean girls.” he whispers with a chuckle.

“nah, not really. just means boring. to be fair, you're much cooler than them.” you answer with another laugh, to which he shakes his head in disbelief, right as you finish bandaging his hands.

you place two gentle kisses to his palms, which you can notice makes his breath hitch a little, and you put the kit to the side. you shuffle closer to him and tilt your head, resting it on his knee and smiling up at him, “i missed you, too.”

he nods and tucks a strand of your hair behind an ear, his touch lingering at your jaw. there's another moment of quiet, in which you just stare at each other, grinning. he looks at you and touches you almost as if you're not real, almost as if he's convinced this isn't actually happening.

he can't help but be fascinated by the intimacy of this moment. a few months ago, he had never even been looked at for more than a few seconds, and now he's doing staring contests with the captain of the cheerleading team, in her room, at night.

sure, the people at school still see him as a loser, but that doesn't matter to him. all he cares about is you. you're here, holding and taking care of him, looking at him like he's worth something. that's all that matters right now.

“hi.” you break the silence, though barely, your voice a quiet whisper.

“hi.” he whispers back with a smile, “please, will you get up from the floor…?”

you chuckle and stand up again, him being sat allowing you to press a kiss on his forehead while your fingers run through his hair. when you do so, he wraps his arms around your legs and burrows his face into your stomach, letting out a noise, almost a purr as he nuzzles against you like a kitten.

after a while, he pulls his head away to look around the room again, and his gaze falls on the laptop that had been sitting in your bed this whole time, the essay abandoned. "when is that due?"

"history class on friday."

"i could help you with it, if you want."

"no, no, no, you don't have to. don't worry. i'll get it done... sometime." you say with a chuckle.

he nods–he woke up the next morning and finished it for you while you got ready–and hides his face back in your shirt.

“are you sleeping over?” you ask, and it makes him lift up his head to look at you once more.

“can i?” he mutters reluctantly, “i don't want your parents to wake up, and see– y'know… a boy in your bed. and we've got school tomorrow, so…”

“do you want to sleep over?”

“mhm” he hums with a nod, his fingers absentmindedly playing with the hem of your shirt.

“my parents won't mind, then.”

“are you sure? i mean, teenagers are–” he starts rambling again, and you shut him up with another kiss.

“my parents won't mind.” you repeat after pulling away, leaving another peck on his nose, “and we can just skip school tomorrow. it’s gonna be boring, anyway. we don't even have any classes together. we can spend the whole day here, yeah?”

“okay, yeah.” he mumbles under his breath, trying not to look too nervous.

you smile and lie down on the bed. he immediately follows suit and curls up next to you, face buried in your chest, arms around your waist, leaning into your touch and clinging to you like you'll be gone if he lets go. “i love you,” he whispers, his warm breath against your skin sending tingles down your spine.

“i love you” you whisper back, placing yet another kiss on the crown of his head. it's not long after you start running your hands through his hair that he falls asleep.

and in the end, you realize that, in a sense, it actually was a stray cat at your window.

#fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #fluff #high school au #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds fanfic #love u #🐁

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wannaeatramyeon · 6 months ago

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Meeting Student!Gun Park for the First Time: Part 1

Part 2! G/N. 3.2k. Remember when Gun wanted to get his GED? Well. Stranger to~ Masterlists

"How old are you?"

"20."

Press X for doubt, you think, and that's the exact meme you send over on chat.

"20 like 20 or 20 like you're mid 30s and planning your mid life crisis 20?"

You know you're being rude and making a terrible first impression. It's the first day of a new school year, of a new school in fact, and for some reason the class is held on video call and you're all forced to pair off with a classmate for an icebreaker introduction.

It’s already cringe worthy and awkward enough, icebreakers must have been created as a form of torture. To add insult to injury, you're sure this guy is bullshitting you.

"I'm 20." He deadpans.

Momentarily, you’re stunned into silence. It stretches almost a tad too long before you manage to choke out, “My bad. Sorry."

Wow. You're torn between thinking that's a rough 20, this guy has easily got 40 years under his belt and oh no, when is your puberty and hormones gonna kick in like that.

And that's also the exact moment this 20 year old Gun Park takes a drag on a cigarette and you decide that it's definitely a rough 20.

"So what do you do for fun?" You probe, and you have the distinct feeling he might say something like alimony, planning his third marriage, investing in the stock market - whatever someone in their 50s might say but-

To your surprise and glee, his body language turns shifty.

He likes to game he says, like it's a dirty little secret. Amongst other things. Mentions something about training and martial arts and you fight to keep a straight face as it turns out you were also right about investing in shares and the stock market.

Gaming, however, is what you latch on to.

"Cute. I bet I could kick your ass."

"Oh yeah?"

"Oh yes."

And this is how you ended up at 4am on a school night, playing Tekken with your new classmate and getting your ass kicked.

"One more!" You screech down the mic, after the KO sign appears on screen, mumbling something about cheating and how if you can time this combo just right-

There's a huff of laughter coming through your tinny headphones and an amused "Fine."

Dark circles under your eyes grow. It's been a week of straight losses.

You blame the sleep deprivation on Gun Park, though really you have your own stubbornness to blame.

He never tends to say much during the gaming sessions apart from the odd expletive and you rant enough after each of your defeats for the both of you.

Sometimes this will earn you a chuckle and he will snidely add that you asked for this, you were the one who was supposed to kick his ass. This would piss you off enough for another game or three in the hopes of defeating him and getting to gloat.

Which unfortunately has not happened yet.

With a sigh, you hope your camera quality this morning is bad enough and pixelated enough that your poor sleep habits don't show.

You scan over your classmates, the few that have their camera turned on and find him.

Gun looks completely fine. He looks completely fine in what must be 4k and ugh, you scrunch your nose up in annoyance.

You keep an eye on him through the class. Observe how he's usually paying rapt attention, scribbling and typing up notes every now and then.

It's impressive how studious he is.

In comparison, you're daydreaming. Thinking about lunch, other combos or characters to play to counter his own when you catch on to the back end of a sentence as your teacher mentions ‘this’ is something to pay attention to as it will be on the pop quiz.

Huh? You blink a couple times. What is ‘this’? Unfortunately she swiftly moves onto another topic.

You type out a direct message to the only person you know.

You: I missed that, what did she just say?

Gun: You should have been paying attention.

You: Fuck you man!

You see his eyes dip to the bottom of the camera screen, briefly moving as he presumably reads your message.

He smirks.

That night he kicks your ass again.

Then as consolation, reveals what will be on the pop quiz.

If Gun looked like that in 4k, nothing could prepare you for how he looked in real life.

You're setting up your laptop and notepad in the classroom, the first actual in-person session, when someone takes a seat next to you.

Initially you feel a surge of irritation that they could have sat anywhere else and chose to sit next to you, then you look at the offender and-

Hold on.

You double, triple-take-

Is that?

It must be.

Shit.

It's fucking Gun Park.

You don't entirely regret your initial comments on his looks because this guy definitely does not look 20 but goddamn he looks-

He chooses that moment, when your jaw is on the floor, to turn to you and give you a nod of acknowledgement.

"Y/N."

"H-hi." You manage, and even to your ears it sounds like a simpering fool.

He must have thought so too if the quirk of his lips is anything to go by.

The cherry on top is that you expected this guy to smell like stale smoke, instead all you get is fresh laundry and something faintly dark and heady like leather and cedarwood.

Fuck.

Control yourself, a disapproving voice in your head says. Even that sounds vaguely like Gun.

It does nothing to stop your wandering gaze, peering at him in your periphery when you think he's not looking.

After you have taken your chance to not so discreetly run your eyes up and down his form, the only thing that makes you feel better is his hair. Because yeah he might be hot, but holy shit that must be a gallon of hair gel in there.

The other thing, as it turns out, that makes you feel a lot better is that he doodles.

It’s utterly charming.

Someone like Gun Park doesn't look like he doodles, but in between lines of his chicken scratch (seriously, who can even read that), there's little stick figures.

Maybe all the time you thought he was being studious he was just drawing-

Wait. You squint at the picture.

Is this guy for real?

"Are they fucking?" You whisper, using your pen to point at the page.

He doesn't answer straight away. There's a moment of surprise as he reacts like this is another secret of his he has unwittingly let you in on before his nostril flares and his eyes narrow and you grin in response.

Your grin grows when he grits out an answer. "No. Fighting."

He doesn't call you a dumbass but you can hear it loud and clear tacked on at the end.

"Whatever, pervert." You counter. You guess if you squint even harder then you suppose they could be fighting. Although the way one is lying on top of another is very suggestive. You don't hesitate to point that out to him.

Gun closes his eyes and counts to ten.

Even without a seating plan, one forms.

Places taken by chance on the first day becomes a regular arrangement.

You exchange a few words with your classmates, familiarise yourself somewhat with their names and faces. Pieces of their backstory, why they're here studying for a GED but take your spot next to Gun regardless.

No one really talks to him, you've heard them saying he's menacing and intimidating. Yet when your first encounter of him was mistaking him as someone about to hit mid life crisis, how intimidating can he really be.

Besides, he still doodles his lewd figures that he insists are not in any way shape or form comprising sexual positions. So no, you don't find him intimidating at all.

Gun, as you have come to know, is a man of few words. He is also unsurprisingly not great at literature.

What you don't yet know is he likes to say what he means and mean what he says. His patience only extends to The Art of War, so all the flowery prose and poetry only serves to irritate him.

If Gun glared at you the way he's currently glaring at the textbook, you think you may either burst into tears or burst into flames.

Luckily you do neither of those things but you do take pity on him. Leaning over, you ask him quietly if he needs help.

He doesn't respond but the pen he's clutching in his right hand snaps in half.

Alright then.

Half an hour later, when the class empties out you ask Gun to follow you to the library.

He hesitates, and you add "if you've got time" to give him an out. In the end he doesn't take it and trudges obediently after you.

You very quickly learn that he really doesn't like literature. You're explaining and working him through the analysis and also mildly offended at the bored look on his face.

"This is a waste of time," he interjects and there's a sullen undercurrent to his words.

"Just memorise the analysis then." Exasperation tinges your tone, "That's all you need to do to pass."

He arches a brow at your words.

"They're testing your memory. So just remember what our teacher says."

There's an angry air of resignation as Gun nods, and you slide your notes over for him to copy.

Not long after, you have your first minor evaluation on the literature material.

You notice during the test that while the vein in Gun’s temple is prominent and he’s clutching his (new) pen tighter, there’s barely any pause as he fills in the answers.

A few days later, the graded papers are handed back. There's a sigh of relief from Gun.

He gives you a smile, small and genuine, eyes crinkling at the corner.

"You owe me one," you tell him jokingly though he takes it to heart and gives you a stern nod.

Gun repays his debt, with a coffee.

He places the paper cup on the desk in front of you. Logo of the coffee house to the side but still visible. It's new, expensive, and there’s regular lines around the block.

Of course it would be from there.

The issue is, who repays a debt with an espresso. He didn’t even ask for your drink of choice!

"Thanks for this thimble of coffee," you remark as Gun sniffs in distaste at your comment, placing his own matching cup in front of him and saying something about how it's the best untainted way to drink it.

Of course he would also be a coffee snob.

You tell him you usually like it with a bit more cream and a lot more sugar and he mutters that you sound like Goo.

You think that's an insult.

"Well, at least Goo has good taste," you snipe back with a grin.

Gun closes his eyes and counts to ten.

You: Are you doodling or actually writing notes?

You: Cos on camera you look very studious but I’ve seen your notepad

Gun: None of your business

You: Still drawing your disgusting pornographic stick men then

Gun: They are not-

Gun: Whatever

You: Ok, maybe that espresso wasn’t terrible

Gun: I know

You: Who’s Goo anyway?

Gun: …

Gun: No-one

You: Suuuure

You: Tekken tonight?

Gun: Aren’t you tired of getting your ass kicked?

You: >:(

You: Do you wanna go over the new lit material in the library this week?

Gun: Ok

Gun: Thanks for your help

You: :)

Gun: You’re tired. You should game less.

You: Spoken like a coward!

Gun: Dumbass

You: Hey!!

Gun: I’ll bring you an espresso tomorrow. You need it.

You: Does it have to be an espresso?

