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katsukistofu · 6 months ago

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i a-door you

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ k. bakugo x fem reader. fluff. cursing. food. minor unintentional violence. ⭑ bakugo hits on you. literally.

You’re minding your business, book bag slung across your shoulder, and about to walk through the door to 2A’s classroom when something smacks you in the face.

Not only unprompted, but hard.

“Ow!”

It happens so quickly that you don’t remember squeezing your eyes shut as you stumble backwards, both hands flying to clutch your forehead.

Opening your eyes, you swear you can already feel the spot starting to bruise. The previously closed door to the classroom stood ajar and as the cherry on top of the concussion you just received, someone roughly brushes past you.

Fucking asshole.

You whip around, head still throbbing, about to give whoever it is a peace of your mind and finally speak above an inside voice for the first time since a robot almost fell on you during entrance exams semesters ago, when your teary eyes are met with crimson red ones.

He turns his head to give you a once over and your body freezes as his eyes linger a little longer on the darkening mark where the door got you. Something similar to amusement tugs at his lips.

“Pretty cute.”

You blink, dumbfounded as he casually turns on his heel to walk away.

What. The hell.

Did you literally just get hit on by Bakugo freaking Katsuki.

The identical dropped jaws of your classmates that were visible from inside the open doorway confirmed that what just happened was not in fact a post-traumatic induced hallucination, with Midoriya looking the most gobsmacked, his eyes almost comically bulging out of his skull, and upon glancing at Mina, who quickly gets over her initial shock to grin and shoot you a double thumbs up, she excitedly mouths ‘i told you so,’ and you’re not sure whether to laugh or to cry.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀:¨ ·.· ¨: ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ `· . ꔫ

The next day, you’re sporting a fresh, new bandaid on your forehead. It was quite a fashion statement, if you do say so yourself.

It was also the last one at the nurse’s so you were pretty happy to nab it, apparently being the brand that everyone chose when they too got their respective boo-boos.

The latte Mina and the girls brought back from your favorite cafe sat on the wooden coffee table in the common area, still steaming. You refused to go out with a huge bruise marring your appearance, even with the bandaid covering the most of it, and you would take the fullest advantage of the injured person princess treatment while it lasted.

All while awkwardly avoiding a certain blond.

Now that you’re thinking about it, he’s honestly always been kind of nice to you, in his own weird way.

Like when you were forced to ask if you could borrow his eraser, because apparently no one else in the class carried one. Imagine saving Japan your first year of highschool and only writing in pen, even for calculus. Is this what the future generation has come to?

After breathlessly rushing the words out in a hushed voice and wondering if he heard you at all, Bakugo doesn’t even turn around from where he’s resting his chin on his hand listening to Present Mic’s enthusiastic lecture on subject-verb agreement, as he reaches an arm behind him to drop it on your desk.

You’re not sure if you remembered to say “your” before “eraser,” so all he probably heard was “can I borrow eraser?” and it still haunts you to this day.

Shaking the thoughts of him from your mind, you flip your history textbook open to page three hundred and ninety four, ‘A Comprehensive Timeline of Quirk Generations.’ You’re attempting to study for your next upcoming quiz in Midnight’s class.

Key word: attempting.

A delicious smell was starting to waft your way from the kitchen across the room, and now you were kind of hungry. You could feel your attention waning and shook your head, the image of your most recent report card filled with straight As sobering you up. Food could come later, right now you had to focus.

Just twenty more minutes of review, then I'll eat.

Bakugo’s placing the breakfast he easily finished whipping up on the counter. As he uses a spatula to gently coax the fluffy soufflé pancakes out of the pan, he notices the familiar petals of your favorite flower decorating the ceramic he’s putting them on.

It was from a tableware set he picked out when everyone first moved into the dorms. Glasses had assigned everyone groceries among various other things to go shopping for in small groups, and he was paired up with Ponytail to go buy plates.

They were browsing the shelves of a local Daiso store filled with colorful, adorably decorated dishes and rice bowls, when he stopped in front of a price tag, eyes dragging up to study the item it belonged to. The details on it were intricate, and breathtakingly so.

It reminded him of how he felt whenever he looked at you.

Ponytail follows his gaze, and her own eyes brighten.

“Oh, it’s decorated with the favorite flower of–!”

“I know.” He cuts her off, glaring at the floral box set of bowls and plates, before carefully putting it in their cart.

Momo’s eyes widen a bit, before a small, knowing smile spreads across her lips and Bakugo curses at her perceptiveness.

He almost wished he was paired up with that icy-hot bastard instead, who was so oblivious that if you dangled a confession letter in front of him he would have thought you wanted him to proofread it for you.

That was a while ago now, and everyone’s been happily eating meals on the plates they bought ever since.

He tops off the pancakes with a handful of fresh berries and a drizzle of honey, and slides it next to a steaming plate of a kimchi omelette with a zigzag of sriracha sauce already on the counter.

From where he stands, he snorts at your bandaid, noticing the obnoxious amount of Hello Kitty’s plastered all around it. Out of all the bandaids from Recovery Girl’s collection that she kept in her office, of course you would pick the cutest fucking one.

It was undoubtedly something you would like, he thinks, begrudging in his fondness. It was so you.

“Get your ass over here.”

You jump in your spot on the couch at the loud volume of his voice, though it sounded a bit softer than usual. With a finger pointing to yourself, you raise your head in confusion. “Me….?”

Was this about yesterday? Oh my god, was he mad?

You’re not sure why he would be, since he’s not the one that got bitch-slapped in the face by a giant door.

“I don't see anyone else I'd be talking to.” Bakugo scoffs.

He's right, to your increasing dread. The entire common area is completely empty, and you have no choice but to comply with his request.

You’re still nervously fiddling with the edge of your hoodie sleeve, the usual comfort of its softness abandoning you as you approach the kitchen to find him standing at a seat near the counter, arms folded. It hasn’t even been a minute in the same proximity as him and his presence is kind of overwhelming you already.

You’re trying so hard not to stare at his biceps. And just him in general.

“Sit.” he commands, the sound of the metal stool echoing against his hand as he pats it.

You obediently sit down, cursing your lack of a backbone. But his tone didn’t sound like he was planning to take no for an answer, anyway.

“Eat.”

He jabs a thumb at the plate of warm, sweet smelling cloud-like goodness in front of you. You stare at him, wide-eyed.

“This is for me?”

“Huh. You’re slower than I thought you were.” He rolls his eyes and starts to dig into his own plate of omelette in front of him, taking a seat on the stool across from you. It looked good too, as expected. “You’re welcome or whatever.”

With his aggressive blessing and after throwing a quiet but extremely grateful ‘thank you for the meal’ his way, you start to eat.

Your face lights up in joy as the divine taste of spongy goodness and honey spreads across your tongue, and you silently praise his mom for giving birth to the next Gordon Ramsay.

He flicks your forehead as you’re mid-bite in pancake and you yelp in surprise, raising your head to glare at his handsome face. What now? And did he have to be as infuriating as he was good-looking?

That crimson gaze once again stares you down, barely contained amusement dancing in embers of the hot coals of his eyes, and your skin grows warm as you realize you said that last part out loud.

You’re about to give into the urge to run away and take the plate of half-finished pancakes with you when he gruffly speaks up.

“You can’t retain information unless you have something in your stomach, idiot.”

You nod, mouth full, and make a mental note to study on an empty tummy away from him in the future. It’s like he reads your mind because you wince as he scowls, flicking your head again, although a little more gently this time.

Taking care to do it in a spot away from the bandaid covering the injury that he caused, your brain points out.

The both of you continue to eat in comfortable silence.

After a while, your plates are nearly clean.

You smile a little, realizing that you were eating on your favorite plate in the dorm’s kitchen the whole time, and admire the petals of your beloved flowers delicately painted in the center and outer edges of the stark white dish, with the pancakes no longer covering them.

Bakugo notices this, as you softly begin to trace the rim with your finger, and fights the twitch of his lips that threatened to curl upwards.

He’s also noticed those little glances you think you’ve been discreetly throwing his way between the bites of pancake, which you nearly inhaled to his pride.

You could almost be as quiet as that rock-faced animal whisperer of a classmate you both had, but you’ve always sucked at being subtle.

Good thing he hates subtle things.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asks as you start to slide off the tall stool, a hint of smirk in his voice. It was cute, how you think you could run away from him so easily. You stop in your tracks, blinking at him as he rises from his own seat.

Strong, toned arms that you totally haven’t been staring at for the past half hour are slowly placed on both sides of you, caging you against the counter. An embarrassing noise escapes from your lips, and the cold granite bites into your back as you lean away, doing anything to avoid his gaze.

“Look at me.”

He rolls his eyes as you continue to look to the side, suddenly finding the chibi magnets of various high ranking heroes on the fridge to be very interesting.

“I said,” he grabs your chin in his hand, which was so big compared to your face that he could squish your cheeks between his ring finger and thumb, “look at me.

You huff, now forcefully held in place to face him against your will. “I’m looking.”

“Good.”

He leans down and his lips graze your ear, seeming to take great pleasure in only further adding to your embarrassment when he mutters:

“And don’t stand so fucking close to the door next time.”

not bakugo pulling the classic asian parent move and giving u food instead of a proper apology LOLL

#crosses fingers I TRIED TO MAKE HIM AS CANON AS POSSIBLE #bro would tweak if ur grades dropped bc u didn’t eat 3 meals a day LIKE HOWS HE SUPPOSED TO COMPETE W U ON THE CLASS RANKINGS NOW #i think he’d def be softer with someone he crushes on but still kinda strict slash stern ykwim #tough love babey #bakugou x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha x reader #bakugo oneshot #bnha x reader #mha oneshot #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo fluff

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lowkeyren · 2 months ago

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—catch me if you can!

in which : it’s a classic game of cat and mouse between you and moze, yet why does it seem like the mouse is enjoying the chase far more than the cat?

pairing : moze x gn!reader

wc 1.9k, exorcist x ghost, last part ib a chinese superstition (ghost marriages), u tease HIM like.. a lot, implied past lovers if u squint, art by @/darkavey, reblogs r much appreciated!! enjoy <3

"the hunter gets haunted while trying to hunt the haunter" brain stroke? yeah me too. anyway, happy halloween! dearest @https-sourlimes moze kisser + lovely @cherieiu n @iceunhie proofread this ^^

moze senses your presence long before he sees you. the flickering candle flames dance erratically, casting long, distorted shadows across the walls as if acknowledging your arrival. his instincts sharpen as he scans the room, fully aware that you're close —though unable to pinpoint where you’re hiding.

his grip on the dagger remains firm, a steady calm settling over him as he prepares, knowing you're out there, watching him from within the shadows, waiting. he starts to recite an incantation; his voice echoes through the hall, the air crackles with energy, ready to draw you out.

(after months of this relentless back-and-forth —countless of times you’ve narrowly evaded him, slipping through his fingers just when he thought he had you caught, he’s confident he finally has you in his grasp.)

the silence that follows his pause is nearly suffocating, broken only by the steady ticking of the clock. until a sudden chill slithers down his spine, accompanied by a soft, teasing whisper near his ear, so close it feels as if lips are hovering just above his skin, “were you hoping i’d appear just for you?”

moze swears he can see you smiling through the reflection of his dagger.

instinctively, he spins around, heart racing, adrenaline surging through his veins —only to find nothing. the room is exactly as it was, albeit this time the ticking has stopped, and the candles in the room start to flicker, before the room goes completely dark.

he hurriedly scrambles to find a match, striking it to bring a flicker of light to illuminate the dark room, but his breath catches in his throat when he finds your face just inches away from his.

“boo—!” he’s unsure if his heart is racing from the shock of your sudden appearance or from your close proximity, perhaps it’s a mix of both. any closer and you would've…

he quickly composes himself and swings his dagger, aiming right for your chest —only for the metal to pass right through you. he stumbles back. “really, moze?”

“you should know by now that these basic rituals don’t work on me.” you tilt your head at him, a playful smile tugging at your lips, your eyes gleaming with mischief. “you wretched—” he begins through gritted teeth; you gently place a finger on his lips, the ghostly touch silencing him instantly.

“better luck next time, pretty boy.”

his eye narrows at the nickname, a mix of exasperation and a flutter in his chest he can't quite put a finger on. he raises his dagger in a futile attempt to strike, but by then, you’ve already disappeared into a whirl of mist, leaving him grasping at nothing but the lingering echo of your laughter.

moze isn’t able to get a wink of sleep.

pretty boy? he scoffs at the thought, not sure whether he should feel insulted that you called him a boy, or focus on the fact that you called him pretty.

he shifts in his bed uncomfortably, trying to dismiss the strange flutter in his chest, but it’s no use. every time he closes his eyes, you're there —hovering at the edge of his thoughts, as if you’re haunting him (when he’s supposed to be the one hunting you.)

the memory of your teasing voice and the glint in your eyes keeps pulling him back from slumber, making him question why, of all things that happened today, that’s what stuck with him.

moze is anything but weak, renowned for his skill, his expertise is unmatched; yet of all the spirits he's faced —some stubborn, some cunning —none have been as elusive as you.

what makes you so different, so maddeningly irresistible?

but now that he thinks about it, you’ve never attacked him, not once. it’s always him on the offensive; chasing, striking, trying to pin you down. while you, on the other hand, merely tease and toy with him, calling him those pet names that feel far too intimate for mere “enemies” before disappearing into thin air.

breaking his line of thought, a soft giggle reverberates through the hall, a sound both familiar and infuriating.

…ah right, focus.

he scans the shadows, every inch of the room, but finds nothing. “come out, i know you’re here!” he calls out, frustration creeping into his tone. you’re playing your games again, always just beyond his grasp, a tantalising wisp of a spirit who knows precisely how to keep him on edge.

in the dark, you closely observe moze. you notice the subtle rise and fall of his breath; he’s tense, exasperated, and yet something in his eyes betrays that flicker of intrigue he tries so hard to bury. it’s almost endearing, the way he’s so wound up, yet completely at your mercy.

“you can't hide forever,” he growls, his voice low, the sound echoing through the empty room. "show yourself, or i’ll—”

“you’ll do what, exactly?” you whisper from just behind him, a teasing murmur that brushes past his ear, vanishing as soon as he whips around to strike. “you’ve had a hundred chances to exorcise me, but you still can’t bring yourself to let go.”

“i’ll finish what i started,” he scowls, though it sounds more like a threat than a promise.

“so you say, but deep down? i think you’re starting to like this little chase of ours. are you sure you’re not the one who keeps coming back to me?"

—you swear you catch the slightest twitch in his expression.

“don’t flatter yourself," he mutters, though his words don’t quite carry the same conviction.

"then why do you look for me?" you tease, circling around him like mist, your voice a gentle taunt in his ear. "it’s not duty that brings you here every night, is it, moze?"

he’s known many spirits, but this —you, are something else.

as he stands there, lost in thought, you whistle from the end of the hall, your voice ringing out like a beckoning call. “over here, pretty boy.”

he fights the urge to smile at your audacity, the playful lilt of your voice slipping under his skin. “what are you playing at?”

“nothing, i just want to see how far you’ll go,” you reply, your voice laced with mischief as you linger just out of reach. “come catch me if you can.”

with that, you vanish into the shadows, leaving him standing there, heart racing, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within him. he steels himself, adrenaline kicking in as he begins his pursuit once more, knowing that this game is far from over.

