#sorry the mental illness is strong with him. need him to get kissed on the mouth | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

7s3ven · 9 months ago

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THE IDEA OF US. theodore nott

( master list )

IN WHICH… the saddest thing in a relationship is knowing you met the wrong person at the wrong time yet you still can’t let them go.

“She’ll be the best you ever had if you let her. I know it’s for the better.”

A/N : This took me at least a week to right, omg

Warnings : toxic relationship, swearing, ed (eating d1sorder) mentioned, mental illness, mentions of sex, dirty jokes, making out, y/n and theo are both bitches, vulgar language, angst

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Y/N L/N and Theodore Nott had been good friends for years. And their families had known each other for much longer. Since childhood, the two had been attached at the hip and nothing changed when they were accepted into Hogwarts.

“Y/N.” Theo called out, jogging to catch up with the girl. She turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow.

“No, you can’t copy my answers, Theo. I told you to do the homework yourself.”

Theo sheepishly smiled. The day he was supposed to be studying, he was at a party. Y/N was there too, though she had already completed all her assignments and could drink without a care. Y/N had always been the better at academics out of the two.

“Change of topic, are you going to the Malfoy ball?” Theo asked. Y/N almost scoffed. She had no choice and neither did he. If their parents were going, they had to as well.

“Duh. What’s the color of your suit?”

“Dark blue. Apparently I look better in navy according to my mother.”

“Debatable.” Y/N hummed.

“Your dress?”

“Also dark blue. Matching. Again.” Y/N sarcastically smiled.

They seemed to coincidentally match for every important event; this was the fifth time. Y/N wasn’t sure if it was accidental anymore considering their mothers always chose their clothes for these events.

Theo chuckled, “I think our parents are up to something.”

“You just noticed?”

“Well, sorry I don’t pay that much attention to people like you.”

“Yeah, you’re too busy undressing girls with your eyes to notice.”

“The only girl I’m undressing is you and I don’t need my eyes for it. My hands can do that for me.” Theo smugly smirked while Y/N’s face scrunched up in disgust. She pushed him, causing the brunette to crash into a nearby stone wall. He winced, which amused Y/N.

“Think twice before you try and get me in bed, Nott.”

Theodore Nott was a handsome fellow with his slightly curled hair, messy tie, and the smell of cigarettes blending in with his strong cologne. As embarrassing as it was to admit, Y/N wasn’t opposed to the idea of kissing him. He was attractive after all but still her best friend. It was never a good idea to date someone you saw every day because once you broke up, it became too awkward to bear.

That wasn’t the only reason. The main reason were Theo’s eyes. His gaze was constantly bored and dead, even when he was around beautiful girls. He never showed emotion apart from the smug smirk Y/N liked to wipe off his face. If she dated him, would he still he bored? Showing appreciation was never his strong point.

Theo slung his arm around Y/N’s shoulders. “I was thinking that since you don’t like potions and I don’t either, we could take a little detour. Sneak in a cig or two. Maybe even some forbidden romance.”

For two years, Theo had been playfully flirting with Y/N. Nobody batted an eye, already assuming that the pair had something going on. Y/N could still remember the first terrible pickup line Theo had used on her after the Christmas break.

Y/N was walking down the steps that led to the girls’ dorms. She adjusted her tie so it wasn’t choking her to death. Her blouse and skirt were a size too small because she, or rather her parents, had forgotten to order a new uniform.

She spotted her usual friend group consisting of the highest-ranking Slytherins all perched upon the couches next to the fireplace. As she waltzed towards them, Theo lifted his head and for a moment, Y/N swore there was a flash of emotion before it disappeared.

“Matt, have you seen Pansy? She wasn’t in the dorm when I woke up.” Y/N placed a hand on Matteo’s shoulder like she always did. He turned to look at her, startled.

“Y/N, I didn’t even recognise you.”

“Seriously, Matt?”

“What? You’ve changed a lot!”

“My boobs just got bigger.”

Matteo’s eyes flickered down before he nodded. “Yeah, I can see that.”

Theo leaned over to smack Matteo’s head. “Stop staring at her chest, you idiot.” As always, he came to Y/N’s rescue, even when she didn’t exactly need it.

“Matteo was right, though.” Theo piped up as he walked Y/N to class. “You have changed.” He heard her laugh. “I’m serious. It’s the way you carry yourself, not just your face.”

Theo was her best friend but he had never been so… gentle with her. He fanned his face with his hand, loudly exhaling. “Is it hot in here or is it just you?”

It took Y/N a moment to realise what he was implying. She stared at him, unamused. “Never talk to me again.”

“I’ll take you up on that cigarette offer.” Y/N uttered, “But not the romance. Stay six meters away from me.”

That’s how Y/N and Theo ended up in the latter’s room, sharing one of Matteo’s cigarettes and laughing.

“Okay, but seriously. How many cloaks do you think Snape has in his wardrobe.” Y/N asked as she took the thin blunt from Theo.

He blew out a cloud of smoke. “He changes? I thought he lived in one.” An amused grin spread across the Slytherin’s face. “How many students do you think have accidentally patted Mcgonagall thinking she was a normal cat?”

“Plenty, I’m sure.” Y/N turned her head, almost jolting when her nose brushed Theo’s. “Ew, why are you so close?” She said it teasingly, grinning at her friend who was strangely silent.

“Sorry.” He whispered.

In all honesty, Theo wasn’t having much luck containing the thought of kissing Y/N either. The first few years of school were purely platonic but once everybody started to grow up, Theo found himself in an unusual predicament; he had feelings for his best friend.

“If you want to kiss me, you could’ve just said so.” It was another playful jab at Theo but with all the smoke rushing to his head, he took it literally. Y/N didn’t expect him to grab her by the chin, forcefully pushing his lips against hers like he had been starved of kissing, which she knew wasn’t true. She had seen Theo kissing a brunette girl at a party weeks ago. Yet he hadn’t kissed her with such passion.