Gun: Yes

You: …Thanks

To anyone else, the figure standing in the doorway is just smoking. To you, it suspiciously looks like they’re waiting.

It's not a crime. Gun Park can wait for whatever or whoever he wants.

What really throws you off is his smoking. You've seen him casually take one single drag before throwing the whole cigarette away. Even to you, it seems like a waste.

However, this time he smokes one all the way to the filter before stubbing it out. Then does the same to a second, and third.

Strange, very strange.

You approach him. Taking gentle steps, in case he might get spooked and bolt which is really a ridiculous notion for someone like him. Nevertheless, you keep your footsteps light, yourself clearly in view and you wander over to him.

"Hey," you say, with a somewhat forced smile. He doesn't acknowledge your greeting apart from a brief nod.

"... Everything ok?"

It's a perfectly normal question to ask but a vastly bizarre one for Gun. He doesn't look like the type of person where people casually enquire about his well being.

He must have thought so too if the look he gives you is anything to go by.

In response, he stubs out his cigarette (his fourth!) then asks, stilted and stiffly, if you want to come back to his for a game of Tekken.

At least that's what you interpret as he seems to be crazy cryptic.

"Are you interested in Tekken?"

"...Yes." You wonder what on earth this question is because did you hallucinate all those games you played together?

"Then meet me. After class."

"Where? Here?"

"No. At mine."

"Where's that?"

"..."

He gives you another look, as if you're the one trying to coax a secret out of him despite him offering.

Gun dips forward, murmurs quietly into your ear his address and some vague directions like it's highly confidential information.

You nod along, thinking what is with this guy.

So firstly, what the fuck.

Then secondly, what the fuck.

Don't think you hadn't noticed the designer brands Gun wears. If they're fakes, they're very convincing fakes. But you're almost certain they have got to be counterfeit when he brought you over to a junkyard claiming this is where he lives.

You've seen films like this. Granted, it's less in a junkyard and more in the middle of nowhere in America where college kids meet their gruesome ends in fantastical ways.

You never thought this would happen to you. You have sorely miscalculated.

Is this Gun Park (if that even is his real name) going to butcher you and leave your body on top of a pile of scrap metal in the corner?

Instead of a night of gaming where you’re the one KO-ing him, he’s actually the one that’s going to chase you around wearing a mask and wielding a knife or axe?

"You’re here. Come in," Gun says, opening his front door just as your inner monologue begins to truly spiral out of control and you're considering doing a runner.

"Eh?" You grunt like an idiot, not noticing when the shack appeared nor when you stepped onto his porch, or the side eyes Gun had been giving you.

He gives you another look, likely regretting inviting you at all, and leaves the door ajar for you to either enter or turn back and go home.

"This is... nice," you lie, through the skin of your teeth.

Gun sees cleanly through your white lie and exhales a huff of amusement.

It's sparse. Peeks of luxury here and there - the extensive PC gaming rig, the entertainment system and consoles, to name a few.

Apart from that, it's barely a home.

"Take a seat." He offers, and it sounds more like an order. Obediently you sit on his sofa, feeling very much a guest.

"You're not in danger," he says, bemused at how awkward you are in his domain, how tense you hold yourself.

'That's exactly what a killer would say,' you think and when you hear a low chuckle, you realise that you said it aloud.

"Don't worry," Gun reassures and it doesn’t really help before he strides off to somewhere in his house and leaves you sitting alone.

He returns back minutes later as you’re in the middle of admiring his entertainment set up and going through his vinyl collection (because obviously someone like Gun has vinyls) with a coffee for you that looks much more milky and to your taste than the usual ones he offers.

“Thanks.” you take your drink and return back to your seat.

Taking the first sip, you finally manage to relax. Sinking into a sofa that is much more comfortable than at first glance and you take in your surroundings a bit more.

Sort of. You actually take in Gun Park more.

He’s casual, in a way you have never seen or even considered. Dressed in a t-shirt and grey sweatpants, hair floppy and the only styling is done with his hands running through his hair now and then to keep it back.

Even during the online classes, he is usually dressed up in an open collared shirt.

If you thought he was hot before, it’s nothing compared to now. There’s an air of domesticity, the drink he made for you cradled in your hands, and the distinct feeling that not many people have had the luxury to see Gun in his natural habitat, so intimate and vulnerable.

You wonder if this is how he looks all those nights you’ve been gaming together.

You catch his eyes, having been caught checking him out and he raises his eyebrows at your blatant staring.

Blood rushes to your cheeks as he chuckles into his own espresso and takes a sip.

"Holy shit, I won!"

You're familiar with the KO screen. What you're not familiar with is being on the side of victory. You're usually a hair trigger away from rage quitting, from throwing a tantrum down the mic.

Finally. All your hard work has paid off. Time spent thinking of combos, attacks and defences (which would have been better spent studying) is coming to fruition.

You peer over to Gun, expect the controller he is clutching to maybe have been crushed into pieces with his freakish strength. Expected nothing except for a vein throbbing on his temple.

What you do find is-

Gun looking at you, fondness in his eyes. He's taking in your grin, letting your gloating slide.

Doesn't do more than roll his eyes when you perform a victory dance of sorts around him.

And when you get in his face to tell him that you're the winner, you're the best-

(More words are on the tip of your tongue but your gaze drops to his lip, drawn to the small smile he wears.

It sinks in.

The patience he has, the attention he gives, the way he has opened his home to you.

From the very first meeting, the even-handed way he has dealt with your insults, entertained you to the early hours of the morning on Tekken.)

Gun reaches out, tugs your hand and pulls you into his lap and agrees.

"Yes. The best."

You think it's a lie, an embellishment.

But the way he holds you - tender and precious, and the way he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours - soft, like you might break - can't be anything else but the whole truth.

(Update! Part 2 here!)

#lookism #lookism x reader #gun park #gun park x reader #park jonggun x reader #park jonggun #wannaeatramyeon

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heli-writes · 23 days ago

Text

A dragon's heart, part 16.

Pairing: Barbarian!Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader

Summary: The dragonblood tribe is known for being cruel, barbarian warriors that slaughter, loot and rape all places they pass through. They are feared among the villagers and even bigger cities. Having lost most of their women to a plague, they're trying to ensure their tribe's survival by kidnapping women from other places. However, they're not the only monsters in human form out there. When y/n experiences this first hand, she has no choice but to ask for help from no other but the barbarian leader Katsuki Bakugou himself.

Disclaimer: trust issues, implications to abuse

[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]

Note: Two chapters in a month? Say what. I know, I'm surprised myself. Blame it on a national holiday.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16

Series Masterlist

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Part 16

Y/n doesn't want to admit it, but she enjoys Katsuki's absence.

It's been three days and she has had more company than the entire time she's been with Katsuki. At least, if you don't count the several visits by the healers, that is. Mitsuki is still hostile toward her, but she doesn't leave y/n up to her own devices which y/n appreciates. Moreover, the two women she helped with the knives, have taken an interest in her. It seems as if they've noticed that y/n can be quite useful for a variety of tasks and thus give her chores upon chores. A lot of them revolve around creating weapons or taking care of weapons which y/n does not appreciate that much.

On the last day, y/n spent wrapping arrowheads to shafts. During the day, the skin on her fingers is ripped open in different places which is quite painful. However, y/n doesn't want to look like a wimp in front of the older women and works through the pain. Also, she enjoys the women's company and doesn't want to be sent away because she can't get the job right. She's afraid they'll send her back to Mitsuki.

Nevertheless, she must've done an okay job since her arrows pass inspection by Mitsuki (again). She tries to hide her hands from the blonde woman, but Mitsuki catches on anyway. She says something to the older women who then inspect y/n's wounds and put a slave and bandages on them.

The evenings she spends mostly alone in Katsuki's tent. The other women invited her for dinner around a bonfire, but y/n retreats to the tent rather quickly since the mountains are cold once the sun disappears behind their peaks. Being used to Katsuki's company, the evenings are terribly boring. Eventually, y/n occupies her time by carving game pieces out of wood. She hoped that maybe she could teach Katsuki the game when he returned. She's too shy to ask the women for that.

The next morning, y/n is picked up by the old woman with whom she mended clothes with. The woman animatedly tells her something that y/n doesn't get and leads her to a stone hut she hasn't seen before. Y/n swallows hard. Was I demoted because of my hands?, y/n wonders as the woman pushes her inside the tent.

Inside, an old bearded man stands by a forge and hammers onto metal. The old woman loudly announces their arrival and the smith lowers his hammers. He listens to the woman's rambles while looking y/n up and down. Y/n feels like she's shrinking under his gaze. Why did she bring me to a smith?, y/n wonders. The smith barely says anything and just grumbles as a response to the older woman.

After the woman takes her leave, the smith waves y/n over and shows y/n a couple of knives and some arrows. For a moment, y/n doesn't understand why he's showing them to her until she realizes that those are her work. She sharpened those knives and made those arrows. Looking at the smith and points at the weapons and then at her. “Yes, I did that.”, she tells him while nodding. The smith nods and waves her over to the forge. He doesn't actually believe that I can make weapons, y/n thinks.

Turns out, he doesn't but he makes y/n help him. Apparently, he is working on making a sword. He makes y/n hold the metal piece down while he hammers it into shape. When the forge cools down, y/n has to bring new firewood and it's her task to make sure that the forge doesn't cool down. He even lets her try hammering on some metal but quickly takes over again. I bet I don't have the strength to hammer metal into shape, y/n thinks.

By midday, y/n's exhausted and ash and grime stuck to her sweaty skin. She's glad when the smith waves her outside the hut for some lunch. It's only then that y/n notices how absolutely famished she is. Together, they eat a hearty meal of brown bread and thick slices of cheese and ham. Y/n thinks it's the most delicious meal she's had since she arrived here. Maybe it's because it reminds her of the rustic meals her family used to eat. Or, more likely, she's just that hungry considering that she hasn't done that demanding physical work in quite a while. Either way, she enjoys the meal she shares with the smith. Mostly, because the smith doesn't talk much. She's sure that it's not because he knows she doesn't understand him but it's simply because he doesn't talk much at all. She feels a lot more comfortable around him than around the women who keep talking around her until her head swims.

When she's done with her meal, the smith gives her a cup of tea and they sit in the sun for a little while. To occupy herself, y/n takes out her game pieces and a knife. Her set is complete, but the wood still feels rough. She tries to smooth them with the edge of the knife but she just keeps cutting notches into it. Frustrated she lowers the knife. Only then, she notices the smith watching her while sipping his tea.

Y/n can feel her cheeks heat. He must think I'm incapable of simple handiwork, y/n thinks.

Suddenly, the smith gets up and enters the hut again. Y/n hears him rummaging inside. When he comes out again, he hands her some sandpaper. Y/n's heart skips a beat. How nice of him!, she thinks and beams up at the smith. Immediately, she gets to work and starts smoothing the wood of her game pieces. When the smith finishes his tea, he waves her back inside and the two of them go back to work.

At the end of the day, y/n is absolutely spent. Nevertheless, she feels pretty good. The smith patted her on the head when he let her go for the day and y/n felt like she did a good job. She joins the other women for dinner around the bonfire and they laugh at y/n's ash-covered face. Y/n takes no offense in it as they also pat her on the back and shove some stew into her hands.

As she eats, she looks around the bonfire. Nadia is nowhere to be seen. She hoped to see her and start a conversation, but it was no luck. However, she did see some women take off with some bowls with stew in the direction of multiple living tents. I wonder if more women like Nadia live inside those tents, y/n wonders. But why am I the only one around the bonfire? And working?

After dinner, y/n waves the women goodbye to retreat to her tent for a well-deserved bath. After her bath, y/n sits on the bed working on her game pieces. Carefully, she runs the sandpaper over each piece smoothing the edges and softening their surface until they're nice to the touch. It's rather late when she's finished and slides underneath the covers. Shivering, she wraps her arms around herself.

It's rather cold without Katsuki, she decides as she's drifting to sleep.

~*~*~*~

Y/n's up early the next morning. She wanted to do some laundry before someone came to pick her up for work. She's glad that the wounds on her hands are healing rather quickly. She's standing outside hanging up her washing when the smith approaches her tent. She smiles at him and waves.

Guess, I'm up for another day at the forge, y/n thinks. Not that she minds, y/n actually likes working with the old smith. Maybe I have a thing for grumpy men?, she wonders as she follows the smith to his forge.

