#no rational reason why he'd care for the man

[il3x]

so Bradshaw definitely drew some conclusions right

[sativariddle]

ILVERMORNY GIRL ꒰ t.n. ꒱

ㅤ────── ❝ never mentioned a boyfriend. ❞

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ navigation. ( 10k+ words. )

AUTHOR’S NOTE: if you don’t enjoy my content, there’s no need for you to stick around. i’m not responsible for what you choose to engage with. turning this into a series, so yes! you will be left on a little cliffhanger!

WARNINGS: contains themes of abusive relationships, sexual content, foul language, mention of character death, manipulation, cheating, and characters making poor decisions.

SUMMARY: a week long stay at ilvermorny sounds like a dream, doesn’t it? the castle is breathtaking: grand halls, towering spires, and enchanted corridors. but as it turns out, the architecture won’t be the only thing capturing theodore’s gaze with such admiration.

MCHT.

mcht. mcht. mcht: the soft, wet sound of lips meeting and parting echoed in the air with an almost hypnotic noise. the pressure of parted mouths gently pressing and then releasing in a fluid dance.

the room bathed in a deep purple light that made everything feel dreamlike and surreal, as if it were pressing against your skin, sending a subtle pulse to your temple. shadows cast against the walls swayed with each movement, the warmth of breath mingled, the scent of something floral lingered, blending with the quiet rustle of clothing.

theodore couldn't fathom how he ended up here, nor did he care to remember when. his mind was too preoccupied with the girl straddling his lap, humping his thigh like a bitch in heat. he had never been this hard, or turned on in his life.

“you got a condom?”

theodore barely registered the speed at which the words left his mouth. they tumbled out in a rushed breath, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. maybe he was speaking too fast - maybe he wasn’t - maybe it didn’t fucking matter. his father had been riding his ass about this insufferable party for weeks, insisting that it was a necessary event, an opportunity that theodore simply could not afford to miss.

it was halfway across the damn world, and the only reason he’d agreed to come was to shut the old man up. but now that he was here, drowning in a sea of pretentious laughter and clinking champagne flutes, it hadn’t taken long for his attention to be stolen by something far more interesting.

a distraction. a bit of entertainment. and, hell, why not indulge himself? if nothing else, it was the perfect way to spit in his father’s face; an act of defiance wrapped up in pleasure.

and merlin help him, there was no stopping it now. the air between them was filled with something so so so electric, and when her response came, it sent a sharp jolt through him.

“no condom.” no condom? what?

the words rang in his ears, echoing louder than the music in the background. no condom? what the hell did that even mean? his brain scrambled to keep up, teetering between confusion and the overwhelming heat pooling low in his stomach. he parted his lips to ask, to clarify - but she beat him to it.

“i’ll just take the pill tomorrow.” the pill?

the sheer implication of it - of feeling her bare, nothing between them, no barriers, no interruptions - hit him so fucking hard he nearly lost himself right then and there. his fingers twitched at his sides, need clawing at him that made it almost impossible to think straight.

he should have said something. he should have asked are you sure? or maybe even considered the rationality of it. but shit — all he could do was swallow hard, pulse hammering in his throat, as his restraint threatened to snap entirely.

theodore never imagined a one night stand could sear itself into his memory so vividly. despite his initial assumption that he'd forget it all by dawn, the encounter haunted his thoughts. days turned into weeks, weeks into months. even when theodore returned to hogwarts, he wasted no time recounting the night to his friends, every detail still burning fresh in his mind.

no matter how many days passed, his thoughts never strayed far from her. he could still feel her touch, hear her soft little breathless moans, the way her body had fit so perfectly against his, as if she had been made to be in his arms. and salazar, she had been beautiful. the kind of beauty that stayed, that settled deep in his bones and refused to fade, no matter how hard he tried to shake it.

theodore thought about her so often that he started seeking out others just to chase her touch. but it was never the same - never her.

no matter how many hands traced his skin or how many lips pressed against his, none of them ignited that fire, that raw, breath stealing power she had. and afterward, when it was over, he would just find himself staring at the nearest wall, mind tangled in the same question: how the hell did he get so hung up on a girl he’d never see again?

he had never been the type to believe in destiny, never bought into the whole everything happens for a reason bullshit. that wasn’t how life worked - at least, not for him. yet, for the first time, he found himself wondering if maybe - just maybe - he had been wrong.

ILVERMORNY SCHOOL OF witchcraft and wizardry stood proudly atop mount greylock, its grand stone structure blending seamlessly with the wilderness surrounding it. unlike the towering, medieval spires of hogwarts, ilvermorny had a sort of elegance - all smooth gray stone walls with enchanted ivy that shifted colors with the seasons. wide terraces and arched windows overlooking the garden, forests stretching far beyond the mountain’s edge, rivers carved through valleys and mist clung to the treetops.

golden sun painted streaks of amber across the sky as the hogwarts seventh years disembarked from the enchanted portkey onto ilvermorny’s grounds. the air smelled different here: crisp laced with pine. a huge difference from the damp, mossy aroma of the scottish highlands. the week long exchange program was meant to give students the chance to experience life at other wizarding schools, possibly transferring for their eighth and final year if they felt a stronger connection elsewhere.

at the main entrance, massive carved doors bore the symbols of the four houses: thunderbird, wampus, horned serpent, and pukwudgie - each shimmering faintly as if alive with magic.

the castle’s peaked rooflines and grand columns gave it the appearance of an old, enchanted manor, standing timeless. encircled by pines and hidden paths leading to who knows where, ilvermorny felt less like a fortress and more like a secret - one kept by the mountain itself.

the kind of beauty you’d want to keep to yourself, too precious to share with anyone else. theodore was no stranger to that kind of beauty - it almost rivaled with the girl from that one night at the ball halfway across the world. almost.

dumbledore stood before them, robes billowing slightly in the cool wind, moon glasses perched at the end of his nose. “now,” the old man began, voice smooth like butter. “before we officially begin our week long stay at ilvermorny, i would like to establish a few rules.”

a collective groan — mostly from the slytherins. “as guests, you will be expected to conduct yourselves with the utmost decorum,” he continued. “this includes respecting ilvermorny’s customs, following their curfew, and refraining from any behavior that may cause unnecessary…” he paused, as if carefully selecting his next words. “… incidents.”

dumbledore exhaled slowly through his thin nose. “which is precisely why i feel the need to emphasize these rules before the headmaster arrives -“

“ - there will be no sneaking out past curfew,” he continued, eyes flicking directly to mattheo, who looked entirely unbothered. “no unauthorized use of magic outside of class,” - a glance at blaise, who merely arched a brow - “and absolutely no unsanctioned broom races across the ilvermorny grounds.”

draco cleared his throat loudly, pointedly averting his gaze. “i’d like to assume you’re all mature enough to use protection when necessary - pun very much intended.” a stunned silence followed.

several students exchanged side glances, brows raised, as if silently questioning whether they had actually just heard that. “furthermore,” dumbledore went on, shifting his gaze, “i trust there will be no incidents involving the local wildlife.”

as if choreographed, the entire group turned in perfect unison toward berkshire. enzo, refusing to meet their stares, suddenly found the rock at his feet to be the most fascinating thing in the world.

“albus dumbledore!” agilbert fontaine, a man with a full beard streaked with silver, strode toward the group of hogwarts seventh years. his presence alone was enough to demand respect, but his tone carried a warmth that made it clear he was pleased to see them. “how excited and utterly honored we are to have you join us.”

beside him walked a girl who looked to be around their age. she had large brown eyes that darted between them, her expression caught somewhere between curiosity and discomfort. a tight lipped, awkward smile tugged at her lips, her thin, straight brows slightly furrowed as if unsure how to carry herself in the moment.

to fontaine’s left was you, also appearing to be in their year. a pair of small metallic balls gleamed on your eyebrow. your smile was small, barely there - just the faintest curve at the corner of your lips, almost forced, as if it had been placed there out of habit rather than genuine feeling. beside you, a boy with dark, spiky hair had an arm draped lazily around your shoulders, fingers absentmindedly toying with the ends of your hair.

you, however, barely seemed to notice - gaze fixed straight ahead, unfocused, as though you were somewhere else entirely.

rather than being in house colors, the ilvermorny uniform features blue robes fastened at the front with a gold gordian knot clasp, beneath the robes, a tailored cranberry colored blazer, paired with a white shirt and a tie.

“i appreciate you for having us,” dumbledore said. fontaine clasped the hogwarts headmaster in a firm embrace, their chuckles rich. the two wizards stood momentarily lost in their shared history, the students behind them shifted awkwardly, exchanging uncertain glances as they waited for further instruction.

“i’d assume albus has already gone over the rules,” fontaine mused, pulling away to meet dumbledore’s knowing gaze. with a simple nod of confirmation from dumbledore, fontaine turned his attention to the three students before him, eyes sweeping over them with pride.

“these are my best,” he declared, gesturing to the ilvermorny studnets standing nearby. “we’ll be splitting you all into groups since managing every single one of you at once would be impossible.”

he wasn’t exaggerating. the number of seventh years was startling - nearly two hundred, maybe more, their figures casting long shadows. some stood tall with curiosity, others with thinly veiled exhaustion from the journey, while a few barely concealed their irritation.

“this is novalie,” fontaine continued, resting a firm hand on the shoulder of a dark haired girl who shifted slightly under the weight of so many eyes. “ravenclaw and hufflepuff, follow her.” novalie gave a small, almost hesitant wave as students began peeling away from the group, forming an orderly line in front of her.

blaise caught draco’s eye, smirking as he tilted his head toward novalie in silent amusement. mattheo and pansy exchanged a knowing glance; they had seen that look before. blaise zabini had already marked his next target. the way his dark eyes flicked over novalie, considering, was enough to confirm it.

enzo rolled his eyes, already prepared to make a joke about blaise and his horrible flirting skills, but the words died in his throat when he turned and realized theodore wasn’t paying attention. at all.

instead, theodore’s gaze was locked on someone. his posture had stiffened, lips parted ever so slightly, brows knit together as if his mind was struggling to catch up with what his eyes were telling him.

“mate?” lorenzo gave him two rough pats on the back, snapping him out of his trance.

theodore blinked rapidly, swallowing hard before muttering, “do you remember the girl i fucked in a purp-“ “- the only thing you ever talk about?” pansy cut in, arms crossed, letting out a dramatic huff. “yeah, everyone fucking knows.” theodore barely registered her interruption. his pulse pounded in his ears, and his stomach twisted as he tried to process the impossibility standing before him.

“yeah, well, she’s right th -“

before he could finish, fontaine’s voice cut through the air. “gryffindor, go with -” when fontaine said your name; theodore barely breathed as he watched you step forward, a familiar face in an entirely unfamiliar place. it was you. he fucking knew it. the girl from across the world. the one who had occupied his thoughts for longer than he cared to admit.

“ - slytherin, go with archer cassius.” but then, the final blow - the bloke beside you slipped an arm around your waist effortlessly, then leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your lips, casually, like it was something he’d done a thousand times before.

archer cassius. even his name sounded so fucking stupid. theodore had to physically stop himself from reacting, from demanding to know who the fuck that was and what gave him the right.

he didn’t know - nor did he care - how he looked staring at the two of you, his eyes blinking rapidly as if that would somehow change what he was seeing. maybe his mind was playing tricks on him. maybe this wasn’t real. but it was. and though you had never promised him anything, though he never once let himself believe he’d see you again, that didn’t stop the sharp sting in his chest.

slytherins began moving toward archer, but theodore’s feet felt rooted to the ground, his attention locked on you as you began walking away, gryffindors trailing behind you.

if the blue robes weren’t covering your arms, he knew the tattoos beneath would be there - etched into your skin like a masterpiece. he had traced them with his tongue, memorizing every curve and line, convinced they looked nothing short of divine on you.

“coming?” pansy asked as the slytherins had already begun moving out of sight.

theodore exhaled sharply, rolling his eyes before reluctantly falling in step behind archer - though he made a point to linger at the very back of the line, ensuring that that motherfucker stayed well out of arm’s reach.

archer was leading them to their sleeping quarters first, then giving a tour of the key areas before they’d all be free to roam as they pleased. but theodore already knew exactly where he’d be going the moment they were dismissed.

—

the halls of ilvermorny were grand, with high arched ceilings and glowing sconces that bathed the stone corridors in warm light. you led the gryffindors through the hallways, gesturing toward the different wings as you explained the layout. their questions filled the air, excitement bursting, but your mind was elsewhere.

you could feel a pair of eyes on you, a gaze that made the fine hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. it wasn’t until the group paused near one of the towering stained glass windows that you caught sight of him.

he stood off to the side, hands buried deep in the pockets of his robes, the very picture of nonchalance - except for his eyes, locked onto you. you had assumed he was just another gryffindor tagging along, but something about the way he moved, separate from the others, made you second guess.

“can i help you?” you asked, turning toward him. he took a slow step closer, tilting his head slightly. “i was wondering about something.”

here we go.

you raised a brow. “and what’s that?”

“archer cassius,” he said, his voice smooth but laced with something else. “the boyfriend? assuming of course…” you stiffened slightly at the name, then exhaled through your nose. “yeah. he is.”

theodore let out a breath of laughter, though there was no humor in it. “huh.” he rocked back on his heels. “interesting.”

if there was one thing you hated most, it was when someone clearly had something on their mind, and instead of addressing it right away, they danced around it - almost like teasing, daring you to get them to spill. it infuriated the fuck out of you. “why do you care?”

he met your gaze. you hated how ridiculously handsome he looked, too. it’s seven in the morning why does he have to look so irresistible? “just trying to make sense of something.”

you sighed, shifting uncomfortably. “and what exactly are you trying to make sense of, theodore?”

his lips quirked, he’d be lying to himself if hearing his name on your lips didn’t bring back a memory of you screaming it just a few months ago. “back in that purple room, when we -“ he gestured between the two of you, “ - you weren’t together?”

you swallowed nervously, forcing yourself to maintain your composure. “we were on a break.”

we were on a break. the words hung between you both.

theodore’s jaw ticked. “right. a break.” he let out a quiet scoff, shaking his head. “and i suppose that meant it was meaningless, yeah?”

you opened your mouth, hesitating. “it shouldn’t have meant anything.” it shouldn’t have meant anything. it really shouldn’t have. but can’t you see how hard he tried to convince himself of that? yet, the way you felt against him, the way you didn’t just care about your own pleasure but his too - he was doomed from the moment he craved a second round. then a third. then taking you against a random shower wall for a fourth.

a humorless smirk pulled at his lips. “right. shouldn’t have.” he took another step forward, closer now. “and still, you look like you don’t believe that any more than i do.”

you clenched your jaw. “what do you want me to say, theo?”