“i know you’re here,” he murmurs to the empty space, half hoping for a response, half expecting you to just flit out from a corner without warning.

just then, a sudden chill envelops him as your cool hand gently obscures his vision, he feels icy fingers trail along his skin, teasingly tracing a path from the nape of his neck down to his shoulders and across his chest, sending shivers coursing through him.

a huff of cold air brushes against his cheeks, delicate and fleeting, like the whisper of a lover's breath. it lingers just above his skin, as if someone exhaled right beside his face.

(every fiber of his being yearns to call it a night, and maybe it's the exhaustion washing for him but… for a ghost, you sure smell good.)

he feels a cold touch on his neck, and he knows damn well that it isn't your hand, because one of your hands is still covering his eyes, while the other rests on his chest, fingers splayed across his palpitating heart. a gentle nip leaves behind a chill, igniting his senses and drawing a soft gasp from his lips.

his grip on the dagger falters, the weapon clattering to the floor as if it’s nothing more than weightless feathers. one hand finds its way to your waist, pulling you closer. the other instinctively lifts to your wrist, gently prying your fingers away from his eyes.

“don’t hide,” he murmurs, his voice more of a plea than a challenge, as if he craves the clarity of your presence more than the thrill of the chase.

“you want me to look at you?” you tease, a familiar smirk gracing your lips.

he’s acutely aware of how your body fits against his, the way your cold body contrasts with the heat radiating from him. “yes,” he replies, there’s a softness in his eyes, his gaze traces over you, as if to will you into life.

you lean in closer, the space between you narrowing until it feels like you’re suspended in time, and he realises he doesn’t want this game to end. not yet. not ever.

in xianzhou, there's a superstition —a whispered belief, if you will; that picking up money from the ground can bring bad luck, or worse yet, lead to an "accidental marriage" with a ghost. accepting the money, it’s said, forms an unintended bond between the person and the spirit who left it behind.

moze is well aware of this. he’s also very aware of the strales scattered across the ground in front of him, seemingly waiting for him to make a choice.

he glances around, though he’s not entirely sure why; deep down, he already knows there’s only one person who could be behind this.

“not today,” he mutters under his breath, though the way his heart quickens suggests he’s not as resolute as he wants to be. “why are you messing with me like this?”

a soft giggle echoes in response, light and airy, as if carried on the wind. “it's fun watching you squirm,” you tease, your voice carrying a haunting ring that lingers in the air.

he narrows his eyes, trying to shake off the feeling that clings to him— “i don’t believe in superstitions.” —yet a faint, stubborn “unease” still twists in his chest.

“is that so?” you reply, amusement dripping from every syllable. “then prove it. show me how brave you are.”

his own heart betrays him with its racing beat.

“fine, if you’re so keen on games, i’ll play.” he hopes the sound of his boots scuffing against the floor will mask the frantic beating of his heart.

but as he reaches out, the air around him cools, prickling the skin at his nape. your presence looms close, closer than ever. “...are you sure?” you murmur, the amusement in your voice giving way to something softer.

his fingers twitch, as the cold sinks deeper, prickling through his skin and settling somewhere far more vulnerable. “i’m sure.” he’s teetering on the edge of something dangerously familiar, a reminder of a time when your touch was warm, alive.

“i wonder, will you regret it?”

he glances over his shoulder, feeling your chill wrap around him like a shroud. his hand hovers above the strales, fingertips just grazing the metal. “only if you give me a reason to.”

"careful what you ask for,” you whisper. and he closes his eyes, unable to deny the ache that resurfaces, raw and unbidden.

what makes you so different, so maddeningly irresistible? it’s a foolish question, yet he knows the answer lies within your eyes. he can’t help but wonder if, when he opens his eyes to meet yours, he’ll be stepping closer to salvation.

MASTERLIST.

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ichorai · 5 months ago

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i'm not made by design ; part two ; jaime lannister.

part one.

pairing ; jaime lannister x stark!reader (she/her pronouns)

synopsis ; wolves and lions tend not to be friends, much less lovers.

words ; 9.0k

themes ; heavy angst, action, fluff, (actual) enemies to lovers, slowburn

warnings / includes ; war/murder/injury, this part covers a few events from a feast for crows, politicking, mentions of incest/rape, foul language, animal cruelty, a lot of generally terrible things going on but what else can you expect from asoiaf, lots of dreams, jaime is a morally grey delight in this part yes, they are being HAUNTED by each other!

a/n ; wow, it's been a long time coming! ok i know this part is quite short and doesn't yet get to where you guys probably want to be, but tumblr has a max limit of 1k text blocks per post now (boo everyone throw tomatoes) so i'll be posting the rest of the story in smaller chunks! expect the third part to be coming soon, and i promise part three will start off exactly where you guys want it to be :) also if any of you can spot any sort of parallels in this part i will kiss you on the Mouth .

main masterlist. read on ao3!

The wintry breeze tousled the two young Stark girls’ hair, whispering frost into their ears. The horse the two were riding whickered as it galloped through the snow. Lyanna was exclaiming something, something lost to the wind, and you only held all the tighter to her from behind.

“Lyanna, I want to get off!” you yelled, tugging at the furs draped over her. “Lyanna, let me off!”

Your older sister laughed some more. Not wickedly, but more out of fond amusement. She slowed the horse down to a languid canter, then to a trot, and led the stallion towards the shade of a tree. There was snow blanketing the branches and the grass which crunched beneath her weight as she swung down. She looked up at you with her large grey eyes, crinkled at the corners as she grinned boyishly. “Were you frightened?”

You held your arms out for your sister to help you down. Only at eight years of age, you were still of short stature, and Lyanna had picked a rather tall horse. She had always been a voracious rider, even more so than all your brothers.

“I wasn’t frightened,” you indignantly replied as she wrapped her arms about your waist and pulled you down onto the ground.

“Right.” She began to stroke the stallion’s mane, his hooves pawing at the snow. “Do you not trust me, then? Did you think I would ride us right off the edge of a cliff?”

“No,” you replied, scuffing your boots against the snow. “I don’t like riding from behind. I can’t see anything from back there.”

There was a moment of silence before Lyanna reached over to ruffle your hair—an action that both she and Benjen often did. Eddard and Brandon often spared you from such irritations, but being the youngest of the family, you were always doted on and hovered over and babied.

“I don’t trust you riding a horse as big as this, so I suppose we can walk back. It’s not too far.”

“Why can’t I just sit in front of you?”

Your sister stuck her tongue out at you. “We’ve got something in common, you know. What makes you think I like sitting behind?” When you glowered at her, she went on, “Let’s get a move on. Ned will complain that I’m stealing you away—especially since he’s just returned. He misses you. Your letters grow briefer and briefer, he tells me.”

You were none too happy about trudging through the snow, but you voiced no complaint and walked alongside your sister, who tugged at the horse’s reins to follow along.

“He’s always going back and forth,” you said, a small frown marring your features. “I wish he would just stay home. The Eyrie couldn’t possibly compare to Winterfell.”

“You know him.” Lyanna’s dark hair was speckled with snowflakes as she turned to you. “Studious and dutiful as ever.” Her voice went an octave deeper and she pulled a mockingly somber expression in a startling resemblance to Ned. You let out a small laugh at that.

“Last time he visited, you were betrothed,” you said, your voice shrinking to a whisper.

The amusement died away from her eyes, turning stony. “Yes. Though I doubt it will be a fruitful union.”

There were a few more seconds of silence as you considered her words, not entirely sure why she would think so. Robert was loud and robust the few times you’ve met him, but you knew little else of Ned’s friend.

“Do you think he’ll bring a wedding proposal for me this time?”

Lyanna’s features contorted with surprise. “Why? Do you want to be married?”

Your cheeks flushed with heat, despite the frost settling over your skin. “Well—if Father says I have to, then I will.”

“I didn’t ask about Father,” replied Lyanna. It was hard for her to believe that you were only eight sometimes. You always tried to act older than you actually were. “I asked about you.”

Winterfell grew larger and larger as the two of you drew nearer to the castle gates. Home.

“I don’t think I’d mind getting married,” you told your sister, eyes downcast and brows pulled together in thought. “As long as I get to stay in Winterfell. I never want to leave.”

Lyanna smiled, all teeth and cheek. “Wouldn’t that be a dream?” she sighed.

The rest of the short journey was made in relative silence, and you left your sister and the tall stallion by the stables (not without her ruffling your hair one last time), and you dashed up to the castle chambers where you knew Ned would be.

He carried no proposals, only a few books he thought you would enjoy and a warm hug.

You awoke with a startled gasp, kicking at the thin blanket that laid over your form. It took you several moments to realize where you were. A boat. Rocking steadily, back and forth and back and forth. You rubbed at your sleepy eyes whilst drawing your knees up to your chest, still blinking away remnants of your dream.

Lyanna. Ned. Still young, still practically children.

One of the tongueless little birds stood in the doorway. It was an ominous sight. Her eyes were large and unblinking, glinting like glass balls within her small head. In her hands was a wooden bowl, full of what looked to be a poultice of sorts. She drew nearer, and the heavy scent of honey and flowers reached your nose.

“What is it?” you asked the child, a coil of pity winding in the pit of your stomach. You knew they couldn’t respond—Varys had stolen not only their youth, but their voices, too. “Is this food?”

A foreign delicacy of sorts, maybe? An Essosi dessert you weren’t familiar with, perhaps. It looked quite unappetizing, though you knew you had no room to complain.

The girl shook her head, then pointed to your hair, which was pulled back into a braid. You understood from just that, and nodded your thanks while accepting the bowl from her. This was hair dye, made from a blend of flowers and other substances you couldn’t name. You supposed it was a necessary precaution—you had an unmistakable Northern look to you, and would surely stick out like a sore thumb here down South. Dyeing your hair and cutting it short would help to somewhat conceal your identity. Short enough, and perhaps you could even be mistaken for a man, at least at a first quick glance.

The little girl left a dagger and a small, rusty, hand-held mirror by your legs and disappeared from your cabin in complete silence, as if she was never there in the first place. They were like ghosts, this crew of children. Everything was so quiet all the time, with only your thoughts and the ocean waves to accompany you.

You unbraided your hair and shook it loose. Hair carried memories. Memories of Catelyn showing you how hair was done in the Riverlands, memories of Benjen tugging at your hair to tease you, memories of Jaime commenting on how your hair was a lovely shade of animal waste. That had been grumpily remarked earlier on, when you and Brienne were escorting him to King’s Landing. Before Locke and Roose Bolton and… Robb.

You propped up the rust-spotted mirror against the wall and scooped up the dagger. The reflection that met you was only barely recognizable. You looked so tired. With a resigned sigh, you began to slice off your hair with the sharp blade. Handfuls fell to the ground. You sliced and sliced until your head felt light and your neck was bare. It’s never been this short before. If Benjen were here, you knew he would surely laugh at you. Brandon would comment that he never knew he had another brother.

Yes, you thought. I can surely pass as a man if I wanted to. Though you certainly shared many features with your sister, you hadn’t the wild beauty Lyanna had. No, you were far plainer than her, colder and sharper than she was. Nothing worthy to note—though your father, quiet as a man he was, once told you that you looked the most like your mother out of all your siblings. That had made you feel more beautiful than anything.

Plain was good, though. Plain meant no eyes would be drawn to you.

You weren’t too sure what color your hair would turn with this dye. You lathered the thick paste over your newly-cut strands, massaging it into your scalp. Your nose twitched from the strong odor—not entirely unpleasant, but also wasn’t a delight breathing in.

As you rinsed your hands of the dye, your skin was left with a slight copperish stain. You stared at the color with sad eyes—would your hair turn out red like Cat’s? Like all your nephews and Sansa?

And, like a fool, you wondered if Jaime would like short, red hair. He wouldn’t care much, you found yourself thinking, perhaps wishfully so. Did you want him to care?

Two children brought you food—rations of dried meat and crusty bread. You wolfed half of it down and handed them the other half. Though they couldn’t speak, the children made for pleasant company. Or perhaps you were just lonely. It was hard to tell.

After eating, you rinsed out the hair dye and wrung the water out with a cloth over the edge of the ship. The cloth came away stained bright red. You retreated back into the cabin to look at the mirror.

It was a shock to see your hair resemble Catelyn’s. It was darker than hers had been, but the auburn, orange-red sheen to your head was unmistakable. You looked like a Tully! You nearly laughed with amazement, but any sort of joy was short-lived, and you lapsed into more silence.

You laid on the rickety bed, thinking of Winterfell and your now-scattered family. Robb and Ned and Cat and the younglings Bran and Rickon might have been taken from you, but… you still had family left. Sansa and Arya could very well be scattered somewhere in the Seven Kingdoms, alive and breathing. Jon, at the Wall, as well. At least, you hoped. It’d been so long since your time sending letters to the young boy. Was he hurt that you stopped sending them so suddenly?

Tears pricked the corner of your eyes, and you drew your knees to your chest, willing yourself into a restless slumber.

Days came and went. The little children were growing more agitated, fluttering about the boat with wide eyes and quick feet. They tossed nets overboard into the water—masquerading the boat as a fishing vessel, you assumed. There were many ships out and about Blackwater Bay. Some carried banners of houses loyal to the crown, and others were bannerless. Pirates or fishermen, you couldn’t tell.

So far, all other ships have passed by quietly. But the risk grew with each day. You knew Tywin and Cersei would likely order more fleets to be sent after you, Sansa, and Tyrion. The chances of you being found on water would grow each day—and you couldn’t risk becoming a prisoner again. Jaime wouldn’t be able to help you escape a second time, not with Cersei around.

At least on foot… you had somewhere to run. Being on sea left you nothing but water for miles on end.

And so you told the silent children to let you off at the nearest fishing port. Some part of you wondered if they would object, but they stared at you with round, moon eyes and nodded. You didn’t know whether to thank or damn Varys.

The ship docked in the dead of night, half a mile from Duskendale. One of the little children handed you a map and tapped at where they’d leave you. A pouch full of food rations, more dye, and other necessities was left on your cot. You thanked the child endlessly, who seemed not to hear your gratitude and scuttled away. You grabbed the pouch, the dagger, the bow and quiver full of arrows Varys had presumably left you, and slipped into a large cloak.

Land felt like it was lurching beneath your feet once you stepped onto the pier. Your body was used to the swaying motions of the waters, and would take some time to adjust. You gingerly shook one of your booted feet. The children watched you disembark on wobbly legs, but you dared not wave back at them.

Despite it being nighttime, the docks were busier than ever. Fishermen and merchants littered all over the shore, some selling products and entertainment and others working hard to gather more to sell before day broke. You steeled yourself with a deep breath, and made your way through the busy crowd.

You began trekking your way North towards the Eyrie, the hood of your cloak pulled over your short, red hair.

It took nearly three weeks for you to reach the Crossroads. Nightfall was nearing when you strode in front of the inn, the sky a mirage of bleeding reds from the setting sun and moody greys from the rainclouds. The air smelled of mud and rusted metal. It was certainly no grand castle, but a modest bed was better than sleeping on the cold dirt you’ve been curled up on the past several days. There was a young girl and a dark-haired boy by the front that looked somewhat like your memory of Robert Baratheon twenty-some years ago. At first, the boy denied your request for shelter, but reluctantly clammed up once you offered him some gold, worth more than it ever could in times of war. The two let you pass with not a word more.