The day passes as the one before. She helps out the smith with a variety of tasks. While the smith does not make her hammer onto some metal again, he does make her blow into a large pipe. However, they both quickly give that up. I've got neither the strength nor the lung capacity for being a smith, I guess, y/n decides. It doesn't really matter to her since she's completely fine with playing the assistant.

After lunch, she hands back the sandpaper and the smith points towards the sachet in which she keeps her game pieces. Y/n takes them out to show him. The smith inspects them by turning them over in his hand and feeling the edges. He nods approvingly and hands them back. He asks y/n something she doesn't understand. Maybe he's asking what they're for?, she wonders.

Y/n draws the pattern of the game board into the dirt with a stick and sets up the game pieces. The game's rather easy to explain since the all game pieces can only do the same steps on the board. It doesn't take long for the smith to understand the rules of it and they play for a while until y/n beats the smith. With furrowed brows, the smith gets back to work and y/n follows him.

After the day's work is done, the smith demands another game which y/n is happy to comply. She's glad that someone is willing to play it with her. The game is rather simple: You win when you occupy the most places on the board which means you have to plan multiple steps ahead.

Y/n loved playing with her dad even though he beat her almost every time. Therefore, it's even more fun that she keeps on beating the smith. They keep on playing until someone calls them over for dinner around the bonfire.

~*~*~*~

Two more days pass and y/n continues to work with the smith. She's rather glad that Mitsuki seems to have lost interest in her and leaves her alone instead of handing her around people and inspecting her work. The work with the smith doesn't get boring since he makes not only weapons but household goods as well. He shows her how to make metal spoons which y/n takes up rather easily since it consists of hammering only a thin metal stripe into place and then carving and smoothing the surface with sandpaper. It's a process y/n already knows since her mother and she used to make lots of wooden spoons that they sold in the villages they passed through. The smith seems to approve of her results and she's allowed to keep the first spoon she made. During the lunch breaks, the smith and her keep playing with y/n game pieces and the smith even manages to win once or twice.

~*~*~*~

The air starts to get cooler as it rushes through Katsuki's ears. It's an unpleasant feeling but Katsuki embraces it nonetheless. It means home is getting close. He's even more glad when he sees the familiar mountain chain ahead of them. Kirishima on his golden dragon flies a head and does a somersault whoopingly. The men behind him cheer loudly.

They're all glad to get home. The raid was successful even though they ran into complications with some Todoroki soldiers. However, they faced no losses as Katsuki and Kirishima fought ferociously side by side leading them to victory.

“Yo, Kirishima, knock it off! You're about to lose our precious cargo!”, Katsuki howls through the wind but Kirishima only laughs as he falls behind his chief again.

While the village they raided was evacuated by the king's soldiers, there still was enough gold and goods to appease his men. Even better, in Katsuki's opinion, is that they managed to capture one of Todoroki's men alive. It's about time to squeeze out of this dirtbag what's really going on in the kingdom, Katsuki thinks.

“Ey, Katsuki, what do you think y/n will think when she sees all the goodies you brought for her?”, Denki teases at his side. “Ya think, she'll drop her panties for ya?”, the blonde laughs.

Katsuki glares at him and swivels Drami into Denki's dragon's path. The dragon yelps and quickly maneuvers out of the larger red dragon's way but Denki only laughs in response.

Of course, I wonder what she'll do when we see each other again, Katsuki thinks. He hopes his mother didn't take it too hard on y/n while he was gone. Part of him also wonders if y/n missed him in his absence.

~*~*~*~

Upon landing, a large crowd of people gathered to greet their warriors. Mothers and fathers hug their sons upon arrival. Even Kirishima's mate showed up which is a rare occasion. It sends Kirishima over the moon.

Katsuki scans the crowd for y/n but fails to find her.

“Son.”, his mother calls out to him. Katuski eyes her suspiciously.

“Where's y/n?”, Katsuki asks sharply. Mitsuki gives him a cool look before answering.

“I don't know. Haven't seen her in a few days, actually. The other women say that she's been dining at the bonfire every evening so I wouldn't be too worried about her.”, Mitsuki tells him.

Katsuki is relieved but still suspicious. “Any idea where she could be at?”, he asks.

Mitsuki shrugs. “Probably with the smith. She's been helping him out.”, she tells him.

Katsuki immediately sees red. “Working at the forge? How did that happen, mother? That's no place for a woman!”, he yells.

Mitsuki gives him a sharp look. “Who are you, a man, to determine what a woman can or cannot do? I heard she's rather good with forging and taking care of weapons. Maybe she is good for something after all.”, she replies.

Katsuki feels like ripping his mother to shreds. “It's your doing, I know it.”, he hisses, “Sending her to the forge, giving her such hard, dangerous work. You're punishing her for becoming my mate.”

“Do you really dare to accuse me of such a thing?”, Mitsuki hisses back, “Y/n is the mate of our chief, therefore she needs to pull her weight. She can't relax in the tent like the other women you brought here do. She needs to show her face when you're gone. After all, she's supposed to be the leader when you're not here.”

Katsuki's quiet at that. Of course his mother is right about that, but Katsuki is sure that y/n isn't ready for that.

“Moreover, isn't the smith one of our most honorable craftsmen?”, his mother adds and Katsuki bites his tongue.

“I rather hope so!”, a voice behind them says. It's Testutetsu, the smith's son.

“Is it true your mate picked up the role of my father's assistant?”, Tetsutetsu asks, “In that case, I owe her a thank you. After all, she picked up my work.”

Katsuki grinds his teeth. “I guess so.”, he replies. Tetsutetsu joined his men for the raid, but Katsuki knows the man would rather stay behind helping at the forge. Unfortunately for him, Tetsutetsu is one of the tribe's strongest warriors and therefore indispensable for such raids.

“Let's go and see if she's at the forge.”, Tetsutetsu proposes and Katsuki follows him after giving his mother a last, dirty glance.

~*~*~*~

“I'm surprised my father let her stay at the forge. He's rather picky with whom he works. There are days that he can't even stand me around the forge. Says that I talk too much and he can't focus.”, Tetsutetsu chats as they walk towards his family's workshop.

Katsuki huffs. “I guess he won't have a problem like that with y/n. She can't speak our language and therefore often doesn't speak at all.”, he grumbles. Tetsutetsu gives him a glance.

“Yeah, that must be weird. Can't imagine being mated to someone who doesn't understand me. How do you two even communicate?”, he asks.

“Barely.”, Katsuki says truthfully.

As they march up towards the stone hut that is the Tetsutetsu workshop, they see two figures sitting infront of the workshop on the ground.

“Father!”, Tetsutetsu calls out, “We're back!”

His father waves at him dismissively as the two younger men approach. Katsuki notices the game pieces on the ground. Y/n makes a move and the smith throws his hands into the air.

“She keeps beating me!”, the smith exclaims in a deep, gruff voice. Y/n beams up at him triumphantly.

The two men come to a stop infront of them and y/n notices them for the first time. Upon seeing Katsuki, she only smiles slightly and waves at him. It's not the welcome I hoped for, but at least she's happy to see me, Katsuki thinks.

“What'ya two playing?”, Tetsutetsu asks and crouches down before them.

“It's the girl's game.”, the smith says, “The rules are simple but the girl's hard to beat. She's got a smart head on her shoulders, I've got to give her that.”

“How does it work?”, Katsuki asks and sits down next to the smith.

“She's your mate. Let her show you.”, the smith says getting up to greet his son.

Y/n tries to put the game pieces away thinking that Katsuki has come to collect her, but Katsuki stops her and points at the board. Y/n is quick to understand and sets up the board again. She shows him how the pieces move and Katsuki is quick to take up the rules. They start a game while Tetsutetsu and his father watch.

As they keep moving the pieces around, the furrow in y/n's brow deepens.

“You almost got her, chief.”, the smith mumbles and Katsuki moves another piece. Y/n stares at the board for a long time. She tries to move multiple pieces before giving up. She looks at Katsuki and shrugs. The smith laughs.

“Seems like she's got some serious competition!”, he tells Katsuki and Tetsutetsu gives his father an amused look.

“You're in a good mood, dad.”, he says. The smith only shrugs. “The girl's been some fresh air around here.”, he simply replies. Tetsutetsu laughs.

“Oh my, I feel like I'm getting replaced here!”, he exclaims. His father shakes his head, “Well, you might be. Considering that the girl's actually good at executing orders instead of lounging around by the fire.”

Meanwhile, y/n packs her game pieces back into her sachet and gets up. Katsuki gets up as well.

“We'll be off then.”, he tells the Tetsutetsus. The old smith nods. “Alright then, y/n's welcome back anytime. Maybe she can even teach my son some work ethics.”, he replies at which Tetsutetsu only rolls his eyes. Katsuki walks on ahead and y/n waves at the smith smiling brightly before running after Katsuki.

“What a nice young lady.”, the smith tells his son, “I think our chief made a good choice there.”

~*~*~*~

Katsuki and y/n walk back to their tent in silence. Now that she's alone with Katsuki again, y/n doesn't know how to act. Nevertheless, she's happy that he played the game with her. Maybe he'll play again with me tonight, she thinks.

When they arrive at their tent, there are multiple men carrying wooden boxes into the tent. They greet their chief respectfully despite the blonde y/n has seen before who wiggles his eyebrows at Katsuki who only snorts in return. They enter the tent and y/n looks at the boxes with furrowed brows. Katsuki enters behind her and gently touches the side of her arm and gestures for her to walk to one of the boxes. With a knife, he yanks the box open. He rummages through the box and pulls out a beautiful dark green dress. Golden leaves and tendrils were stitched into both sides of the dress. The best part of it, however, was the long sleeves which is something all the dresses Katsuki brought her so far lacked. Katsuki holds the dress out to y/n who hesitantly takes it. Katsuki watches her expectantly as she inspects the dress and holds it against her own body to see if it fits her. When she looks up and meets Katsuki's eyes, she softly smiles at him.

Katsuki gestures to y/n to go through the box and take what she wants. Hesitantly, y/n walks to the box and peeks into it. Katsuki watches her for a moment as she looks through the contents of the box before turning around. I really deserve a bath, he thinks and leaves y/n to her own devices.

Meanwhile, y/n gets bolder in looking through the box. She finds more clothes that clearly originate from the Todoroki kingdom judging by the designs. They're winter clothes with long sleeves, lined interior fabric and fur overcoats. Y/n smiles as she runs her fingers over the soft, warm fabrics. He must've chosen them for me, she thinks.

Y/n takes the liberty to look at some of the other boxes. She finds a hairbrush, thick socks, books in her language, paper and all sorts of other trinkets. She also finds an expensive-looking flancon of perfume which she can't help and spray on her neck. A modest, flowery scent wavers through the air. Y/n thinks she never smelled anything that nice.

Suddenly, Katsuki enters the tent again. He's only wearing his linen pants and walks towards the closet to get some fresh clothes before hopping into the bath. When he passes y/n, he stops and sniffs the air. He looks at the flacon in y/n's hand and then sniffs the skin on her neck. He grunts and his nose wrinkles in disgust. What the fuck is this shit?, he thinks to himself. The perfume smells absolutely disgusting to him. Why would she cover up her scent like that? Is she planning to walk into enemy territory undetected?, he ponders. Meanwhile, y/n's cheek heat in embarrassment. Clearly, he thinks it stinks, y/n decides.

“That stuff needs to go. No woman of mine should smell so horrendous.”, Katsuki decides loudly and takes away the flacon. Y/n purses her lips at that but doesn't stop him. When he turns back around to her with a mischievous gleam in his eyes, y/n feels like he's about to do something bad.

Katsuki then lunges forward and grabs her by the wrist. He heaves her over his shoulders and marches into the bath hut with her. He sets her down at the entrance of the bathing hut. Y/n's heart thunders. She really doesn't like it when Katsuki shows her just how superior he is to her when it comes to physical strength.

Katsuki moves to the bathtub and takes off the rest of his clothes. Y/n watches his very naked, and very muscular, backside. She's getting embarrassed and tries not to stare at him. It's not like she's embarrassed by his nakedness (clearly she's used to it now), but considering her last naked experience with him (no, not the one where he kept walking around their tent fully naked), she expected to be more repulsed by him. Instead, she finds her gaze wandering and heat rising in places where it really shouldn't. Without noticing, her hand flies to the scar on her neck.