“i don’t know,” he shrugged. “maybe the truth?”

you exhaled sharply, frustrated. “the truth is; it happened. months ago. a mistake. lets move on.”

“a mistake,” he repeated, voice low. he let the words settle before chuckling, shaking his head. “funny. it didn’t feel like one at the time.” you almost wanted to punch him for making you remember - the embarrassingly high pitched breathless moans that had even caught you off guard.

you remembered that day vividly: something had happened between you and archer a few nights beforehand, and you were still feeling so messed up from it, desperate for a distraction. that’s why you went to the party with your brother and his girlfriend. but when you couldn’t find them, you wandered, keeping your distance from the old, creepy men lingering around.

that’s when you saw theodore. everyone knew he was handsome - it was undeniable. your cousins had warned you about him, saying he was one of the biggest players at hogwarts, right alongside his group of friends. maybe that’s what made the decision easier. it would happen once, something quick, and you’d leave.

but then, the conversation started flowing. he kept inching closer, his breath smelled nice, and before you knew it, a few minutes of small talk had turned into sneaking off together. the two of you slipped into a random room, the glow of purple light casting soft shadows over scattered confetti on the floor.

there was something about the way he spoke, his accent pulling you in, making you lean just a little closer each time he said something. you had asked him about hogwarts, but the moment he started to answer, you remember cutting him off - “shut up,” you had said, before pressing your lips to his.

you glanced away, heart hammering against your ribs. this was not a conversation you wanted to have - not here, not at all. but before you could find the words to end it:

“everything okay here?”

you turned sharply to find archer standing a few feet away, brows drawn together as he looked between you and theodore.

you forced a smile. “yeah, we’re fine.”

theodore, however, had a different response. he slid his hands back into his pockets, tilting his head slightly as he regarded archer. “yeah, mate,” he said, voice knife sharp. “we’re just clearing up some... old misunderstandings.”

just to fuck around, theodore poked the side of your cheek, hoping to get a reaction. he was successful as you quickly swatted his hand away, stepping back a few steps.

archer’s gaze darkened slightly. “yeah?”

theodore smirked. “mm.”

you could feel both of their stares on you, but you refused to let it alarm you. you straightened your shoulders and turned to archer. “i was just about to finish showing them around.” the two of you had argued less than twenty four hours ago - the last thing you wanted was for archer to be angry again. or worse…

archer studied you for a second longer before nodding. “right. let me know if you need anything.” he shot theodore one last glance before stepping back to join the others.

theodore watched him go, then turned his gaze back to you. “must be nice,” he murmured, voice just low enough for you to hear. “having something so... steady.”

“bye, theo.” you reply, refusing to rise to the bait.

since theodore loved nothing more than getting under your skin, he smirked and said, “bye, babe.” you let out an annoyed sound, turning back just long enough to make sure he caught the roll of your eyes before walking away. even with your back to him, his gaze lingered on you, burning into your skin until you finally disappeared around the corner.

he didn’t see you for the rest of the day. it was clear you’d started avoiding him after your little boyfriend had come over.

he had told his friends everything that had happened, recounting the events from months ago between you two, going over the details once more. his friends made disapproving noises, having heard the story countless times before. then he told them about your earlier encounter, how he hadn’t known you had a boyfriend, or that you were supposedly ‘on a break,’ while the two of you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. and, of course, how your boy toy came running in, thinking he was your knight in shining armor.

that night, theodore went to bed, thoughts of you swirling in his mind so much that you even appeared in his dream. for a second, there you were, and just as he was about to speak to you, he woke up with a sigh, frustrated that he couldn’t even talk to you in the damn dream.

ON ONE SIDE, the seventh year hogwarts students stood in their school robes, glancing around curiously as they prepared for their first ever game of ‘capture the flag.’ opposite them, the ilvermorny seventh years stood tall and confident. at the center of it all stood fontaine, his dark blue robes shifting like waves with each movement. a knowing smile played on his lips as he addressed the assembled students.

“alright, listen up, everyone!” he called out. “we’re here to play a game that requires strategy, agility, and a bit of cunning - capture the flag. but, of course, you’ll be playing it a bit differently than you’re used to, so pay close attention.”

the hogwarts students exchanged curious glances, while the ilvermorny students smirked. across the wide stretch of grass, theodore’s gaze lingered on you. your boyfriend stood at your side, and the moment your eyes met theodore’s, he quickly looked away - as if he hadn’t been watching the two of you this whole time. ever since dumbledore and fontaine had gathered the seventh years outside for what they called a ‘small activity,’ his attention had been anything but subtle.

“here’s how it works,” fontaine continued, pacing in front of the eager crowd. “you all have a color tied to your waist - two colors, to be specific. each team will have two colors. your goal is to snatch the colors from the opposing team’s waist and hold onto them. if both colors are taken from your waist, you’re out. that means no more running around or playing - just sit out and cheer your team on.”

“sounds easy enough, yeah?” mattheo muttered to his friends, a smirk tugging at his lips. “should i take out your girl first, nott? maybe play a little dirty?” blaise chuckled, theodore simply rolled his eyes.

“if she doesn’t get you first,” he shot back before glancing in your direction. “fucking sneaky.”

“you’ll need to be quick on your feet,” fontaine continued, “because the team with the most colors at the end of the match wins. and don’t get too cocky - defense is just as important as offense. keep your eyes on your own colors, and don’t let the other team outsmart you.”

the students shifted in excitement as fontaine clapped his hands once, signaling for everyone to line up.

“any questions?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

one brave seventh year from hogwarts raised her hand. “what if someone grabs our color but doesn’t get both of them? do we still get a chance to defend?”

fontaine smiled widely, clearly pleased with the question. “very good. if someone grabs one of your colors, you’ve got a chance to tag them before they make it back to their side. you’ll need to make sure your teammates are there to back you up.”

some of the ilvermorny students chuckled, clearly ready to defend their colors. they all tied their colors securely around their waists, and the hogwarts team did the same.

“alright then,” fontaine said with a grin, stepping aside to allow dumbledore to say a few words.

dumbledore’s voice was stern. “remember, the point is not to fight, but to work together. winning isn’t as important as how you play the game. have fun, respect each other, and be safe. magic is not allowed in this game, so you’ll be relying on your legs.”

with a final nod, dumbledore stepped back, and fontaine clapped his hands again. “alright, teams! get into position, and may the best team win.”

“three… two… one -”

the moment the game started, it was absolute chaos. students lunged at each other, dodging, intertwining, and snatching at the strips of cloth fluttering from their opponents’ waists. shouts and shrieks echoed through the field, feet thundering against the ground.

you were fast, effortlessly ducking past grasping hands and slipping through gaps in the swarm of bodies. a smile tugged at your lips as you evaded yet another hogwarts student, their frustrated groan only fueling your determination.

you parted ways with archer, swiftly snatching a red cloth from a hogwarts boy as you twisted through the chaos. keeping a firm grip on your own blue cloth, you stayed alert, sidestepping anytime someone got too close or looked ready to make a move.

“gotcha - !” mattheo riddle’s voice shouted out behind you, and before you could react, he lunged. but just as his fingers nearly closed around the blue cloth at your waist, he was shoved aside - hard. he was nearly there, so fucking close, fingers barley grazing the fabric. “the fuck, nott?” mattheo staggered, catching himself just in time before face planting into the grass.

theodore stood between you and him, expression substandard as he barely spared mattheo a glance. “try someone else.”

before you could snap at theodore for interfering, lorenzo attempted to take advantage of the distraction and reached for your cloth. you were too focused on proving to theo that you could handle yourself, completely unaware of enzo creeping up behind you - but theo wasn’t, without hesitation, theodore pushed him away too.

“ -hmph. for fuck’s sake, nott -“ lorenzo huffed, glaring up at him, rolling onto his back, one hand lifting to shield his eyes from the sun - too damn bright for anyone’s liking.

“i don’t need protecting.” and to prove your point, your hand shot out in a blur, snatching a red strip from theodore’s waist before he could react.

his blue eyes widened slightly as you took off, sprinting through the chaos with his color in your grasp. “oh, you fucking -“

you knew the rules. since you had taken his color, theodore was now allowed to chase you down to retrieve it. and of course, he would take full advantage of that. his long strides closed the distance between you with ease - he could catch up in seconds, take you down, pin you beneath him, and snatch your colors, securing your loss. but this little game between you two? whether he’d admit it or not, he loved it.

you threw a smug glance over your shoulder. “what’s wrong, nott? losing?”

theodore scowled. “annoying you are.”

before you could retort, a hogwarts student purposely stuck out their foot, sending you stumbling forward. you barely caught yourself, but the distraction was enough - the hogwarts student started to smile as you began to get up, but before they could react any further, theodore swiftly grabbed the red cloth from the student who had tripped you.

with a proud smile, he made sure to take the other cloth as well. “you’re out,” he said, his voice leaking with satisfaction.

“you do know we’re on the same team, right?” the student replied, arms crossing in annoyance.

theo ignored the protest, stepping toward you instead. he extended his hand, holding the red cloths out toward you. from where you lay on the ground, the sun blinding you, all you could make out was his shape and the outstretched hand, the cloths dangling from his fingers. “take them.”

you frowned. “what are you doing?” he was handing you his team colors as a way to initiate a conversation.

“we need to talk.”

“now’s really not the -“

a sudden force slammed into theodore from the side. he lurched, nearly losing his footing, but quickly recovered. it was archer. he was really starting to piss theodore off. he couldn’t even talk to you without your damn boyfriend causing a scene.

theodore’s jaw clenched as he steadied himself, his hand instinctively curling into a fist. “are you serious?” archer scoffed. “stay the fuck away from her.”

theodore shoved him back without hesitation, his patience snapping. “how about you stay the fuck out of things that don’t concern you?”

“she does concern me! everything she does concerns me - involves me!” archer snapped.

oh, theodore was about to sink to an all time low. he barely held back a chuckle as he replied. "yeah? when i was pushing my dick inside her four times, you weren't around to worry about it, were you?" and just like that, the two lunged at each other, hands grasping at the colored strips while simultaneously trying to take the other down. the shouts around them grew louder as students scrambled out of the way, watching the scene unfold with horror.

novalie rushed forward, proudly displaying blaise’s and several other hogwarts students’ colors tied around her waist. you and novalie exchanged glances before, with a swift movement, you each grabbed the cloths from theodore and archer’s waists.

“they’re out,” novalie announced, holding up her prize. but neither boy stopped. they continued grappling, fists tightening in each other’s shirts, completely ignoring the fact that they had technically lost.

a wave of magic swept through the field, and an unseen force yanked them apart. dumbledore’s magic.

theodore and archer stumbled but quickly regained their footing, now standing nose to nose, their breathing heavy as they glared daggers at each other.“enough!” fontaine voice rang out, silencing the entire field. “both of you, my office. now.”

archer and theodore were still practically chest to chest, fists clenched, but neither argued with the headmaster. they simply turned on their heels and trudged toward the castle, following fontaine.

—

two days.

two days had passed since the chaos of capture the flag, and theodore hadn’t heard a damn thing from you. not a word. not a glance. nothing. not that he was looking for you either.

and yet, the thought of you - your voice, your fucking smirk, the way you had snatched his colors right off his waist - still rattled in his mind, completely uninvited. it pissed him off. you pissed him off. archer pissed him off. everything about this situation was so goddamn frustrating, and what was fucking worse? you still had him wrapped around your fucking finger, whether you realized it or not.

he had tried to shove it aside, distract himself, even as his friends spent the past two days talking about the upcoming ilvermorny party.

everyone was going. hogwarts and ilvermorny students alike had been raving about it - how wild it was supposed to be, how it was the place to be tonight.

theodore didn’t go.

he remained in bed while his friends hurried around, getting dressed and ready for the night. they pleaded with him over and over, insisting that a party wasn’t complete without nott, but he couldn’t bring himself to go. the thought of being surrounded by so many people was exhausting - especially when, thanks to the shared dorms, he barely had any time to himself. so, when his friends finally left, he embraced the quiet.

or at least, he tried to.

the silence left too much room for his thoughts to wander — to you. what you were doing right now. whether you’d gone to the party. whether you were in archer’s room, making his night unforgettable. the second that thought crossed his mind, he groaned and shoved his face into his pillow, thumping his head against it in frustration.

clearly, lying in bed and overthinking wasn’t working.

instead, he wandered the castle alone, his footsteps echoing softly through the corridors. the distant sound of laughter and music from the party filtered in through the open windows, but he ignored it. he wasn’t in the mood for noise, for drinking, for pretending he gave a shit about anything other than the storm inside his own head.

but then, he saw you. it was strange - he had just been thinking about you, and suddenly, there you were.

he hadn’t seen you in two days, but he could always recognize you, even from behind. the little tattoos scattered across your arms - the ones he adored on you. your hair fell to the middle of your back, and you usually carried yourself with perfect posture. but now, you were hunched over, your head in your hands. as theodore stepped closer, he noticed the subtle rise and fall of your shoulders, the faint sound of sniffles reaching his ears.

you were alone, standing near the entrance to an empty hallway, body slightly hunched as if you were trying to make yourself smaller. something felt… off. even through the half lit corridors, he could see the way your hands trembled, the way your posture screamed hesitation.