Greeting you inside was a ruckus of loud children. Parentless, you realized, as there were none to be seen within the inn’s walls. An inn full of orphans, you thought with a touch of sadness. In that regard you supposed you shared a similarity with all of them.

Just as you slipped onto one of the creaking wooden stools to momentarily rest your weary feet, you overheard a voice. A familiar voice. Low and raspy and unmistakably—

Brienne, you thought, wide-eyed. But she wasn’t alone. A young boy was by her side, yes, that was Podrick, and an older man—a knight, by the looks of his armor, and an even older septon with grey hair and a hunched back. What a queer party Brienne was leading. She was supping on porridge and salted cod.

The impulsive part of you wanted to call out for her and rush to her side, ask if she had found any sign of Sansa, or if she had made any progress on her quest. Instead, you drew in a deep breath, and stood from your stool to take a seat across from Podrick whilst Brienne was busy speaking to the knight. The young squire made a half-gasping, half-choking noise once his eyes raised from the cup he was draining to your cold eyes, recognizing you immediately. You discreetly lifted a finger to your lips to silence him. His eyes went moon-round and he nodded once.

Brienne ignored the knight’s constant jabbering about lips and marriage and castles full of children, and turned to look at her squire in mild concern of him choking on a fish bone. But her eyes landed on you, and her mouth dropped open.

She was very near to bowing her head and saying, “My lady.” But she didn’t, knowing it would draw far too much attention, and stared at you with utter confusion plain over her features.

“Hello,” you said to her. “It has been a while, Brienne.”

“Do you know each other?” the knight bumped in. He spooned some porridge into his mouth.

“Brienne and I were childhood friends on Tarth,” you lied. “I was the son of a cook. A nobody in truth, but Brienne was kind enough to befriend me.”

Brienne was no good at lying, you knew this, but she nodded along to your story.

The knight looked you over. “A little runt boy and a grand beast of a girl. The two of you must have been a sight.”

You could only offer him half a shrug at that.

“What brings you here?” Brienne carefully asked you.

“Someone helped me leave,” you responded with equal caution. Avoiding the knight’s curious eyes, you leaned closer to Brienne. “Is there a place for us to speak with fewer naked children milling about?”

Being around Varys’ little birds for long enough taught you that children were oft smarter than they looked. Somewhere to your right, you saw one of the little orphan boys stick a nut inside his nostril.

Brienne nodded and led you just outside, away from prying ears and eyes. There, you told her everything. From Tyrion’s trial, to Oberyn’s death, to Cersei demanding you to be locked up or killed (whichever suited her taste that day), to Jaime helping you escape, to the birds on the boat, to your journey here. In turn, Brienne told you of her lengthy journey and what she had found on the way. Mostly nothing, lots of war and skirmishes. Sandor Clegane was dead, but Arya had been with him soon before that… not Sansa. The thought of Arya somewhere out there alive, sparked dangerous hope within your chest.

“Varys says Sansa is in the Eyrie, masquerading as Baelish’s bastard daughter.” The thought revolted you. “But I do wonder if the Eyrie is a trap of sorts. I cannot trust Varys. He certainly is no friend of the Lannisters, but neither is he their enemy. For all I know, he may be conspiring with dragons and grumpkins.”

“Sansa would be safe with her Aunt Lysa there, right?” Brienne asked, though even she sounded doubtful of her own question.

“I can’t quite say,” you said, brows furrowed. “Lysa is an unpredictable woman. Frightened and secluded is never a good combination of characteristics. Even so, I doubt Sansa would make her way home up North without being intercepted. It wouldn’t hurt to check the Vale first.”

Brienne nodded solemnly. “We can make our way first thing in the morning. For now, you must rest, my lady. You must be exhausted.”

The sudden reminder of the limitations of your body made your knees wobble. The past few days had you running on little else than adrenaline, fear, and meager portions of salted foods.

“I missed you, Brienne,” you whispered, looking up at her. “I fear trusted friends are few and far in between in these times.” Not that you ever had many friends to begin with. Everyone had always been so afraid of you—something Brienne could relate to.

The term friend dusted pink over Brienne’s large, crooked nose and broad, freckled cheekbones. She was certainly not pretty, not by a long shot, but that was of no matter to you. She was the most beautiful blessing you could have possibly encountered—your chances of survival and finding Sansa were far better with Brienne by your side.

“I missed you, as well,” Brienne managed to choke out after many moments of stunned silence. She had never been good with niceties. “Podrick has been company enough, but the boy is young and easily frightened.”

“I’m frightened, too,” you admitted. “One would be a fool not to be, with enemies at every turn. Young, however, is a trait I have long outgrown.”

Brienne looked up at the night sky. “Youth was a curse on me. I always looked older than I was.”

“Me, as well,” you mused with a thoughtful hum. Memories of the lords and ladies living at Winterfell’s court whispering behind your back… sending you strange looks of distant pity… veering far out of your way in fear of you… it weighed heavy on you, especially in your younger years. “My anger has aged me a decade, I think.”

Before Brienne could respond, there came a commotion of noise. Men on horses, their hooves schlocking through mud and puddles. Instinctively, you drew the cowl of your hood up over your head. They are armed, these men, you thought with grim unease. And there were many of them, just above half a dozen. Far too many for you and Brienne to take alone.

Brienne drew in a sharp breath at the sight of them and unsheathed Oathkeeper. She stepped in front of you before you could even begin to react. The biggest man of the party was so hefty that his beaten horse buckled and shook beneath the sheer force of his weight. His pale face was torn and wept with pus and blood. But Brienne’s eyes were drawn to his snarling helm—with its dull metal nose and sharp teeth of steel. It was the Hound’s property but the man wearing it was certainly no Hound.

The sky grew darker and the storm clouds thundered up above. The young girl that had greeted you into the inn had slammed the door open, now holding a crossbow. Whatever she was screaming was lost to the rain and thunder.

“Loose a quarrel at me and I’ll shove that crossbow up your cunt and fuck you with it. Then I’ll pop your fucking eyes out and make you eat them,” raged the man, his voice nearly as loud as the booming in the sky. Your chest rose and fell in silence as you slowly reached behind you to unsling your bow.

“Leave her be,” called out Brienne, drawing their attention. “If you want to rape someone, try me.”

The outlaws laughed and chortled at that. One japed about fucking horses before fucking her. The rest of their words were unintelligible to you as you focused on drawing an arrow without pulling too much attention to yourself. It proved to be a difficult task when there were seven pairs of eyes trained on Brienne, and, consequently, you, as well.

Brienne said something you couldn’t catch, leaving the man with the helm fuming. He charged forward through the mud. Brienne shuffled away from you—she needed the man to come to her, but not to get too close to you. You were her priority now.

A song of steel screeched through the rain-torn wind as their swords clashed. Brienne managed to cut through the rags of his tunic and slash a gaping hole in his cheap chainmail just before she just barely evaded his swinging axe. The man was screaming expletives at her—whore, bitch, freak.

You nocked the arrow with not a second thought.

Then the drawstring was split in two and you were left with a useless bow. One of the outlaws had made his way to you whilst you were concentrating on the man with the helm—and broke your favored weapon.

“Shhh,” he crooned as he laid the cold, wet blade of the knife he used to cut your bow against your throat. “Enjoy and watch the show, boy.” He must have thought you were one of the orphans that lived here—and not much of a threat, considering he pulled the knife away from you and made a show of pointing it towards Brienne and her attacker. “It’s not every day you see a woman like her battle a man like him.”

You nodded, playing along. You still had the dagger you used to cut your hair tucked against your hip. It was a touch too dull for your liking, but it would have to do for now. You had no other choice. With the man’s eyes drawn back to their messy duel, you drew its blade and drove it forth, straight into throat. His arms flailed for a second before clawing at your face and chest. Pain bloomed over your skin. If you were bleeding, you couldn’t feel it—not with all the rain pouring over you. You savagely tore the dagger out from his throat and drove it through his chest again and again and again. From your peripheral vision, you could see Brienne parry over and over, stab this way and that—and finally skewer her longsword straight through him until its pointy end protruded out his back.

You continued stabbing the man until he fell to the ground in a limp, bloodied heap. Even then you didn’t stop—straddling his waist and bringing the dagger down in furious strokes. It occurred to you that the other men would be upon Brienne a second too late—when you swung around, she was swarmed by the rest of them.

“Eddard!” she called, immediately halting you in your assault on the long-dead outlaw. It took you a moment to realize that she was addressing you, not wanting to call out your actual name. “Run! Run, now!”

Two of the outlaws were coming towards you.

“Brienne!” you yelled just as one of them sliced a cut through her shoulder she couldn’t properly roll away from. The rest of your protests caught in your throat when you watched one of them—one with wild eyes that had irises too small and teeth filed sharp—dive forward onto Brienne, sending her crashing to the ground. He bit a chunk of her face right off.

More men surrounded her. Punching, kicking, and slicing at your friend. No, you couldn’t see her anymore, where is she? Get up, Brienne, get up…

“GO!” you could hear her muffled voice scream. “NED, GO!”

No, no, no…

But if you stayed, you would be dead, as well. One of the outlaws made a grab for you, but you danced back. If not for the two slipping on the watery mud the very next second, you would have been dead.

With your heart beating in your throat, you turned on your heel and fled.

What was a kingsguard without his king? Jaime hadn’t been happy to be sent off to the Riverlands again—his place was beside Tommen. The boy-king with a golden crown sitting atop his golden curls. Cersei had insisted on him leaving, however. She’d grown more restless, more paranoid, more snappy since their father’s death. Lancel, his fool of a cousin, was now a religious fanatic who seemed to be intent on fasting until he passed from starvation, and had confessed his sins of lying with Cersei. Apparently he was not the only one. The Kettleblack brothers, the court fools, and hells, even serving girls, if word of mouth was to be trusted.

He felt a fool for ever loving her. And now she had kicked him out of the castle and away from his duty like one would a dirty mongrel.

Let her run the kingdom to ruin. See if I care.

Jaime wearily pulled at his face. That was the problem—he did care, and he knew he did. Cersei on the throne would mean little good for anybody. Not for his little brother, not for Brienne, not for you. He hoped you were safe, wherever you were.

The knight with one hand had had a long day, even though it was not yet nightfall. He had spoken to the Blackfish, Brynden Tully, in hopes of making some sort of negotiation. Perhaps goad him into a duel of single-combat and spare everyone of the grueling boredom that came with a slow siege. Expectedly, the wind-beaten lord took none of the bait and retreated back into his castle. Then, he had a short, but explosive council meeting with a few of the riverlords. They squabbled over each other like mindless birds over a piece of half-baked bread. Jaime couldn’t help but wonder what his father would do in his shoes, but was quick to relinquish such a thought. Tywin Lannister would never be in this position in the first place. And he was dead, which was perhaps the more important bit. After the council, he paid a visit to Ryman Frey, who was preoccupied fucking some whore who called herself a Queen. He had the big oaf dismissed for wasting so much time and resources, then named his son, Edwyn, command of the siege. He ordered young Edwyn to tell his great-grandsire, Walder Frey, to release all the prisoners for the crown. There was no undoing the Red Wedding, but he could, at the very least, attempt to rectify the troubles it left in its wake.

And now—now Jaime had one more person to visit.

It was his aunt, Genna Lannister, who had urged Jaime to do something about the sullen man with the noose loosely wrapped around his throat. In his state, he posed no danger physically. As a symbol, however, Edmure Tully, was a great danger to the cause. His cause? Jaime wasn’t entirely sure what he was fighting for anymore. It certainly didn’t feel like he was protecting Tommen from all these leagues away from him. His golden hand felt so very heavy strapped onto his stump—why did he still bother carrying it around?

Ilyn Payne made quick work of cutting Edmure Tully down from the wooden gallows he was perched upon. His hair, scraggly and red, hung in limp clumps over his dirtied, bloody face. Eyes deep blue, heavy with exhaustion. Jaime couldn’t help but think of Robb Stark at the sight of him. Gods, they looked alike.

Jaime had Edmure pulled through the tents and mass of Freys and other rivermen alike. One japed about a fish on a leash. A young man holding an instrument was amongst the throng of stares, and he ordered the singer to follow, and the lad obediently did. Onto a ferry they went, where the vessel would carry them to Tumblestone.

“Why?” Edmure has croaked, gripping weakly onto Jaime’s arm.

“Consider it a wedding gift,” Jaime replied.

The Tully eyed him warily. “A wedding gift?”

“I’ve heard your wife is pretty. She’d have to be, for the two of you to be abed whilst your sister and king were being murdered.” Jaime gave him a wry look.

“I never knew. There were musicians outside the bedchamber, I couldn’t…”

“I’m sure Lady Roslin made for a grand distraction, as well.”

At the crass insinuation, however truthful, Edmure frowned and pulled away from the knight. “They made her do it. She had little say in the matter. Roslin never wanted any of it to happen. She wept the entire night, but I thought…”

“You thought it was your rampant manhood that swayed her to tears? It’s a sight any woman would weep to, I’m sure.”

Edmure hung his head. “She is carrying my child.”

Your child or your death? Jaime thought, but tastefully decided not to say it out loud. Not yet. Instead, he asked, “Your king-nephew, Robb. Did he ever speak of his aunt before his end?”

Edmure lifted his gaze to the kingslayer at that. “The Bitter Wolf?” He thought for a moment, eyes distant. “No. She was hardly ever brought up. Robb didn’t like to speak of her. Not after her betrayal with your freedom. If he did speak of her, it would’ve been with Catelyn.”

“Who is now dead,” Jaime dryly said.

“Yes,” Edmured replied, letting his gaze drift down to the waters.

“Much help you are.”

“Where is she now? The Bitter Wolf.”

Jaime saw no point in lying to him. “I don’t know.”

The rest of the ferry trip was spent in silence.

Once at his pavilion, Jaime dismissed Ilyn, but kept the singer around. He ordered the servants there to boil bathwater for the honored guest, and had clean garments brought to him, along with warm food and sweet wine. Edmure still couldn’t quite comprehend why exactly Jaime Lannister was being so courteous, but couldn’t deny himself the pleasure of cleanliness. He clambered into the tub and started scrubbing the grime off his skin.

Jaime pulled up a chair to sit beside him. “After you’re clean and your belly is full, you will be escorted to Riverrun. What happens after that is up to you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t,” said Jaime. “Your uncle is old. Valiant, admittedly, but his best years are behind him. He has no wife to grieve for him, nor children to succeed him. A good death is the most the Blackfish can wish for. You, however, have many years remaining to you. You are the rightful heir to House Tully, not him. Your uncle serves you, by law. Riverrun’s fate is in your hands.”