Theo was the first to pull away, his chest heaving up and down. Y/N remained still. She parted her lips to say something but no word rolled off her tongue.

“Theo.” She finally said. “What was that?”

“I thought you were being serious.” He was still unbearably close, his strong cologne washing over Y/N and clouding her senses. “We don’t have to talk about it… but I needed it. Let me have this, Y/N.”

She had never heard Theo beg. It sparked a fire of warmth in her chest. “Ask nicely.” She muttered. Theo paused for a short moment before he thickly swallowed.

“Please.”

The moment the word slipped past his lips in such a delicate way, Y/N leaned forward. Theo tilted his head back as their lips met once more, hands clumsily trailing over each other’s bodies and holding their breaths to make the kiss last longer.

Theo felt ashamed that he was kissing his friend but in the moment, that was the last thing on his mind. All he could focus on was Y/N. She was practically on top of him, easily taking control while he was reduced to putty.

Y/N with her perfect hair and untainted uniform.

Y/N with her chuckles of amusement at Theo’s reactions.

She was all that occupied his mind. He repeated her name in his head like a mantra, never stopping until they were wrapped and tangled in his bed sheets.

They never spoke of that particular day but a new spark had been born; one that consumed both their lives. Everybody noticed the not-so-secretive looks Theo sent Y/N and the small shared smiles in between classes. Like old times, Theo never left Y/N’s side. He paid no attention to other girls, not when his arm was wrapped around Y/N as she laughed with Pansy and made fun of Matteo. And despite the pair silently vowing the incident where they ended up in Theo’s bed together would not occur a second time, it always happened again.

The holidays finally arrived and the pinochle event of the wizarding world was finally drawing in; the Malfoy ball.

“Where’s Y/N?” Pansy was the last of the group to arrive at the manor, holding a bag that contained her dress and her extensive collection of makeup.

“Coming later.” Theo said, running a hand through his hair.

The whole group had decided to meet at the Malfoy Manor to get ready. Everybody but Y/N. This wasn’t unusual behaviour for her; she always stated how she worked better alone. Theo almost laughed at the memory of how she’d always refuse to do group work.

“How do you know that?” Draco piped up.

Theo casually shrugged as if he hadn’t spent two hours with Y/N. “I saw her on my way. She’ll probably arrive when the event starts.”

Pansy pouted. “I wanted her to help me with my dress.”

“I’ll help.” Draco said a little too quickly. Matteo and Lorenzo snickered together, playing kicking kissing faces at the platinum blond.

“Oh, shut up you morons.” Draco hissed as he followed Pansy to the bathroom to help her. As soon as he was gone, Lorenzo and Matteo chose Theo as their new victim.

“So, I couldn’t help but notice a little romance thing going on between you and a certain H/C-nette.” Matteo coolly uttered, resting an arm on Theo’s shoulder.

Lorenzo subtly rolled his eyes. “Who hasn’t noticed? It’s quite obvious.”

“There’s nothing going on between us.” Theo muttered, adjusting his tie.

“Yeah. That bracelet on your arm says otherwise.” Matteo fired back. Theo almost started cursing at him. He had forgotten how he jokingly slid on one of Y/N’s bracelets. To make matters worse, not only were her initials carved into the silver but so was her full name.

“Coincidence.” Theo grumbled, quickly pocketing the bracelet.

“What about you two always sneaking off? You love staying at parties until the end but lately, you’ve been disappearing. Into rooms. With you-know-who.” Lorenzo was ganging up on Theo as well, much to his annoyance.

“I’m not fucking Matteo’s dad.” Theo retorted.

“When I said you-know-who, I meant Y/N!”

“I know! It was a joke, Enzo!” Theo huffed, his gaze darting back to the large mirror in front of him.

“We hear you, by the way.” Matteo whispered. “The walls are thin and we have to hang out in Blaise’s dorm when the door is closed because we know what’s happening.”

“Oh, please. Please. Yes, right there.” Lorenzo mocked, copying the noises he had heard mere days ago. Theo’s cheeks flushed red.

“That’s not me.” He was already losing to Matteo and Lorenzo’s little game but he stood firm.

“Hm. Right.” Matteo didn’t believe his friend’s words for one second. “Well, I better get dressed. Guests will be arriving soon. Can’t wait to see your little principessa or whatever you call her in bed.” He walked off, cackling like a hyena. Only Lorenzo was left.

“Just confess to her, dude. She probably feels the same way.” Lorenzo matted Theo’s back before he followed after Matteo, needing to get dressed as well.

Theo found himself alone in the glittering ballroom, still waiting for his late companions. He swirled the champagne around in his glass in boredom, almost wanting to spill it on someone to watch their reaction.

“All by yourself, Nott?”

Theo didn’t waste any time in spinning around. “Y/N.” He stated. She was staring up at him, focused on his eyes like she always was. Sometimes Theo wondered if he could see the slight joy in his gaze whenever she was around.

“Where are the others?” She questioned.

“I’m not sure. Right now, it’s just me.”

Y/N smiled. “That’s good because I was looking forward to spending more time with you.” As if they didn’t spend enough time together as they were.

“Isn’t it funny how our mothers dressed us up in not only the same color, but the same shade, as well?” Theo grinned. “Same fabric too. Are they trying to tell us something?”

“What? That we should date?”

Theo deeply hummed. “I wouldn’t be opposed to it.” He placed his glass on a nearby table, his attention focused solely on Y/N. “The party’s just started so let’s find a way to pass the time.”

Y/N grasped his tie, pulling him forward. “You’re on, Nott.”

They found themselves in a dark and crowded room filled with old antiques. Theo harshly kissed Y/N, tightly gripping her waist. In the midst of the heated moment, three words that Y/N dreaded accidentally slipped past her lips.