“you’re missing your big party,” he said, his voice calm. you flinched at the sound of his voice, but you didn’t turn to face him.

he took a step forward, trying to move into your line of sight so he could see your face. but the moment he moved, so did you, turning away just enough to keep yourself hidden from him.

he frowned. “what, too drunk to look at me?”

silence.

you stayed silent, and so did he. he watched you closely, searching for any sign that you were okay. when he stepped forward again, trying once more to see your face, you flinched and pulled away, still refusing to let him see you.

his stomach twisted. he stepped closer. “let me see your face.”

you shook your head instantly, stepping back. “no.” your voice was so thick - like you’d been holding back tears for a while now. “just leave me alone, theo.”

your voice carried the poundage of a forming lump, the kind that comes just before you completely break down. you never sounded like that - your tone was always sharp, laced with sarcasm, never… shaky. your words were slurred - theodore could smell the alcohol on your breath from a mile away. he clenched his jaw. “not happening. let me see.”

“no.”

his patience snapped.

before you could retreat further, he reached out, his hands catching your wrists. you struggled weakly, but you were too drunk, too sluggish, and in one swift motion, he cupped your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him.

and that’s when he saw it. a deep, ugly purple bruise spread across your cheekbone, darkened by the light but unmistakable. his fingers twitched against your skin as his breath hitched.

his grip tightened. “who the fuck did this?” it looked awful - probably even worse than it felt. the deep purple stood out harshly against your skin, made even more noticeable by the tears rolling down your face. but more than anything, it made you feel ugly. it made you feel marked.

you jerked away from him, your balance wavering as you wiped at your eyes with shaking hands. “just drop it, theodore.” you tried to make it sound like a demand, but it came out more like a plea. “this is your fucking fault for telling him… telling him -“ your voice broke, the words tangled in hiccups, sobs, and drunken slurs. you couldn’t even get them out. “just drop it. please.”

he wasn’t dropping shit. his jaw clenched so tightly it ached, his mind already putting the pieces together. drunk, voice slurring, didn’t want to go back to archer.

you hadn’t spoken to theodore in two days - hadn’t even let him get a word in. but that didn’t stop the rage simmering just beneath his skin.“the fuck do you mean drop it?” his voice was so fucking dangerous. “he did this? huh?”

you squeezed your eyes shut, letting more tears slip down your cheeks and into theodore’s palm, which was still gently cradling your face.

that was all the confirmation he needed.

he exhaled harshly through his nose, hands clenching into fists before he forced himself to relax. right now, you were drunk. you were barely standing. he had to deal with you first - he could deal with archer later.

“you can’t go back there,” he said finally.

you scoffed, wobbling slightly. “oh, and what? stay with you?”

“yeah. that’s exactly what you’re gonna do.”

you glared at him, but it was sloppy, unfocused. “you’re so fucking bossy.”

“and you’re fucking drunk,” he shot back, moving to steady you as you swayed. he’s sure as hell wasn’t going to press for more details - he’ll settle for getting the truth out of you in the morning.

“i can walk -“ as if on cue, you pushed away from him, acting like you could walk just fine. but you overestimated yourself, immediately stumbling forward. theodore was right behind you, catching your forearm to steady you.

“no, you can’t.”

you huffed in frustration, but before you could argue, theodore crouched slightly and hooked an arm behind your knees, lifting you off the ground effortlessly.

“- hmph.” you let out a startled noise, your hands gripping onto his shoulders. “theo - put me down!”

“shut up,” he muttered, adjusting you as you squirmed. “stop moving before i drop your ass.”

“you wouldn’t dare.”

he smirked, but there was no amusement behind it. “try me.” you scowled at him but settled down, letting your head lull against his shoulder as he carried you through the halls. you reeked of alcohol, body warm from drinking, but despite the mess you were in, he still held you with ease.

as you stared up at him, your eyes glossy and clouded, you couldn’t help but wonder why he was helping you now. you felt like an ugly mess, with a bruise marring half your face. you’d done everything in your power to push him away, refusing to have the ‘conversation’ he’d been begging for. for what? you had no idea. and though you weren’t sure if it was the alcohol speaking or a quick moment of clarity, you found yourself wanting to hear him out.

when he finally reached his assigned dorm, he kicked the door open with his foot and carefully set you down onto the bed.

you groaned, shifting as you buried your face into the pillow. “m’gonna throw up.”

he sighed, walking over to the bathroom connected to the dorm and grabbing the small trashcan before placing it beside the bed. “if you’re going to throw up, do it here.” you made a sound of protest, shaking your head, your face still buried deep in the pillow. “gonna throw up on your bed.”

“you better not. i’m not cleaning up your shit.”

you peeked up at him, eyes bleary. “such a gentleman.”

“sleep.”

he grabbed an extra blanket from enzo’s bed and draped it over you. you immediately snuggled into its warmth. “sleep. we’ll talk in the morning,” he murmured, then grabbed another blanket and pillow from draco’s bed, tossing them onto the floor before settling down.

the room was quiet for a few moments, just the sound of your unsteady breathing filling the space.

then, your voice came out, soft and almost hesitant. “it’s…it’s too cold. just get in the bed, theo.”

he went still.

he hadn’t planned on sleeping. was going to stay awake until his friends got back from the party, so he could tell them to leave and crash in pansy’s dorm instead. but the moment you asked to get in bed, theodore felt a sudden warmth spread up to his ears.

he exhaled, long and slow, before grumbling, “you’re a pain in the ass, you know that?” still, he got up. slipping under the covers beside you, he kept his distance, body stiff.

but then, you shifted closer, and before he could react, your head rested lightly against his shoulder.

he felt your hair brush against his skin, your warmth seeping into him almost instantly. he didn’t stop you when your hand slipped over his waist, nor when you draped a leg over his. you lifted your head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw, right below his beauty mark. “thank you,” you whispered.

he swallowed hard, staring up at the ceiling. “…get some sleep,” he muttered, voice quieter this time.

you didn’t protest either, your lashes brushing against your eyebrow piercing as you gazed up at his face before finally letting your eyes flutter shut. the alcohol left you feeling everything at once - sleepy, hungry, mad, annoyed, on the verge of tears - and it had drained you completely.

theodore didn’t fall asleep right away. instead, he lay there, staring up at the ceiling with his hands tucked behind his head, your head resting on his bicep. you looked so at peace without those sharp, beautiful eyes glaring at him - lips slightly parted, soft breaths spilling from them.

your hair was everywhere, strands tickling his neck, but he didn’t mind.

twenty minutes passed before he heard his friends drunkenly fumbling with the dorm door, trying to get inside. theodore had locked it and placed a spell on it, wanting to avoid any questions about why you were fast asleep in his bed.

after three failed attempts, they finally gave up. he heard pansy mumble something about just crashing at her assigned dorm for the night before their footsteps faded away.

THE MORNING LIGHT filtered through the dormitory windows, casting a strip of golden glow over theodore’s chest as he stirred, stretching slightly before reaching toward the space beside him - only to find it empty. his fingers brushed against the cool sheets, the warmth that had been there just hours ago completely gone.

his beautiful eyes snapped open, scanning the room: everything was perfectly in place. the extra blanket he had thrown over you was folded neatly at the foot of the bed, the trash can he had set beside you was gone - assuming to be back in the bathroom, and even his pillow where your head had rested was fluffed, as if untouched.

it was as if last night had never happened.

the soft creak of a door caught his attention. he turned just as you stepped out of the bathroom, your face freshly washed, your expression carefully guarded. relief settled over him, but it didn’t last long, because the first thing he noticed was the deep purple bruise still marring your skin.

“you were just going to leave without saying anything?” his voice was quiet, still recovering from his sleep.

you didn’t answer right away. instead, you walked over to the dresser, grabbing your things with slow movements.

“at least tell me where the bruise came from,” theodore pressed, standing up now, his sharp eyes never leaving you. “it doesn’t matter,” you muttered, refusing to meet his gaze.

“it does to me.”

you let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “why? so you can play hero? so you can tell me what i already know?”

theodore took a step closer, his patience thinning. “just tell me, what happened?” you swallowed hard, your fingers gripping the edge of the dresser. “you already know,” you whispered.

he did. but hearing you admit it made his blood run cold. “archer,” he said.

you nodded, exhaling shakily. “he told me what you said to him during capture the flag and…” your voice faltered, and you turned away slightly. “he said he didn’t care whether it was true or not - just the fact that you even thought that about me must’ve meant something.”

it had. but archer didn’t know that.

theodore’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. “he beat the shit out of you for what i said?” his voice was dangerously low now.

you hesitated before nodding again. “it’s not the first time,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. you took a shaky breath. “after archer’s mother died, i was the only one there for him, comforting her and everything. and the first time he… the first time he actually hit me was over something so stupid.” your fingers curled into the fabric of your sleeves. “i got paired up with a boy for a school project, and archer thought i was laughing and smiling too much. which is insane because i just wanted to get the damn thing over with.” you swallowed hard. “but he punched me. and i swear to you, theo, i wanted to leave. i was going to leave. but then he broke down. said his head was a mess after losing his mother, that he was losing everything -“ your voice cracked. “i couldn’t just leave him.”

theodore was silent for a long moment, his jaw clenched so tight you could hear his teeth grind. “so he manipulated you.”

you said nothing.

his eyes darkened. “how many times after that?”

again, silence.

theodore stood abruptly from the bed, his entire body taut with barely contained rage. “i asked you a question.” maybe it was wrong to push you like this, but if someone was hurting you, he needed to know. he needed to do something.

you exhaled shakily, staring down at your hands. “every time he gets mad,” you admitted softly. “or… when he’s stressed.”

it was strange - wrong, even - how small your voice had become. you were always sharp tongued with theodore, always snappy and confident, never one to back down from a fight. and yet, sitting here now, you were so quiet. it was so fucking weird.

just like the first time he had seen you walk out of those doors with archer’s arm around you - your body there but your mind somewhere far, far away.

“if i leave him, it’ll be worse.”

you sounded so certain, so resigned, like you had already convinced yourself this was just the way things had to be. “you don’t know that,” he argued, stepping closer. “you don’t have to stay with him.”

“you don’t understand, theo,” you said, finally looking at him. “he will hurt me. worse than this. he’s not just going to let me go.”

god, you had tried to leave. so many times. so many times. even sleeping with theo — letting him mark you up with hickeys you made sure archer would see - that didn’t work. if anything, it only made things worse. he made sure you knew exactly who owned you after that, and it was the worst fucking day of your life.

you were so tired of people telling you to ‘just leave’ like it was that simple. if it were, you would’ve been gone a long time ago. “even novalie tried to help,” you muttered, voice hollow.

“novalie?”

“my best friend.”

“she told the headmaster.” a humorless, bitter laugh escaped you. “but for fuck’s sake, what can you really do when the headmaster is your grandfather?”

fontaine had scoffed at the accusation, his expression cold and dismissive. archer wouldn’t do such a thing. his perfect grandson would never do something like that. and oh, how archer had smirked at you when you reported it - when fontaine barely spared you a glance before saying, ‘report false information again, and you will be expelled. both of you.”

you and novalie had left without a word. because what was there to say? the message was clear — archer was untouchable.

theodore stared at you, heart pounding. he wanted to tell you he wouldn’t let archer hurt you again, that you didn’t have to be afraid - but he could see it in your eyes. the fear. the exhaustion.

the belief that there was no way out.

his jaw tightened. his mind raced. and then, suddenly, his lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smirk. “fine,” he said, voice calm. “i’ll transfer to ilvermorny and spend every single day fucking his life up.”

“theo -“

“i mean it.” his gaze darkened, his fists still clenched at his sides. “if he thinks he can do this to you and get away with it, he’s dead fucking wrong.”

for a moment, you just stood there, staring at him, your heart pounding as hard as his.

he wasn’t just saying this. he meant it.

you stayed silent, and theodore waited, expecting you to say something, anything. but you didn’t. you simply stared at him for a moment before turning away, opening the door, and slamming it shut behind you.

—

the ilvermorny campus was alive with color and sound, with students hopping from booth to booth at the annual fundraiser event. laughter rang in the air, mixed with the occasional cheer from someone winning a prize or the playful groans of a lost game. banners waved in the waft, enchanted lights twinkled despite it being midday, and the scent of caramel popcorn and cotton candy lingered around every corner.

at the far end of the courtyard stood the cupid booth, easily one of the most talked about attractions. the booth was an oversized, ridiculous pink monstrosity, covered in paper hearts, glittering fairy lights, and a glowing neon sign that read; FIND YOUR PERFECT MATCH! the magic of the booth was its biggest draw - once inside, the space expanded into a cozy, candle lit room, perfect for a blind date experience.

novalie was handling the sign-ups when theodore strolled up, hands in his pockets, looking as if he wasn’t taking the event remotely seriously.

novalie barely spared him a glance. “not a chance, nott. move along.”

theodore was about to ask how she knew his name but quickly remembered - she was your best friend. of course, you’d talked about him. and judging by the way she was silently glaring at him, it hadn’t been in the most flattering light.

with that in mind, theodore smirked. “i haven’t even said anything yet.”

“you want me to set you up with her.”

he shrugged. “what can i say? i’m a man of simple desires.”

novalie rolled her eyes, arms crossed. “yeah? and i desire not to deal with your nonsense.”

theodore leaned on the booth, dropping his voice. “come on, just slot me in.”

when novalie simply shook her head, theodore’s mind worked fast. then it clicked - blaise had mentioned that she’d been giving him ‘the eyes’ all night. or whatever the hell that meant. but despite that, she hadn’t made a move, and blaise, being the prideful idiot he was, refused to make one himself.

a complete pussy, if you asked theodore.

“okay, how about this,” theo said smoothly. “you set me up with her, and in return…” he leaned in conspiratorially. “i’ll put in a good word for you with blaise.”

novalie’s eyes narrowed, but there was interest in them now. “you’re lying.”

“why would i lie about my best friend? us guys aren’t like you girls.” novalie’s head snapped up from the sign up sheet. “watch your mouth.”

theodore tilted his head, unfazed. “come on, nov. blaise likes you, you know. he just needs a little… push t-“ “- don’t call me nov,” she scoffed, but the way she chewed her bottom lip gave her away. considering.

“a good word?”

“the best.”

novalie let out a dramatic sigh. “you are the most annoying person in existence.”