Edmure blinked at him. “I don’t…”

“Understand, I presume? All that time with a rope around your neck must have strangled you of all your wits.” Jaime was growing impatient. “You must yield the castle. Yield, and nobody dies. The smallfolk will be allowed to leave in peace, or they may serve Lord Emmon and his lady-wife, my aunt. Ser Brynden will be allowed to take the black and join the Night’s Watch, with as many of the garrison that choose to join. You, as well. The Wall is in dire need of more hands, I’ve heard. If that is not to your tastes, you may go to Casterly Rock as my captive and enjoy all the comforts and courtesy that befits a hostage of your rank. Your wife may join you. If your sire is a boy, he will serve House Lannister as a squire. Once he comes of age, he is welcome to earn his knighthood, along with some lands I will bestow upon him. If Roslin bears you a daughter, she will be well dowered until she is old enough to wed a fitting lord. You may be granted parole, even, once the war is done. All this only if you yield the castle.”

The water steamed and sloshed in the tub as Edmure gingerly shifted about. “And if I will not yield?”

The servants and squires were all listening. The singer watched the two speak with wide eyes. No matter. Let them all hear it.

“You’ve seen our numbers, Edmure. The ladders, the towers, the trebuchets, the rams. If I speak the command, my cousin will bridge your moat and break your gate. Blood will spill. Hundreds will die, most being your own people. Your former bannermen will be the first wave of attackers, so you will start your day by killing fathers, brothers, and sons of men who died for you at the Twins. The second wave will be Freys, and there are plenty of them to spare. My westermen will be the third once your archers are exhausted of arrows and your knights so weary their blades will no longer lift from the ground. The castle will fall, and all inside will be put to the sword. Your livestock will be butchered. Your river will rot with corpses. Your godswood will fall. Your keeps and inventories will burn.” Jaime swallowed as he said the next words. It was true that he did not actually mean to do it, but a threat was a threat, and words are wind. “Your wife may have the child before any of this. You’ll want the babe, I presume. I can send him to you once he’s born. With a trebuchet.”

There came a lengthy silence. Edmure was still in the bath. All the servants and squires stared in horror.

Genna had told him earlier that he was not his father’s son. Tyrion was more Tywin’s than he could ever dream to be. Would her mind change if she had heard his speech? Was this what Tywin would have done?

“I could climb out of this tub and kill you right as you are, Kingslayer,” said Edmure, once he finally regained his wits about him.

“You could try,” Jaime calmly replied. The man made no move, so Jaime pushed himself back to his feet. “Enjoy your food. Singer, play for our guest while he eats. You know the song, I trust.”

“The one about rain? Yes, my lord, I know it.”

Edmure’s head swiveled between the singer and Jaime. “No. I don’t want him. Get him away from me.” The tub water sloshed some more.

“Why, it’s just a song, Lord Tully,” said Jaime, feigning innocence. “His voice couldn’t be that bad.”

The knight left his pavilion with the beginnings of Rains of Castamere playing faintly behind him.

The inns you came across the road were growing sparse. Many had been torched, ransacked, abandoned, or torn down. War left much of the Riverlands in ruins. Though you were none too happy about the state of the lands, pillaged, empty villages meant there would be fewer people loitering about, which was all the better for you.

You had managed to outrun the outlaws through the cover of the storm and ruins. It was only when the rain cleared away did you let yourself sit down and silently cry for Brienne. None deserved a fate like that. She was so undeniably good, more honorable than any other man you’ve ever met—and yet her face was torn apart and now she was dead.

Eventually, you made it out of the Riverlands and began to travel along the high road up to the Eyrie. It was the safest option to get there—the mountains were hardly on the table to walk through on your own, considering it was likely running amok with clansmen and thieves of all sorts. Even on the high road, the terrain was far more mountainous than the relatively-level grounds of the riverlands, and the incline noticeably steeper. You were traveling at a much slower pace than before, growing ragged and tired with shorter distances.

On the third day on the narrow pathway towards the Bloody Gate, you came across two men on a cart. Merchants, perhaps. You spied the stacked wine casks in the back of the cart, wondering if they were empty. Surely they must be, you thought. The Vale is not likely to make any wine of their own, not with mountains as sheer as theirs.

As their cart slowly rolled by, being pulled by braying donkeys, you overheard one of the men say, “A singer, it’s said!”

“A singer?” the other merchant echoed.

“Yes, a singer! They say he shoved Lady Arryn right off a mountain.”

Lady Arryn? Your ears perked up at that. Did they mean Lysa?

He glanced at his companion dubiously. “I heard she threw herself out the door once she confessed her love to him.”

“That’s nonsense, have you seen the way she grips that sickly whelp of hers? She would never throw herself to her death whilst little Robin lives.”

That confirmed it. Lysa is dead?

“If I had a son like that, I’d do the very same,” he grumbled.

“Wait! Good sers!” you exclaimed, turning back to hurry after the cart. The donkeys whined protest as they were pulled to a slow stop. They both glanced back at you with wide, curious eyes.

“Sers?” The one with mousy brown hair piped up with a laugh lodged in his throat. “We are no knights.”

“Apologies, it’s a habit now, I fear. I simply wanted to know—” You stopped in your tracks. “What were you saying about Lady Arryn?”

“She’s dead, she is,” the older of the two merchants told you. His nose was crooked in three different places. “Out the Moon Door—or off the mountain—she flew.”

You stared at them for a moment, trying to gauge whether they were being serious or not. Tall tales such as this were not uncommon amongst the lowborn. “And who now rules in her stead?”

“Little Lord Robin is young still—”

“And far too sickly!”

“—Until he comes of age, Lord Petyr Baelish is Lord of the Vale.”

Littlefinger. The realization dawned on you with great unease as you recalled his infatuation with your good-sister and his alliances with the crown. Lannister crowns. This was no good… no good at all…

“Thank you,” you told the merchants. “That’s good to know.”

“Where are you off to?” said the younger one.

“Runestone,” you lied. “I have family there.”

That seemed to appease them well enough. The one with brown hair waved farewell as he set the donkeys back into motion. You silently thanked the Gods for coming across decent men. You watched the cart of wine caskets descend down the path.

Now what? You could hardly stroll straight into the Vale now—not with the threat of Littlefinger handing you right back into Cersei’s mad hands. Should you even trust these rumors, though? Perhaps the septon at the Bloody Gate could clarify the situation for you. Surely he would tell you the truth. But getting there would take weeks, and you certainly didn’t have that sort of time. If word of Littlefinger’s rule in the Eyrie was true, you would be wasting even more time doubling back to escape. And if he heard of your presence in the Vale there was no telling what he would do… have you locked up and sent to Cersei in a cage?

But what about Sansa? Your heart shattered at the thought of leaving her alone at the Eyrie with Baelish. You had to be smart about this. Even if Sansa was in the Vale, and if you managed to get to her, and if you could whisk her out of the castle undetected, there was nowhere for the two of you to go that would be safe. Sansa wouldn’t last a fortnight out in the wilderness. Gods forbid, but perhaps it was best for her to stay in the Eyrie until you managed to find a stronghold that would keep her safe and protected.

Then again, she could just as likely be elsewhere in Westeros. Arya, too. Gods, you wished Brienne was with you. You could still see the blood spurting from her face, her screams cracking through the thunderous air.

Damn you, Jaime. You should have come with me, you said to yourself, knowing it was a foolish chain of thought. He wouldn’t be much help, anyway. All he did when we traveled together was complain and find new ways to irritate me.

You lingered on the path for a few more moments. Then, you frustratedly gestured to nobody, made a noise of displeasure, and turned to follow after the wine merchants.

Back to the Riverlands you went.

Riverrun was now taken, but at a great cost. Brynden the Blackfish had escaped. All thanks to Jaime’s carelessness and Edmure’s wit. This would never have happened if Tywin was around, Jaime couldn’t help but lament. It was no wonder his aunt Genna told him he was nothing like his father.

He was a fool, and his father knew it.

After a series of threats to both Edmure and his wife, the Tully lord managed to sullenly tell him what he knew of the Blackfish’s whereabouts. Which, to Jaime’s dismay, was very little.

“He swam away,” Edmure had told him. He had the very same blue eyes as Catelyn did, as well as Robb. The very same look of loathing in them, as well. There was a time when you looked at him like that. “The Water Gate’s portcullis was raised. Not enough to be noticed, only three feet or so. My uncle is a strong swimmer. He pulled himself beneath the spikes and I can only assume the current helped him from there.”

Damn it all.

Jaime had hounds and hunters on the prowl for the Blackfish, but he had little hope of catching him. And Edmure was to be heading west the following morning. Jaime was glad to be rid of him, though he worried that the man would slip through the guards he would be traveling with. The knight wasn’t too keen on hunting for the Tully a third time.

News of Ryman Frey’s death was brought to him by young Edwyn, the former’s son. Hanged, apparently, by a band of outlaws nearby Fairmarket, which was boldly close by. Thoros, or Dondarrion, or this mysterious Stoneheart woman. There was little to do about the matter now—Jaime ordered more guards posted and that was that.

That night, he practiced his shoddy, left-handed swordsmanship with the silent Ilyn Payne. He managed to last a grand total of three hours before giving into his cramping muscles’ begs for a rest. Afterwards, he poured the both of them cups full of Hoster Tully’s wine, and told Payne of how he used to kiss his sister when they were children. It was innocent at first, until it wasn’t. It felt nice being able to freely tell someone of everything knowing he couldn’t possibly relay such information to anybody else—Payne’s lack of a tongue ironically made Jaime chattier than ever.

“Tyrion once told me that whores oft avoid kissing their patrons. They’ll fuck you until your legs fall off, he said, but they keep their lips far from yours. It’s what separates work from real romance. I wonder if my sister ever kissed Kettleblack.” Jaime thought for a long moment. “I kissed the Bitter Wolf.”

Payne spared him no reaction.

“She was crying.” Jaime took a sip of wine, leaving out the fact that he had shed a tear or two. “Not because of the kiss, though. I hope not, at least. I’m not that bad of a kisser. Cersei never cried when we kissed.” Though, after he said that, he realized basing his assumptions around Cersei wasn’t a particularly smart thing to do. You and Cersei were many leagues apart from one another.

Payne drained his cup and gestured for Jaime to refill it.

As he did, Jaime went on. “If not for Tyrion’s reckless call for a trial by combat, I would have married her. The Bitter Wolf. We would be at Casterly Rock, and Tyrion would be at the Wall, and my father would still be alive, and my son would sit the Iron Throne, and all would be well. Or not. Cersei would make matters difficult. I doubt Y/N would be pleased about her predicament, either, come to think of it.”

He decided to change the subject back to Kettleblack when Payne’s silence stretched for a little while longer.

“It would be ill-fitting to slay mine own Sworn Brother. I should geld him and send him to the Wall—make up for Tyrion’s loss in some way. He’s been to the Wall, perhaps he had no taste for returning. It’s bloody cold there, I’ve heard. Of course, if I were to lay a hand on Osmund, there would be his brothers to consider, as well. Brothers can be dangerous. Aegon the Unworthy had Ser Terrence Toyne dismembered into pieces after finding him abed with his mistress, and forced her to watch. Toyne’s brothers tried to kill the King for it, though their plans were ultimately foiled by the Dragonknight. It’s written in the White Book. All of it, including every knightly deed and chivalrous act. It doesn’t tell me what to do with Cersei, though.”

Ilyn dragged a finger across his scarred throat.

“No,” Jaime said. “Tommen has already lost a brother, and the man he thinks is his father. If his mother were to die by my hand, he would hate me for it. I’m sure his sweet little wife would use that hatred to her benefit, as well.”

An ugly smile stretched at Ilyn’s thin lips. Jaime misliked the crude gleam in his eye.

“You talk too much,” Jaime told the mute.

The next night, Jaime found himself in Hoster Tully’s solar, looking over a map, wondering where the Blackfish could have gone. Many of his hunters had returned that morning, torn and bleeding. Direwolves, they had told him. A monstrous pack with a large she-wolf leading them. He wondered if that could have been the wolf that had mauled Joffrey what had felt like a lifetime ago.

In consequence, Jaime couldn’t help but wonder about you. Did the direwolves like you at all? He strained his mind to remember, but couldn’t seem to recall. It confused him when his chest constricted at the thought of forgetting you.

The war was practically won. Dragonstone was taken, and Storm’s End would be very soon. Stannis was welcome to the cold fruits of the Wall—if Roose Bolton hadn’t already destroyed him. And the Riverlands were successfully taken without Jaime ever having to raise a sword against neither Stark nor Tully. All in all, he was to be content.

But where did that place you? Once everything calmed down, what would happen to you? To Sansa, who surely deserved no harm that would come to her? She was just a young girl and you… you were far from the paragon of innocence, to be certain, but surely he could have Tommen pardon you for any of your crimes. Your crimes being allegiance to your own nephew, which Jaime could hardly fault you for.

Then again, Cersei was the problem. There was no chance she would sit idly by and let you live. Once he returned to King’s Landing, he had to find a way to whisk Tommen from her crutches before he would turn as corrupt as Joffrey. A new council full of abled men would be in order, as well.

More and more days passed. Jaime had the entire Tully garrison safely released from their keep, which displeased his Aunt Genna greatly, but Jaime was intent on letting them go. There was little harm they could do when they were scattered, weaponless, and hungry.

He dreamed of Cersei most nights. Of her golden hair, which then molded into golden hands. In his dreams, he always had two hands. Sometimes touching her, stroking her, holding her—dreamy memories of old. Sometimes he was strangling her, which he certainly had never done before.

Other nights he dreamed of Brienne. Her big, brutish face red with rage and exhaustion. She would swing Oathkeeper at his neck and he awoke just before his head rolled off his shoulders.

Some of the nights, however scarce they were, were far more precious. He dreamt of you, your hair freckled with snow, your eyes alight as you watched children play beneath you. He was in Winterfell, he realized, and with a shocked start looked back down at the children. His? No. They were your nieces and nephews, of course. Their faces were a blur, but their red hair was unmistakable. Save for the littlest girl and the bastard boy. Snow, Jaime remembered.

“We should have one,” your dream-self said to him, so serious that Jaime wondered if it was actually you standing there in front of him. “A little wolf-lion.”

Did Jaime want that? Would they have golden hair like his? Like Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen? But how could he have another child when he was never a father to the ones he already had? It felt wrong to even consider it. Dishonorable. Any romantic notion of a normal life with you was quickly dashed.

“I know we can’t,” you continued on before he could respond. “They’re all dead.” You gestured down to the Starklings. “And I’ll be joining them soon. But it’s a nice thought, isn’t it?”

“No—” he said, reaching out to you, but you had already faded into a blur.

Not all of his dreams with you were as bleak. Once he was abed with you, and another time he was bound by rope as you pointed an arrow at his forehead while he cackled maniacally.

A week after releasing the last of the garrison, Jaime woke up with a start after dreaming about a cloaked figure that looked eerily similar to Cersei, though he knew it wasn’t her. His mother spoke soft riddles, where Cersei would bark harsh insults. He couldn’t quite tell which he favored. He threw the covers off him with his stump.

The room was frigid. The hearth’s warmth had waned away and the windows had been left pushed open when he fell asleep. In the darkness, Jaime made his way to close the shutters, but his foot touched against a wetness on the ground. Blood had been his first thought, but blood would not be so cold. Rain, perhaps, but he would have heard the sound of pattering coming from outside.

Jaime drew the damp curtains apart, letting the moonlight stream through. Moonlight and snow. Down below, the yard was spotting with white, growing thicker and thicker in the minutes he watched. After a moment, he even began to see his breath misting in front of him.

Winter is here, he thought. Marching south, and our granaries are half empty.