“I love you.” She froze, realising what she had said out of impulse.

“That’s too bad.” Theo joked but his words still made her heart sink and she felt numb in the actions that followed their kisses.

Nobody was shocked when they returned to Hogwarts to find that Y/N, who never liked anyone, and Theo, who only engaged in casual relationships, were dating. It was expected because they hardly spent any time apart, which made room for romantic feelings.

Theo knocked on Y/N’s dorm door. Somehow, he had found a way past the charm placed on the stairs. “Hey, the Ravenclaws are having a party. Wanna go? The whole gang is going.” He stepped into her room that she shared with Pansy and two other Slytherin girls.

Y/N was sitting on a desk pushed into the corner next to a window, overlooking the scenery. “Don’t feel like it.” She muttered, busy writing an essay for who knows what. Theo faltered.

“Are you sure? Otherwise I’ll go with Mel.”

Y/N paused and she slowly glanced over her shoulder. “Mel?” She raised her eyebrows in a condescending way. “Who’s that?”

“One of Pansy’s friends but she’s cool. She’s the one who invited us anyway.”

“Okay.” Y/N turned back to her work without uttering another word, leaving Theo frustrated.

“Why are you mad?” He questioned, taking a step forward.

“I’m not.” The monotone sound of Y/N’s voice made it clear that she was. “You can go to the party, I don’t care.”

“I wasn’t asking for your permission.”

“And I wasn’t asking you to bring up another girl.”

Theo clenched his jaw. Y/N had been in a jealous state for over a week. Every time Theo simply accidentally glanced at another girl, she grew mad.

He spun Y/N’s chair around, firmly placing his hands on her shoulders so she couldn’t shove him away. He could smell her expensive body lotion and perfume as it washed over him. “What the fuck is going on with you?” He seethed, “You’ve been like this all week. I don’t fucking know what you want, Y/N.”

“I want you to stop paying attention to other girls. Easy.” She shrugged.

“Maybe I wouldn’t need to look at other girls if you were more laid-back.” The biting words rolled off Theo’s tongue before he could stop them. Annoyance clouded his brain but he knew he’d come to regret it when he saw that glint of anger in Y/N’s eyes.

“I’m asking for the bare minimum, Theo.”

He didn’t even know what she was asking at this point.

Y/N clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes like she always did. “Go to the party, see if I care. Maybe Mel is more laidback than me.”

With a strong push, Y/N shoved Theo back. She walked into the bathroom, slamming the door shut. Theo stood in the same spot for a moment, trying to register what had happened. He heard the faint sound of the bath water running; Y/N always had relaxing baths when she was stressed.

“Come to the party if you change your mind.” Theo called out in a futile attempt to make amends. All he got in reply was a loud hum.

Theo wasn’t too sure when their relationship went downhill. It was great for a while in the honeymoon phase until the arguments started.

Theo would scream at Y/N for not eating so she could use that time to study until her nose bled and she passed out from exhaustion.

Y/N would accuse Theo of cheating because he spent about as much time with other girls as he did with Y/N and his friends. It wasn’t his fault he was a heartthrob.

After every fight, they made peace and promised not to let their mistakes happen again. But they always did because history repeats itself until you learn from it. Perhaps Theo and Y/N were like two puzzle pieces that didn’t exactly match but you forced them to anyway.

“Theo.” Mel’s hand brushed his shoulder as she handed him a dark bottle of beer. “What’s on your mind?”

Mel smelled like roses and sweet strawberries while Y/N’s perfume was always addictive and deep. They were complete opposites but Theo had always preferred Y/N’s.

“Y/N.” Theo grumbled, taking a gulp from the bottle.

“She’s always causing problems.” It was not Mel’s place to say such a thing but she wasn’t wrong.

“I don’t know. She’s been so paranoid and it’s just rubbing me the wrong way. She gets mad at me every five minutes, even for shit I don’t do. She’ll blame Matteo’s tricks on me.”

Mel shifted closer to Theo, their hands accidentally brushing. She smiled. “You’ve told me about all this before. Why don’t you just break up?”

Theo almost wanted to laugh. Him? Break up with Y/N? She was a L/N, a prestigious family that stood above everybody else. He’d need to have a death wish to leave her. The only way he could get out unscathed was if Y/N broke up with him or if it was mutual.

Mel’s finger trailed up his thigh and despite Theo giving her a look to stop, he didn’t grasp her wrist.

His stomach sank in dread as someone behind him cleared their throat. “Is “one of Pansy’s friends” now code for a new fuck buddy?” Y/N leaned over, her warm breath hitting Theo’s neck. He could feel the anger radiating off her. “Nice one, Nott. You almost had me convinced you’d settled down.”

Theo was up in a heartbeat, practically pushing Mel away from him. He raced after Y/N, who had already exited the Ravenclaw common room. She was now quickly pacing through the dimly lit corridors, no particular location in mind.

“Y/N! Wait up!” Theo shouted, his voice echoing. He was expecting Y/N to speed up but instead, she spun around and grabbed him by the collar.

“What were you doing with her, huh?” Y/N hissed, “Just because you’ve finally tied me down doesn’t mean you can go and not put effort into this relationship!”

“I was only talking to her!”

“Well, it didn’t look purely platonic! Her hand was on your thigh and you didn’t even stop her!”

“That’s just the way girls are with me! What am I supposed to do, huh? You can’t ban me from talking to other people!”

Y/N shoved Theo, “You are so frustrating! You never take anything seriously!”

“And you take everything too literally. I was just talking to her! Nothing else!”

“She looked like she wanted to fucking kiss you! And she was probably going to!”

“Everybody wants to kiss me! Where’s the problem in that, huh?! You kiss me!”

“The problem is you have a fucking girlfriend!”