Katsuki notices her stares and gives her a complacent smirk. Then, he throws a sponge at her and points at his back. “Your man just came back from war, you should treat him a bit.”, he tells her.

Y/n is taken aback by it, but eventually complies and washes his back. Katsuki leans forward in the tub so that y/n can reach his back better. Y/n can't help but trace the muscles on his back. It's only then that she notices the many scares that adorn Katsuki's back. When she's done with his back, Katsuki leans back and gives her access to his chest which flusters y/n even more. Y/n stares at his broad chest and tries her best to not let her gaze wander more downwards. Katsuki takes her hand and lets it wander to his abdomen just above his – y/n yanks her hand back, her cheeks flushed in scarlet. Katsuki gives her a dirty laugh.

“It's not funny!”, y/n laughs getting up from her place beside the tub. Anger flushes her system. How can he make such jokes? Doesn't he understand just how traumatizing it was what he did to her? Or does he simply doesn't care?

Upon seeing her angry face, Katsuki understands that he crossed a line. His face becomes regretful He only wanted to see how far she'd go. Katsuki reaches for her hand that balled into a fist by her side. Gently, he strokes over the back of her hand and y/n relaxes.

“Sorry”, he mumbles and y/n understands the apology. She takes the bucket with cold water that stands next to the tub and pours it over Katsuki's head in one swift motion. Katsuki yelps and lets out a string of courses.

“Now we're even.”, y/n tells him grinning and Katsuki rolls his eyes. Y/n laughs and Katsuki is taken aback by how pretty y/n sounds when she laughs. Then, y/n takes the soap again and starts washing his hair. Gently, she runs her fingers through the wild, blonde strands and scratches his scalp. Katsuki leans back again and sinks a bit deeper into the tub. Y/n's hands feel good on him. He regrets pushing her earlier, but her soft hands make him remember how they feel around his dick. Quickly, he tries to shake the thought. He can't get a boner right now, not after y/n made clear what she thinks about touching him intimately. Instead, he tries to focus on the feeling of y/n's hand in his hair.

Katsuki hums relaxed and y/n can't help but notice how he leans into her touch. She tries the anger from earlier. Katsuki's been nice to her. He got her all these new, warm clothes and books. Clearly, he must've thought about her while he was away and y/n feels a little bit bad that she didn't think that much about him.

Maybe I can be a little bit nicer to him, y/n decides.

~*~*~*~

While Katsuki finishes his bath, y/n goes back to their tent and tries on some of the dresses Katsuki brought for her. They're a bit too long for her, but y/n figures she could ask the old woman for help in resewing them. It shouldn't be too hard to tailor them to her size.

The fabric feels nice and warm on her skin and y/n wishes she had a mirror to look at herself. She twirls around in the dress and when she comes to a stop, she sees Katsuki leaning at the doorway to the bath hut grinning at her.

“Ya like it?”, he asks and y/n smiles brightly at him. “Thank you, Katsuki.”, she tells him.

Katsuki's heart skips a beat. I'm being a good mate, right?, he thinks to himself and feels rather smug. He takes a step forward and examines y/n in the dress. He takes the hem of the skirt and swishes it around a bit. The fabric is rather heavy. Doesn't that bother her?, he wonders but y/n seems perfectly happy with it. He runs his fingers over her hips and y/n stiffens. He mistakes her stiffness as a rejection and he clicks his tongue. At least I can see her curves better like this, he decides.

Meanwhile, y/n grows hot under her clothes. I really shouldn't react to his touch this way, she decides, after all his touch hurt me before.

~*~*~*~

After Katsuki's hair is dried, he takes her to the bonfire. It's bigger than most nights and the smell of food and hot alcohol lingers in the air. There are men celebrating and laughing everywhere. I guess it's a feast, y/n decides. Katsuki maneuvers her to Kirishima who sits beside a pale, thin woman who keeps her eyes on the ground. Curiously, y/n looks at her. When the woman raises her head a bit and meets y/n's eyes, y/n smiles at her, but the woman quickly looks down again.

Disappointment flashes through y/n and she quickly adverts her eyes as well. Only then she notices that there are multiple younger women she hasn't seen before. They all look timid and pale. She counts 13 of them including Nadia who only slightly shakes her head when y/n spots her. Y/n walks over to her anyways.

“Nadia, where have you been?”, y/n asks. The woman glances at her husband who is sitting next to her talking to some other men. When he doesn't react, she replies to y/n: “At home, where else?”. Y/n's eyebrows furrow.

“Doesn't the tall blonde woman put you to work?”, she asks and Nadia crooks her head ever so slightly.

“They make you work?”, Nadia says in a hushed tone.

“Yes, I helped at the forge.”, y/n says proudly but Nadia only gives her a bewildered look.

“The forge? Oh, you must have it worse than us! I've told you Bakugou Katsuki is the worst of the lot!”, Nadia exclaims and winces when her husband laughs loudly and hits his own leg in amusement.

At first, y/n is surprised by that. Then, she remembers that people in the kingdom have very different ideas about what is suitable work for a woman. Her own people never made a big distinction between male and female work. Of course, hard labor often was done by men but it's mostly because they're naturally stronger than women. Nevertheless, such work was not forbidden for women. If one had a talent for a certain type of work, they were encouraged to take it up. For example, her father was exceptionally good at needlework. While her mother was good at mending clothes, it was her father who stitched pretty patterns into her clothes.

Before y/n could answer, Katsuki calls her back to his side. She quickly says goodbye to Nadia before turning to Katsuki's side. Katsuki's sitting in a circle with the same men y/n saw close to the dragon's den. One of the men hands her a cup with warm liquid which turns out to be a sort of hot wine. Y/n takes a big gulp of it. It tastes fruity and sweet. She immediately takes another gulp and the men laugh. Katsuki, however, puts a hand on her arm.

“Slow down, that shit's strong.”, he tells her but y/n only shrugs which earns her another round of laughter.

The men continue chatting among themselves and y/n watches how Kirishima offers some of the fruity wine to the woman next to him who courtly declines his offer. Kirishima gives y/n a deflated smile when he notices that y/n is watching them. Having already finished her cup, y/n extends her arm to take the cup from Kirishima.

“Geez, Katsuki! Your woman can drink!”, one of the men laughs when they see y/n on her third cup of wine. Katsuki rolls his eyes. “She most definitely will regret this tomorrow.”, he grumbles and Kirishima pats his back.

At some point, y/n doesn't remember when (probably due to the amount of alcohol she consumed), people brought out instruments and started playing music. The music of Katsuki's tribe is very different from the music y/n's people played. Since y/n's people were always on the road, they didn't bring big, heavy instruments along like drums or horns. They stuck to small flutes and light guitars. The dragon tribe's music is louder, faster and y/n can feel the drums within her bones. Eventually, people start dancing and y/n watches them for a while. While their dance isn't light-footed like her people's dances, they're still enchanting to watch. Heavy foot stomps are followed by graceful turns and rhythmic clapping.

It's been so long since I danced, y/n muses. She remembers the midsummer festival days before she met Katsuki. Even then she only could watch. Turning to Katsuki, she notices that the man is watching her over the rim of his wine cup. Immediately, an idea pops up in her head.

I bet he knows how to dance, she thinks.

She leans over to Katsuki and pulls on the hem of his sleeve. Then, she points towards the dancers and looks at him expectantly. He looks at her bewildered.

“Absolutely fucking not.”, he tells her and shakes his head. Y/n pouts and gives him a pleading look.

“I said no. End of discussion.”, Katsuki grumbles and turns away from her.

Feeling rejected, y/n stares into her empty cup. What an ass, she thinks. Then, another idea pops into her head. I bet the others know how to dance too, she thinks and takes a look at the men sitting next to Katsuki. There's Kirishima who looks a bit deflated and keeps glancing at the woman by his side. He's probably kind enough to teach me, y/n thinks. She almost made up her mind to ask him when her gaze fell on another man. It's the blonde called Denki who gave Katsuki the wiggly eyes earlier. I bet that would really piss Katsuki off, y/n thinks smugly, Good.

Determinedly, y/n stands up. Katsuki gives her a wary glance. Confidently, y/n walks over to Denki who's been watching her for some time now.

“What can I do for you, Miss?”, he asks and grins and y/n. Y/n tucks his sleeve and points towards the dancers.

“Oh, you wanna dance? Doesn't your man wanna dance with you?”, Denki asks and gives his chief a questioning look.

“Over my dead body.”, Katsuki simply replies.

“Then it's okay when I show her how to dance?”, Denki asks and Katsuki only shrugs. “Knock yourself out, Denks. Just be careful she doesn't puke on you.”, he tells his subordinate.

Denki flashes y/n a grin and stands up, leading her to the area where the people dance. Firstly, he shows her a simple coordination of steps which y/n imitates. When y/n feels confident in the steps, Denki speeds up the pace. Y/n has some trouble keeping up with him and steps on his toes. Denki only laughs and spins her around. Y/n has to laugh too and lets Denki take the lead now that she's gotten used to the steps and speed. Together they stomp and clap and Denki keeps spinning her around. Maybe it's the spinning, maybe it's the alcohol, but eventually y/n loses balance and crashes into Denki who luckily is a lot stronger than her and keeps holding her up. They both laugh at y/n's clumsiness and y/n feels fuzzy inside.

Dancing really is fun, she muses as she steadies herself. Expectantly, she looks up to Denki but he looks at something behind her. She turns to look at whatever Denki's looking at, but the man is quicker than her and he quickly pulls her in again.

“Katsuki's jealous.”, he whispers into her ear. Y/n only understands the word “Katsuki” and honestly, it doesn't need a genius or translator for her to figure out that Katsuki's probably not happy about her dancing with another man this closely.

Whatever, he didn't want to dance. It's his own fault when I dance with somebody else, she decides.

She pulls at Denki's arms who gives her an amused look.

“You're playing with fire, missy.”, he says before swirling her around for another dance.

Just when the musicians start a new song, Katsuki materializes next to them.

“Take your hands off my woman.”, Katsuki hisses at Denki. There's rage behind his eyes. However, Denki's not impressed by this.

“Pretty sure she put her hands on me first.”, Denki replies but stops dancing. Katsuki looks as if he's about to spew fire. Denki lets go off y/n and shrugs. “Not my fault you don't know how to please your woman.”, Denki says mischievously and retreats before Katsuki can reply (or punch him).

Katsuki turns to y/n who looks at him equally unimpressed. She rolls her eyes. “Men and their ego.”, she mumbles before turning around to join the group back at the bonfire. Katsuki stomps after her. Sulking, y/n sits down on a log crossing her arms infront of her chest. The men laugh at Katsuki as he joins them again. He tries to give y/n another cup of wine as a peace offering but declines sharply.

To be honest, y/n wanted Katsuki to be jealous. She hoped it scraped his ego enough to make him dance with her but Katsuki seemed to have no intention to do that. Whatever, y/n grumbles to herself, It should've been obvious that he doesn't know how to have a good time.

They stay at the feast for a little while longer. The men chat among themselves but Katsuki doesn't join their conversation anymore and y/n keeps glancing at the dancers longingly. Finally, Katsuki has had enough. He pulls y/n up and says goodbye to the rest of the lot before dragging y/n back to their tent. By the time, they arrive, y/n is still sulking which pisses Katsuki off even more.

Y/n starts to get ready for bed and disappears into the bath hut while Katsuki puts on his own sleepwear. When y/n returns, she still doesn't spare Katsuki a glance.

“I just hate fucking dancing!”, he exclaims loudly as y/n settles onto the bed. She gives him a flat look and shrugs. Then she turns around to slide under the covers.

I just can't get it right with her, Katsuki thinks angrily. He's getting more and more frustrated. A more reasonable voice in the back of his head says: You could've gotten this right. She clearly told you what she wanted and you were too proud to entertain the idea.

Katsuki stands at the edge of the bed and stares at her form. She seemed to have so much fun with Denki. She didn't even mind when Denki touched her hips or when her chest touched Denki's chest when she crashed into him.

It could've been you, she laughed with., that nasty voice says. Unfortunately, he has to admit that the voice is right. He could've made her happy tonight. He could've undone a little bit of the damage of the mating if he wasn't so goddamn prideful.