He watched the snow fall, and stood there thinking of you. It irked him that you haunted his every thought. Nonetheless, he hoped you were warm, wherever you were. If he was as fanatically religious as his dear coz Lancel, he would have even prayed for your safety.

When morning dawned, Riverrun’s maester came to pay him a visit. He was pallid-faced and shaking.

“I know,” Jaime said, glancing at the bound letter in the old man’s quivering hands. “The Citadel has sent a white raven. Winter has come.”

“No, my lord,” said Maester Vyman. “The bird came from King’s Landing. Forgive me, I took the liberty to open it, I did not know it was meant for your eyes…”

Jaime took the letter and sat by the window to read. It was Qyburn’s hurried hand, but he knew it to be Cersei’s fevered words.

Come at once. Help me. Save me. I need you now as I have never needed you before. I love you. I love you. I love you. Come at once.

“Does my lord wish to answer?” asked Vyman, hovering by the door.

A snowflake landed on the letter. He was reminded of the snowflakes in your hair, in his dream. It was quick to melt, blurring the inked words and streaking down the paper.

Jaime rolled the paper back as tight as he could with his one hand, and handed it back to the maester. “No,” he said. “Put this in the fire.”

#jaime lannister x reader #jaime lannister fanfiction #jaime lannister fluff #jaime lannister angst #jaime lannister fic #jaime lannister x you #jaime lannister x stark!reader #asoiaf fanfiction #game of thrones fanfiction #got fanfiction #game of thrones fanfic #jaime lannister

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flonkertainment · 6 months ago

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Juliet, that's hardly a-

And THEN, the squirrel leaned over...AND HE SAW...

Oh, get a grip on yourself, Mr. Dear. Julie's tall tale cannot be that scary!~

The wheel has decided! Eddie it is again! This time I thought about the "Happy Haunting to Boo and Yours" Audio and how i literally spat out my water when I heard Eddie scream at Julie's Story and I just could not stop laughing xD I like to imagine that he would hide underneath Frank's Cape and Frank adressing him with his Surname to mock him :3 Also can I just say how there is like no way that Eddie didn't choose his Halloween Costume just for Frank? (Also we love Frank's T-Rex Arms)

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mochinomnoms · 10 months ago

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The Private (not) Thoughts of a Moray Chapter 5: I wanna go on walks with you, I wanna have long talks with you

Gender Neutral Reader x Jade Leech

Chapter 5 preview:

The fall was much shorter than you anticipated, as you felt yourself fall against a soft body. You opened your eyes, but found that the room was dark. Or a tunnel? Hole? Whatever it was, it was a tight fit as you shifted around to get back on your feet. You dug your elbows against the soft floor to get up, which subsequently moved and grunted. “Ow. That was my rib.” Jade's voice grunted against your ear, his hold around loosening as he also moved to stand. “Jade? What—oh my god!” You tried to scramble off of Jade, harder said than done in the space you two had found yourselves. Shifting around, you were sure that you’d just made the situation worse, as Jade lit a light with his wand. How in the world you managed to find yourself straddling Jade’s waist in the dark was a mystery. Though, with the flush look on his face, you weren’t sure he minded. Oh…by the Abyss itself… you’re such a pretty sight.

[wc} - 9,838

[notes] - let's gooooo! My editors still need a chance to comb through but I really wanted this out, so I will update with their feedback later so they don't have to stress! Anyway pls gimme your thoughts! I'd love to hear them!!

[tag list] - @simpingforbelphegor @myteacupisempty

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Chapter 5: I wanna go on walks with you, I wanna have long talks with you)

It had been roughly two months since the year started and you’d been housewarden. You’d like to say that it had been smooth sailing, and it mostly was. Mostly.

Epel had taken you to the Mostro Lounge of all places to get you to relax after a fight broke out between a few of the Ramshackle students over how they should decorate it for Halloween. A Diasomnia student that had managed to sneak into your roster a month ago had wanted to turn the dorm into Malleus’s usual haunted house, but Wynfred and the others wanted to do something new.

Then it turned into another argument over what that new idea would be, which caused a fight to break out between the different students. If it hadn’t been for Wynfred bluntly calling them all whiny and suggesting that they just drew written suggestions from a hat. While most of them bristled at the remark, they’d agreed to follow his lead. After Albert had so kindly offered his hat, the winning idea was a screampark with clowns.

You’d thanked Wynfred for managing to wrangle them in, as you’d been out at a housewarden meeting at the time and did NOT feel like returning to a warring dorm. The redhead has flushed and beamed at your praise, something he’d been doing for a while you’d notice. At first, you thought it was just him being happy at being recognized for his efforts.

“You know, Wynfred talks a lot ‘bout you, calls you all sorts of sweet names.” Epel had a gleeful smirk as he teased you. “Sounding like someone’s got a little secret admirer!”

Now you know why Wynfred had been so keen to seek your praise.

“Shut up Epel, you know I still have Vil on speed-dial, and I’ll tell him about you cussing out Yev, again.”

Epel wrinkled his nose and stuck his nose out at you, which you returned in kind.

“Mmmeeh! Don’t worry about it, Yev has snitched on me plenty of times. Vil tells him to get it together and wrangle me in.”

The small man sipped on his smoothie before continuing, “Vil knew how to fight at least, I respect that. Yev’s a big ol’ wuss. He’s like a peacock. Or a chihuahua.”

Both of you giggled, you particularly at the image in Epel’s head of Yev’s head on a brown shaking chihuahua. Your fit of laughter was interrupted by a familiar presence and the thoughts of a familiar twin.

Hehe, little shrimpy~

“Hi Floyd, what’s up?”

You craned your head to look up at Floyd, who was peering over the booth with a grin, his gold eye glinting at you.

“Boo!” Floyd pouted, resting his chin on the top of the booth and draping his arms over to essentially trap you between them.

“Was tryin’ to scare Shrimpy, not fair!”

You giggled at the whiny tone, though Epel looked a bit off put by Floyd, which wasn’t surprising.

It’s like Shrimpy can tell when I’m nearby, totally not fair!

“Did you need something, Floyd?” Epel was still polite even after Vil left, so you suppose some of the habits instilled in him now came second nature.

“Nah, just wanted to bother ya. Hey Shrimpy, Tony said you guys are doing scary clowns for Halloween? Never seen that, are clowns really that scary to humans?”

“Oh yeah,” You responded while Epel nodded along. “I don’t know about here, but back home it was a whole deal, we had like a whole scary movie franchise based on a scary clown that stole and ate children.”

Epel added, “Yeah, and we had a whole thing like two years ago where people were sighting killer clowns on the street! Like, just randomly in the middle of the night!”

“You guys had that too? Oh, that’s weird.”

Floyd made a disturbed face at your comments. Humans are weird. He hummed, moving to further shove his body over your booth. You wouldn’t be surprised though if his feet were still on the ground.

“Killer clowns? Just beat them up, I don’t know, humans get scared of the weirdest things.”

The twin perked up as he held up a finger to shush you as you opened your mouth to rebuke.

“Wait a sec, I got something for ya!” Floyd brought his hand up to his mouth and shrilly whistled a small tune. “Hey Aspen!”

Watching with mild curiosity, you watched as the pink-haired man froze at Floyd calling for him. Staring at Floyd with wide eyes, he briefly darted his gaze to you, and back to Floyd.

“Bring the calamari over for lil’ Shrimpy!”

Aspen made a face, scrunching up his nose as he did what he was told as he internally complained.

I can’t believe you’re making me touch this stuff, I just—I can’t with you! How can you have Jade’s sweet face, and yet be such an ass, Floyd.

Placing the plate before you, Aspen gave you and Epel a polite nod. “Here you are, please enjoy.”

“Yeah, Aspen’s reeeal fond of squid, ain’t ya?” Floyd giggled as Aspen took a deep breath, glowering at him as he turned his cheek and trotted off.

Stupid, it’s no wonder you can’t court your mate, you brute.

“I believe my shift has ended. I’ll be setting off, I’ll see you at Ramshackle, Housewarden.”

You watched from the corner of your eye as Floyd grinned wryly at Aspen’s retreating form, looking back at you and Epel to pout and mockingly sniffle.

“He’s always been so mean to poor ol’ Floydie!” He giggled again, tilting his head as you rolled your eyes. “He ignores me all the time, even when I’m trying to have fun with him! It was just a joke!”

You gave a light-hearted scoff, as did Epel who froze at Floyd squinting a golden eye at him.

“Right, a joke. Like when you ‘accidentally’ served Azul your takoyaki. Didn’t he smack you hard enough to bruise you?”

Floyd blew a raspberry, cocking his hip as he leaned further against your booth. At the angle you had to crane your head to look at him, he almost looked like his brother.

“Yeah, he was so mean for that! It’s fine, though, he kept serving me unagi for like a week after that to get back at me.”

His eyes dulling a bit, you could tell Floyd was getting bored now that his ‘fun’ had left. Though, he seemed to perk up as you popped a calamari ring into your mouth, studying your reaction as you chewed. It got a bit awkward as you made eye contact with Epel, who shrugged.

I wonder if he’s waiting for the Prefect to say something about the food. Maybe he made it and wants praise?

You swallowed and cheerily told Floyd, “Hey, this is really good! Tastes great, did you cook it, Floyd?”

Floyd held his chin in his hands, grinning again as he watched you take another ring.

Waiting until you were mid-chew, he purred out in a teasing tone, “Oh, no I didn’t make that. Jade made it. For you.”

So sappy, an’ such a basic courting gift too!

You choked on the calamari, coughing and frantically hitting your chest. Epel yelped as he nearly jumped over the table to shove your glass of water in your face, which you accepted.

“Oh? You good Shrimpy?” Floyd, unbothered as ever, grinned as he watched you chug your water. “Something got you all flustered?”

“Floyd! Don’t make jokes, they’re chokin’!” Epel scolded Floyd as you finally took a heaving breath, waving your hands to cool off your burning cheeks.

“It’s fine, just went down the wrong throat. Um,” You shakily smiled at Floyd as you replied, “Thanks for letting me know, I’ll be sure to thank him later.”

As if, I don’t need him getting the wrong idea.

“Oh good, Jade wanted to talk to ya ‘bout something anyway. Can’t remember about what.” Floyd gave you a lazy smirk. “He was gonna visit ya at your dorm, but what if I pop you in his room as a surprise? It’ll be reeeal funny!”

“Nope!” You popped your lips, blanching at the thought of Jade finding you alone in his bedroom.

“Kayyy!” Floyd shrugged, sliding his upper body against the top of the booth as he sauntered away. “I’m sure Jade will be back soon anyway. I’ll have someone come top off your waters while you wait.”

An exhausted sigh left your mouth as you rested your head against the cool table while Epel did the same, in solidarity you think.

“Ya good? I’ve heard that Jade has been hovering around you lately. You don’t like, owe him anything, do you?”

You slid your head up to meet Epel’s gaze, who was currently giving you a curious look.

Ace mentioned he’s been around you a lot lately.

“Ah, no he’s just been, ummm—” you hummed as you considered how to word your circumstances without telling him about your telepathy.

Maybe I should tell him anyway…

“If it helps, I don’t think it’s anything bad!” Epel tried to reassure you with a small smile. “You two walk together after your potions class, right?”

You blinked in surprise, raising a brow. “Yeah? How’d you know?”

“Oh, he’s in the remedial second-year flight class with some other mermen. And I see you two walking when I’m coming from astronomy, it’s on the way.”

Every day too, without fail.

Epel waited for you to take a sip of water before giving you a wry grin. “It’s cute, you guys look like a couple.”

Choking on your water, you coughed as Epel giggled at your flustered reaction. Unfazed by your glare, Epel happily continued.

“Ha! I thought Ace was joking, but you really do get all embarrassed talking about Jade. What? You got a crush on him?”

“NO!” You shouted, nearly flying out of your seat. The dining room got quiet as you did, several eyes staring at you. From the corner of your eye, you could see Floyd smirking at you. Like he knew what you were talking about.

Oh, geez. Epel was leaning back against his seat, eyeing you up and down. Dramatic much?

“I mean, uh, no.” You hastily mumbled as you settled back in your booth, wishing you could just sink into the cushions.

“Sure, yeah.” Epel scoffed, and relaxed, smirking at you again. “You know, he’s real happy during flight class, even though he can barely make it off the ground. Might have something to do with a certain someone, you think?”

You laughed and dryly responded, “I wouldn’t know.” Liar. “Besides, it’s not like I ask for him to hover over me all the time. It gets annoying sometimes”

Epel now looked at you puzzled. “Ace didn’t mention anythin’ like that. He’s not like…stalking you or anything, right?”

I’ll beat him up if he is. He might got a foot over me, but I can take him!

The sentiment was sweet, but the thought of Epel confronting Jade made you uneasy. With how intense his feelings were for you, you couldn’t imagine Jade willingly backing down just from a few harsh words or threats from Epel of all people.

“It’s nothing to worry about. Promise!” You straightened and frantically waved your hands at the doubtful look he gave you. “Jade’s been nothing but helpful! He’s probably just being nice.”

“Jade, being nice? Sure, yeah right.” He snorted, amused again. “He’s as nice as a bull seein’ red. He’s like his brother, nothing but a big and mean bully.”

You clicked your tongue, now annoyed. “That’s not fair, Jade can be nice! Like I said, he’s been nothing but helpful to me since the year started.” You weren’t sure why you were so defensive. Jade had been as much of a nuisance as he was helpful since the year started.

Though, if I couldn’t read his mind, he probably wouldn’t actually be such a nuisance to me. I guess he hasn’t actually done anything to make him annoying.

“Hmm, awfully defensive, Prefect.” Leaning in, like he was sharing a secret, Epel slyly whispered, “You sure he’s actually annoying, or are you just pretending? Cause you’ve been getting redder since we’ve started talking ‘bout him.”

You smacked your hands against your heated cheeks, scowling at the cackling Epel.

“I’ve not! Liar!”

“Ha! Look at you!” Epel teased, stealing a piece of calamari as he continued making fun of you. “Why you all red, then?”

“Oh, shut up!” You pouted, sticking your tongue out at your friend before sighing. “Look, there’s more to it, I’ll tell you about it later, just stop making fun of me!”

Epel nodded in understanding, popping one of the calamari rings in his mouth.

“I’ll hold ya to it! Oh, I almost forgot to tell you about one of the guys in my class almost eating a poisonous plant in botany!”

You spent the next half hour listening to Epel recount the stories about the guys in his botany class. You liked being around Epel, even though he wasn’t aware of your telepathy. The way he spoke out loud and in his head were different, since he still spoke to himself internally with his normal accent.

“And then, he cut the bloom off, which made the entire glasshouse fill up with this pink gas!”

It smelt so awful, I'd rather have my face shoved in a cow's hind end!

“It smelled reeaaally bad!” Epel barked a laugh as you two got up from your seats, your waiter had finally given you your receipts. “It was a whole deal, Professor Kallpa was sooo mad!”

“Oh, really?” You laughed alongside Epel as you two walked out of the dining room. “I’ve never seen him mad, it must’ve been really bad!”

As you two turned the corner of the hall leading to the door of the Mostro Lounge, Jade was just exiting his bubble, too preoccupied by the small notebook in his hand to take notice of you.