“You’re the one always talking to other guys like some…” Theo spluttered, tripping over his own words in search of a retort. “Some sort of slut!” As always, he immediately regretted his words. Y/N’s face morphed into a look of fury.

“I have been loyal from day one!” She screeched, “The thought of cheating has never crossed my mind so don’t you dare call me a slut when you know the only person here willing to cheat would be you!”

Y/N and Theo stared at each other, panting heavily. “Fuck you.” Theo whispered.

“Why don’t you go back to the party and fuck Mel instead, huh?” Y/N wittily snapped back. The last of Theo’s calmness finally broke and he grabbed Y/N by the shoulder, shoving her into an empty classroom and locking the door behind him.

“Mel is only a friend. She’s not my girlfriend, you are. I have never thought of cheating either and the fact you accuse me of it is preposterous.”

“Using big words now, are you?” Even in a locked room with someone who could easily throw her out the window, Y/N was making annoyingly smart remarks.

Theo spoke again, only it wasn’t in English. He angrily spoke in full Italian, yelling at her. Y/N had learnt a few words for his sake but she found it hard to keep up.

The fast words slipped past Theo’s lips and he paused, waiting for Y/N to answer as if she actually understood him. She awkwardly smiled. “Uh… Sì?”

“At least you know that word. Mel doesn’t know any Italian so who’s the better one between you two, huh? I’ll give you a hint. I like girls who attempt to learn my language.”

“So get Mel to learn it.”

“I love you, not her.” Theo insisted.

“It’s too late for that.”

Theo let out a quiet sigh as Y/N unlocked the door. She paused, waiting for him to call out for her again. He didn’t.

“Have fun.” She grumbled.

Theo ran his tongue over his teeth before he grabbed Y/N’s shoulder. “Every time we argue, we don’t try to resolve it. So we’re going to work it out right here, right now.”

“Don’t you have a girl to get back to?” Y/N sneered.

“See, that’s your problem. You’re insecure.”

Y/N scoffed, folding her arms over her chest. She wasn’t insecure; she was far from it. She was the most confident girl in the year.

“You get paranoid every time I talk to a girl. You’re controlling and you’re always accusing me of shit I would never do.”

“You cheated on your first girlfriend.” Y/N piped up, making Theo freeze. “What? You didn’t think I’d find out? Once a cheater, always a cheater, Nott.”

“So why’d you date me, huh?”

“You aren’t even going to defend yourself? I thought you were different because you were my friend. I thought you finally grew up but I don’t think you have. My problem is paranoia, yours is cheating. And don’t get me fucking started on the drinking and smoking.”

Theo clenched his jaw. “You wanna play that game, prissy princess? Okay. You have more than one problem. In fact, you have too many to count. You’re fucked in the head, narcissistic, you can’t fucking eat properly, and you think everybody likes you when in reality, we’re all waiting for your downfall. You aren’t as popular as you think. And the damn studying. You study so much that you get sick! Physically and mentally sick! You’re just setting yourself up for failure!”

“I warned you.” Y/N whispered, harshly poking Theo’s chest. “I warned you about me! I warned you about the mental issues, the eating disorders, the problems that will start showing! And like everybody else, you said “it’s fine, I’ll be able to handle it”. Then like everybody else, you want to back away the moment I show negative signs! Do you think I like being like this? Depressed, anxious, paranoid, starving, and barely able to eat?! Do you think I fucking like going to therapy?!”

“You may as well go to more sessions because you aren’t getting any better.”

“You’re an ass, Nott.”

“And you’re a bitch.”

“Did we resolve the issue like you wanted? Because if so, I’d like to return to my dorm so I can watch a movie with a love interest who isn’t a complete jerk and only thinks with his dick.” As always, Y/N was the first to storm off.

“You love my dick!” Theo shouted after her.

“Fuck you!” She pointed the middle finger at him without turning out.

Theo shoved his hands into his deep pockets, clicking his tongue. “Fuck.” He ran a hand through his hair, hoping it would fix his pounding headache. “I need a cigarette.”

Theo didn’t attend his classes the next day. And, by the looks of it and the remarks from Pansy, neither did Y/N. He stumbled across her in the astronomy tower, smoking one of her reserved cigarettes.

“You beat me to my spot.” Theo grunted, cautiously taking a seat beside Y/N. She didn’t shove him away. She only slowly blinked and nodded.

“You should go to potions.” She muttered, smoke seeping past her teeth.

They were both numb from their previous argument, too tired to fight again. Theo had stayed up all night, replaying Y/N’s words in his head and scolding himself. Y/N wasn’t any better. Pansy slipped her some vodka from the party and the events that followed after were hazed history.

“How’s Mel?” Y/N couldn’t stop herself from being snarky. She heard Theo scoff.

“Fuck, you can’t stop bringing her up for even five minutes?”

There were no apologies in their relationship. Perhaps they learn it from their parents who, every time they’d argue, would gift them with lavish gifts instead of saying sorry.

“Why should I? You can’t stop calling me a slut.”

“It was one time.”

An awkward silence settled between the pair before Theo drew in a heavy breath.

“I love you…” He muttered. Y/N thickly swallowed, blowing out another mouthful of smoke.

“If you loved me, we wouldn’t be doing this. We wouldn’t be going back and forth, continuously fighting and trying to one up each other. We wouldn’t be trying so hard to make this work when we know it’s going to fail.”

A pit settled in Theo’s stomach. “Are you… breaking up with me?” The sadness in Y/N’s eyes made it apparent.

“Face it, Theo, we aren’t a good match. The only other reason we got this far is because of our parents. Our parents wanted us to never friends, our parents wanted us to date, our parents want us to get married. What about what we want? What happens if we do get married? It’ll crash and burn. We don’t work. No matter how hard we try, we will never work.”

“But… I love you.”

Y/N shook her head, “That’s not enough this time.”