“Fuck it.”, he grumbles and leans over to y/n pulling her towards the edge of the bed. Y/n swirls around and looks up at him. “What?”, she demands and Katsuki motions for her to get up. Slowly, y/n does so.

“What do you want, Katsuki?”, she asks him increasingly annoyed. Katsuki pulls her into the middle of the tent which is still crowded due to the boxes that were brought in earlier. He stands closely toward her and puts a hand on her hip. He looks kind of embarrassed.

“So... I don't know how to do this. If ya want it, ya need to show me.”, he grumbles and laces his fingers with hers. Y/n stares up at him unsure what his intentions are. She sighs deeply and shakes her head.

“I don't know what you want from me, Katsuki.”, she says and takes a step back turning back to bed. Katsuki catches her arm and twirls her around to him. Clumsily, he starts to sway back and forth. Y/n has to laugh.

“Now you want to dance?”, she laughs, “And what is this? This is not dancing!”

Katsuki's ears turn red and he mumbles something y/n doesn't understand.

“Don't tell me the great Katsuki doesn't know how to dance!”, she says more solemnly. For a moment, she observes him before deciding: “Alright, I teach you how my people dance.”

Y/n takes a step back and for a moment Katsuki thinks she's going to lie down again. Then, she softly bows to him and raises her hand. When he doesn't react, she takes his hand and lays it flat against hers, so that their hands float in the air. Then she takes a step forward and a step back.

Katsuki imitates her embarrassedly. Y/n starts moving them in a circle and after four full circles, she steps closer to him, angling their hand sideways and pulling his other hand on her hip. They spin again.

Katsuki's face is a deep scarlet and a soft smile of amusement graces y/n's face. It's actually kind of sweet that he's trying, she thinks, he's still terrible at it though.

Eventually, y/n takes another step forward and leans her head against his shoulder and they sway back and forth, a dance move Katsuki appreciates. Y/n can hear the thundering of his heartbeat. Katsuki stops the swaying and drops her hand. Instead, he pulls her close against his chest. Gently, he strokes over her back and buries his other hand into her hair softly scratching her scalp. Carefully, he presses a kiss against her temple.

“I'm really trying, ya know?”, he mumbles before burying his face into her hair as well. Y/n hums and runs her hand through his hair which sends a pleasant shiver down Katsuki's spine.

“I really would love to be able to speak to you, Katsuki.”, y/n tells him, “Even if it's only to point out how stupid you are sometimes.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

tag list:

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[Please comment beneath the last update if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters]

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olderthannetfic · 3 months ago

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Actually, sorry, nevermind with the pro ship stuff ! Did my research and I'm more informed abt it :) you dont need to post either of the asks I sent abt it (and I'm lowkey scared if coming across as a close minded purist prude whose disillusioned about being by one.)..either way ty!

*giggling*

The reality is that any new, viral thing from thirty seconds ago spreads easily on TikTok, most especially misinformation. Instagram is another pretty terrible platform just in terms of algorithms and how it's run. I wouldn't expect the prevailing understanding of such-and-such from within one bubble on either to necessarily be well informed.

The concept of "antis" under that name is pretty new, and the concept of "proshippers" is even newer. It has always meant "not antis". Some people have started mutating it to be about specific dark content, but it was always supposed to be about opposing censorship-happy idiots.

I don't find incestuous ships any freakier than other common fantasies people have. Same with adult/minor ships. You're seeing them in a distinct category because they upset you in particular. The feelings are fine, but they don't actually mean that these kinks are darker than all the other ones antis go after.

I know you think someone will be able to interpret "proshippers DNI" as "only the actually bad people should stay away", but that simply isn't what's going to happen. First, DNIs are moronic. Curating your online space means that you need to be the one blocking and avoiding. You can't ask random strangers, possibly your enemies, to do it for you. Second, people are going to have all kinds of opinions on which content is Bad Enough to count even assuming they share a similar definition of 'proshipper'.

This kind of "Well, we all know what the Bad Stuff is" attitude tends to have a chilling effect on a space. People are all paranoid that their kinks might count and self-censor far beyond what the person who said it expected.

Honestly, aside from the constant misuse of the terms, my assumption is that public proshippers on Instagram and TikTok are mostly into extreme things because anyone less extreme wouldn't have the balls to be public. The amount of death and rape threats from antis wouldn't be worth it.

As for my "rules", I don't have any. This is my personal tumblr, but since I leave anon on, people send me lots of things. I post most of them, but I get so many now, that I'll sometimes cut off a topic that has dragged on boringly. I usually don't post the threats I get unless they're funny and I want to mock them.

Re teens in fandom, I got into fandom at 13 on Usenet and set about reading all of the freakiest porn available. I read far worse stuff outside of fandom. I was curious, as many people that age are. It never did me any harm, and it won't do any harm to current 13-year-olds to read dark shit.

The people who get fucked up already have a lack of decent mentors in their offline life, are reading things as self harm, are actually being harmed by the social side of fandom where they've found some creep for horny roleplay, are the subject of a public hate campaign, etc. That sucks, but it's not something I can control or that will get better if we exclude them from fandom.

Teens would be better protected by their parents removing TikTok from their phones than by anything to do with fandom. Its short form makes it ideal for poorly fact-checked soundbites that sound good on the surface but discourage critical thinking or nuanced engagement with a topic. Youtube et al. are also cesspits, but TikTok has elevated predatory algorithms and viral misinformation to a whole new level.

Now back to rewatching miniminuteman. Hahaha.

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phantomrose96 · 3 months ago

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Actually I'm so incredibly lucky to have The Silt Verses because it gives me the kind of character dynamics I desperately love and so very rarely find.

I am an ABSOLUTE sucker for characters who go "I will move heaven and earth for you. I will be driven to both great and terrible decisions for your sake because of how I am defined by you" but I do... NOT... care about romance. I Don't Care About Romance. I don't want it. I don't relate. My immersion hits a cliff there. I'm an aromantic Character Enjoyer and I do not care about shipping at all.

So as you can imagine, it's a challenge to find "I will do everything for you" character dynamics which, if not canonically romantic, end up being ships that get treated like canon if you try to talk about the characters in fandom spaces.

I am incredibly drawn to sibling media and I think it's largely because that's the primary way I've found these dynamics and they don't get treated as "come on it's basically a canon romance" by the main chunk of the fandom. I'm an FMA enjoyer, a Gravity Falls enjoyer, an Over The Garden Wall enjoyer--fuck I'm a Supernatural enjoyer, for this reason. Do you know what that's like? When Supernatural gets you because you're so hungry?

And then... The Silt Verses... Filled, FILLED, with these "I will move heaven and earth for you" kinds of dynamics--healthy, unhealthy, as sources of hope and sources of absolute destruction. Of course I'm here for it. Of course I'm clocked in.

But it SHOULD be hopeless for me. I mean the only actual sibling dynamics are just within backstories--Carpenter and her brother Em. Faulkner and his brother Charlie. Hayward has no siblings. Paige's aren't relevant. Faulkner and Carpenter have exactly this intense dynamic I love--same with Paige and Hayward--and then Hayward and Carpenter--and I should be taking the L because this always ends in ships.

But Jon Ware and Muna Hussen--who I owe my life to--very intentionally did not do that. Carpenter is aromantic. She gets to be that canonically. There's never a hint of romantic tension between her and Faulkner. When they call each other brother and sister, it's religious formality first, and then it's an actual found-sibling kind of bond.

Hayward and Paige, in like any other media, would have been a couple. The way they save each other, and lean on each other, and leave their old selves behind to become someone new together. It's obvious. I've seen it a million times. But when Jon Ware got asked in a Q&A about what Paige and Hayward -are- to each other ... look I just need to go with direct quotes to do the answer justice

I think maybe there’s also an implicit question there about whether there’s something romantic going on – maybe I’m reading into it, but that is something that’s on my mind a lot, so I’d love to talk about it more. ... I personally, I don’t like writing fictional characters where the most important moment in their narrative arcs is when they get together with the person they were always meant to get together with. ... And again, I think [give the people what they want] can send you in the wrong direction, one that ends up being essentially flattening – we don’t think, "if these characters hook up, OK, what new opportunities does that give us to explore them, to understand them in greater depth?" ... And after we released maybe one episode of The Silt Verses, I saw a couple of folks online going ‘oh, god, I hope this isn’t going to end with Carpenter and Faulkner hooking up,’. And you go, "oh my god, I hadn’t considered that as a possibility for a second, that’s not who they are and that’s not what the relationship is here" - but of course all of us are primed for it, that enemies-to-lovers thread that is so common. ... Because it was freeing because after Season 1, nobody is expecting or hoping that Hayward gets together with anybody. No-one wants that particularly!

And Shrue and Val come along... each of whom has intense interactions and kinds of relationships with the people they encounter but, still, no romance. And nothing among the high katabasians or the adjudicators. If there WAS any kind of romantic read with Rane toward Faulkner, it does nothing to overshadow what was happening there. I liked someone's likening it to Lady Macbeth and Macbeth. The Thing going on between them can't really be reduced to shipping.

We DO even get the family-related bonds and trauma I usually lean on. Paige with her dad. Faulkner with his dad. Carpenter dealing with the trauma of her Nana and brother. Shrue left in harrowing limbo about the safety of their (maybe non-existent) children and husband.

Anyway I didn't even mean this to be so long. I'm just so blessed and lucky to have character dynamics where they're screaming and sobbing each other's names and no one is pulling the "There's no platonic explanation for this" card. I'm so glad.

#the silt verses #tsv #sister carpenter #brother faulkner #aromantic #chrissy listens to tsv

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purplekissinger · 1 year ago

Text

I am the pretty thing that lives in the castle

And I pray one prayer - I repeat it till my tongue stiffens - Catherine Earnshaw, may you not rest as long as I am living; you said I killed you - haunt me, then! Emily Bronte, ‘Wuthering Heights’.

Y/N became a ghost instead of Myrtle. She couldn't care less about Tom. He wishes he could say the same. Wordcount: 3k.

At their first meeting, Tom even shrieked a little (as he later justified, solely because Y/N took him by surprise). He crept towards the sinks that bathed in the bluish light of the moon, and did not at all expect that someone would jump at him from the ceiling with a “Boo!”

“Boo,” Y/N said reluctantly and passed through him like a light bluish cloud. Tom closed his eyes, but didn’t feel anything.

“Good evening to you too,” he said, looking at her cautiously. Y/N floated up to the ceiling and was now studying the stucco, running her ghostly finger absentmindedly over the frozen gargoyle masks. “What's new?”

“As you may guess, absolutely nothing,” Y/N responded, “but I like that you’re trying to be polite. It's nice.”

“Do you feel ‘nice’?”

“Not really. I'm using words that I learned in life, but they don't quite describe my experience because I've never experienced anything like this before. I'd rather you be polite than rude, and that's my new “nice.”

Tom looked at her, a luminous spot against the black wall, which trembled slightly, like the wings of a strange butterfly. Y/N died wearing a thin shirt, but there was no longer any way she could be cold or get sick.

“If I didn’t know you were a Ravenclaw, I would have guessed by now,” he said.

“I was different when I was alive,” Y/N said judiciously. “More lively”

“You sure were”.

“No, I mean it. I can't explain it enough for you to understand, but this experience is...changing. Everything becomes so transparent, unreal. If I were the same, I would have already cried barrels of tears and flooded the toilet”.

“There is someone who is eager to do that for you,” Tom said gloomily. “Myrtle has been whining all day long, telling everyone what a wonderful friend you were.”

“Me?” Y/N sounded surprised. “I can’t remember that we were friends. However, I did stand up for her a couple of times…”

Tom kept silent a little longer, angrily tapping his fingers on the broken edge of the sink. When falling, already dead, Y/N hit her head here. They didn't fix the sink, instead, they put a lock on the toilet door, but Tom sneaked in almost every evening.

“Is that why you’re not angry at me for killing you?” he finally asked.

“Well, technically you didn’t kill me. You just released a basilisk, which also didn't do anything against its nature, so it's kind of like an accident. Although I can understand why you didn’t tell anyone about it all,” Y/N said. “No, that’s not the reason why”.

“You are very understanding,” said Tom. “Is it okay if I stay here a little longer? I need to prepare an essay on the history of magic, and tomorrow is the final match between the badgers and Slytherin. All of Hogwarts is shaking”.