“Oh shit—Epel hide me!” You spun back around and plastered your back against the wall, freezing like a deer in headlights. Epel yelped as you snatched the back of his collar. He followed suit, crouching against the wall under your arms as he looked up at you with an amused look.

“Seriously, what—” you smacked a hand over his mouth, listening for movement or thoughts.

Hmm? Interesting, is there a little guppy hiding from me? I hope they’re aware I can smell them.

You tried to make out Jade’s footsteps as you could hear his thoughts come closer and closer. You looked at Epel mouthed out, ‘He’s coming.’ Epel blinked rapidly in confusion, shrugging as he waved his hands in front of him.

‘What do you want me to do?’ He mouthed back, standing and holding his hands up still in confusion.

Though am I mistaken, that familiar scent of lavender…is that you, my love?

You stopped breathing, shoulders hunched up as your brain rapidly ran through various escape plans before finally settling on one.

“Sorry, Epel,” you whispered, giving him a nervous smile. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

Just as Jade was turning the corner, you shoved Epel into the tall man, the force causing the two to barrel into the ground with a loud ‘thump’ and groans.

While they, and most importantly Jade, were down, you swiftly and sneakily sped past them.

Ow! You ASS!

You turned as you opened the lounge entrance, pushing your back against the forming bubble as Epel looked up at you from the ground, glaring at you as if he could form a hole into your skull.

Ugh, is that Epel? Gah, I hit my head against the wall…

Jade looked up from his place on the ground, following Epel’s gaze as the bubble lifted you from view. He looked surprised, if a bit sad to see you go, opening his mouth to call out to you.

“Pearl?”

You sighed, feeling a bit guilty as you let the bubble take you to the mirror. It was just a few minutes to get to it, but that was enough to let you stew in your own thoughts for once.

Aw, he looked kinda sad. Maybe I should’ve just sucked it up and let him say hello.

You leaned against the cool wall of the bubble, watching as a small school of fish swam by. If you’re being honest with yourself, if it wasn’t for the fact you knew about how Jade felt for you, you probably wouldn’t have such a hard time interacting with him. You’d be blissfully unaware, making your way through life without a concern in the world.

Probably. Maybe. What if he tried confessing then? Would I still be avoiding him if I didn’t know what he thought of me? Ugh, but they’re such weird thoughts! Is it too much to ask for him to be normal?

From the distance you could see another bubble form from the Mostro Lounge, no doubt Epel following. As you turned to press through the mirror into the Hall of Mirrors. You sighed again.

What am I talking about, no one at this school is normal.

Stepping aside to wait for Epel, you took your phone out to check your texts. You blanched at the sight of several missed Magicam messages, mostly from Wynfred and Silas.

winniethewitch: Hi Prefect! Just a suggestion, can we invest in pest control? I think it would be really beneficial for us all :) sysalson: ignore my brother, there are no issues with bugs. The bugs are fine, the bugs are my friends :D winniethewitch: Hi again, Prefect! Please ignore Silas. The bugs are very much NOT fine. The bugs are not our friends. The bugs must go. winniethewitch: Hi Prefect, this is Wynfred, your unofficial Vice Housewarden. Please ignore my previous messages. Silas is right, the bugs are our friends and I made a haS42q vhq0[p;’M winniethewitch: That was not me. Please as the Headmage for pest conlk10vg n 319jioqajn13pn

You read through a few more messages, each harder to decipher than the last, as Wynfred and Silas evidently fought over the phone. You noticed that the last messages were actually readable.

winniethewitch: Prefect! I have taken care of the problem, there is no need for pest control now. Evidently, please ignore the smell when returning. It turns out that Aspen can make quite the strong pest repellent, it just happens to smell very strongly of garlic.

“Oh god, are you kidding me?” You chuckled to yourself, the sound of the Octavinelle mirror shimmering catching your attention. Turning to greet Epel, you noticed a smug look on his face instead of the annoyed one you expected.

“Heyyy, you know I didn’t mean to shove you so hard, right?”

“Mm-hm.” Epel hummed, walking past you and out the building. You followed, if a bit confused.

“I just panicked, and wanted to get out of there.”

Epel replied, “Away from Jade, right?”

“Right! You heard me earlier, it’s been a little weird being around him a bunch, so I just wanted to—”

“Yeah, don’t worry, I made sure to tell him that you weren’t trying to be rude or anything.”

You stopped rambling, now silent as Epel continued to offhandedly comment.

“Yeah! He seemed real worried that you were in such a rush to get away from him. So I let him know that you were just being shy, that you’d been getting all red and flustered when talking about him earlier—”

“WHAT!” You screeched, running ahead of him to stop Epel in his tracks, by now Ramshackle was in view and there were a few students on the porch staring after you yelled.

“Yeah, he didn’t say anythin’, but I could tell he was reeeal happy to hear that. I mean, he nearly, tripped over himself trying to follow you out, but Azul came over for him.”

Scoffing, you tapped your food as you angrily placed your hands on your hips. Epel looked at you, still smug.

That’s what you get for leaving me behind. Trying to sacrifice me, hmph!

“By the way, he asked me to remind you that your potionology group is still meeting at 3 later today. He said Yev was throwing a fit over you not texting him back, and he wanted to get work done.”

“Oh shit, I forgot!” You groaned, rubbing the palms of your hands against your eyes. “Ugh, I gotta get dressed in my lab uniform.”

Epel laughed, nudging you with his shoulder to push you towards Ramshackle. He cooed in mock sympathy, “Oh, too bad, so sad, better hurry up then.”

You ran, Epel laughing as you made a panicked screech, to Ramshackle. You zoomed past the group of freshmen on the porches they greeted you, stumbling into the foyer. You notice Grim in the living room, standing on the table as he told some sort of story about fighting an overblot monster in the mines. No doubt overinflating his part in the story.

“And then it raised its pickaxe to my hench-human while the other two ran for their hides! But, as the brave and mighty Grim, I used my most powerful spell—”

“GRIM!” You slid on the hardwood floors, huffing and pointing at the gray familiar. “Was laundry done yet!? I need my lab pants!”

“Nyah! Uh.” Grim jumped as his ears pinned down, and he sheepishly mumbled, “Nooo, I forgot. But I was telling these guys about the mines and—”

“GAAAAH!”

You ran up the steps and flew into your room, slamming the door behind you as you shuffled through your clean clothes to find your oversized lab coat, goggles, and pants. You managed to find the first two, but the third was indeed still in your dirty clothes hamper.

Damn it! Ugh, where are my tights?

Crewel had often chastised you when you wore your skirts to lab classes, as it didn’t follow lab safety protocols. Vil had helped you make outfits with opaque black tights to help cover your skin for lab, though you’d stopped after the last class when you spilled a potion over your legs, causing your favorite tights to bleach an ugly white, splotchy pattern.

You learned the hard way why none of your other classmates wore their skirts to lab either. Now you had a dedicated pair of pants for all labs, also bleached but comfortable. Unfortunately, they were still buried under a pile of dirty clothes.

Groaning, you slipped off your shoes and socks as you pulled out a pair of black tights, slipping them on, along with your lab coat and goggles around your neck. You had to fold your sleeves up to prevent them from engulfing your hands, easier said than done as you tried to smoothly slip on your shoes again.

Stumbling back out of your bedroom, and tripping a bit over the stairs, you managed to make it to the main hallway before being interrupted mid-walk.

“Prefect!” Perfect, they’ve still here! You looked up at Aspen, who looked strangely happy to see you. Behind him was Wynfred, who was blushing and staring down at his feet.

“Prefect,” Aspen chirped, gesturing to Wynfred with a flourishing wave. “Wynfred has something very important to tell you—”

“Sorry! Can’t talk! Ask Grim if you have any dorm related questions!”

“But, wait!” You ignored Aspen’s calls and him cursing you out in his head, while Wynfred also called out.

“Prefect, I—”

“Can’t talk! Bye, bye, bye, bye!”

You ignored their shouts as you leaped over the Ramshackle steps and ran as fast as you could to the castle. Maybe Vargas had a point trying to recruit you to the track team, as you managed to make it to the hallway that Yev’s lab was in just five minutes shy of three o’clock. You nearly rammed into Riddle’s back as you slid across the floor.

“Oh my!” Riddle stumbled forward, his goggles falling lopsided over his head, turning as he heard the trample of your steps. He stumbled backwards as you keened over, hands on your knees as you heaved for air.

“Prefect! Mind where you’re going! You nearly trampled me over!”

“Sorry! I just didn’t want to be late.” You took a final deep breath as you smiled up to Riddle. “Just 5 minutes to spare!”

Riddle chuckled as he lent a helping hand to get you back up, pulling you along to the classroom Yev had instructed your group to meet at.

“Very good Prefect, let’s not hurt ourselves, though. I already checked in, it’s just Jade. No sign of Yev quite yet.”

“Wasn’t he the one who insisted that we meet at this specific time? I’d thought he’d been here already.”

Riddle chuckled as you two made your way into the classroom. As Riddle had said, Jade was sitting at the end of the classroom in a desk closest to the wall. He’d been studying the stones that made up the wall rather intently before notice you and Riddle enter.

“Why hello Riddle. And Prefect, we’d bumped into each other earlier and didn’t even manage to say hello.”

Gave Jade a polite wave and a sheepish smile as Riddle greeted him.

“Still no sign of Yev, Jade?”

“Oh, no. How strange, especially since he insisted on us meeting at this time.”

Jade’s eyes briefly locked on your form, eyes drawing up and down.

There you are! My darling! My pearl, you’re wearing a skirt again! I can’t believe I didn’t notice earlier! And you’re acting all shy! Your little friend was right! Cute, cute, cute!!

“Hey, Riddle, what if I jumped off a bridge? For fun?”

Riddle sharply inhaled, slowly turning his head to give you an unamused glare.

“What if I tied a leash to your neck? For fun?” He scoffed, pulling at your cheek like a mother to her child. “Honestly, you worry me at times, I may have to anyway.”

Hmm, not a bad idea Riddle…

Jade’s mind conjured up an image of you on your knees, in the maid outfit again, a leash tied to your neck leading up to his hand as he cooed over you.

You made a low-pitch whine as the two of you made your way to where Jade was waiting at the end of the classroom.

“No, I’m fine actually, no leashes here. Hate them.” You made an ‘X’ with your hands as you turned and walked backwards, puffing your cheeks. “Not something I want on my person, at all!”

Really? You heard Jade shift in his seat, standing to approach you and Riddle. Hmm.

You smiled to yourself for effectively shutting down the latest dirty thought.

At least, until Jade conjured up another image of you straddling him in bed, using his tie as a leash to pull his face to yours.

“Jade, you’ve been naughty~” You giggled, pulling on his tie, further tightening it as his own hand clasped yours. “Maybe I ought to collar you up? Tie a leash and drag you around like a pet?” Jade gasped, pupils blown wide, as he let out an uncharacteristically high-pitched whine. A sound reserved just for you. “Anything you want, just for you, my love.” Jade groaned as you licked a stripe up his throat to meet his lips in a messy, wet kiss. His words muffled as he spoke against your moving lips, “I’ll be your pet. I’ll let you use me. Please—” Grasping the ends of your shirt, tugging at them like a lifeline, Jade started muttering nonsense as he ground his hips against yours. “Please, please, please, I’ll be so good to you! I’ll fuck you so good, I’ll make you feel good if you’ll just let me. Let me love you, please, please, please—”

A sharp pain flew up your neck to your head as you collided with the stone wall, tripping over a table leg while walking backwards. Your face was burning, as was the heat in your gut. Riddle and Jade both made noises of concern as you clenched the back of your head. You were glad that they assumed your red face was due to your embarrassment, as Jade’s last rambles were still echoing in your head.

“Oh my, Prefect! Are you alright?” Riddle's voice was full of concern, but also slight amusement as he grabbed your left arm, Jade the right, to pull you up.

“Yes, that looked like it hurt quite a bit.” Jade murmured, moving his hands to gently move your head. “Allow me to check your head.”

“No, I’m—ow!” His hand brushed on a tender spot on your crown, making you wince. ”Ooooh, that hurt!”

Ah, I’m so sorry, my pearl, but you make the cutest sounds sometimes! You heard Jade tut as he leaned down to closely inspect your head. I just wonder what kinds I could pull from you.

You cringed, leaning away from his hand and shooing both boys away. “I’m fine, guys, it’s just a bump.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? It does none of us any good if you’re hurt and can’t focus, you can go to the nurse.” Riddle replied, pushing you towards the door.

“Yes.” Jade chirped in agreement, ignoring Riddle’s side eye at his abnormally happy tone. “Allow me to take you—”

“Oh no! I don’t think so!” Yev came barreling through the classroom door, looking rather disheveled. Compared to his rather clean, prim appearance, he looked as if he’d been run through the wringer.

Oh my, I would have never seen Vil in such a state. You heard Riddle stifle a chuckle as he eyed Yev fixing his messy hair. Said man was huffing, no doubt from running.

“Ugh my hair! Look,” Yev said, eyeing you in particular, “It took forever for us to find a spare day to meet up. I won't go through the effort of rescheduling it when one of you just happened to bump your head.”

Besides, I have a potion in my lab you can take anyways.

“I really must insist that the Prefect get checked up.” Jade argued, giving Yev a polite smile. Though, his eyes were quite firm.

“And I must insist that we get started.” Yev scoffed as he pushed past the three of you pressing against the stones in the wall as he continued talking. “I have pain medicine in my lab, just…ugh. Where’s that damn button!”

Your group shared looks at Yev’s muttering, moving closer to huddle around Yev as he pressed hidden buttons along the stone wall. He pressed one, the lights flickered off and back on as he pressed it again.

Riddle yelped as the bookshelf next to him spun into the wall, turning around to reveal its other side blended into the wall. He jumped back as it spun again, nearly hitting him.

“Yev! Be careful!.” Riddle yelled, cheeks turning red. “I thought this was your secret lab, how do you not know how to get in it?”

Yev yelled back, “I know! I’m just having trouble—you know, I didn’t have to let us use my lab for our project!”

As the two started arguing, now the blackboard and teacher’s desk shaking as Yev pressed more stone buttons, Jade shuffled closer to you.

“You know…” Jade leaned down to softly speak to you. “I can still take you to the infirmary, if you’d prefer?”

You looked up at Jade, surprised at the tender look in his eyes.

I really shouldn’t be, though.

“I, uh—” You turned away shyly, reaching up to touch the still throbbing spot on your head. “Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea—”

“Wait! Don’t press that one, it’s the wrong—”

Your stomach dropped as the floor beneath your feet disappeared. Specifically the square panel you and Jade had been incidentally standing on, the trap door opening as you two started falling down the dark pit. A scream left your mouth, arms reaching around your midsection as you clutched onto them and shut your eyes.

“Ow. That was my rib.” Jade's voice grunted against your ear, his hold around loosening as he also moved to stand.

“Jade? What—oh my god!” You tried to scramble off of Jade, harder said than done in the space you two had found yourselves. Shifting around, you were sure that you’d just made the situation worse, as Jade lit a light with his wand. How in the world you managed to find yourself straddling Jade’s waist in the dark was a mystery. Though, with the flush look on his face, you weren’t sure he minded.

Oh…by the Abyss itself… you’re such a pretty sight.