The sudden realisation that Theo was losing Y/N caused him to cup her face, pressing his forehead against his.

“There’s a difference between loving the idea of someone and actually loving them.” Y/N mumbled, “Us? We love the idea of each other. We are constantly stuck on the “what ifs” of our relationship? The possibilities. We are so obsessed with this relationship because we created a different version of each other in our heads when in reality, those version of us will never be true.”

Theo rested his head on Y/N’s shoulder. He knew she was only telling the truth but it still hurt. Maybe Y/N was the right person for him or maybe she wasn’t; all he knew was that they met at the wrong time.

“I love you too, Theo, but we have a problem even saying those simple words.”

Their breakup was inevitable once the arguments started. It was only a matter of time before the fighting became too frequent to ignore.

“So… this is it?” Theo muttered. “We’re finally breaking up?”

“We had a good run, Theo.” Y/N uttered, fiddling with her cigarette. She handed it to Theo, slightly smiling. “See you around… I guess.”

“You’re just… walking away?” Theo himself was cold sometimes but he didn’t expect it from Y/N. It was finally clear why she had been placed in Slytherin instead of Ravenclaw; she was as heartless as her friends.

“If I don’t walk away, Nott, then I’ll keep holding on when I know I need to let go.”

Nott. Y/N always called him that when she was angry or teasing him. She didn’t look angry this time, only sad. They’d see each other at meals for sure but it would never be the same because they’d no longer be holding hands under the table.

“See you at dinner.” Y/N said, her voice a hushed mutter. She feared that if she spoke any louder, Theo would hear her voice break and notice her glassy eyes.

“Yeah… see you.” Theo watched as Y/N walked off with no intention of chasing after her. He wanted to and it took all his power to fight the urges to hold her back. This was for the best. Theo knew he’d have to let go of Y/N eventually so that both of them could pursue a healthier relationship in the far future.

He’d always be thinking of her, though, day and night. He knew it’d be the same for Y/N because despite everything that had happened between them, they were still each other’s first loves.

Theo glanced down at the cigarette he held in his hand. He could see Y/N’s lipstick stain imprinted on it, the last reminder of the kisses they shared before it all burned down.

HP TAG LIST (comment to be added) : @jetblackpayne @rafeslittleangel @opheliamalfoy236

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #hp prompts #hp fanfic #hp fandom #slytherin #hufflepuff #gryffindor #ravenclaw #hogwarts houses #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #harry potter fanfiction #draco malfoy #lorenzo berkshire #pansy parkinson #matteo riddle #blaise zabini #angst #harry potter

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sarahisslytherin · 10 months ago

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•❣•୨୧ 𝙙𝙧𝙪𝙣𝙠 𝙖𝙨 𝙙𝙧𝙪𝙣𝙠 ୨୧•❣•

felix catton x reader

summary: after seeing felix continuously surrounded by girls at his birthday party, you try your hardest not to get drunk on jealousy.

contains: jealousy, angst, fluff? oh, and like a million references to drinking.

a/n: this one's for all my fellow retroactive jealousy girlies out there! yey mental illness! wrote most of this at 2am so don't mind the elusive ending.

word count: 0.8k

the cicadas have been droning on for what feels like an eternity as you wait for felix beneath the minotaur statue at the maze’s heart. the inky sky above you stretches on beyond the garden walls, fractured by an array of white-hot stars. you cross your arms, tap your heel briskly against the earth, indicating your frustration to no one but yourself. all night you’d watched girl after girl fawn over felix, linking their arms into his own, batting their lashes with an evident goal. you couldn’t watch any longer, stomping away towards the maze, wishing for nothing more than to get so lost you would never be found. nevertheless, you have been.

“so this is where you’d disappeared to.” felix sighs, golden angel wings glimmering in the moonlight. “i’ve been looking for you all over.”

“surprised you even noticed i’d gone.” you scoff.

felix purses his lips. “i’m sensing some tension. what have i done now, hm?”

he cocks his head at that, a confused look about his features. he holds up an offering, a bottle of fine wine he’s clearly been helping himself to. you refuse it, try teasing him to forget your emotional turmoil, but it comes out all wrong. “wouldn’t you rather get drunk with your fan club?”

felix wastes no time towering above you, a gentle hand clasping your chin, a soft pair of lips pressing your own. “are you jealous, love?” he asks, and you can practically hear his smirk. “this has to be cutest thing. sure, maybe they were a little enthusiastic, but you know i only have eyes for you.”

“oh, hush!” you whine, swatting his hand away. “why don’t you go bother one of your girlfriends.” you know you’re being petty, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“i only have one.” he says, voice gravelly and stern. “and don’t you forget it.”

felix has grown to be well-versed in the art of comforting you. he knows you often feel insecure or not worth his time, a concept he will never truly grasp, in spite his best efforts. what he doesn’t know is the gut-wrenching feeling of imagining your lover leaving you for someone else. the knowledge that he loved someone else before you, who knows how many. you try to fight it, remind yourself this is a natural thing and in no way his fault.

“i’m sorry.” you click your tongue. “i don’t mean to be annoying or toxic.” your voice takes on an edge, a subtle quiver only a trained ear such as felix’s could detect.

“hey, none of that.” he playfully scolds, enveloping you in strong arms. “you’re the only girl for me, you know that. i’ll remind you as many times as you need.”

“why do i feel like this?” you asked. “you’re nothing but understanding and loyal.”

he gives you a warm smile, plants a kiss atop your head. “it’ll pass, love. trust me.” there’s a silence so heavy neither you knows how to break it.

“want a drink?” he asks, holding up the wine. felix smirks as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. perhaps a bit of humor will do the trick. “in a way you’re kind of an alcoholic, you know, only drunk on jealousy.”

you give him a roll of the eyes and a faux laugh. “at least i’m not an actual drunk.” you tease as you take the bottle from him.