“Make yourself at home,” Y/N said indifferently.

She went down to the Chamber of Secrets with him when the time came to seal it. Hovering silently two steps behind him, she looked at the tunnels and rusty gratings that were many, many centuries old, and for the first time something like curiosity was reflected on her transparent face. For some reason this made Tom feel almost happy. Y/N’s curiosity became almost human when, rustling its scales, a huge snake slowly crawled out of the black hole in the wall and surrounded them with a ring, and put its terrible head so as to get a better look at the guests, and hissed in greeting.

“I've read that those who speak Parseltongue can look a basilisk in the eyes and survive,” said Tom, looking down, “but I don’t want to test that.”

Y/N looked fearlessly with her dead eyes straight into the face of the creature.

“Yes, the cost of a mistake would be very high,” she said. “What is your pet's name?”

“Susie,” Tom said quietly. “It's a girl”.

Y/N smiled weakly.

“Hello, Susie,” she said. Susie let out a squeal that sounded more like a laugh. “Nice to meet you. Unfortunately, this is not for long, because we have come to seal the Chamber of Secrets forever.”

“For a while,” Tom corrected her. “Susie, I'll be back, I promise. I don't know when, but I'll be back”.

He closed his eyes and stretched his hands forward. The basilisk poked its terrible mouth into his chest, and Tom hugged her.

***

When Tom returned to school the next year, no one noticed anything, and he even began to think that the ritual did not work, but as soon as he crossed the threshold of the toilet on the third floor, a quiet exclamation was heard from under the ceiling:

“Oh! Tom, what happened to you?”

Like a feather or a petal, Y/N slowly descended towards him. Tom looked at her and thought that flying suited her well.

“Is it that noticeable?” he asked suspiciously.

“You have become very small,” Y/N said, flying around him. “Like this,” and made a small circle with her hands. “Where did half of you go?”.

This is how he learned that ghosts see the effects of Horcruxes.

“I won’t tell anyone,” she promised. “Who was it?”

And Tom told her. About everything, about how he found out who the Gaunts were, about how he found his uncle, about the Riddles, about how scary it was to look at his father’s corpse, because he was so very alike him, about how he made a Horcrux right there while the bodies were still warm. It was easy for him, he wanted to talk, to free himself from every detail, take it out of his head, let Y/N look, discuss, judge.

She was in no hurry to judge. She just said:

“This could backfire on you.”

“How?” Tom suddenly felt offended. He just now realized that he would like her to admire what a cool magician he is, and maybe even clap her hands.

“I know more than you,” she said vaguely. “Not everything, perhaps, but more. Yes, I’m still on the threshold, but from where I’m standing, it’s clear that you acted very rashly.”

“What do you mean by ‘still’?"

She didn't answer.

All autumn, winter and summer he went to visit Y/N, even leaving textbooks in a niche by the window. It was quiet and somehow very cozy there, the light from the window was so gentle, and on sunny days the stained glass windows seemed to light up with colored lights. Y/N was silent for the most part, but seeing her figure out of the corner of his eye and hearing her thoughtful humming under her breath was... nice. This was his new “nice”, because something inside of him began to change inexplicably, irreversibly and horribly.

In winter, he asked her to come to the Yule Ball, and she agreed, and she blew out all the candles and ruined the chandelier. Oh, the chaos!.. And in the spring they celebrated Y/N’s first Deathday Party. For this occasion Tom stole a lemon pie from the kitchen, but Y/N politely thanked him and said that she couldn’t eat that. She fluttered back and forth, he chewed on the pie, they argued about the technique of using Fiendfyre, and it was a nice evening.

“I won’t come back here in the fall,” Tom said suddenly, because in fact that’s all he’s been thinking about for the last few days.

“I know,” Y/N said. “You are in seventh year. I can count to seven”.

“But I’ll come back someday,” he said stubbornly. “I just don’t know when”.

“I think I’ve already heard this once”.

“I’ll come back for Susie too, don’t you worry.”

“And what will we do then, riddle me this?”

“Seize the Ministry of Magic,” he blurted out. “Y/N, I'll miss you. Will you miss me?”

“I would like to tell you something nice in response, but I’ll tell the truth. Maybe I won't be here soon.”

He suddenly felt very hot. Then terribly cold.

“What do you mean you won’t be here? Where are you going to go?” Tom asked in an unnaturally high voice. “Aren’t you here forever?”

“Not really,” Y/N answered evasively. “You see, when I died, I was not at all ready for this”.

“Can anyone possibly be ready for this?”

“You must be ready, Tom. Now I know that. I was confused and made... the wrong choice. Stuck on the threshold. Didn't go any further. But I can step forward at any moment, I just need to think it over carefully and make a decision”.

“Can’t you step back?” Tom asked. He did not put hope into these words, but it sounded nevertheless.

“No,” Y/N answered simply. “I died, Tom”.

He rested his hand on his cheek and watched her spin, arms outstretched, right up to the ceiling, the invisible wind blowing her hair. He said:

“I regret that I didn’t know you when you were alive. I think we could become friends.”

“We could,” Y/N agreed. “But for this to happen you shouldn’t have killed me”.

Tom jumped up sharply and, his burning face hid in his hands, quickly walked out of the room. The door slammed so loudly that the noise echoed throughout the entire corridor.

***

Tom did not soon cross this threshold again.

He walked from Dumbledore's office after the first unsuccessful job interview in his life, he wanted to get out of the castle as quickly as possible so as not to endure this humiliation anymore, but his feet themselves led him to the third floor.

“You have become even smaller,” said a familiar voice, which he had only dreamed about in the morning. Loud, distant, but somehow comforting. “You're barely visible”.

Tom was silent. He looked and still did not believe that he was seeing her again. Finally he grinned and stepped forward.

“But you’re still the same,” he said.

“The same, but not quite,” Y/N objected, going down to meet him. “I thought a lot and almost decided to take a step further”.

“But not yet?”

“Not yet. This is a complex process, and it doesn't get any easier now that I have all the time in the world”.

“What exactly are you doing?” Tom asked, leaning against the wall. A forgotten feeling of comfort covered him in a cool wave. He felt like he wanted to stay.

“I’m thinking,” Y/N said. “A lot”.

“Don’t you need to, I don’t know, take revenge on your murderer?” he asked and realized that it sounded like a request. Lord Voldemort had a lot of requests that day.

“No, thanks,” said Y/N. She looked him up and down with a curious look and added: “It seems to me that there’s not much left of him anyway.”

Tom tiredly sank to the floor and tucked his legs under him. He wanted to talk to her again and again, so that she would answer sharply, but always to the point. He wanted her to scream at him, to rush to claw his eyes out, he wanted her to thirst for revenge.

“I sometimes saw you in my dreams,” he said. “Like we’re friends or something.”

“I have nothing to do with this,” Y/N said. “Have you made any living friends over the years?”

“Wait for me,” Lord Voldemort said without listening to her. He wanted it to sound like an order, but it turned out to be the third request. “Y/N, I figured out how to defeat death.”

“Sure you did”.

“I am not lying. I really fought it all this time and almost won”.

“I wish you would know how stupid you look now.”

“Are you going to listen or not?! I tell you, wait, I will bring you back, I will fix everything, you will be alive again, I will get you out…”

“Promise?”

“Yes, yes!”

“Lord Voldemort's promise?”

She smiled. Unable to look at her, Tom stormed out.

***

The third time he returned to the castle was on May 2, 1998. He walked along the empty corridors of the third floor, and his steps echoed loudly. He was going to congratulate Y/N on her yet another Deathday. In his hands was not a lemon pie, but an Elder Wand.

The door to the girls' toilet was blown off its hinges by the explosion. He crossed the threshold and saw that the stained glass windows were broken, and golden dawn rays were pouring into the room. For a second it seemed to him that the place was empty, that he was late.

“Oh, Merlin!” a familiar laugh rang out. “What's happened to you, Tom? You have become so very small, smaller than a mouse!”

She came down from the ceiling as before, but for the first time he saw her in the pink rays of the sun, and she seemed almost alive. For the first time he saw her almost alive.

“Come with me, Y/N”, he said softly. His hand trembled a little, grasping his wand. “I will bring you back to life. I will give you back everything and even more. Soon I will have the Resurrection Stone, and you will live again”.

She laughed even louder, twirled as if in a dance, and he felt uneasy.

“Stupid, stupid Tom,” Y/N said. “Still don’t get this, do you? Everyone gets smarter over the years, but you seem to only get dumber”.

And no Avada Kedavra could shut her up.

“But I'm glad you came. Really, I am. I wanted to say goodbye to you, Tom. I'm finally making that step”.

“No,” Lord Voldemort said in a changed voice. “Don’t. Don’t you dare”.

“Or else what?”

“Don't do this”, when was the last time he begged for something, pleaded? Was it with her?! “Stay. Stay, Y/N. I told you, I'll bring you back!”

“You forgot the magic word”. Y/N giggled. She sank to the floor and looked at him cheerfully and seriously at the same time. “I feel sorry for you, Tom”.

He had heard it once before, but coming from her it sounded and felt like “Crucio.”

“I have to go, really. There's no time to chat. I’ll tell you one more thing. Soon you will be offered a choice one last time, so please, please, don’t be stubborn. Can you do this for me?”

Tom looked at her desperately, afraid to blink, and still missed the moment when Y/N melted into the air.

***

The empty platform shines white, as if it were covered with snow. There are no trains here. No people, too. The bench blackens on the platform like a wound. A faint whimper came from under the bench.

A girl is walking along the platform.

She is wearing a thin shirt, but there is no way that she could be cold. The blue tie is fluttering in the invisible wind. She hurries to the bench, bends down, carefully takes out the bundle of robes from there, and opens it, and smiles a little and carefully presses it to her chest.

#harry potter #tom riddle #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x reader #voldemort x y/n #voldemort x reader

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thatbadadvice · 9 months ago

Note

I (15f) am slightly worried that I led on some guys I did not mean to lead on.

There are two guys that I've hung out with over longer spans of time or regularly.

1. Hung out with him for several hours non-stop cause he was fun to hang out with, and we took a walk in the forest aswell, he got (slightly) touchy but not that much.

2. Works in a shop in my small city and I go there almost weekly just to hang out but always buy something, he sometimes offers me drinks for free (twice by now) or reduces the price.

They both got my insta too

However, the problem is that a) I'm not looking for a relationship and, more importantly, b) they are both in their 20s.

I took care to mention that I am only 15 to both of them but idk if that changed anything. Any advice? I also don't want to confront them directly cause I might have just interpreted it like this.

Hello, anonymous!

Thank you for writing in. I am delighted to inform you that you have excellent judgment for wondering what the hell is going on here, and for questioning these guys' behavior toward you.

Grown-ass men — and that is what dudes in their 20s are — bear the burden of not being weird to, for, or about young women of your age. It is the grown-ass men of the world who are obligated not to make you, or young women like you, feel weird about literally anything. In fact, grown-ass men should go out of their way, on purpose and with gusto, NEVER to get even within ten million football fields' worth of "(slightly) touchy" with a gal of your age. So that's my read on Mr. Walk In The Woods. I have less to say definitively about Mr. Free/Cheap Drinks, but I trust your judgment: if you feel like Mr. Free/Cheap Drinks is sending some ~ signals ~, you're right about it.

It sounds like both of these Grown-Ass Men are trying to make pretty creepo moves, so let me be clear: nothing you could ever do could even possibly in the most remote sense amount to "leading them on," because you are not responsible for the behavior of Grown-Ass Men.

I think you know this, or you wouldn't be asking the Bad Advisor this question. You know they're being weird. You know you haven't done anything beyond exist in these dudes' general sphere, which you are entitled to do! You are allowed to exist in the world without having to swat off the advances of older guys! It really sucks that girls and women can just be living our regular-ass lives and have dudes be at us like this. But you're not responsible for their decisions — whether it's a decision to offer you free/cheap drinks (with strings attached, implied) or to get (slightly) handsy during a walk in the woods.

The fact that you told both of these Grown-Ass Men explicitly that you are 15 years old should have sent both of them spinning back into the sun with shame and embarrassment, not that they probably needed it spelled out, but GOOD ON YOU for making it so clear. That is actually terribly brave of you, and they should have fallen all over themselves to not fall all over you subsequently. They should be mortified about their behavior.