“You say that often, ‘my god’, what does that mean if you don’t mind me asking.” Jade pushed himself up by his free elbow, the other arm busy holding up your only source of light. “It’s an expression, yes?”

“Y-yeah, it’s like when you guys say things li-like ‘by the Seven’ or—I’m sorry. Let me try to get off you!”

You started rambling, looking around for a way to put some distance between you and Jade. However, you only saw black walls around you. Looking up, whatever panel had been above you was closed off, black stone closing you in.

“Well, there’s not much space for you to move.” Unless you want to keep moving those hips against me… “Perhaps relax, there’s hardly any space between the two of us.”

“Right! Of course, but I think I can…” Carefully, you managed to stand in the small space, trying to avoid moving against him. Harder said than done, but you managed, reaching down to lend a hand to him. “Here.”

Jade smiled, something soft and sweet, as he took your hand and awkwardly shuffled against the wall as he slid up.

Though, this is just as nice as well.

“I think I can hear them shuffling on top of us. Do you think one of them noticed us falling?”

“Ha, with the way you screamed? Without a doubt.” Jade managed to stand straight, a good chunk of space between the tops of your heads and the trap door panel.

He attempted to reach up to knock the top of the panel. Despite his height his fingerprints barely brushed it. Luckily, you could hear Riddle and Yev’s panicked footsteps stumble around.

Riddle’s voice came through the floor, muffled and frantic.

“Prefect? Jade? Prefect!? Yev what in the world was that!? Where did it send them? Prefect! (Name)!!”

“We’re here!” You called out, smacking the wall in an attempt to make more noise. “We’re fine!”

“Oh good!” You heard Yev laugh, then yelp as you heard a smack. “What?! Usually it would send them down to the lake! They got stuck in the trap hole since you pressed the button twice, usually it would’ve sent them to a nice midafternoon bath!”

You heard another smack and yelp, then some scratching against the wood.

“Prefect, we’re going to get you and Jade out! Let me just figure out how to get the panel open.”

Listening to some more footsteps, Jade leaned down to murmur, “There goes our plans then. You don’t suppose they’ll get us out of here before 3, do you?”

You snorted, stifling a laugh, failing to do so at the sound of more clamoring and arguing above you.

“Give Riddle some faith at least. He’s always been smart. And resourceful! You should’ve seen him over the summer, he got through every training simulation thrown at us.”

“Ah, I never did learn about what happened at that camp the headmage had you all attend.” Jade leaned down, studying your features.

Oh, such a wonderful smile! I wished you’d do that more often around me.

“Azul’s been tight-lipped about it as well, perhaps you’d be willing to share with me?”

You blinked up at him, shuffling a bit as he leaned down to whisper against your ear.

“You can trust me, you know.” His smooth voice drew a shiver down your spine. You think that he noticed your blushing face, based on the way he took a sharp breath.

Please, please, please! Don’t be nervous, there’s no need to be shy with me! I know you are, but you don’t need to my love!

You really wanted to wring Epel’s neck for that comment, though it was hard to focus. Especially with the lack of space between you two.

“I’m happy to lead an ear. There’s no need to be shy.”

You shuffled against the wall to place some distance between you two, squinting at his smile. You half expected him to cage you in with his long arms, though he seemed more amused at seeing you try and escape him.

Ah! Look at you being shy! So cute, cute, cute!

You wanted to roll your eyes at him, more annoyed now than anything, even with your blush.

“I’m fine, thank you. I can handle myself just fine.”

Jade chuckled, “Ah, I forget how spirited you can be.”

Before you could retort back, a bit of light from the opening panel shone through. Both you and Jade looked up to see Riddle’s gray eyes peering through the small gap he made.

“Prefect!” shouted in relief, looking at the twin. “And Jade. You’re there too.”

“Oh, Riddle. Your concern is most kind.”

Ignoring Jade’s thinly veiled sarcasm, you smiled and reached up with both hands to wave at Riddle.

“Hey! Let’s go! Can you open it more to get us out?”

“Yes, but I can’t reach you. Yev has to stand by the button that opens this panel up. He’s using a spell to hold the button so that it won’t open the panels beneath you while I pry this one open.”

Riddle briefly disappeared, the panel moving slightly more as he pushed it into its slot. The floor beneath your feet also shifted, vibrating as if it too wanted to slide away and disappear.

“Ah! Careful, the panel here is moving!”

You stumbled, Jade catching you by your waist to help steady you as he also called out.

“Riddle! I’d rather that we don’t plunge into the lake! I heard it’s quite slimy!”

“Ew what? Riddle!” You panicked, shouting for Riddle and jumping on your toes. “Get us out!”

Riddle huffed, crawling back to poke his head through the now large hole.

“I’m trying! Jade, can you lift the Prefect on your shoulders.” Riddle ignored your protest and continued to speak. “Just lift them, so I can pull them up, then the two of us can try to reach for you.”

You blinked in confusion, processing Riddle words before paling.

“Wait, what—AH!” You felt Jade’s hands grab your knees, looking down to see the back of Jade’s head settle between your thighs as he lifted you on his shoulders. A small shriek slipped your slips as you grasped at Jade’s hair, pulling hard enough to make him wince, so that you could steady yourself.

Oh, fuck. Their hands, their thighs, it’s better than anything I could imagine…

You panicked at another one of Jade’s daydreams. This one of Jade between your legs, thighs squeezing the sides of his head and hands pulling the teal strands in his head as you arched your back and cried out his name. You tightened your thighs instinctually, regretting it as you felt Jade’s breath shudder. You felt it, even with the tights blocking your bare skin.

“RIDDLE! GET ME OUT!! NOW!” You launched your hands and body up, making Jade stumble forward as you tried reaching for the ledge that was still out of your grasp.

“I’m going! Do not yell at me like you’re me!” Riddle’s hands were now within your reach, the tips of your fingers brushing against each other. “Jade, push them up higher or something. I can’t reach!”

You felt Jade move his hands to cradle beneath your thighs, lifting you as you nearly made it to freedom’s grasp.

“Riddle, have you managed to get—Aye, hijo de puta!”

You felt yourself dropping again, Riddle’s hands now quickly fading away while Jade’s grasp tightened against your legs.

You heard your scream echo against the stone walls as you two fell through the tunnel. At some point, Jade had let go of you to grab at your waist again, tucking you against his chest as he curled around you and braced.

It certainly helped, as he took the brunt of the fall against the cold waters of the lake underneath the school castle.

Chill seeped through your bones, hair and lab coat billowing around you as you finally opened your eyes to see nothing but dark, green murky water. Below you was more darkness, the tops of a seaweed forest underneath your feet. You think you could make out a few fish, even one of those giant catfish Vargas made his camp attendees fish for.

However, you missed the large, silver large-toothed fish darting between the seaweed, only noticing it as it was charging at you. Bubbles flew out of your mouth as you screamed, shutting your mouth again, and attempting to swim quickly to the surface. Luckily for you, you made it rather quick as a familiar webbed, green hand snatched your hand as Jade bolted to the surface.

Breaking the water, you gasped for a deep breath, brushing your bangs from your face and blinking away water from your eyelashes. You frantically whipped your head around, searching for Jade, as you called out his name in a panic.

“Jade? Jade! Where are you? Jade!” You yelped as he breached the water, brushing his hair back. He had a scrape on his arm that he was studying with mild irritation.

“What an annoying creature—oh!” Jade grunted in surprise as you threw your hands over him, clutching at his shoulders.

“Jade! Are you hurt? What was that? Is it gonna get us?! Oh my god, JADE IT’S GONNA GET US, WE GOTTA GO!” You babbled on and on, hyper focused on looking at the water below you for signs of the aggressive fish. Which proved meaningless, as you couldn’t see anything besides the dark green water.

You paused at Jade’s sudden laughter, growing louder as his chest shook, and his eyes squinted in mirth. Looking at him with furrowed brows, you tilted your head as he reached over to cup your cheeks. He squeezed them together, making you pucker your lips as his laughter died down.

He’s…laughing! Like, fully laughing! I’ve…ever seen him laugh! Woah!

“My dear, relax!” Jade managed to stifle his laughter, now softly chuckling. Something more characteristic of him.

He has a nice laugh, actually. Not like Floyd’s, it’s just more… Jade. I guess…it suits him!

“I can assure you, I am just about the scariest thing in this lake at this moment. Nothing is going to come for us as long as I remain in my merform. But your concern for me is delightful.”

So sweet.

Jade looked at you fondly, eyes darting down to your lips, making your breath catch in your chest.

Is he gonna…?

“We should head to the shore and start heading back up. I imagine Riddle is quite worried about you.”

Jade suddenly let go of your cheeks, instead moving to swim on his stomach, gesturing for you to grab his back.

“Here, allow me to help you to shore.”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you carefully maneuvered around his dorsal fin. You were reminded of the time you got trapped in the Scarabia desert and had to swim through the river Kalim made. Though this time you had a different twin to be your ride.

“Heh, kinda familiar, huh? Though you had Grim and Azul with you back then, right?”

Jade started wading through the water, one of his own hands reaching up to hold yours on his chest.

“Yes, you were with Floyd last time. That was quite the time, wasn’t it? You found yourself in trouble more often than the average person.”

“It’s not like I mean to! It just sorta happens!” You pouted, debating on pinching Jade, as he chuckled at your offended response.

You decided to look up at the shore Jade swam to, noticing two figures walking along the coliseum pathway.

“Hey, I think that’s them! Hey! Riddle! Yev!” You called out to the two figures, drawing their attention. You waved a free hand, squealing as Jade sped up, making you fall against his back and clasp onto him again.

“Jade! Careful!”

“Now, now, my pearl.” This was the first time he’d ever refer to you as ‘pearl’ outside his thoughts. Though, he was more focused on your arms around him rather than the words coming out of his mouth.

“Have faith. I would never let you get hurt under my care.”

Jade sped back up, and despite yourself, you let out small screams of glee as adrenaline ran through your veins as you rode on Jade like a rollercoaster at a water park.

It took but a minute to make it to the shore, much sooner than the pair of students who were still making their way over. You crawled off Jade and up the sandy shore, grabbing your hair and wringing the water out. You hear the shimmering sound you’d associated with the twins and Azul’s transformation, turning to see Jade dusting himself off, perfectly dry in his lab uniform.

“…Are you kidding?”

Jade looked up, looking at you with confusion.

“I beg your pardon?”

“You’re dry! You literally were just a merman, in the water, and now you’re just dry!?”

Jade looked taken aback, before laughing at your angry face.

Oh, my! How cute! You’re almost never angry, what a delightful view!

“My apologies for not being courteous enough to suffer alongside you.” Jade walked over to you as you started working getting the water out of your goggles. He was still chuckling at you.

“It’s a perk of our transformation potions. Quite convenient, yes. Oh, but you poor thing. All soaked.”

Jade stopped, a blush filling his cheeks as he stared at your torso. He turned away, clearing his throat.

“I do believe that the water soaked through…ah…your shirt.”

A gasp left your mouth, looking down to quickly snatch your lab coat closed and button it up. It didn’t really matter, though, as Jade’s mind was filled with the image of your wet, seek through shirt and the view of your chest.

Today…has…been so, so wonderful~

You sighed, looking over to the students walking over.

“I’ll ask Riddle to help dry me off with a spell or something. Though…that’s not him.”

You squinted at the pair, now within a reasonable view, realizing it was Aspen and Wynfred.

Did you? Did they follow me here?!

“Prefect, there you are—why are you wet?” Aspen stopped, looking your sopping form up and down with a raised brow. “And Jade too—ugh, never mind.”

“Wynfred here has something he’d like to tell you, but you left before he could. It’s something incredibly important! Go on Wynfred, tell them!”

Aspen turned around and pushed Wynfred, who was digging his feet into the ground, towards you and Jade as you wring water out of your clothes. A small trench was forming as Aspen continued to push the frozen ginger closer to you, who was currently clenching his fists to his sides. Staring at you wide-eyed, Wynfred’s eyes darted between you and Aspen, who was smiling and gesturing to you.

“Go on…” Do it, you idiot!

“Uh, is everything alright? Wynfred, are you okay? Did something happen? Did you get hurt or—”

“PLEASE GO OUT WITH ME!” With a sudden burst of confidence, Wynfred ran forward to grasp your hands with his. “I think you’re a wonderful housewarden! And I am equally great, so we’d make a great pair!!”

His sparkling eyes would be cute, if it wasn’t for how tightly he clenched your hands. And Aspen, of course.

Yes! Go out with him, so I can get you off of Jade’s back! Come on! Say something! Do you know how hard it was to convince him to ask you out?! Say something!

Wynfred’s very sudden confession, which you're doubting was a real confession and not just a misguided push from Aspen, shut you and the surrounding area up. The silence was deafening. Even the birds and the breeze stopped, as if mocking your predicament. Minus the scandalous gasp from your left, no one spoke.

Wait, who the hell gasped?

You turned to look at Riddle and Yev, who had run down the castle to meet you and Jade. Though, Riddle looked like he just swallowed a lemon, while Yev was clutching a hand to his chest as he looked at your group with an open mouth.

“Oh my—WYNFRED SALSON!” Yev marched over with a furious look, snatching Wynfred by the ear to scold him. “What in the world makes you think you can just go up to a housewarden and demand a date from them! That is not how a proper Pomefiore student acts!”

You backed away as Yev continued scolding Wynfred, pitying him. Riddle walked over to you and leaned down to inspect your face and arms, prodding at you and checking for any wounds.

“Well, that is certainly awkward. Are you alright? You didn’t get hurt, did you?”

“Ah, no.” You shook your head, smiling as you turned to look at Jade. “Jade actually…”

You froze, as did Riddle, upon noticing Jade’s expression. Or, more accurately, the lack thereof. Instead of his usual smile, or even the sweet ones he’d been giving you earlier, Jade’s face was a blank slate, eyes focused solely on Wynfred’s form.

I will drag you into the deepest depths known to man until the pressure pops your eyes out of your sockets, your heart bursts, and your lungs fill with the bitter cold of the sea. I will watch your body turn into bloody, liquified mush you stupid, arrogant, waste of space! Stay away from my mate! Mine! Mine! Mine! MINE!

Jade's expression quickly changed back to his usual smile, though he was still emanating an aura that could be best described as “bloodthirsty”. Murderous even! Sanguinary, if you wanted to be poetic. Riddle at least had noticed it, as he leaned close to whisper.

“Did something happen with Jade? I figured he would be annoyed that he fell into the lake, but he seems…rather….”

“Homicidal?”

“I was going to be nice and say ‘furious,’ but yes. Homicidal fits quite well.”

“Ugh!” Wynfred started shoving against Yev, who was still rambling angrily at Wynfred for his ‘lack of etiquette’ apparently.

“Look, Prefect! I would quite like to go out with you on a date! I think you’re very nice to everyone in the dorm, and I am also nice!”

You think Wynfred chose to ignore Aspen’s snort, green eyes darting to him and back to you.

“Besides, I’ve been told that we’d make a great match! Just ask Aspen! He’s the one who suggested that I—MmmPh!”

Aspen ran over to slap his hand over Wynfred’s mouth, laughing nervously as he glanced at Jade. Said man was now squinting at Aspen with annoyance and distaste.

Really, Aspen? I expected better from you, little squid.