“we all have our faults.” he jests. “you feel better?”

“sort of.” you sigh, but you realize it’s a lie as you start to spiral once again. you wonder if you’ll ever be able to harness those feelings of yours that lead you to this state. the jealousy that feeds you manufactured visions of felix`s past, one where he was happier with someone who wasn’t you. one where another person slept on your side of the bed, touched him the way you do. you know it isn’t real (not anymore), but the mind can be quite a convincing thing —

“love?” you hear felix say, and suddenly you’re on a staircase; your makeup is fresh, the night still young. “you look amazing!” he says proudly as he takes a drag of his cigarette. it’s the first he’s seen of you this evening, and he can’t stop himself from drinking in the sight before him. it was all in your head. now the party has just begun and your mind will not stray. the vicious cycle will not repeat itself. there will be no comforting, no drying of unnecessary tears tonight. you will focus on the man, the angel before you and steer clear of the maze of jealousy. yes, you will get drunk tonight, drunk on open-mouthed kisses, drunk on someone who wants you and only you.

#felix catton #felix catton x you #felix catton x reader #felix catton x y/n #saltburn #saltburn fanfiction

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sebsxphia · 24 days ago

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hey Seb!

i was wondering if you were taking requests, i was thinking Rhett and little reader, where little reader gets really sick from a bug at work, comes home all in little space, all groggy and cranky and Rhett takes care of them?

-Flames x

￫ authors notes: after not writing anything in so long, this definitely got me out of the block for a little bit 🥹 this was absolutely how i felt the other week when i was sick! i hope you enjoy <3

￫ warnings: age regression, feeling unwell and fluff, fluff, fluff.

rhett called you from your ranch as you were driving home. he knew the exact time that you would be on the road back home and he also had an inkling that you weren’t feeling well.

you woke up with a minor complaint about your head throbbing and your muscles aching. you put it down to the yard work you’d done the day before, on sunday.

your text messages to rhett throughout the day were slower than normal and barely contained any words at all.

“you okay, lil’ darlin’?”

rhett’s voice was a warm relief to your ears, as it thrummed through the trucks speakers.

“m’ sorry i haven’t properly messaged you today, baby. my eyes have been hurtin’. i could barely look at the screen.”

he chuckled softly on the other end of the phone and disregarded your need to apologize.

“i don’t think y’ feelin’ too well, are you? you said this mornin’ and y’ were heatin’ up in a pool of sweat in bed last night.”

you winced in the truck from annoyance at rhett’s undeniable fact that you were ill. it was only monday. you were adamant to avoid this and you were fighting the little itch in your head.

“nah, i think i was heatin’ up because of you, cowboy.”

rhett laughed again on the other end of the phone and you could hear him shaking his head.

“come home, let me take care of you. please, lil’ darlin’.”

you felt your bottom lip begin to wobble at his sweet name for you. you chewed at your bottom lip to avoid the murmur and didn’t say a word.

“baby? you okay?”

concern laced his voice.

“m’ just so tired, daddy.” you groaned in defeat.

the name for rhett and the tone in your voice made him switch up his posture, his voice, his own mindset, in an instant. he knew what you needed.

“i know, lil’ one. i know. how far away are you now, hm? y’ can’t be far. keep drivin’ lil’ one and daddy will be here when y’ get home. i promise, bambi.”

he stayed on the phone with you for the next ten minutes and guided you home safely. he was frighteningly aware that driving in your current headspace could pose as a danger. he himself was on edge, with his knee bouncing vigorously, until he heard his sweetheart pull into the drive way.

the gravel crunched under rhett’s heavy boots as he paced towards the passenger door of your truck. he saw your tender face wince in pain as he opened the door for you. your eyes were already watering and a look of desperation was etched over your features.

“oh, my little one. c’ere.” his strong and comforting arms reached out to haul you out of the truck and into his warm hold. he made a mental note to grab your belongings later when you were settled.

he gently helped you shed your clothes from the day and dress you in a larger t-shirt of his. when being this little, you would opt for one of your little rompers decorated in illustrations of cowboys, but your sticky and warm body couldn’t handle something so restrictive.

you continually let out small, cranky groans in discomfort. occasionally you babbled and grumbled about how much you ached, or how hard your head was throbbing. rhett consoled each of your protests with a reassuring kiss to your warm forehead and a gentle hum of words.

“i know, bambi. i know. daddy’s here now. gonna get y’ comfortable, get y’ somethin’ to eat and drink, ‘n daddy will cuddle ‘n smother you, all night.”

he clipped on your pacifier clip to his t-shirt and slipped it between your lips, before giving you a fleeting kiss to your nose. a small smile cracked at the corners of your lips, before returning to a frown of discomfort.

“hurt, dada.”

you pointed at your forehead and he pressed the back of his hand to your burning flesh.

“you’re burin’ up, bambi. like a lil’ firefly. y’ know what fireflies need?”

you frowned again and shook your head with a small pout.

“a lil’ bit of milk in y’ favourite bottle, light from the television ‘nd a cuddle from daddy! you’ll feel better in no time, bambi.”

rhett put on his most enthusiastic voice to try and convey that his little one would be okay and that they wouldn’t hurt for much longer. his heart ached to see you in so much pain.

rhett knew that the next two days would be the worst for you. but as always, he kept his promise until his little bambi was giggling and squealing constantly at his light tickles.

#💌you’ve got mail #i’m so sorry its not my best work #flames-f1 #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x little!reader #sebs agere #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #rhett abbott x y/n #rhett abbott fic #rhett abbott fanfiction #rhett abbott fluff

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stargazer-sims · 6 months ago

Text

TLC (2)

Mishka: I'm sorry.

Nikolai: For what? You haven't done anything wrong.

Mishka: I was trying so hard.

Nikolai: To do what?