“thank you.”

she glared at him for a few more seconds before snatching a quill and scribbling something on the sign up sheet. “fine. but if you don’t follow through with blaise, i will hex you.” he couldn’t wait to tell blaise about this. about how much novalie actually cared enough to ask for a good word on her behalf.

theodore grinned. “noted.”

novalie found you near the ring toss booth, talking with some classmates and holding a bag of pink cotton candy. archer was nowhere to be seen, which was perfect - no chance of his annoying self barging in. novalie walked up to the group, ignoring the comment from one of the boys you were talking to, who started to say, “looking sexy, nov -“ she grabbed your wrist and yanked you away without a word.

“uh - what the hell?” you protested, stumbling after her. you licked your lips slightly, the sweet blend of cotton candy and your lip gloss lingering on your tongue.

“you, my queen, are going on a blind date.”

you blinked repeatedly. “excuse me?”

novalie gave you an innocent smile. “the cupid booth! it’s for charity! for love! and also, i signed you up.” you knew about the booth your best friend was running - you’d even helped her set up a few things. but that was as far as your involvement went; you’d help her, sure, but actually participating? that was out of the question.

you frowned. “since when?”

“five minutes ago.”

you tried to dig your heels in. “nope.” especially with archer lurking around — he could pop up anywhere at any time. and if he so much as caught you slipping into a blind date booth, you might as well start digging your own grave.

“oh, come on, it’ll be fun!”

“if archer sees -“

“- i’ll distract him -“

“ - and i hate blind dates.”

“but this one is special.”

“why?”

novalie hesitated. “um. because magic? and, uh, fate?” you’d known this girl for most of your life - you could spot her lies a mile away. she’d avoid your eyes, stare at the ground, and blink a little too much, all while keeping that small, devilish smile. you narrowed your eyes at her. “you’re hiding something.”

“no, i’m persuading.” she looped her arm through yours, practically dragging you toward the booth. “besides, it’s already set up, and it would be so rude to cancel last minute.”

“this is so sketchy,” you muttered.

novalie just beamed. “i know.”

you let her drag you along, occasionally glancing around to see if you could spot archer. you hadn’t, at least not since last night, which was strange. archer always woke up extra early, so he’d be the first person you’d see when leaving your dorm. he’d be right there by the horned serpent common room, waiting to walk you to class. at first, you thought it was just a cute safety thing. then you found out he did it to keep track of you at all times, in a way that felt more controlling than caring.

the inside of the cupid booth was nothing short of obnoxious. the moment you stepped through the curtain, the small wooden booth melted away into an entirely different space - one far bigger than it had any right to be.

It looked like valentine’s day and a unicorn had a baby, and then it exploded inside.

the walls were soft pink with gold trimmings, floating candles hovering above, casting a warm glow. a plush loveseat sat in the center, positioned near a tiny table with a tea set and a tray of chocolate covered strawberries. delicate roses curled up the corners of the space, enchanted so they occasionally released petals that disappeared before they could touch the floor.

you groaned. “i hate this.”

“you love this,” novalie corrected, pushing you forward.

“i’m going to kill you.”

“you can try! enjoy your date!” she yanked the curtain shut behind you. you watched as the shadow behind the curtain shrank and vanished, just as you muttered the words. “this better not be with some random -“

“wow,” theodore drawled, lounging casually on the loveseat, one arm draped along the backrest. “for someone who hates blind dates, you sure walked into this one easily.”

your stomach dropped. you spun to glare at the curtain. “NOVALIE!”

a muffled giggle was your only response.

theodore smirked. “so, should we start with tea, or do you just want to skip to the part where you fall madly in love with me?”

you didn’t know why he was still trying to reach you. you didn’t understand why he kept making an effort to talk to you when you’d made it clear so many times that you wanted him to just drop it. “why do you keep doing this?” you asked, your voice cracking, frustration bubbling beneath your words.

theodore’s smile faltered, replaced by that same look that made you want to slap the hell out of him. how could he look so damn handsome and yet so damn sad all the time?

“it’s always ‘why i do things’ with you,” theodore said, shaking his head. “someone shows you kindness, and suddenly you don’t know how to function properly.” theodore had you all figured out: you can whisper the melody, but you can’t make someone listen to the song.

you weren’t listening. your eyes were locked on his hands - more specifically, the bruises all over his knuckles. they looked like they’d been hitting something over and over, a thousand times. “…what happened to your hand?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

theodore hesitated, his jaw tightening. “what? thought i was just going to let that bloke roam free?” the words hung in the air for a moment, and you could feel your heart race as your thoughts spun. “what? why?”

“if his little grandfather asks,” theodore continued, his tone low, “he promised to tell him his dumbass tripped and fell somewhere.”

you stared at him, speechless.

he was still holding your gaze, and then he shrugged. “when your father’s a nott, and your best friend’s a malfoy, anything’s possible.”

your mind was reeling, processing it all; the violence, the anger. archer being hurt. theodore beating the shit out of him. theodore was waiting for you to be angry, but you couldn’t even speak. you just stood there, trying to make sense of the mess between you.

then, without warning, you started walking toward him. 10 INCHES: theodore tensed. the look on your face - he didn’t recognize it. and for that reason alone, he was fully convinced you were about to slap him. 5 INCHES: he braced himself, fingers twitching. maybe he should stop you. maybe he should fight back. but, honestly? he probably deserved it. 2 INCHES: you were close now. close enough to lift your hand, to hit him, to let all your anger spill out. 1 INCHES: but instead of striking him, you closed the distance — and kissed him.

for a split second, theodore froze, completely caught off guard. but then, instinct took over, and he melted into it. your bottom lip slipped between his parted lips with ease, the kiss so desperate, so messy, and filled with all the things neither of you had been able to say.

each kiss was a thank you. one — thank you. another — thank you. and another. thank you. thank you. thank you.

[artytaeh]

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

can i disagree with some of this fandom's perception of tom riddle? surely he won't be a sweetheart like lorenzo, but...

┊ i also don't think that he'd be so intentionally rude, so cold towards his significant other. i honestly think that if tom ever becomes infatuated with someone, he would take pride into getting this someone to belong to him. willingly! ���

౨ৎ i guess i'll never know the reason why you ♡ ͡

love me like you do; that's the wonder of you . . .

... tom riddle is a smart man, you see. love, romantic feelings, to act like a couple and all of those things— these might be the most confused that tom riddle will ever be, because otherwise, he's an extremely competent, capable young man.

tom riddle does get confused, a little lost on what to do; he'd torture himself by discreetly watching couples at hogwarts interacting, maybe make some research (= read novels. romantic novels. it was a discovery of a new medieval torture for tom, seriously, to waste his precious time reading some sappy crap like that.) to better understand how to handle you.

how to deal with you.

how to cherish you, so that you don't ever entertain the idea of leaving him. you see, tom is a practical man— he'd rather not commit mistakes, because to fail, means to spend extra time fixing his error and doing the same thing twice, so that this time, it's done correctly.

applying this ideology to you, it means: that 1) tom riddle prefers to always keep your heart happy, so that you don't have doubts about him; so that 2) he won't have to take twice the effort to conquer the city of your heart again.

some think that tom wouldn't like petnames. to be fair, tom would frown at many of those, at first— thinking that they were cringe, disgusting or a psychological way to acquire diabetes. however, when tom gets used to this stir on his heart, those loud heart beatings that cloud his rational thoughts...

... it's excused to say that tom's preferred petname to call you by, is 'my love'.

tom reasons that's because it isn't a lie at all. well, you're certainly his— and because of you, because of your existence, of this enchanting aura of yours; that's how tom riddle discovered love. there are few things that tom is attached to. even fewer that he shows to care about, to have affectionate feelings for; one of them is the basilisk. others are his favorite books, all of them first editions that were troublesome, but endlessly worth it, to get. nevertheless, at the peak of the pyramid, there's you.

you. oh, how your name sounds so angelic, so right, so perfect on his lips. sometimes, tom doesn't call you by any petnames, so that he can mouth each syllable of your name, tasting the acquaintance of the name of his darling on his lips.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

he might call you by other petnames, depending on the occasions:

darling; which, in his opinion, is fairly one of the best petnames to be shared between a couple. because you, reader, are endearing to his eyes— a darling, really, whose presence immediately softens (ever so slightly, because tom riddle still is tom riddle himself, and that mask of stoicism of his won't be broken without putting up a fight.) those previously icy, cold eyes of his.

dearest; if tom is trying to reason with you. unlike what many think, tom would take a deep breath, put on that handsome smile of his, and use a gentle tone to convince some words inside that pretty little head of yours. 'dearest', he calls for you— so gentle, so full of affection; as if reminding you that you are the object of all of his affections and desires. you, his dearest, the one he adores the most. the reminder of such a fact easily melts you in less than a few seconds, which tom sees as too perfect of an opportunity to lose to convince you much faster.

doll; if you look rather ravishing to his eyes, whenever you dress up even prettier than other school days, and wear such pretty clothes and many accessories to further optimize your beauty. beautiful, perfect, flawless; like a doll. a carefully made doll. a doll, that sits there quiet and all pretty, obedient, doing as she's told.

( i must warn you, though, that tom won't entertain silly nicknames from you. tom riddle will ignore you, march forward without sparing a glance at you, not even acknowledging your presence should you insist on the matter. tom won't answer you, should you refer to him by such hideous petnames. you could be about to fall from a mountain, and yet tom won't help you until you address him properly. baby? he's not a child, for salazar's sake! pookie bear? now that might make tom riddle himself throw you off from the mountain's edge— call him such a monstrosity like that, and tom will lose every drop of faith on you. you're a lost cause. )

if he had to choose; yes, tom would prefer if you were obedient. contrary to popular belief, tom riddle is quite fascinated with sweet personas. to have a sweet significant other, who's all smiles and considerate words— it's so, so much easier for tom.

between a brat that trashes around for his attention, and a sweet girl who gently tries to indulge (purely out of concern, wanting him to share his problems with her!)— tom would rather choose the latter.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

quite the darling you are. to boldly take tom's hands between your own, with that frown of yours. no, you're not being whiny; yet tom can see that there's consideration, there's time spent on that little brain of yours, that tries to find the right words to speak with him.

then, when you voice your concerns— that tom spends some time alone from time to time, seemingly hiding something from you, as if to shoulder all of those burdens all by himself...

tom takes a deep breath, swallowing his temper. trying to keep his composure, because tom hates having to justify his actions. with a smile, tom puts on a facade, with a too much convincing tone: "oh, dearest, no. i'm flattered that you noticed that i haven't been having the best days; however, your presence makes everything better. in fact, being with you now, makes all of my problems seem insignificant in comparison."

should his sweet words not be enough to keep your nose out of his business, then tom takes a step further. holding your hands, tom squeezes them between his fingers, gently at first, tightly when you're too stubborn: "my problems are mine to solve, my love. i would never put such a heavy burden on you; your smile is too precious for me to ruin."

sweet, sweet words; some that tom mentally grimaces at, but knows that are necessary and effective with you. talking as if he's doing you a favor on keeping you away from his PERSONAL thoughts and goals.

and that's how tom pushes you way. gently, smoothly— so that you'd have to rethink this moment over and over, for you to understand that once again, tom riddle has tricked you; tricked you into doing what he wants. because without a fight, without you daring to bother him further... tom riddle made you go back to your own business, and leave his alone.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

however, when tom is in a better mood and less stressed with his own goals, he'd find it funny, entertaining even, if his darling tried to be bossy. to pout, to want some sort of control. it's hilarious for him.

so, he indulges you. well, sort of— tom tricks you into thinking that he gave in to your commands. to your whims. in a sneaky way, tom makes you think that you're in control!

the one who's in charge is you. yes, darling, of course. he pats your head, gives you that charming smile of his. with such a serene expression, tom briefly raises his eyebrows, mocking you inside that devious mind of his, as he says: you are absolutely right, dearest.

tom riddle doesn't really mind that you aren't consciously aware that the one in charge is him. that's fine; no, seriously, go and brag about it!

because ultimately, tom knows that what he says, goes. that with some sweet words of his, a little touch here and there, that you'll soon see the reason and comply to whatever tom wishes you to say, to do, to behave.

he does is so smoothly, that even for the outsiders, well... it'd be hard to realize that all that tom riddle is doing to you, is nothing but manipulation. and you're oh so easy to manipulate— it was a challenge at first. now, it's more of a chore; tom barely blinks through it. he knows you so well.

however, so that you whining and getting used to think that you're having things done your way, tom throws some praises and compliments here and there.

touching you chin, gently brushing his thumb on your lower lip; tom's gaze intentionally softens, as he praises: 'you're just too good to be true, my love.', whenever you act accordingly. when you do as he says.

brushing a strand of yours away from your face, so that he can further admire the physical features of his beloved: 'i sincerely can't take my eyes of you, darling, when you are so good for me like this. pardon the way that i stare— you're too beautiful.'

and with even more sincerity, tom riddle isn't sure where his manipulation ends and his genuine care for you starts; tom isn't sure, whether his words are now a muscle memory of his, or if he truly means them.

but he never allows himself to discover the roots of this thought. to actually find out if he truly is such an emotionally shallow person, or if his weakness for his darling is deeper than he realizes. no— this is one of the few matters, in which tom would rather remain ignorant about.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

because tom is such a gentleman with you...

opening doors for you. walking two, three steps ahead of you as soon as the entrance is upon sight, tom will open the door for you; his arm keeps it open for you to enter or leave the room first, and so those grayish-green eyes of his watch you, as you pass by. then, tom will enter just behind you, following your lead, quickening his steps to go back to his rightful place by your side. he lies to himself, saying that he only does such a small gesture to effortlessly keep you by his side. tom would be telling the truth, if he doesn't interrupt the thought that he enjoys to escort you— because, deep down, tom genuinely appreciates your company. every step, every minute you spend together. 'here, love. please, continue; what did you tell your housemate, then?'

tom riddle refuses to let you carry heavy books. so, as if it was muscle memory and so smoothly that you can't do anything about it, tom will carry your books along with his, as soon as you leave the classroom. it's not that he finds you useless, incapable; rather, tom riddle perceives you as a... preciously delicate, fragile little thing. most of the times, tom does it so nonchalantly that you don't even notice; you're too distracted by your conversation, to notice how tom carries your stuff, busying his arms. however, should you notice or worry that you're being a burden to tom in any way; tom shakes his head at you, waving off this silly insecurity of yours: 'i know you can carry them, beloved. however, allow me to do it for you. i am your boyfriend, am i not?'

offering his hand for you to take, whenever there's a higher step to be climbed up, or tricky stairs on your way. tom will do it too, to give you some kind of support, should you jump off of a particular high edge. whenever you wear high heels, tom would be specially careful with you— he offers his arm or hand for you to take, walking in a much slower pace than usual, so that you won't overexert your feet. we can't have his darling getting hurt, now can we? no bruises, no pain, no redness on your skin undesired by him, nothing to interrupt the lovely time you're spending together. 'take my hand, my love; it's quite high for you. that's it, darling, good girl.'

whenever you're about to sit, tom grabs the back of your chair, pushing the seat backwards for you to take, then helps you settle closer to the table. only then, will tom take his own seat in front of you. it's something that becomes so, so common between both of you, that sometimes you find yourself taking a few more seconds to sit down, whenever you hang out with your friends; unconsciously, you'd wait for tom to gently guide you to your seat. oh, you're spoiled.

leaning down to get the material you accidentally knocked out; if he's not quick enough to notice, then tom will keep his hand on the edge of the table, so that there's no chance for you to hit your head. 'quite the klutz, aren't you, darling?' — with a lighthearted tone, so that he doesn't come by as mean, tom couldn't help but to tease you just this time, — 'next time, let me get it for you, dearest. now, careful with your head.'