You did not misinterpret their actions; and if you did, who cares? Some dudes who weren't hitting on a 15-year-old will continue to not hit on a 15-year-old? Girl, your self-preservation instinct is INTACT and WORKING. It's on them not to be creepos. Any Grown-Ass Man who is on the level and not a weirdo would 1000000000000% never need to be told "Hey dude, I'm 15" in the first place. You have good judgment. You are reading these men correctly.

So what do you do about your good judgment? Well, first — no more walks in the woods. Suddenly you have an urgent appointment that precludes all walks in woods! The benefit-of-the-doubt ship has sailed. Dude got handsy and you dislike it. Dunzo. You are unavailable for future walks in woods (or anywhere). You've got a test to study for, a practice to go to, some buddies to hang out with elsewhere. So sorry, no-can. Dude can find a 20-to-90-something-year-old woman to paw up under the canopy if that's his jam. There are scores of women his age and older who'd be glad (i guess?) to get felt up while some dude shoves them ~ romantically ~ against the bark of a moldy Hackberry.

As for Mr. Free/Cheap Drinks — look, I appreciate the appeal of a discount beverage — but I think you gotta be prepared to aggressively (politely) pay for your drinks. Dude says "This one is on the house" and you DGAF, because you've got $5 cash and you're laying it on the counter with a smile and saying "I really appreciate it, but I'd like to pay for my drink — you get it!"

It's the "you get it!" that's really the key here. It's polite, but clear. It demands that these Grown-Ass Dudes do the work of not getting it and saying so if they're gonna be that dippy about it. You can use it on Mr. Handsy In The Woods, too. You can't do X, Y, Z because Reasons -- "Gotta get back to piano practice, it would be weird if I stayed here, since we're just friends! You get it!"

You shouldn't have to do the work of offering these dippos the "you get it" out, but it's a safe and reliable way of making it clear that they better the fuck get it. Like, they better the fuck understand that you are 15 and they are being weird about this whole deal.

Practice:

"Oh, I'd like to chill but doing another big long hang alone together would make it seem like we're going out or something, and that would be weird -- you get it."

"I appreciate the discount, but if I keep taking these drinks, it'll seem like you LIKE me or something. That's weird, right? You get it!"

If either of these Grown-Ass Men gets sketchy about these very polite brush-offs, that shit is on them and will only confirm what you know: you have great judgment. These dudes are weird. If they're going to be weird, you can be so polite that they have to explain why, specifically, they are being weird and don't understand what you are politely saying, which is that their interest in you is weird.

You have not led these Grown-Ass Men on by existing in their universe. You have not led them on by being polite to them and tolerating their inappropriate advances to preserve your own safety. The concept of "leading on" is bullshit, fucked up, heteronormative dipshittery that puts the burden on women, mostly, to account for the crappy behavior of men who can, do, and should know better. I assure you these men know better, and they think you don't. That's why older guys pursue younger and teen women in the first place — they think they get to be the big men in charge, because they're afraid they can't manipulate women their own age.

Here's what, though: they can't manipulate you, either. You are clever, self-possessed and a great self-advocate. They're being weird. You're being smart. Make sure they know it.

#advice #good advice interlude #older guys #creeps #creepos #this fucking guy

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o-sachi · 7 months ago

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Dress to Impress Headcanons Pt. 1 - for WinBre Week!

ᯓ what's it like to play the roblox game dress to impress with the Wind Breaker characters? ᯓ characters; sakura haruka, suo hayato, nirei akihiko, sugishita kyotaro, umemiya hajime, hiragi toma (more characs in the next part hopefully) ᯓ tags; crack, some profanity lol, gn reader, no y/n, can be platonic/romantic

[🐟]: for day 8 - side missions prompt! (because dti is a side mission) @windbreakerweek

Sakura Haruka

"How the fuck do I win..."

It will take forever to convince him to play because apparently 'there is no way he's playing dress-up that's made for children' but will fold as soon as you tell him he's just saying that because he hates you.

He keeps forgetting where certain items are and keeps going in circles around the place. That's why he thinks 5 minutes isn't enough.

"Where the fuck are the heels with the pretty pink bows? Man." / "You're going in circles, y'know?" / "Not my fault this shit's a maze."

Pretty standard outfits. Like they're not terrible, but they're not impressive enough to get 4 or 5 stars.

He's more of a simplicity-is-beauty type of guy so that also reflects in the kind of outfits that he makes. But the kids in the server are not having it.

"What does 'ate and served' mean?"

SO SALTY WHEN HE LOSES. But he'll brush it off and pretend that he's cool about it because he is not about to let anyone know he cares about some stupid dress-up game.

Suo Hayato

"Oh, look. I got first place again~"

He was easier to convince. But only if you knew how good he'd be, you wouldn't have asked him to play with you. Why? 'Cuz your morale is plummeting by the second.

He doesn't even need to try. Suo just lets his natural sense of style bleed into the way he plays the game AND HE WINS. He's pretty and so are his outfits.

Suo knows that it's mostly kids playing the game. So when he figures out there are younger people on the server, he'll rate them pretty high to put a smile on their face. (HE'S SO SWEET).

"Suo... it didn't even follow the theme." / "But it's quite nice, don't you think?"

You notice that you rank faster when you duo with him. You've been exploiting this little feature.

"We make a pretty good team, don't we?" / "Huh? Oh, yeah. Haha totally..."

Nirei Akihiko

"OH, this one's good... No, but this one's really good too..."

Nirei is everyone's hypeman: yours, the fashion mavens', the ten year olds who can't follow the theme—literally everyone.

He actually gets better so quickly by observing the outfits of those who win a lot. Like dude is analyzing a whole ass Roblox game. Not that it's intentional—more like it's in his nature.

He falls deep into the DTI rabbit hole. You know because he eagerly waits for updates and hunts for codes on the internet.

"Heyyyy, guess who learned a new code hm?"

His face lights up when you ask him to play... as if he doesn't ask you to play every chance he gets already...

DTI actually becomes his door leading to his descent into the world of Roblox. Seriously, he starts playing more Roblox because you started him with DTI. He also starts asking the other Furin guys to play too.

"Guys, let's do an obby next." / "A what?" / "An obby." / "Again, A WHAT?"

Sugishita Kyotaro

"... I swear I can do better than this..."

This man... this man was even harder to convince compared to Sakura. In fact, you almost gave up. Soooo... you convinced Ume instead (which was easier) and in turn, that forced Sugishita to try it out.

Didn't even ask how it works. He's just reading the text that pops up and goes with the flow.

I'm sorry but... he has the blandest style out of everyone in the main Furin group. Like, he doesn't even try to win AT ALL. But, y'know, A for effort!

"Oh... I have to vote for them?" / "Well, yeah... actually no, just give me 5 stars, okay?"

He plays DTI for a grand total of 3 times, all of which were because Ume asked him to play with the rest of the guys.

He's not much of a gamer to begin with... really, he'd much rather watch you play DTI and see your dramatic reactions to whatever's happening.

Umemiya Hajime

"HAHAHA What's with these silly poses?"

It's like a switch flips in him when he boots up the game and the DTI background song starts playing. He looks waaaaay too happy playing it.

He only started playing because all the hype surrounding it. Ume just wants to be part of the conversation and that's why he tried it out.

Talks way too much in the chat. Usually people just use it to provide more context for their outfits, but Ume actually makes conversation with players there. It's pretty funny to see.

"Look. So many people added me." / "Huh... well ain't that a surprise..."

He almost threw the Ipad out of excitement when he saw that the theme was gardening. He said he had to win or he'd literally die.

A pose 28 spammer, obviously.

"Aw, my game started lagging." / "It's 'cuz you keep spamming poses too fast." / "Dang it."

Hiragi Toma

"I'm not that good at it... okay, maybe just a bit."

He's an old man so bear with him when he tells you that he doesn't even know what a 'Roblox' is. He thought it was a vape flavor by the way.

"So... I have to dress-up and make people vote highly for me?" / "Yeah, it's called Dress to Impress for a reason." / "Oh, yeah. Fair."

He barely tries, but somehow he's kinda good at it? He's not insanely amazing at putting together outfits... but for a guy who's not trying that hard—he's doing pretty well for himself.

But he'll be too embarrassed to admit it. Hiragi would click his tongue and tell you to knock it off once you start complimenting his DTI skills.

He's a bit lost with the Gen Z/Gen Alpha terms, but he's trying to learn—slowly but surely like a little baby lamb learning how to walk.

Will rate you 5 stars no matter what. Everyone else is getting 1 star. Hiragi doesn't care.

"I didn't know you could hit poses here?" / "Yeah, look at this one." / "What the fuck kinda pose is that? Who's doing that on the runway? Bffr." / "Did you just—" / "Told you I'm learning things."

#wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker headcanons #sakura x reader #suo x reader #nirei x reader #sugishita x reader #umemiya x reader #hiragi x reader #sakura haruka #suo hayato #umemiya hajime #wind breaker week #fish does winbre week

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wlwsoccerfics · 2 months ago

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Dangerous Gym Session(Arsenal WomenXRussoReader)

Warnings: diabetes Type 1, struggles with Body image, b*llying, mental health struggles, Google translate used.

Summary: you play for Arsenal just like your sister older sister Lessi.a Gym Session doesn't go as planned.

You were in the Gym, feeling lightheaded & your body was hurting. you realized that your blood sugar was dropping way too late.

So you quickly had two juice boxes. Hoping that it would do the trick. Spoiler alert, it didn't help! Which was why you were lying on the floor of the Gym right now. Trying to get through the pain. Cause you felt really sick. The other girls walked into the Gym , Kyra was the first one to notice you on the floor. "Less! Y/n needs help!" She answered and ran over to you. Alessia right behind her. Quickly followed by the rest of the Team.

"y/n?!cosa c'è che non va?(What's wrong?)" She asked you. You whimpered softly.

"sono basso(i am low)!" You told her. Leah helped you to sit up while Alessia held her phone against your sensor, which showed her how low your blood sugar was. She quickly handed you two more juice boxes from her own bag. She always had some in there for you. Some other Girls from the team were watching with worry written across their faces.

Norah who was entering the gym just now saw you on the floor and ran over. Norah was your teammate and secret girlfriend. Norah was a Goalkeeper for the team. She joined Arsenal two years ago.

"Babe! What's wrong?" She asked and kneeled down in front of you.

"i might have overworked myself without noticing how bad my blood sugar was!" You admitted. Then you looked at the Team and their surprised faces. You and Norah never told anyone about your relationship.

"did you just call y/n Babe?" Katie asked trying to wrap her head around this. You took Norahs Hand, squeezing it gently.

"i knew it." Kyra said, she always thought there was something going on between you and Norah.

"she did. we are together for two months now! It's still really new so we didn't tell anyone." You replied.

"okay we can go back to that relationship later. but what do you mean? Like when will you start listening to your body? Not checking your blood sugar and not listening to your Pump going Off? Like that's dangerous. So why didn't you Check?"Alessia wanted to know. You were biting down on your bottom lip.

"i am sorry! I was just so focused on working out!" You told her. Which was kind of true. but also not. There were some comments about your weight and performance and none of the ones that stuck in your head were anything but terrible. You may be an adult and 22 years old but that didn't mean you were doing well with bullying.

"Babe, what's going on?" Norah asked cause she knew that was not the entire truth. Everyone could tell that there was more to the story and Katie somehow had the brilliant idea to Check under your social Media Posts. Reading all the comments talking about how you have put on some weight and that's probably why you are not as fit as you used to be.

"i think i know!" Katie told the Team and handed Norah her Phone, to show her the comments. Katie looked pissed. So did Norah.

"y/n, those comments are bullshit. and you are a diabetic. Having fluctuations in your weight is part of it. That doesn't change the fact that you are an amazing Athlete and your performance on the field is amazing! Don't let them get to you!" Katie told you. Alessia frowned when she was shown the comments as well.

"this Is what happened? You know you depend on checking your blood sugar. Your life literally depends on that in fact!" Alessia wanted to know. You looked away. Because If your sister didn't look stressed before she sure did now. Stressed and sad. Norah squeezed your hand gently.

"Baby you are perfect the way you are! You are an amazing Athlete and the people who write stuff like that are just Jealous of your talent." Norah told you and the others agreed. A few nodded their head in agreement. Some even spoke up.