Mishka: To... to be brave. To be strong for you and Sasha, and to take care of everything around here while you're working. I don't want to be clingy and needy and... and a whole mess that you have to deal with.

Nikolai: You know I don't see you that way.

Mishka: It's how I feel.

Nikolai: I love you, Mikhail. No matter what, I will never see you as a burden or a mess that I have to deal with. I need you to understand that, okay? When I promised in front of all our family and friends that I'd take care of you, I meant that. In sickness and in health, for better or for worse, remember?

Mishka: Yeah.

Nikolai: You don't need to hide stuff to try and prove how brave and strong you are. It doesn't matter if we're talking about your mental illness or just a summer cold, or anything. If you're not feeling good for whatever reason, I want to know so I can help you.

Mishka: Okay.

Nikolai: So, do you think you can tell me what you need?

Mishka: *tearful* I just... I need you to not be mad. Please.

Nikolai: Sweetheart, don't cry. I'm not mad. It's not your fault, and I'm not upset about it. Things like this happen.

Mishka: But it's happening at the worst time.

Nikolai: No, it isn't. It's not like I'm getting the kids ready for a competition or I need to travel or something. I'm here, and I'll take care of you. Everything'll be fine, I promise.

Mishka: What about the ice show? You have to get ready for that.

Nikolai: I think they can get along without me for one day so I can stay home with my husband. We'll have a nice quiet day, just the two of us, and if you're not feeling better after tomorrow, we'll figure out a new plan.

Mishka: Do we really have to send Sasha to stay with your parents?

Nikolai: We don't have to, but I think that'd be best, don't you? If you are coming down with a cold or the flu, we don't want him to catch it.

Mishka: He's never been away from us overnight before. What if he gets scared? What if... what if he thinks we're leaving him there forever and he'll never see us again?

Nikolai: Look at me for a second. Do you really believe Sasha is going to be worried about that, or is it something you'd worry about?

Mishka: *weeping* I'm sorry.

Nikolai: Shh... It's all right. I've got you.

Mishka: I don't want to leave him. I remember how scary that was for me, and how I'd scream when Mama left the house because I thought she was never coming back, like my biological mother did. I... I remember I couldn't stop crying, and I'd always feel sick after.

Nikolai: How far back can you remember that happening?

Mishka: I don't know. Forever. All I know is that I can't do that to Sasha. Please, Kolya? Can't we just keep him here with us? I know I won't be able to cuddle him and kiss him like I usually do, but I want him to know I'm still with him because... because... *crying*

Nikolai: *softly* Deep breaths, sweetheart.

Mishka: *gasping*

Nikolai: Slowly, Mishka. Breathe slowly. You can do it. Just like we practiced. We’re not going to panic. We’re going to…

Mishka: Find our inner calm.

Nikolai: Good. You’re doing good. Keep breathing like that.

Mishka: Don’t let go.

Nikolai: I won't. Not until you tell me you're ready.

Nikolai: Better?

Mishka: A little. You probably think I'm ridiculous.

Nikolai: No, I don't. I think you're scared, and knowing what I know about you, that seems like a pretty logical reaction. But, you know what else I know?

Mishka: What?

Nikolai: I know that despite what you think, you are brave and strong. You've been through a lot, and you've survived all of it, and you never let it take away the best parts of who you are. You should be proud of that.

Mishka: I'm trying, but it's hard.

Nikolai: You'll get there. Some day, you'll see yourself the way I see you. You'll trust yourself and you won't be as scared any more.

Mishka: What am I supposed to do until then?

Nikolai: Take baby steps. Make one little bit of progress at a time, just like you've been doing all along.

Mishka: But, how?

Nikolai: You know how. Push your boundaries a tiny bit at a time. I've seen you do that so many times already, so I know you can.

Mishka: This feels bigger than a baby step.

Nikolai: Maybe, but it's okay to take a bigger step once in a while. What do I always tell you?

Mishka: Taking risks is one of the ways we succeed?

Nikolai: Right. You know, you've taken some super huge steps this year. I don't think you even realize how much progress you've made.

Mishka: Do you think so?

Nikolai: This time last year, you wouldn't even leave the house without me. Now you're going grocery shopping by yourself, and going to your English class and volunteering and taking Sasha to his baby socialization group. You're trying new things and making friends. That's a lot.

Mishka: But I'm still scared. I still worry about... everything.

Nikolai: That's not stopping you from doing things now, though, is it?

Mishka: Not all the time, but... I don't know. I feel like it might stop me from being away from Sasha. I trust your parents, but it's still terrifying, wondering whether he'll understand that it's just for tonight and tomorrow.

Nikolai: Tell me something. When I leave the house, do you ever think I'm not coming back?

Mishka: No.

Nikolai: Why not?

Mishka: Because I know you love me and you'd never leave me, and I trust you.

Nikolai: Do you think Sasha knows you love him?

Mishka: Yes. I tell him every day.

Nikolai: And do you think he trusts you?

Mishka: *nodding*

Nikolai: Then, don't you think he knows you'd never leave him? He can be with his grandma and grandpa without you, just like you're here at home during the day without me, and he'll be waiting for you to come back just like you wait for me.

Mishka: Do you really think he'd be better off with your parents overnight?

Nikolai: I do, but I'll leave the decision up to you. I want you to have a chance to rest and to let me take care of you without either of us having to be concerned about how we're going to manage looking after the baby too, but if you'd rather keep him here, then I'm willing to do my best for both of you.

Mishka: If we let your mother take him, do you think she'd mind if I called her on FaceTime a few times? You know... just so I could see him.

Nikolai: You can ask her, but I'm sure she wouldn't mind that at all. If you're feeling up to it, you could even talk to him and sing the song you always sing to him when you put him down for his naps.

Mishka: She'd know everything she's supposed to do for him, right?

Nikolai: Well, if Natascha and I making it past our childhood is any indication, I'd say yes.