“I was just, uh, supporting my fellow roommate!” The pink haired boy continued to nervously laugh. “You know how it is! I’m just being benevolent, l-like the Sea Witch!”

Jade let out a small chuckle, tilting his head. “Is that so?”

“Yes!” Wynfred managed to shove Aspen’s hands away, reaching for yours again, though his smile faltered as you stumbled back. “Sorry! I don’t mean to be so forward. But I know how busy you’ll be getting as Halloween comes up, and I wanted to ask you on a date during the celebration so that—”

“Oh no. I’m afraid that simply won’t work.” Jade finally stepped forward, wrapping a hand around your shoulders and bringing you close.

Riddle made a noise, and from the corner of your eye you could see him give Jade a disapproving glare.

“W-what? Why!” Wynfred thinned his lips, glaring at Jade and his hold around you.

I’d make for a great date! My siblings say so! Aspen says so too!

Jade titled his head, giving Wynfred a mock sympathetic look.

“Well, the Prefect will simply be too busy with helping me with selling products for Octavinelle during Halloween. After all, Ramshackle’s haunted amusement park makes for the perfect environment to sell food and drinks, especially at the prices Azul places.”

I’m sure I can convince him to do so easily enough.

“What?” Aspen scoffed, blinking at Jade incredulously. “Azul never mentioned that!”

“Oh, we were still figuring out the details. Our lovely Prefect here was going to help us.” Jade cooed as he leaned down to rest his cheek against the top of your head.

Mine.

“But we can discuss more once Azul has the finer details figured out. Now, if you two don’t mind, we all need to be heading back to Yev’s lab and get started on our project. We’ve lost valuable time with this trap door fiasco, haven’t we?”

“Right…” You slowly answered, looking at Riddle who nodded, still eyeing Jade. Yev perked up, wiping imaginary dust off his lab uniform as he too agreed.

“Right, you are Jade. I’m not done with you, Wynfred. I will be speaking to you about your manners later this week.”

Yev sneered at Wynfred, who scoffed in return, as he turned his heel and waved for your group to follow. Jade did so, giving Wynfred another blank stare before turning to you and smiling.

“Shall we?” Let’s go, my pearl.

“Uh, give me a sec. Riddle, can you help me with a drying spell?”

“Oh, of course. Excuse me.” Riddle walked around Jade as he took out his wand, shooing Jade and the two freshmen still lingering. “Go, we will meet you there. And you two.”

Both of the younger students froze under Riddle’s gaze. The redhead’s reputation and strict gaze followed him everywhere it seemed.

“You’ve made the day excitable enough, off you go. Perhaps think about learning more tact, especially around your upperclassmen. Go”

The stern end of his sentence spooked the two to run off to Ramshackle, you presume. Riddle cleared his throat, drawing your attention as the tip of his wand glowed a soft red.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on with you and Jade?” Riddle asked, showing you the pattern he waved his wand in for you to copy and use on your legs. Your friend focused on your arms and back.

“Nothing! I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You quickly replied, focusing on keeping the spell up.

“Oh? So he wasn’t all over you when that fresh tried asking you out? He didn’t shut him down and stare him down like he wanted to tear him apart with his teeth? (Name), please. Don’t take me for a fool.”

“I’m not! It’s not what you think.”

“And what do you think I think?” That I’m a dullard?

“I don’t think you’re a dullard, or whatever, it’s just complicated!”

Riddle huffed, giving you a once over as he hooked his arm with yours and dragged you up to the castle steps.

“I didn’t say that part out loud, you know.”

…Huh?

“What are you talking about?”

Riddle scoffed, reaching over to adjust your tie. Something he’d often do for you.

“I noticed pretty early on. It’s quite easy to tell when someone is reading your mind when they react to each and everything you say and think.”

“What! How do you—”

“That, and also Ace is known for his loud mouth.”

You tossed your head back, groaning as you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“That dumbass.”

A small laugh left Riddle’s lips, smiling as you glared at him. “Don’t worry. I gave him a stern talking to. If it helps, he was only discussing it with Deuce, who I assume you also told?”

Nodding in affirming, Riddle continued, “I guessed. It certainly explains your strange behavior at times. Though I do have one question.”

“Shoot.”

“How long have you known about Jade’s feelings for you?”

“WHAT—oof!” You tripped over the castle steps, just barely catching yourself with Riddle grabbing your arm. “What are we talking about?”

“Floyd cornered me a few weeks ago. Both of our clubs got off at the same time, and he chased me around until he cornered me in one of the stables. He was complaining about how Jade got to be around his ‘mate’ all the time for class, but he barely saw his own.”

Annoying eel he is. Why would I care about his damn love life?

Riddle rolled his eyes at the mention of Floyd, though he continued.

“It didn’t click until earlier, when I saw how…hmm…handsy he was with you.”

You sighed, “It’s that noticeable?”

“Only sometimes.” Riddle shrugged, patting your shoulder consolingly. “Especially when that poor freshman tried asking you out. Speaking of that, what are you going to tell him?”

You blinked at Riddle, confused. “What do you mean?”

Oh dear, catch up, Prefect.

Riddle sighed, “Well, it’s not always appropriate for a housewarden to date one of their students. You’ll turn him down, yes? Besides, with how your admirer was looking at him, it would most likely be better for Wynfred’s well-being anyway.”

“Oh, yeah. You’re right…”

You let out a tired sigh. Most likely, you’d have to take an extra long bath tonight to get the stress out of your bones.

“I’ll let him down gently later. Apparently, I have to talk to Azul about being a food vendor for the dorm’s haunted house.”

When you finally made it back to the classroom, a panel in the wall revealed a staircase, which Yev and Jade were waiting by. Jade’s eyes lit up at the sight of you, though he physically remained poised and proper.

Welcome back, my darling! I hope that nasty little barnacle didn’t ruin your mood!

You chose to ignore Jade and called out to Yev, “So you said you had an idea for our final project. What kind of potion were you thinking?”

Yev perked up, proudly puffing his chest. “Oh yes, you two should love this! We will be making a blot preventative! I bet you two wished you had that last year, hm? I know, I’m brilliant!”

Both you and Riddle stared blankly at Yev, who was still standing proud, as Jade eyed him disapprovingly.

“Hey, Riddle, what if I jumped out the window? For fun?”

“I’d still put a leash on you.”

“Damn.”

comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷

#twst #twisted wonderland #jade leech #jade leech x reader #twst jade #jade leech x yuu #mochi fic #the private thoughts (not) of a moray #ptm #twst jade x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader

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halfwayhearted · 2 months ago

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heyyyy ! i was wondering if i could request hector fort x reader at a haunted house?

Ghost Highway — Héctor Fort.

Pairing: Héctor Fort x Fem!Reader

Summary: In which you’re scared, and he… well, he is too.

Word Count: 560+

Disclaimer/s — Fluff, and hello, HAPPY HALLOWEEN.

A/N: This was actually so 😭💞 to write, it’s quite short, Soz!

How Héctor managed to convince you? No clue.

Going to a ‘Spooky Halloween October Fest’ was something you had on your list of things to do for weeks, if not months. And what better opportunity to go with your boyfriend than now?

That was until he caught sight of the haunted house. You declined, one after the other, yet he was as determined as ever to get you to agree. With a little bribing of free food and sweet treats for a couple of months, you finally caved.

He held out his hand, and you grabbed two of his fingers, already bracing yourself for the jumpscares and unnecessarily scary sound effects. You hated being scared. Loathed it, even.

“I swear,” you murmur after one of the workers looks over at the two of you and nods, “I’m starting to think your bribe wasn’t worth this.”

All the Fort boy does is laugh, rolling his eyes.

Things were going fine—if it weren’t for the yells and screams from the people way ahead of you, warning you of what’s to come. But still, it was going fine… for the time being, you supposed.

That’s when you both turn a corner, and a woman in a witch costume jumps out, eyes wide with fake blood trailing down her jaw. You jump, letting out a yelp as you let go of your boyfriend and hurry past the scare actor, leaving him behind.

Catching up to you, he couldn’t help but let a big smile grace his lips. “You scare easily, huh?”

“I scare easily when it’s something unexpected.”

“You couldn’t see her hat peeking out?” He asks, gratefully lending you his arm when he sees you reaching out for it. “Because it was right there.”

Your brows instantly furrowed, “If I did notice her, would I have jumped and run away from you?”

“Point taken—” he’s cut off when a loud effect sounds, his body jolting slightly and instinctively pulling you toward him, making you giggle.

“I actually think that made me feel a lot better.”

How would that make you feel better? He had thought, looking down at you with narrowed eyes. “What? Me flinching? I wasn’t expecting it.”

“No, the fact that I got scared by an actual person and you were spooked by a literal loud audio.”

From your teasing alone, Héctor slid his arm out of your grip and quickened his pace, making you tense at the thought and feeling of being alone. It didn’t help that the background music turned from calm and eerie to loud and suspenseful.

“Héctor!” You whisper-shouted, watching how he disappeared into the next room. You winced. Was he seriously leaving you alone? “Héctor! Please.”

Cautiously entering the dark room, you instantly let out a scream when you heard the whisper of a faint ‘boo’ in your ear. Your eyes clamped shut, and you were about to bolt when familiar arms wrapped around your waist. “It’s just me. I—” he was unable to finish his sentence due to his loud laughter. You could’ve been annoyed. You really could’ve been. But you weren’t, not even a little bit. Instead you smiled and swatted at his arms.

“You’re insufferable!” You huffed. “Like, really?”

“Do you want to leave? We’re close to the end.”

Of course that’s what you wanted. “I think you’re an insufferable genius. Come on, come on!”

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated ^_^.

DT(s) — @planetpedri + @spidybaby ! ౨ৎ

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amongemeraldclouds · 2 months ago

Text

haunted house | jess mariano | flufftober masterlist | 1.1k words

You cautiously stepped into the haunted house, eyeing cobwebs and skeletons. It took a moment for your vision to adjust to the darkness and see further into the room. Groups rushed past you, eager for a thrill. You took a deep breath and steeled yourself, hyp--

"Boo," a voice suddenly appeared, startling you.

You turned, your mouth curled into a frown as you recognized Jess Mariano. "Oh of all people--" you began. It just had to be him, the boy who loved playing pranks on you.

The first time you met him was at a baking class. You thought he was cute until he opened his mouth and you got to know him in all his sarcastic glory. When he swapped your sugar with salt, all lingering embers of your crush had quickly been snuffed out.

"Happy Halloween to you too," he said brightly, interrupting you, hands stuffed in his jacket pocket.

Your eyes narrowed in suspicion, "I don't trust your smile."

"What? It's just a smile," he shrugged nonchalantly, but you knew better.

"Go be a public nuisance elsewhere," you raised your hands, gesturing to far off corners in the place as you hurried deeper into the house and away from him.

"But I'd rather be a public nuisance here," he said, walking beside you. "It's a free country, you know."

You turned to him and opened your mouth to respond, but just then, a ghost in a ghastly mask jumped up from nowhere and you screamed in terror. You found your arms clutched around Jess, face hidden in his chest.

Then real mortification set in when you came back to your senses and looked up. Your face was only a few inches away from him, close enough to kiss. The smell of laundry and sweat invaded your senses and you didn't know what to make of it. Jess smelled good.

The dim lighting cast the perfect mix of shadow and light, rewarding you with a flattering view of his features. All sharp jawed and boyish charm.

His lips quirked, almost as if he could read your thoughts. Before you knew it, he had grabbed your hand and you were speeding off, deeper into the haunted house.

You felt your heart pounding in your chest, trying to match the pace of your sprinting feet. You could hardly take in the graveyard and mummies for you were too keenly aware of how he gripped your hand with an unspoken promise not to let go.

Where was the boy who laughed at your misery? Why was he suddenly so protective? And the question you tried to ignore: why did it feel good to have him on your side for once?

He pulled you into a dark corner, away from screaming people and grim figures. You squeezed into the tight space together, catching your breath.

You peered around the corner, making sure no one could sneak up on you. When you looked in front of you, there he was again, smirking at you.

You scolded yourself for staring at his lips. You wanted to hit him there, maybe with your own lips. For once, you were glad to have been in a dark room where he couldn't see your blushing cheeks. It was all too confusing.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" You asked, but your words had no venom as your mind and body rushed through the roller coaster of fear and attraction.

"What? How dare they scare you like that?" He said indignantly, pointing in the house's general direction.

You raised your arms in frustration, "you literally prank me all the time!"

"Yeah, I can do it, but who the hell do they think they are?" He shot back.

"I don't think you're hearing yourself properly and at least it's their job! You--"

Your words were drowned by another scream as you noticed a masked serial k*ller running towards you with a knife. You grabbed Jess' hand this time and took the lead, running deeper into the house.

You ran through doors and hallways, past the zombies and ghosts that came from dark corners. But you could hardly focus when you were too keenly aware of the warm, fluttery feelings that surprised and horrified you. The real danger was the person whose hand you held.

At least masked men and cheap animatronics were make believe. Jess, on the other hand, felt far too real and would linger long after pumpkins withered and leaves bloomed on trees again.

You exited the haunted house, dazed. It was far from the thrill you sought out when you first entered. You were lost in your own thoughts that you didn't realize you were still holding his hand. Jess, for his part, made no move to extracte it.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Jess quipped after a few moments of silence.

"Very funny," you said drily as you stared straight ahead.

"Come on, let's have some hot cider or spiced latte," he said, motioning to a nearby cafe.

"What? So you could put barbecue sauce in my drink when I'm not looking?" You asked suspiciously, though you found yourself following him.

"That was one time, I never repeat my masterpiece," he said proudly. "Besides, you got ketchup in my soda too so we're even." You laughed at the memory.

"How about we call a truce? We did just survive a horror experience together, that kind of thing bonds people together."

"Jess..." you started, hesitant and let go of his hand.

"Haven't we had enough tricks throughout the years?" He asked, "maybe it's time for a treat. Let me buy you a drink?"

"Can't say no to a free drink," you agreed after a long pause, everyone knew that was a universal law. "Then I can hurl fake spiders at you afterwards?" You asked even though you didn't particularly feel like throwing anything, unless it was your hands in his hair or your mouth on-- nope. You were definitely not thinking unholy thoughts about your enemy.

"You can even toss in fake eyeballs, go all out," he offered generously.

"Fine," you huffed, inwardly kicking all the butterflies that swarmed in your stomach. You liked the idea of a truce, continuing to have him on your side.

"Fine," he echoed, opening the door for you.

You looked at his smile illuminated by the cafe light. For a second, you were caught off guard by how genuine and unguarded it looked. You had a feeling there was a whole other side to him you were about to discover.

It all felt new. Except, perhaps it wasn't. It seemed more like a sudden awareness of something that had been brewing through the years. But there'd be time to sort it out later. For now, you were about to have apple cider with Jess, your enemy and maybe (definte) crush. It was a real treat this Halloween. The rest could wait.

#jess mariano fluff #jess mariano x y/n #jess mariano x you #jess mariano x reader #jess mariano imagine #jess mariano fanfic #jess mariano #gilmore girls fic #gilmore girls fanfiction #gilmore girls #amongemeraldcloudswrites #amongemeraldclouds fluff #flufftober on emerald clouds #flufftober

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purplekissinger · 11 months 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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