"Imagine you starting to feel that way while Lifting weights. That's so dangerous,y/n!" Beth told you.

You look at your teammates and then at your Sister. "I am sorry Guys! Deep down i know all of this. But sometimes These comments still get to me! I am already talking to the therapists about it! So they know!" You explained to them. Referring to the therapists that are part of the staff at Arsenal.

"it's good that you are talking to them about it! But all of us still gonna keep an extra eye on you. more then we already did before! Cause we really care about you!" Caitlin replied.

"that's fair!" You admitted.

"non spaventarmi più così!(don't scare me like that again)" Your sister said.

" non lo farò(i won't)." You replied. Giving her a small smile. She hugged you and you hugged her back while Norah checked with her Phone how your blood sugar was. Which thankfully was going back to normal.

Practice finally started when Reneé showed up and Leah had informed her what just happened so she also kept an extra eye on you.

You felt quite lucky that the team was there for you and cared so much about you! You could always count on them. Which did help with your feelings.

#arsenal women x reader #wosoxreader #alessia russo x russo reader #leah williamson x reader #katie mccabe x reader #oc x reader #beth mead x reader #kyra cooney crossxreader #caitlin foord x reader

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kieren-fucking-walker · 9 months ago

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Hi,

I'm Anna or Ande and the lovely little kitty pictured is Sage. He's an old man (13) who is a terrible menace and also an absolute darling I love dearly.

We recently lost his sister which has been hard on us both, and at his checkup following this the vet advised me he needs at least two teeth removing if not more, and some intervention to prevent further tooth loss.

As most people with cats know, dental care is very rarely covered in their health insurance, and at his age there is nowhere that will cover him for this dental surgery. I've looked around and been quoted mostly between £1000 and £3000 for the work that needs doing, and as the time has gone on he's been struggling to eat and showing signs of discomfort more and more and so it's becoming more urgent that he gets the care he needs.

I've found a not for profit vetinary charity who will do everything he needs for a fixed price of £450, and I will need to travel a fair way to get him there but it will be worth the saving. The problem is that with all the help I'm giving to my family and trying to recover from a mess of financial abuse I don't have any chance of saving this up with the kind of urgency he needs.

Basically I'm looking for £500 to cover the vet bills, travel, and obviously gofundme's fees but I thought this was the most transparent way to do it. I'll be raising alongside saving what I can, so even if I don't hit the goal here as soon as the care is affordable I will be booking him in to be taken care of.

The vet advised that given his age and quality of life we could look to have him put down if his condition deteriorates to a point where he can't eat at all and is just suffering, but while there is a chance of preventing this I'm not willing to give that option consideration until it is the only one available to me that would be if any benefit to him.

I love my little idiot son so much, and I don't want him to be in pain any longer than he has already been. I feel a terrible amount of guilt that he might have been suffering for longer than I thought, and that I'm not in a financial position to do anything about it immediately, but it is in my power to ask for help so that's what I'm doing here.

Thank you for reading, and be assured that in the meantime Sage is getting as many cuddles as he wants (which is a lot, I assure you!)

#life blogging #cats #my darling idiot son needs dental care #and i cant afford it but i can ask for help so #here we are

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ashen-char · 3 months ago

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I'm obsessed with the idea of ani joining in the conversations about partners and bringing reader up like "they never let me cook! which is sweet but i want to cook too!" or "they drool a lot when they sleep!" in a innocent way not thinking much about the fact the other girls are talking about their partners and she just started yapping about reader like they're together.

I just know the fact she always brings reader up in partner conversations makes them even more confused when ani drops the information she's married and it's NOT with reader, like they're happy for her but 'what does she mean she's not with reader??' Yes, they tease her and joke about it but they fr think there's something going on with those two.

reader likes to sit close to anora when she's playing, they're reading a book or doing something job/studies related, stuff like that. They just like being around her either they have her attention or not, they just feel this comfortable aura coming from anora whenever she's close, she's home. You'll giggle about her getting mad at villagers and then ani looks at you annoyed because 'you're suppose to be on my side!' and you're like 'sorry, got to a funny part on the book...' and you're reading the saddest and most tragic book ever.

I think later on reader introduces ani to one or two more violent games where she can kick people's asses! probably Mortal Kombat, she'll definitely play this type of games when a client/her boss pissed her off badly on that particular day and she needs to punch someone to calm down, even if it's on a video game it helps her a lot! But she likes more the cozy games like animal crossing, stardew valley, even the sims (her favourite is the sims 2 because of all the attention to detail the game has).

You once tried to make her play an horror game (resident evil, until dawn, silent hill, amnesia) and she tried it, she really did but after some time she was like 'nop! I'm done! put my animal crossing NOW!'

About ivan, like I said his parents are to blame for a big part of who he is today but he's 21 already and that's old enough to at least KNOW not to leave your wife alone when she's fighting for a future with you against 3 MEN DOUBLE HER SIZE! like if you care about her and her safety you either runaway with her or you stay there with her! That scene is what makes me think that anora cares about him but he doesn't care about her or at least not as much, you know?

YES! There's nothing wrong with wanting to have fun and be free, you don't have to be serious all the time like life's too short for that shit, but the fact he doesn't take anything serious, never thinks before doing a joke or just the way he treats people bellow him (maybe besides anora) lacks sense, maybe even empathy, like why yell as a joke at this staff member who's apologising already for not having the room ready because 1. THEY DIDN'T KNOW YOU WERE COMING! and 2.BECAUSE IT WAS BEING USED!! it's a terrible joke, it can make that poor person lose their job if their superior happens to walk by, it lacks touch with reality too!

On the coke scene: if he had taken too much coke, mixed with the alchool and probably other drugs that shit could lead to his death or a coma! toros and garnick aren't stupid, they very likely know that ivan is using drugs and shit like that but if they don't know how much he has done/where he is how are they suppose to help him if it goes wrong? they are there to keep him alive, to keep him in line too, but mostly to keep his ass alive! You don't have to be serious 100% of your time but you also can't be 100% of your time acting like this petulant kid. ivan strikes me as someone who doesn't want to be treated like a kid and wants to be free but he hasn't shown any sense of responsibility to be able to take care of himself alone, like he can still have a kid spirit and be responsible AND sensible towards other people.

Oh i don't think he would even bother to ask anora about her past because like you pointed out he only calls her ani, she only started existing when ani did too. if ani did try to talk to him about it, open up about her past and stuff he wouldn't pay much attention, too distracted playing video games or on his phone. He would be like one of her friends boyfriends she heard so many complains about, you know?

it's a cute assumption but now I'm a little disgusted with it because of what I know... so embarrassing to me! i think with ivan she tried to keep it as much fairytale-ish as she could so she also tried to be a fairytale character, maybe because she felt the need she showed him her true self he would leave, while with igor she didn't want to/felt the need to put up a character, because he wouldn't leave since he understands her struggles.

I do agree that I prefer igor and ani over ivan and ani, like there's somehting more realistic about them, more personal and more 'honest-ish' for lack of a better word to express what I mean. I think ani needs someone a little more serious and responsible than ivan but also someone who can be carefree and I think if we had more time we could see igor being carefree around ani.

Anora only deserves the best and whatever or whoever that is I hope she's happy and at peace!

HELLO I DIDN'T MEAN TO LEAVE THIS ASK FOR SO LONG it kept cutting off when i tried to answer on mobile (which i was restricted to at the hospital) and eventually i decided to leave it until after i actually watched anora and had more formed thoughts!

ani's got a good rapport with the girls at HQ (barring diamond obviously). with how they flocked to see the fight, i bet they're pretty nosy too, listening intently to pick up on clues of if reader and ani are together. they'd have bets on it. lulu (who's basically the captain of the reader x ani ship) would scoff if anyone said reader's just ani's best friend, offended because obviously she is ani's best friend thank you very much.

sometimes when lulu invites ani out after work, ani says that you two have plans, excitedly yapping about how she's planning to decorate your shared sims' house or the ccs she downloaded. and lulu has this knowing look, cause that's so domestic? sweet? calm? not something ani would find fun if you weren't the one showing it too her. like, lulu finds ani in their backstage/changing room area on her switch, doing her daily fruit foraging in her ACNH island, probably cussing out tom nook for upping the house fee when she JUST paid the last one off. lulu knows all of ani's smiles and the ones about you/something you showed her are different to her performance smiles, to her flirty customer service. they're even different from when she's bragging about what a catch ivan is, about his mansion or how much he likes her.

how much he likes her. never the other way around. any other girl would be half in love with how vanya splashes out his time, attention, and cash. even if ani hasn't realised it herself, it's because her heart's already occupied with reader. imagine ani being away for that first week, apologising over and over to reader cause they already made plans while you just tell her it's ok. and then the next two weeks of their marriage, ani was happy and swept up in the excitement but also... restless? missing you? she busied herself with polishing up her russian, in the lavish new wardrobe and new life. in the dark of night wondering when it'll make her as happy as a simple day with you.

ivan's actually pretty interesting now that all the clips have context. he didn't run to not be caught, but more so to take in all the fun he could before he was whisked back - hitting up all the clubs, getting so drunk he wouldn't worry anymore. he didn't even plan to leave ani, fully wanted her to run with him. it was more... "consequences? what are those? boringgg". didn't wanna talk about his family, didn't wanna hear a word of reprimand from his parents, considers anything that isn't having fun as unnecessary. and especially him thanking ani for making his last trip fun as if he didn't ask her to MARRY him, when she was sceptical in the first place and told him not to tease her! she made sure he was sincere multiple times and he strung her along, pure and simple, knowing his parents wouldn't let that happen. knowing that he wouldn't actually fight his parents for it/for them.

gonna write some thoughts on ivan on another post this is getting too long and tbh i was more focused on anora :P (basically he's all about freedom and even argues back when they make a comment about him possibly marrying a man). the marriage was a fantasy to him, as is america, it's a freedom he won't actually pursue at the end of the day. not when being under his parents' thumb is easier. him being treated like a child is actually a privilege. ani's only two years older and knows so much more of responsibilities, of what it takes to earn and own things, of consequences. all vanya has to do is simper and follow his mom, childishly asking if her clothes are from the new collection rather than listening to her beratement.

i feel like if the marriage didn't collapse because of his parents, it'd be whenever ani decides she's had enough of the partying or the smoking and watching him play games. he asks about her parents, and she even offers to let them meet or go meet her sister. she wants to go to disneyworld for their honeymoon. but vanya would be the same vanya. show up drunk and blazed, embarrassing her in front of her mom and stepdad (while she covers his ass and lies "oh i swear he's not always like this, he's just tired"). ruining her childhood dream by letting his friends crash their honeymoon and trash the cinderella suite. she'd realise that this isn't perfect, that it isn't sustainable. it's fun, yes, ivan was right that they'd probably still have fun together if he wasn't rich. but imagine them going through the paperwork of getting that green card, of her trying to make him take it seriously so he can stay. applying, appointments, providing papers and proof... vanya would groan and act like ani's dragging him to do this. and he'd offer ani hits from his bong like he did to klara, never thinking about if something's the right time.

to contrast a relationship where ani would have to be the mature one, ani is notably different with igor (obviously). even if not romantically, having someone there that she can freely bitch at, let out her tension on, that accepts her moods must feel freeing. all these masks she puts on, be that at the club, or the perfect wife for vanya/his family. she's got her barbs, she's allowed to be prickly and abrasive and say whatever comes to her head. igor will laugh it off. she softened near the end (not the end end, i'm sure there's a lot of thoughts on that) when she brought him that blanket. wordlessly sharing blunts or taking the cig from his mouth, smiling when he laughs at a joke she slung to hurt his feelings. he doesn't just take it either. he asks why she says these things about him, asserts that he isn't (a gopnik, a f-slur ass bitch, a drug dealer, a rapist etc), but doesn't get mad at her for it. when toros or galina says "no, that didn't happen", it's to shut ani up, to not listen, to prove that she doesn't have a say/doesn't have power in the situation. when igor says it, it's on equal grounds-that he had to because he was genuinely scared about ani and that he didn't want her to hurt herself. AND after apologising multiple times, rather than jumping to "i didn't hurt you". it was "you were never in danger of being harmed".

#this is long im sorry folks #anora #ask #ivan zakharov #igor #anora mikheeva x reader #anora mikheeva

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