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

... and because he's always so soft-spoken with you, well, how could you listen to your friends, in case they notice that maybe tom riddle isn't as a good guy as he lets on? that perhaps, he is a little controlling. that maybe, he's too overprotective of you.

→ and of course, being the fool you are, you stroll to the lion's cage (or should we call it snake?) and deliver all of this information on a silver platter for him.

SAT SIDEWAYS ON HIS LAP, tom settles your thighs to rest on top of his, while a hand is respectfully kept there; caressing the smooth skin, rubbing circles on the bare skin of your thigh, just inches underneath the hem of your skirt.

tom riddle keeps up a serene expression, sometimes humming in acknowledgement, to show you that he's listening to this ramble of yours. if it's a topic that seems to have bothered or upsets you, then tom will keep another hand on your lower back; he soothes you with small movements of his fingers.

oh, how funny. so this ravenclaw friend of yours, told you that it isn't normal for tom, your boyfriend, to comment whether you roll up your skirt during summer? that such a thing is being controlling? now that's something tom will have to deal with. perhaps, he'll only have to frame this irritating ravenclaw girl; have you ever thought that maybe, she's interested in tom? that must be why the ravenclaw is filling your pretty little brain with such absurd exaggerations of his doings. how lucky you are, to have an attentive boyfriend that easily notices when a friend of yours has bad intentions.

( for obvious reasons, tom despises amortentia. he finds it disgusting, but more than that, tom riddle perceives amortentia has a rather pathetic tool to get someone's affection. tom will never use it on you— he doesn't need to! however, he will get his hands on one, to use it on that nosy, insufferable ravenclaw friend of yours. only to prove his point. so that this nosy girl acts disgustingly flirty around tom, so that you'll come running back into his arms, crying about such an awful friend and that once again, tom was right. you apologize to him, for doubting his assumptions. you end this friendship and cut ties with the ravenclaw girl. and tom, well, tom riddle has once again rid both of you from troublesome outsiders. )

ah, now this is entertaining! so these friends of yours, housemates, have noticed that tom has been keeping an eye on you. now, dearest, that's rather silly, don't you think? so what if you seem to find the same familiar faces in the same space as you? do you really believe your friends' theories? that he sends his followers ''friends'' to follow you around the school? darling, hogwarts is quite enormous and spacious, yet all of you study together in the same castle. it's inevitable, to see familiar faces, here and there.

( however, tom will blame his followers. how difficult can it be, to follow, to stalk a girl like you? and to go unnoticed as they do that? sincerely, tom stares at them with such disgust, such disappointment, that his followers tremble under his gaze— the future dark lord even mentions the idea of getting rid of them. of throwing them away. after all, why would he need such useless, such incompetent boys like them, if they can't follow simple orders correctly? it's excused to say, that you'd never suspect being stalked again. 1) because tom reassured you that such a thought is rather silly; and 2), because these followers of tom riddle do a much better job. out of fear. )

oh, darling, what silly friends you have! sincerely, it seems like you only attract observant delusional friends, or attentive paranoid companies!

in the end, it doesn't matter if your friends tried to alert you about tom's toxic concerning flaws traits. because in the end, at night, he will have you nuzzling on his lap, holding you so tenderly; all of these warnings disappear into thin air, when tom makes you laugh at such accurate ridiculous accusations.

in conclusion: no, tom riddle would never be rude or snap at you; not if he can help it, not if he can keep his temper in check. he believes that the best way to keep you so effortlessly devoted and infatuated, to keep you willingly by his side, is to treat you with care (even if sometimes he has to manipulate his way into it). how lucky you are, to have such a obsessive caring boyfriend!

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— i'm endlessly faithful to theodore nott. however. the first to kick the entrance door to my heart was tom riddle. and what a man (i can't fix him. i would let him ruin my life him tho!), ladies and gentlemen.

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

[zettaireido-emotion]

Camus character analysis: games VS anime

If you finished the Uta no Prince-sama anime and your opinion of this man is "wow, he's kinda terrible," I don't blame you. in fact I've seen a lot of people say this

In this post, I want to talk about his characterization in the games and give my two cents on what the anime was trying to do with him, especially in his single focus episode Saintly Territory (S3E6).

Disclaimer: I wrote this on a whim because I'm sick and stuck at home so if anyone reads this, sorry I might go all over the place

Spoilers for all of the games!

The "be my slave" thing

Starting with Anime Camus's most egregious crime: treating Haruka like a servant/slave (however you want to translate it)

Basically in his focus episode, Haruka is tasked with writing a song for Camus. She wants to learn more about him in order to write it, but Camus will only let her follow him if she acts as his servant. She accepts without complaining, Cecil is rightfully angry, Haruka continues anyway and the song gets completed.

Now, am I about to say that Game Camus would never do this? No because he literally does lmao.

The anime doesn't pull this "servant" plotline out of nowhere, here's the context in his route:

Haruka accidentally overhears Camus talking about a plot to assassinate Saotome on the phone. When he notices that she heard everything, he basically tells her that he has to kill her now. But if she served him, he'd be able to keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn't leak anything, so she could escape death.

Okay uh "work under me or DIE" isn't exactly better, nor is it a good start to a love story, but I'm not finished!!

(A side note: I have to add that the anime made him look like an even bigger asshole and borderline dumb when it came to the things he made her do. Like he expected her to know that snapping your fingers means you want coffee without prior explanation. bro

^This might have been for comedic effect but I promise he can be actually funny and endearing.)

What the anime couldn't cover

The Camus episode wraps up with Haruka pulling through and writing a song that makes Camus "sincere," he says it's cool at the very end and that's the episode. I think the problem is that we technically didn't see him being sincere or what that even means to him, besides when he was singing (banger song btw)

It's a shame because in a 20-minute episode you really can't show the game experience of slowly piecing together what this man's problem is.

First of all, in Debut and AS you'll be quick to notice that he always has homeland and duty on the mind, constantly reminding himself that he's in Shining Agency/Japan for a reason, and it's NOT to have fun or make friends

The truth is, he slowly starts to appreciate the banter with his colleagues, music, and working there in general.

But because of his initial mindset, he has to rationalize & justify every connection he forms, like "it's just for work" or worse: "actually it was ALL A LIE and I NEVER ENJOYED A SECOND OF THE TIME WE SPENT TOGETHER, I'm such a great actor haha"

He uses that to fool himself and to push the other person away so it doesn't happen again. This scene is probably the best example:

(I'll be using google lens because it's faster but I checked that the tls were okay)

He also does this in the Non-Fiction drama, which may or may not have actually happened, but I think it's still a pretty good reflection of what could happen in reality because he tells Ranmaru their bond was a lie, then mopes around in his guilt thinking about the good times and wondering why he's sad, and THEN later doubles down on the "it was a lie, I don't care about you" because he just can't let himself get attached to anything.

Basically, he's terrified at the thought of forming actual bonds because he genuinely thinks he's nothing if he stops being a cold weapon:

At one point he does admit he sucks (as a love interest)-

-which is pretty huge by utapri standards. I love these games, but the amount of times where a male lead does something icky, and everyone, including Haruka, acts like it's normal or like it's Haruka's fault is ehhh but I digress

Upbringing

Of course he's very proud of his homeland and status, but sometimes it's to the point of thinking he can't be anything other than his title. So why is he like this?

We got to hear about his childhood from Camus himself a few times, and it often ended with Haruka thinking "wait? that's kinda messed up?" and Camus insisting it's nothing/it's normal so yeah that's something...

His parents were in an unhappy arranged marriage, and his mother was forced to birth an heir which traumatized her so much that she can't see Camus without falling ill. Overall it's a pretty tragic situation since what happened to her was horrible, though not Camus's fault either. Even now she refuses to see him, and I wouldn't say that makes him sad because he never really met her, but simply knowing of her sacrifice probably adds a lot of pressure. As in, he only exists for this one purpose (inheriting his father's title and serving the country), so if he doesn't play his part correctly, it would have all been for nothing.

He was raised by his father not as a child or son but as the heir, always treated and judged as an adult (even during physical training apparently, make of that what you will)

When Haruka asks about childhood memories he has a very hard time finding something that doesn't have to do with his duties or the nation. And then admits he didn't truly have a "childhood" since he was never treated like a child

As for the queen, I think his love for her is sincere: she taught him a lot of things growing up, and according to him, she's also a victim trapped by her duties so he wants to ease the burden.

So hypothetically, if he found things or people that made him happy in Japan, he would feel obligated to lock them away because that happiness is incompatible with his life: he'll have to leave when his mission ends, he shouldn't be spending time on things that aren't "useful" as he doesn't have the free will to pursue them

In his mind he's completely tied down by the fact that he was born and raised for a single reason, and the fact that he does want to serve the queen.

(This is Saotome describing him btw)

Also it might sound ridiculous to bring his self-worth into question because of how pretentious he is, but I've counted a few situations where he seemed to have complete disregard for his own life, only worrying about Haruka and Cecil's safety in scenes when they were present. And he thinks wanting to be loved unconditionally is a childish thought he shouldn't have.

"Double Face" was a lie. There's like at least 10 layers

On the surface he does have two personas, his perfect polite butler act for the media, and his cold bitchy attitude off camera. But honestly, even when he's not acting as a butler, he's often putting up a front to hide any form of vulnerability (from himself as well)

His main struggle is finding who he is outside of what he's being told to do. Before, he never actually stopped to think about what he WANTS because it just never occurs to him, or if it does he ignores it.

That's why realizing that he has his own desires is essential to his character development, and him staying with Quartet Night (and Haruka in his routes) is so important. It's why Reiji feels the need to reach out and when he does, Camus either freezes up or tears up;

This all makes him the opposite of Ranmaru (being true to yourself and sincere), and similar to Ai (gradually learning to view the world in a less cold and logical way), but I kind of want to save that for another post lmao

He is especially hard on Cecil because Cecil says & does whatever he wants, and everything still works out for him, which is a way of life that Camus can't imagine for himself at all (despite maybe wanting it?)

That he can realize this and eventually admit out loud, despite all his pride, is also one of my favorite things about him

Season 2 does hint at something, so that's pretty cool!

Side note, I really love that his theme in the new Oracle series is "Change," the melting of ice.

So what was the anime supposed to do??

Of course there's no way to show all this in a single episode or even during the runtime of the anime, and I never expected them to because the story is very surface-level (that goes for all characters).

It's just unfortunate since the anime is the most accessible and well-known utapri media in the western fandom, and the character's main episode is bound to leave the biggest impression.

I understand the choice of being laser-focused on the servant plotline, it's supposed to be funny (?) and waters him down to a trope that's easy to understand at first glance (the step-on-me guy I guess)

Still, I can't help but compare it to Ranmaru's episode, who was also hard to work with in the games but was chill in S3E7 and got to pet cats. Anime onlys will never know how much Camus loves to dote on his dog smh.....

[simp4konig]

Snores. REALLY loud. 😬 ONLY when you are in his arms 🙄 — when he sleeps alone, he is eerily silent.

I'm taking this and assuming it means that he's relaxed enough to snore because he knows you won't hurt him, and especially if he's sleeping during the day, he knows you've got his back. He wouldn't admit it but maybe he subconsciously knows that his lover is just as protective of him as he is of them. He knows they'd never let anyone hurt him, so his body finally leaves fight or flight mode when resting next to them

Idk if I'm just reading too much into that but it's what I'm taking from it. Nikto trusts his lover so so much

I'm rambling now but imagine his lover got accused of being a rat and there was sizable evidence against them and he just doesn't believe it. He just goes "no" and helps his lover hide because he's not an idiot, he knows they'll be tortured for information they don't have if they stay, and if they got tortured, he'd have to kill everyone involved and then punish himself for, in his eyes, allowing it to happen.

Meanwhile he works to find out who the actual traitor is, and when he finds out they intentionally framed his lover?

Not good things

🪼

YES, 🪼 ANON!!! YOU GET IT!!! 🥰🥰🥰❤️❤️❤️

Because being on high alert is exhausting. Being hyperaware of every noise — inside and outside —, every gust of wind, every breath, rise and fall in temperature, every movement... it's exhausting.

Personally, I headcanon Nikto to be a light sleeper when he's on active duty — so light that rarely truly sleeps* (or, better put: it's rare for him to get any sleep. Sleep deprivation could be the cause of those permanently red eyes of his?), as he can still recognise the sounds around him and is ready to engage with any enemy planning to stab him in his "sleep".

Before Zakhaev, he was cautious. After Zakhaev, he's paranoid.

Any noise could signal an enemy's stealthy approach: a creak in the floorboard? a passing car? footsteps echoing along the wrong? voices whispering in the night? a tusle of his bedsheets, easily to be mistaken for rustle of someone's combat gear as they adjust their pistol to aim it at his forehead? Man gets no sleep... ☹️

That's why he's eerily silent — because a.) he has to be aware of any and all dangers and b.) if he can neither be seen nor heard, no enemy can capture him, can they?

*LITERALLY as I was writing this (little by little since you sent the ask in), this headcanon showed up on my feed, and Nikto stating this is SO fitting: "We do not sleep, we only fall into darkness until the sun brings us back". PLS ITS LITERSLLT HIM? +++?? +++? @??

However, I imagine him as a deep sleeper at heart, and when he has finally no rational reasons to be paranoid, he can relax. Somewhat.

He's still as stiff as a board: lays flat on his back, arms by his sides, legs straight, and all that; however, it's with his partner only when he can actually relax, as 1.) with them laying on his chest/by his side, they are safe, they aren't in any danger, they are okay 2.), their presence brings him solace and peace like no other 3.), he isn't alone anymore, he doesn't have to protect himself and focus on his survival, since he can now just... live, as opposed to survive,

and 4.), because (like you said! 🤭❤️), his partner would be just as protective of him as they are of them. <3

To ease his stress and alleviate the paranoia at least a little, they vow to care for him and take care of him, and to demonstrate through small but meaningful acts that he doesn't have to be fiercly independent and self-reliant, but can depend on and trust his partner, too. 🥹

Maybe the relationship that he has with his partner has no one person depending on the other, but a codependent one — Nikto can provide safety, security, shelter, and protection in a physical sense, while his partner can provide all of those aforementioned in the emotional sense (but physical probably too because I would scratch whoever the FUCK had the balls to pick on my man??????,, HISSING and SCREECHING and CLAWING like a fucking cat!!!!!! 😠😠😾😾😠😾

//Also bro you can't apologise for rambling then give the BEST writing prompt EVER??? KISS KISS MUAHM MUAHHH 💋💋,, NEED TO WRITE A DRABBLE FOR THIS!!! 🤭🤭

pls bear w me tho... 😞,, hope u don't mind that im a slow writer 🥲

[orcasoul]

Joel Miller Imagine #2

Warnings: Swearing, sexual themes

Word Count: 840

QZ boyfriend Joel who has never publicly said he's you're boyfriend, but it's just known between you both that he's yours and you're his.

QZ boyfriend Joel who likes to know where you're going and when you'll be back (not in a controlling way, but that's just how dangerous QZ life is) Who knows deep down it's unlikely that anyone would threaten you lest they want to face his legendary fury, but it brings him peace of mind to know your whereabouts in case you ever need him. Who's always ready to pounce if a man even looks at you disrespectfully.

QZ boyfriend Joel who's quick temper has always controlled his mouth, sometimes snapping and saying things he really doesn't mean during an argument. Who internally hates himself when he sees the tears you've been tying so hard to hold back. Who when things have calmed somewhat, will apologise sincerely and tell you he'll try to do better instead of blowing up, and makes sure you know how much you mean to him, even though he'll never say the three words you want to hear; but he does, so fucking much!

QZ boyfriend Joel who's often harsh, blunt and violent - when needed- with people, but is always soft and caring when it comes to his girl, especially when you're having another tough day, who holds you firmly in his strong arms when you wake in a blind panic from another nightmare. Who feels a sense of relief and purpose when his embrace and the low timbre of his voice helps to sooth you back to sleep.

QZ boyfriend Joel who feels terrible when he leaves on a smuggling run with Tess and has to leave you behind, no matter how much you protest (he actually finds your pouting to be quite cute on times, but he'll never tell you that) Who knows that if anything ever happened to you it would be the end of him. He'd rather you mad at him than dead or... worse.

QZ boyfriend Joel who's secretly flattered when you get jealous of the time he spends with Tess. Who has told you time and again, there's no one else for him but you (and it's true. He could never imagine being with anyone else) and that the only reason he bothers with Tess is because she's one of the best smugglers in the QZ.

QZ boyfriendJoel who instantly dislikes any man (except for the few you both know) who tries talking to you, who sees any other man as a potential threat to your safety. After all, this is hell on earth and when society crumbles so do the morals and decency of a lot of men.

QZ boyfriend Joel who sometimes finds his mind drifting to the old world, wishing he could give you everything you deserve in life. It's why he became a smuggler in the first place, so you will never need for ration cards.

QZ boyfriend Joel who fucks nasty. Who, when he's had a bad day, won't even talk about it at first. Instead he'll grab you and bend you over the nearest piece of furniture, ripping your trousers and panties down without even opening the button (so many ration cards wasted on new buttons). Who, before pushing himself inside your waiting tunnel, leans over you into your ear, asking if you remember the safe word. Who, when he's gets the confirmation he needs, spears himself into you, fucking you at a brutal pace until you're soaking not just his cock, but the tops of his thighs too. Who, after he has fucked out all of his frustrations, cleans you up and holds you like you are fine china. Only then will he tell you about his shitty day.

QZ boyfriend Joel who makes love to you with a tenderness and devotion that belies his gruff and intimidating exterior. Who always makes sure you come before he slides into you, eating you out like a man devouring his last meal (which in this world, it could very well be) Who pushes deep and slow into you, dragging himself against your sweet spot and only speeding up the snap of his hips when you want him to go faster. Who whispers words of affection against your neck as you throw your head back in ecstasy, crying out his name. Who holds you in his arms all night long, watching the flutter of your eyelids and listening to your soft breaths, wishing you could both stay in this moment forever and not have to face another gruelling day tomorrow.

QZ boyfriend Joel who will stop at nothing to make a better life for you both outside the QZ. Who traded three months worth of saved up ration cards for a dodgy old car battery. Who promises that very soon, you'll both leave the QZ and start a new life in Jackson, where his brother lives.

QZ boyfriend Joel who will get you out of here if it's the last thing he does!

[vilevenom]

I asked for a sad prompt, and MAN, did you deliver, @bitterbunny07! I'm definitely still working through some writers block, but it felt so good to get this done within a couple of hours. So, yeah, obvious trigger warning: mentions of miscarriage. Nothing is described, however.

Enjoy!~

This wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening. After everything he'd already gone though, how could this be happening?

Branch's ears were ringing. He knew Poppy and the doctor were talking to him, but he couldn't hear them. He couldn't breath.

~

Branch hadn't seen Poppy in a week. He knew she'd brought him back to the bunker after the doctors appointment, and he was pretty sure she'd come by the bunker once or twice since then, but he hadn't seen her. He made point of staying holed up in his room, only venturing out once in the last week to grab a few rations from his pantry, though he barely touched them. He felt like he didn't deserve to. Not after…that.

So, it was a little surprising when he heard a knock on his bedroom door.

"Poppy?" he asked, his voice slightly croaky from crying near endlessly over the last week.

"Sorry, bud," a much deeper voice than Branch had been expecting said, before the bedroom door opened to reveal his oldest brother, "But she did ask me to come check on you."

"I don't blame her," Branch sniffed, rubbing at his eye and hunching his shoulders under the pile of blankets he'd buried himself under, "For not wanting to see me."

"Hey, now," John Dory scolded quietly, moving across the room to sit on the edge of Branch's bed. He reached out and gently pulled the blankets away from Branch's head, revealing the starkly grey face below. "Who said she didn't want to see you? That has nothing to do with it. She's worried about you, Bitty B, but she thought you wouldn't want to see her."

"Why would she think I didn't want to see her? I'm the one who…I…our egg," Branch choked on his words, covering his mouth with a hand as he gagged. John Dory reeled back quickly, glancing around and snagging a waste basket from near the bed as Branch dry heaved into his hand.

"It's okay, B," John soothed, holding the bin near Branch and shifting so he could rub his baby brother's back. Or, at least, where he assumed his back was through all of the blankets. "Let it out."

"I-" Branch began, only to snag the bin from John's hands and heave into it, what little contents he had in his stomach escaping in a mad dash.

"That's it," John hummed, wrinkling his nose at the retching sounds, but otherwise doing his best to stay calm and soothing.

Once Branch was done he sat back, settling the bin in his lap as he wiped the back of his hand over his mouth as a quiet sob bubbled up from his throat. "Why did this happen?"

The nearly inaudible question caught John Dory a bit off guard, but he collected himself quickly, taking the waste basket from Branch and setting it on the floor so he could gather his littlest brother and all of his blankets into his arms. "I can't answer that, Bitty B. I'm sorry."

"I did everything right," Branch sniffed, leaning into John, "I took all the vitamins, I was careful with my hair. We sang to it every day…But it still-it still died."

John gave Branch a squeeze, nuzzling his chin gently into the top of his brothers head, where he knew the egg once sat. "Sometimes…sometimes these things just happen. Without rhyme or reason."

"That's not good enough!" Branch suddenly snapped, wrenching himself out of John's grasp, his blankets falling down around his waist as he turned a tearful, angry scowl on his brother. "There has to be a better explanation! Even the doctor couldn't figure it out! It's not fair!" Branch hiccupped, his anger quickly burning out as tears he should, by all rights, be too dehydrated for began to tumble down his cheeks. "It's not fair."

"I know, Branch," John sighed, reaching for his brother again, only to have his hands slapped away.

"How would you know?! How could you possibly know what this feels like?! This-this awful, hollow feeling from knowing that, no matter what you could've done, no matter how much you wanted it, that your body rejected and killed something so defenseless? Something so small?"

John let his brother rage at him, a look of sympathy on his face. He let out a quiet little sigh, before digging into his hair and producing three small photos. He looked them over for a moment, before holding them out to Branch. His younger brother took them with a confused frown, his nose wrinkling as he tossed the photos back towards John after glancing at them briefly.

"Are you trying to rub something in my face?" Branch snapped, watching as John quickly and reverently picked the photos back up.

"No," John sighed, brushing his thumb over the edge of the photos, "They were mine."

Branch opened his mouth to snap at his brother again, only for his brain to lethargically catch up to what he just saw and heard. John didn't have kids, but he had pictures of eggs. "…Were?"

"Yeah," John gave a little nod, a sad smile on his face as he fanned the photos out and tipped them so Branch could see them again, though he did not offer them back over. "I didn't actually get a picture of the first one, since I sort of blacked out? And my partner at the time took the egg before I could do anything, but…yeah. I took a pictures of the rest. None of them survived past week three."

"I…John," Branch began, eyes wide as his brother tucked the pictures back into his hair.

"Hey, this isn't about me. I just wanted to let you know that I get it. I've been where you are. It's hard, and nothing I say or do will probably ever make you feel better. But, I just want to let you know I'm here. And so is Poppy," John said as he reached out to gently squeeze Branch's knee.

"When were they?"

"Hmm?"

"The eggs. When were they?"

"Oh," John sat back and fidgeted slightly. "Probably in my mid to late twenties? My partner was really, uh, affectionate, let's just say, but not…they weren't really present. It was a fair few years after the band broke up, and I made some really piss poor life decisions."

"And you wanted them?"

John sighed, rubbing at his face, before slumping over to lean on the headboard of Branch's bed, a far away look on his face. "So much. My partner sucked, but I loved kids. And, honestly, thinking I was gonna get to raise a kid of my own, it made me feel like I was getting a second chance to be better. I messed up so bad taking care of you guys, I thought it was the universe giving me a another chance. But that…well, obviously that wasn't really the case."

"I'm sorry."

"Hey!" John sat up, reaching out to tug Branch into a hug, glad that this time his brother fell into his chest without complaint, "Again, this isn't about me. This is about you."

"But…I couldn't imagine going through this again, and again…how did you manage?" Branch murmured, turning his face to bury it against John's shoulder.

"Honestly? I didn't. I wallowed a lot, and I just sort of floated through life. Pretty sure I was grey for a good chunk, too? I honestly don't really remember much. All four of them happened within the span of, like, two years."

"…If I ever find out who your partner was during all that, you know I'm going to send the K-Pop and Reggaeton trolls after them, right?" Branch muttered, half muffled by John's shoulder.

John snorted, rubbing Branch's back as he chuckled. "Yeah, I'm not gonna tell you that. Plus, I would have to honestly say that, with the amount of, mmm, illicit activities they enjoyed, I wouldn't be surprised if time already beat you to that punch."

They sat quietly for some time, John quietly humming as he stroked his fingers up and down Branch's back, while his shoulder became damp with his youngest brothers silent tears. Finally, when he deemed a sufficient amount of time had passed, and his knee began to protest the way he was sitting on the edge of the bed, he gently pushed Branch back so he was sat up. "How're you feeling now?"

"Horrible," Branch stated bluntly, sniffing rather loudly and earning a soft smile from his brother.

"Yeah, I could've guess that," John chuckled, offering Branch a handkerchief from his hair, "You look like garbage. But, do you think you're feeling well enough to see Poppy?"

"…Does she really want to? See me, I mean?" Branch wiped at his face, while he glanced at the fingers of his free hand. "I'm even grey again. This isn't what she signed up for."

"I think you should probably let her decide what she signed up for, Bitty B," John murmured, standing up from the bed and letting out a groan as his back cracked and his knee popped.

"Yeah," Branch sighed, absently wringing the handkerchief in his hands. "You can tell her, whenever she wants to, she can come over. We should talk about this."

"That sounds good," John hummed turning his head slightly, "You hear that, your highness?"

Branch jerked in his spot on the bed, turning wide eyes on his bedroom door as Poppy pushed it open, a bashful, tired little smile on her face as she waved at Branch. "Sorry, I-I really didn't know if you'd want to see me? And you were so sad, so I knew you needed someone to talk to, but I didn't think it being me would've been a good idea, and I couldn't think of anyone else you would let in here, let alone actually talk to, so I just-"

"Poppy!"

Branch let out the first quiet laugh he had in over a week as Poppy's mouth snapped shut with a click of her teeth, while he lifted the blankets in a silent offer to the queen of pop. She let out an audible sob, before rushing the bed and snuggling up into Branch.

"Yeah. You kids'll be okay," John muttered to himself, turning to let himself out of the bedroom as the two began to speak in hushed tones to each other under the blankets.

"John, wait!"

John Dory paused in the doorway, turning a curious glance back at his brother, who was already beginning to look a bit lighter. Not blue, not even close, but not the dark charcoal grey he'd been moments before. "Yeah?"

"Thank you. For being here, and talking to me."

"Whenever you need, you know where to find me," he said with a small nod, before heading out the door.

[yeollie-plz]

Let Me Go

Joel Miller x GN! Reader

Synopsis: Six reasons you wanted Joel Miller and one reason he wouldn't have you.

Genre: Angst, with some fluff for backstory purposes

Warnings: age gap, heart break, cuddling, mentions of fighting

Gif credits to owners!

When you had met Joel, he was this tough guy with a rough exterior. But as time went on there was something warmer about him. Something almost comforting.

This comfort soon turned into reliance and then dependence and sure enough you were in love with the older man. It wasn't just one thing that had led to the fall, actually it was six. You had counted them all, it was exact. Just like his exactly one reason to not have you. The one reason he broke your heart and ignored what he truly felt.

One: Little Gestures

The two of you had met in winter, the snow was falling lightly onto the streets of the Boston QZ. You were freezing, still not used to the chill of the winter air. Not to mention your jacket was thin.

You had met Tess a few times, traded a few things. But you had yet to meet her "guy". This "guy" was Joel, someone she had formed some sort of attachment to. This time Tess had brought Joel along.

He didn't say much, didn't really even make eye contact with you. Instead he sat there, scanning the surroundings.

You shivered slightly as a gust of wind passed the three of you. Not thinking much of it, you continued your conversation. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed something grab Joel's attention as he sauntered off to investigate it.

When he returned, he passed closer to you dropping the jacket that was once donned his shoulders onto your own. Your eyebrows furrowed at the gesture and when you went to question him, he had once again disappeared somewhere. So instead, you gladly accepted the thicker material and its collection of body heat.

You also accepted the flutter in your heart the gesture had given you.

Two: Eyes

Number two was a pair of things: his eyes.

The brown orbs held so much pain, yet every time they passed over5 you there was a softness behind them. It was like he could read everything your mind was trying to tell him. Sometimes they were even trying to scream out to him.

You never needed to bring up the hard stuff to Joel, he just knew. He knew you had pain just like he did. He knew not to dwell on those facts. They were the past and although he didn't see his future he knew yours was as bright as your eyes.

Three: Protector

Tess told you Joel was a protector. He'd do anything for the people he cared about. Even more for those he loved.

"This is why he's so good to have around." She told you. You had always thought there was something between her and Joel. That was until she told you otherwise.

One night you had gotten yourself into a little bit of danger. Some guys were trying to rough you up for some ration cards and luckily Joel happened by the situation. He fought off the men and walked you home.

You were now safely inside your apartment and about to close the door, when Joel held it open with his hand. He looked like something was on his mind.

Neither of you said anything, just held eye contact. Until he finally sighed and let go of your door, leaving.

A few days later you had a meeting with Tess. She brought up the events of that night, apparently Joel had told her. She laughed as she recounted the way he told it.

"I don't know what spell you casted on him but he's entranced with you."

Four: Listener

Joel wasn't much a talked, but he would always listen. You had always had an inquisitive mind. When the world was normal it used to bother your parents and friends, even your teachers sometimes.

But all your questions never seemed to bother Joel. He would sit and listen to them all, even when he didn't have the answers. Even when there was no answers to be given!

And in the rare times he did know a thing or two he would respond, gaining a huge smile from you.

These were the times his heart fluttered.

Five: Cuddles

I know what you're thinking! Joel Miller, a cuddler? You didn't believe it either. But after one particularly long night, you had both fallen asleep on his couch.

There was still a bit of a chill in the air, so naturally your body had gravitated closer to his in search of some warmth.

You were never sure whether it was a conscious decision or not but by the time you woke up the two of you were intertwined together. And this became a habit of yours.

Even when it was no longer cold out, the two of you would cling to each other.

Six: Pretending

After a few months of hanging more with Joel and Tess, they invited you to meet Bill and Frank. It was nice to get out of the QZ and have a normal meal like the whole world wasn't a complete shit show.

At one point you had found yourself inside with only Frank. You had insisted on helping to wash the dishes. While scrubbing a plate, you had caught a glimpse of Joel through the window. Craning to get a better look, you smiled to yourself. All of a sudden Frank laughed, causing you to look over at him.

"What?" You questioned.

"You two are so in love with each other and neither of you see it. It's just funny."

Your eyebrows furrowed and before you could contest, Joel walked into the kitchen.

"Why don't you two go and chat with Bill and Tess? I'll finish this up." He suggested, holding eye contact with you.

Joel wouldn't take no for an answer and ushered the two of you outside. Only to stop you before you made it out the door. He bent down and tied your shoe lace, you hadn't even noticed it had come undone.

Across the room you heard a throat clear and your eyes met Frank's. He gave you a knowing look, mouthing a "see".

One: Heart

The very foundation of a human is their heart. If it stops beating, you no longer have a living being. Only a body.

Joel told you once that his heart had stopped beating a long time ago. And when he was about to leave he told you again.

"I haven't had a heart in years. I haven't felt anything in years. Only pain. Only desperation. But I met you and I had felt my heart beating again. It skipped a beat or two a few times." He let out a small laugh before continuing.

"But I'm not what you deserve. I'm not what you need. I've lived a life and yours is barely starting. You have a beating heart, mine is more like Frankenstein, stitched together."

You couldn't help but to correct him, "Frankenstein was the scientist."

He took a deep breath in, "Then I'm the monster and you're Frankenstein, you stitched me back together."

"But I don't understand, if I've done all this for you, why are you leaving?"

"I can't watch your heart stop beating because of me!" He almost shouted at you.

"You leave and it will stop!" Okay, you were shouting. Grabbing his shirt, pleading him to make eye contact with you.

"I need you to let go. Let me go, Y/N." Finally his eyes met your own and you knew that the man you had fallen in love with was no longer yours.

You had six definitive reasons why you loved Joel Miller, but he had only needed one to leave.

[2demondogs]

Crack ship posting once more with my most out of pocket invention yet (I think): Charles/Molly. "They never interact" that's why it's a crack ship get outta my face and let me cook up some mildly unhealthy horseshit.

Think about it. Both 20 something and don't know what the HELL they are doing in life, and neither of them will admit that or understand their own issues with being listless entirely. Charles is a wanderer at heart and out of place, feels permenantly ostracized from anywhere he could hope to fit in. Meanwhile Molly's forced herself out of place, stumbling into a corner of her own making, excommunicating herself for a romanticized vision of the American West that never existed.

Molly's unfortunately got the "ooo emotionally unavailable man? yes, more suffering please" pattern developing thanks to Dutch. Please get some therapy girl. But check yes yes and yes on the fact Charles intellectualizes the few emotions he realizes he's feeling and discards the rest, and also wouldn't communicate well at all meanwhile she overcommunicates and doesn't let herself cool down or rationalize whatsoever before doing it.

Charles doesn't usually strike out even if he's annoyed with someone, so she might feel like he listens at first and grow fond of him because of that. He kinda dgaf but maybe he does pity her some until he's given a reason to care more in-depth.

He'd definitely not put up with her posh bullshit or stagnation (the latter, a little hypocritically perhaps), but if Molly latches on to him, it's hard to tell what she'd do about that. Could either double down, get angry and keep chasing anyways, or change. Charles understands and accepts his own stagnation a little more than she does and would probably straight up be like "you're all over the place. lock tf in" or whatever he feels like sparing in the way of clipped advice and she'd be astounded because he's kinda right (and it's not as out of her control as Dutch's attachment is, so she's only a little angry that he said it instead of furiously offended).

Also it has the tropes fr. Sunshine x grumpy except Molly's also severely depressed so it's more like despaired x grumpy but whatever. Expressive x stoic. Tall x small. Warm x cool. So on and so forth. Much to consider.

[wimbledon2008]

so i just finished the captive prince series about a week ago and am rereading it now. just finished the hello lover scene and honestly im still so confused over what's going on in laurent's head lmao like??

was he previously compartmentalizing his resentment so well that real feelings developed, but now he finally has a chance to truly let his anger out, he's locking down the positive feelings?

was he being truthful about manipulating damen the whole time (highly unlikely to me)? or was the cruelty in and of itself a play, either to push damen away despite not actually wanting to, or some other convoluted reason? bc damen really would have done anything he asked, trying to outmaneuver him like that was unnecessary.

my first theory feels the most right to me, and he just needed more time to process and purge his desire for revenge but idk im a taurus and very akielon coded. i love laurent but i do not understand that man lol

okay, disclaimer, i haven't read the books in quite some time so this probably isn't the fullest or deepest analysis. i welcome any additions or corrections from those who are better at meta than me <3

so the hello lover scene is incredibly complex and nuanced, a standard of pacat's writing that makes his works so infinitely re-readable. based on my personal understanding of the scene, there are a few key things that help to explain why laurent behaves the way he does in the tent scene:

1. laurent needs damen and the akielons to win against his uncle, which he very much wants to do. charcy didn't go how he'd originally planned, and he knows damen is pissed about it and probably thinks the worst of laurent right now - that he intentionally abandoned the akielons at charcy for his own purposes. so laurent is being manipulative; he is trying to outmaneuver damen. because what damen says is true: laurent has no allies, no friends, he's ruined his reputation by aligning himself with akielos, etc. we as the readers know that damen cares deeply for laurent and wouldn't just abandon him, and if laurent simply explained what happened and asked damen to help him, damen wouldn't hesitate to stay at his side. but laurent doesn't think damen has any reason to trust him, so laurent can't trust damen either. so instead of being honest, he chooses to be cold-blooded, to assert control over the situation and force damen's hand to ensure that the alliance he worked so hard to establish stays intact. he could've just asked, but this is laurent, and there are other factors at play, such as the fact that

2. laurent is already in love with damen by the tent scene, or at least most of the way there. but laurent can no longer pretend damen is anyone other than the person who killed his brother. damen walks into that tent as prince damianos, in full akielon regalia, covered in blood, with a sword. laurent has been doing some aggressive compartmentalizing, especially in order to have allowed himself to sleep with damen. who killed his brother, which was the inciting incident that made laurent's life a living hell. laurent has not forgiven damen for auguste, and he's having to really confront that hatred and anger for maybe the first time since the first book. and laurent is also punishing himself for caring for and sleeping with damen, his brother's killer. can you even imagine? it's better not to. laurent probably hates himself as much as he hates damianos in that moment. so he shoves all those glimmering, positive feelings down because he wants to hurt damen, and himself too. and none of this is particularly rational because

3. laurent is very upset at the beginning of king's rising. this is an understatement. he's still reeling from nicaise's death, which he blames himself for, he's losing damen, the only person he trusted, he was recently stabbed, and everything is spiraling out of his tightly held control. and when laurent is upset he's cruel. he's not at his best in the tent scene. he's clinging to his own self-preservation, and he's making it up as he goes along because whatever his original plan was got blown to hell, which is clear because he's saying shit that doesn't even make sense. see, e.g., this post about him allegedly enduring damen's "fumbling attentions" to win a battle he didn't even know about at the time. while laurent is being cold and ruthless to secure his position as best he can (see no. 1), he's also acting from a place of emotion instead of strict rationality, which is how he typically operates, and how he prefers to act. he's on the defensive, he's deeply confused and unable to cope with all of his conflicting feelings about damen, and he's lashing out - protecting himself before damen can hurt him first. and then damen literally sticks his thumb in his stab wound. basically: our boy laurent's going through it in a major way.

going back and re-reading your message i realize i've essentially just reiterated everything you initially said but with a lot of extra words. so i guess the long and short of it is: you're right. honestly there are so many ways to interpret the tent scene and everything else laurent says and does, which is what makes him so fascinating! so thanks for giving me the opportunity to dive back into his psyche for a little while <3

[lakesbian]

okay so 2.8. overall thoughts on rachel's introduction.

rachel not wanting a fifth person to join the team is ostensibly about the money she would lose from it, but it's more importantly about the fact that, as a disabled girl deeply unwanted by society, she has absolutely no trust in people. she can tolerate brian, lisa, and alec for the sake of the security and stability, but she doesn't trust them beyond the bare minimum. a strange person being brought into her house is deeply scary. she's used to every single new person she meets being a threat, someone with motives she can't read expecting her to operate based on arbitrary rules she can't understand. and because she has been taught that the only way to keep herself safe is to hurt people before they can hurt her (everyone will always want to hurt her), her immediate reaction to taylor Being There is to sic her dogs on taylor with hopes of scaring her off & securing her environment again. rachel autism lindt <3

brian is the second person we see breaking out the not-so-repressed violence and anger in this scene. he clocks rachel in the face, he says

“I fucking hate it,” Brian growled at the girl, putting emphasis on the swear, “When you make me do that.”

and he does some yelling about God Fucking Dammit. i think the crux of brian is that he consciously fervently does not want to be like his abusive stepfather, but the only alternative he's been taught was by his father...who is, unbeknownst to brian, also abusive. he's been taught that masculinity = good + mandatory and strength = masculine. his vision for himself as a Good Man who Takes The Lead and Cares For People involves stifling his 'weak' emotions and running himself ragged. he's not even very good at repressing himself compared to the other undersiders, so he's prone to outbursts like this sometimes--where, regardless of whether or not the violence he's engaging in is rationally justifiable, it's immensely charged w/ undertones of reminding him of exactly who he wants to avoid being.

it is Fully Understandable why, as a 17yo w/ zero training in conflict deescalation, the only way he can think to solve the matter of rachel violently siccing her dogs on someone is socking her. but "i fucking hate it when you make me do that" is still eerily reminiscent of some things his abusive stepfather has likely said to him before. he doesn't Want to be like that, but he doesn't know how to let himself be anything other than that.

(this situation w/ rachel and taylor sucks for him, ftr. he was so genuinely elated that he'd Acted Normal Enough to snap up this cool addition to the team, a girl with a good power who actively thinks along the exact same rational lines as him. which is important, because he needs the undersiders to succeed so that he can care for aisha like he feels he needs to. and then rachel busts in ruins what he's viewing as this great success by attacking taylor to drive her off. brian laborns bad day. rachel lindts bad day. tayor heberts bad day. lisa wilbourns deeply stressful day. alec vasils depression slump day.)

AND we get to watch taylor be violent and angry as well. that one is very simple there's not much to say about it. she's full of violent repressed anger (it's why she imagines beating the shit out of emma & co when she's being bullied in the halls prior to meeting the undersiders again), she usually holds it back because she recognizes that it would just cause the system to fuck her over more in the long-run, and here she realizes that there's no consequence of fighting back and proceeds to whale on rachel.

(i think that the reason she's primarily violent with her own human body here instead of w/ the bugs is because her usage of the bugs is frequently a form of dissociation--and here, rather than having to dissociate her way thru a violent situation, she's finally allowed to confront it head on and fight back w/ hands and feet As Herself. sucks and traumatizing to be attacked by dogs, but cathartic to be able to fight back.)

meanwhile: lisa is presumably vividly imagining slamming her own head into a brick wall and alec (badly depressed, seen far worse) doesnt even care with all the shit he's got going on

[zeyris-daydreams]

How would Tighnari react to a group of people bunny darling knows visiting her to find her not working anymore? And highly suspicious Tighnari “that doesn’t know where his worker went”

Tighnari knows this excuse isn't valid after a few times, as people demand answers. However how is he supposed to know? He wasn't with you, even Cyno testified that?

Plus, the fennec is known for kindness and care for people and the forest. That's why he has his vision, and surely Celestia would strike one who misuses such gift. Therefore, with Cyno's help, it's not hard to convince outsiders of your circumstances? Not to mention it's not that hard to make Collei accept the situation, if she found out. I mean, Tighnari is a good man.

She believes that he does what's necessary, and even so she avoids thinking about the topic. So when someone asked her as well, with guilt in her heart she'd cover for him. She believes he does this for a reason, and so does Cyno.

Tighnari and Cyno could plot up a story of you being eaten by the forest cats, cause you're a bunny. It's your bad for straying far. Hell, he'd bring your torn clothes to prove you were "dead", if they believe you "died" then they won't search for you either. And if that doesn't work, maybe Cyno can testify that.. well, you went away.

Honestly it's not that hard for these two to come up with some very convincing excuses, with Tighnari's knowledge of biology and Cyno's strategic mind? You're low-key kinda screwed. Even if you get out it's not like it will be for long, Cyno won't handle his friend being distressed for a prolonged period of time you see?

So, no one looks for you after they make up an excuse. This doesn't mean people aren't suspicious cause they are but with Cyno on the case they can hardly do any research about it? If Cyno didn't know and didn't help, Tighnari would take longer to take people off his tail. After all he'd just get stressed, and Cyno would just consider this rationally.

[amethystina]

In chapter 5 of Who Holds the Devil, Ga On doesn't send Elijah a picture of Komi and he wakes up to several messages from her being worried. At this time, what do you think was going on in Switzerland? Because if she was stressing out about it, do you think she spoke to Yo Han or not, and if so, what would be his reaction to this?

Hope you can recover well!

She eventually spoke to Yo Han about it, yes, but it took a while before she got worried enough to do so. She's used to Ga On working late sometimes and so at first she figured her reminders would be enough. Which means she sent the majority of the messages you can read in the chapter before she even considered going to Yo Han.

And, by the time she did, it was mostly because she realised that it was so late in South Korea that Ga On might already have gone to bed, and he still hadn't contacted her. Which she felt was very unlike Ga On.

As for Yo Han's reaction, there is, unsurprisingly, quite a big difference between what he chooses to show Elijah and what he's feeling internally.

He'd be pretty flippant with Elijah, downplaying the severity of the situation, telling her that it's probably nothing to worry about. Maybe Ga On was busy with something and his phone ran out of batteries, so he didn't get her reminders? Or maybe he just forgot? Yo Han can come up with several very rational and logical explanations as to why Ga On didn't send Elijah any pictures.

Basically, Yo Han would try to calm her down by pretending it's no big deal. And tell her to at least wait until tomorrow before she starts freaking out

Internally, however?

He'd be worried, too.

Because no matter what he tells Elijah, Yo Han knows that Ga On wouldn't just forget a promise like that. Ga On cares too much about Elijah to disappoint her. So something must definitely have happened, Yo Han just doesn't know what. And while Yo Han is well aware that the explanation might be perfectly innocent, his mind would also start spinning towards worst-case scenarios — because that's how he works. He needs to be aware of the possibilities and, if need be, prepare for the worst.

And, somewhere around there, Yo Han would be frustrated that he can't track Ga On yet. He already decided that he wants to long before this, but this is one of those things that helps him decide that, yeah, he needs to give Ga On something he can track sooner rather than later so this won't happen again. Yo Han has no idea where Ga On is and it's making him antsy as hell.

The closest he can get is to text Lawyer Ko and ask if Ga On was at work that day. But even if Lawyer Ko says yes, that still leaves far too many possibilities. A lot could have happened to Ga On in the hours after he left work.

But Yo Han would tell Elijah none of this, of course — especially since the crisis is averted the very next day. Nor would Yo Han ever mention it to Ga On. It's just one of those things that stays inside Yo Han's head and influences his choices later, but is more or less invisible to everyone else. Perhaps not so surprisingly, there are a lot of those. As Ga On has pointed out: there's always a reason for the choices Yo Han makes. And, sometimes, the information he's basing that choice on was gathered weeks, months, or even years ago.

That man's brain never stops processing x'D

I hope that answers your question! :D

And thank you so much for the concern 💜 Unfortunately, I'm not feeling the best right now (neither mentally nor physically) but I know it's temporary so I'm just trying to wait it out :)

[ride-thedragon]

I'm so tired of defending his ass

but it needs to be said the Daemon who leaves King's Landing with Nettles is not the Daemon who marries Rhaenyra on Dragonstone.

He has lost 4 kids that he either made or helped raise. His family is feeling the brunt of that grief. He lost a brother at the start of the war as well, his last immediate family member.

His wife is actively isolated in her grief.

A young girl who just lost her home and a friend is also grieving. They have shared grief over Jace and are sent away from anyone else they can connect to during such a tumultuous time in their lives. They literally have to depend on each other each day to search for Vhagar.

In the show, I don't think that Daemon, known reactionary and emotional man, will handle it well. He still hasn't processed his brother's death from the way he reacted to the news about it.

(Thinking Alicent committed regicide to crown her son while his brother was a visual representation of the fates from Hercules cutting the thread of life/ Choking Rhaenyra for rightfully implying that had her father trusted him as heir he'd have known the prophecy)

So, I don't think that well established characterization is going to change. He's grieving, he's going to continue doing it throughout the war, and when his wife isn't trusting him or going through their shared grief with him (completely justifiably) he's going to turn to someone we know is alone in her grief during the war when he's sent away with her.

Her isolation is juxtaposed with Addam's in the narrative because where he has Corlys, she has no one to go through the exact thing with.

I don't think she'll turn away from someone she can relate to in that moment.

I think there's a misguided attempt to devalue his characterization in Episode 10 in the fandom, and while I understand it because of ships, I don't think it's a good thing. It's only going to serve to disillusion viewers who ship Daemon and Rhaenyra currently into not caring for the setup, and if the writers pay the slightest bit of attention, which they seem to do, they'll push hard to make everyone understand that this is not happily ever after, or a fairytale with a perfect ending of dying as one's lover calls.

Writers , especially ones who have domain over ASOIAF lore, are going to break your hearts to draw thematic parallels to the original series. And because a lot of you seem to glide past simple themes, they'll need to double down to get their point across.

(They already had to in season one, and some of you still didn't get it. Like Nyra not being a man is the reason she's so readily usurped or Daemon not being rational in grief or Alicent stuck in a perpetual cycle of abuse that she's been conditioned to not escaped and perpetuate to others.)

This is not a fight for your favorite ship. Write fanfiction. Stop fighting character development and developing themes.

Stop making hard to hate Daemon because of misinterpretations and attempts to defy characterizations. I just want a safe space to hate him and love the women he'd have been with. (Lady Rhea safe space).

I'm not known for my Daemyra love by any means but I do understand why people like it and I'm not one to go out of my way to hate on it. (Nettles love isn't Nyra hate)

But I feel like the narrative about the show runners ruining Daemyra by doing the Nettles plotline is over done and not fair to people who like her, Daemon or their relationship. The show runners have made it very clear who this man is and fortunately have shown his selfish actions along with his good ones to show his nature.

(Laena was never the issue. Rhaenyra isn't going to be the issue. There's a common thread.)

Me to Targ / ASOIAF men.

[romanarose]

Ship me!

I think you know me well enough to just go for it. You know I'm married to Marc Spector, but like aside from him...

I will also accept a Pedro answer, but I only know his 2 Javi's, Dieter, Din, Joel, Maxwell, Frankie, Oberyn, and of course we can all speculate about the new Marcus

Here are my biggest relationship things:

loyalty, sincerity/authenticity

sense of humor a bonus, I can live without it, I think

I like PDA (be a little possessive)

But at home, I need my space. (Not a huge cuddler)

Can we cook together?

Does he like outdoors?

Can we nerd out together?

^ Does a man like this even exist??

after careful consideration, I ship you with Frankie!

I think Frankie's humor is more subtle (You know i ship fishben, i think part of the reason is bens humor is more brash and loud, Frankie I think is subtle, more dry like the office.) However, he can absolutly be a goof. I think outside of life or death movies lol, he's kinda like jim from the office. I watched TF with my mom and she said while she really liked Will (he was rational lol) Frankie was the most enjoyable to watch. Watch Triple frontier again and pay attention to his faces, especially after the donkey falls and almost takes frankie with it and everyone is arguing and he rolls his eyes XD

Biggest is he IS sincere and loyal. You will never ever wonder where he is and with who and why. Never gives you a single reason to think he's cheating or hiding anything except , MAYBE depending where he's at in life, his drug problem. However, I don't think his drug use is that bad in the movies? He goes to colombia without any withdrawl syntoms. Maybe just encourage him to go to therapy <3 but honestly he's very straightforeward. He just says things as they are "hey princessa Im going over to Santi's, Ben and Will might show up, wanna come?"

I think the slight switch is the affection public and at home. In leather and lace you dont see him and jana together again and much of Take Your Time is them fighting for their lives lmfao but For the Longest time they are together and HAPPY. Frankie is not naturally inclinded to kissing in public I think. I think he's easily embaressed. But hes also very protective and possesive. He's the type to have a hand on you in some way, mostly hand holding, maybe his hand on your hip to keep you close if he's on high alert. He knows how men are, especially drunk men. In LAL universe he's very aware that Jana is fucking stunning and my dude is constantly fighting for his life as she gets hit on , even 8 months pregnant XD He'd be the exact same with you. I think he'd WANT to be progressive and not like a caveman, but he'd be seething in anger (not at you if some man talked to you even though they CLEARLY saw you come in with him!!)

At home thought I think he's quite touchy and likes to be close. Im sure though communication you can work it out, like one of you can explicitly state i need space or i need to be close. I think Will is touchy while Lorelei is like you, more personal space. She can often be found with her feet propped up on his lap but oppiset ends of the couch. Maybe something like that (compare to Santi and laci who will just suck each others face in public and need constant skin to skin bc they are both traumatized)

Nerd out, yes. I think Frankie is highly intellgent but in a sciency way. He wont know wtf you're talking about with daredevil and moon knight but boy, he will listen. He will go to every movie premire with you, even read a fanfiction should you care to share.

outdoors are a YES just dont make him go up into mountains again. Maybe some hills. thats it.

[allgather]

favorite sections of this post that i feel really capture the core of jonouchi as a person. i'm obsessed with these words.

jounouchi is very stuck on this idea that he needs to be useful. his dad is an alcoholic with a gambling addiction and he believes it's not only his duty to pay his father's debts, but to be the household's sole source of income. his sister needs eye surgery and he believes it's his responsibility as an older brother not only to pay for it, but to act as her primary emotional support to get the surgery and throughout her recovery process.... it's habitual, jounouchi doesn't know how to stop taking on the burdens of other people. if you live with the mentality that you’re inevitably going to fail for long enough, you’ll come away with the belief that caring about your own wellbeing isn’t worth the effort. it depends on how pessimistic you want to read it, if it’s just his love language or jounouchi compensating for the damning act of being himself, but jounouchi quantifies his worth by how much he provides for other people. he’s always jumping in the line of fire for the sake of others because if you constantly undervalue your own wellbeing, you always have less to lose. as the underdog, he may not be as overtly powerful as kaiba or yugi, but he can still give himself away, and he’s convinced himself that it’s what he’s supposed to do. a key distinction between jounouchi and kaiba’s upbringings is that while kaiba’s biological parents died in an accident, jounouchi’s parents are still alive and they choose not to be responsible for him. jounouchi is conditioned to fend for himself by himself because having a parental figure actually present in his life isn’t a luxury he gets to have. to jounouchi, there has to be a reason why his mother only takes shizuka and never goes back for him in the six years he’s left with his father, and he rationalizes this... jounouchi is not delicate, he can endure it.... jounouchi is hyperindependent because he believes he deserves it. it’s the reason why he believes he’ll finally have a good relationship with his father if he just wins enough money to pay off his gambling debts—jounouchi can fix everything if only he were man enough to, and he can get people to stay if he demonstrates himself useful enough. so death doesn’t carry nearly as much weight to jounouchi as it does to kaiba. in kaiba’s eyes, death is the punishment for failure, but to jounouchi, death is just the natural consequence for the kind of life he leads. he can't stop himself from fighting for the people he loves until he’s spent everything and forced to stop (read: dies), so during the several times jounouchi is confronted with his own death, he meets it with a solemn acceptance. like, yeah, it sucks, but he doesn’t regret the actions he took to end up here—he’d do it all over again, frankly. it’s better to die than not give everything he can, and at least he was able to give his life in service to someone else. it’s not necessarily good to die, but it doesn’t matter as much if he does.

this post understands jou so well to his core - and i think these are a lot of the concepts i am trying to get across in my portrayal of him. reckless, but not without cause. his life is about utility - to die in service of those he loves, well, he sorta always thought he'd go out that way.