Mishka: All right. I think... I think I'm okay with him going there.

Nikolai: Okay, if you're sure.

Mishka: Call her before I change my mind, please, and can you get me a pencil and some paper so I can make her a list of things to do? Just in case.

Nikolai: I can do that. I'm going to get you a bottle of water and some fever reducers too. You're really hot, and not in a good way.

Mishka: Can you open a window?

Nikolai: It's raining, but I think that'll still be fine.

Mishka: Thanks.

Nikolai: Try to rest. I'm going to call my mother, and then I'll be right back.

#ts4 #sims 4 #brindleton bay #mishka vasiliev #nikolai pavlenko #stargazersims

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low-budget-korra · 2 months ago

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My comments on Arcane s01

-Vi is the sister I wish I had, fr. And as an lesbian older sister myself, it wasn't hard for me to connect with her from the very first episode.And now that I've watched the show, I don't understand how some people blame her for wherever she did to Jinx. Yeah, Jinx was just a kid but guess what, so was Vi. Jinx lost everything? So has Vi.

"but Violet abandoned Powder" No! She was protecting her lil sister. And she just saw her sister murder their entire family, how y'all think she feels? And she was about to save Powder before she was kidnapped.

And the fact that she manages to be so soft and good besides everything she went through... Vi is THE exception.

-Powder/Jinx was just a kid and all but damn. Vi forgives it all she has done, and in the one time Vi needs her forgiveness, she's so quick to hate her for good. Did she really realize what she had done?

Well, now I see why some people compared her to Azula. The difference is that Azula never had anything like Vander or Vi, Jinx had that and still went nuts. And also, Azula never goes for the murder, not really when it was expected (like when she was betrayed by Mai and Ty Lee). While Jinx would give 2 shits about kill people for funzies.

Yes, I feel sympathy for her, just as much as I feel anger towards her. She is a complex character that's for sure. And mentally ill

And my hate for her is mostly for the way she treats Vi honestly

Anyway, there's this joke on Brazilian fandom that Jinx is homophobic and that's why she can't stand Caitlyn and can't stand seeing her with Vi, and I think it's honestly hilarious

-CaitVi is a wonderful ship. Nothing against the explicit and big gestures such as kissing and all but damn, I missed the subtlety. The minor and meaningful touches, the gazes...it reminded me so much of Korrasami

-I loved Jayce and Caitlyn's relationship. When united, gays and lesbians are strong.

And I still don't get why people keep pretending Caitlyn actions on s2(as far as I saw in the trailers) aren't justified. Her mom was murdered by the people she tried to help, if it was me, I would also raise hell upon them. Anyway, let's talk about s1 Caitlyn and she is just so adorable.

She really wanted to make a difference, to help. She got out of her bubble and got a taste of the real world, and I bet it hurt. She just wanted to help and to do what's right but she paid the high price and has all the right to me mad at s2

And from the way she flinched at Jinx during the "dinner" scene, at bet the hours she spent under Jinx mercy weren't nice

-Im sorry, I didn't care much about the hextec plot. I know it's important and it's what makes the character on the road but their inner struggles and their subplots are far better to watch.

The only interesting part of them was Jayce cuz he is such an interesting character. For the way I've seen people talk about them, I thought he was gonna be the worst but no. You can see he struggles with some decisions. He ain't bad, he just does bad decisions

-Ekko is such a G man. If something happens to him in s2, I will riot. I like how he is the exact opposite of Jinx.

Ekko also lost everything and everyone, but instead of Jinx, he turned his pain into something good, into helping others the way Vander and Benzo helped him and the other kids.

I wasn't expecting him to be friends with Heimerdinger but I love that for him

-Lets talk about something serious, Jinx was right in her anger towards the upper class but blowing things up was not the answer. Vander knew and saw things how it was, making deals is better than having innocent blood in the streets.In fact, I saw a lot of simplified comments about the politics and social aspects of Arcane and now that I've watched the show I see how damn immature and naive a lot of them are.

Do not get me wrong, we should rebel every time we need and violence is a part of that. No revolution happened without it. But we should be wise about the battles we pick.

Let's look at Caitlyn for example, she is born rich and a good person. It's naive to expect someone born with everything and disconnected with the lower class problems and needs, to all of sudden be an ally to social causes. Born rich and privileged doesn't necessarily mean you are born a bad person, just as much as born poor doesn't automatically make you a good person.

Now, do you think Caitlyn deserved to lose her mother like that? Do you think she deserves what Jinx did to her just because she was from Piltover? That's when you lose potential allies and gain strong enemiesIt's not that simple. Social problems such as class differences, poverty, violence...it's not something that you can fix that easily. Oh man, I wish it was but it ain't.

With all that said, Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Ekko, Vander...none of them are evil and most of their actions (if not all of them) have a solid reason behind it, but this doesn't mean they were the best thing to do.

-Fuck you Silco. He is what happens when you put a "wherever it cost" mentality, cuz sometimes the cost is high. Too high. Also, he doesn't want justice or revenge, he wants power

-The animation and sound design is a masterpiece too. And the fight choreography? Damn shit was fire

#arcane #violet arcane #caitvi #caitlyn kiramman #jinx #vander #ekko #arcane jayce #arcane silco

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idle-daydreams · 10 months ago

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Uhm, can I request a story of Yandere Demon King Chuuya X Reader. The reader had mental health issues like she was always wanting to die. The illness got worse when he was kidnapped by Chuuya. She tried to kill herself multiple times but Chuuya managed to save her. Maybe now, she was restrained in bed and Chuuya said that she needed bed rest but she knows he was lying. Also she is a crybaby.

Tw: Self harm, kidnapping, mentions of suicide

Chuuya gazed at you, at your red-rimmed eyes as you tried to get comfortable while chained to the bed. The spell he’d cast was taking its toll on you, making you drowsy, but consciously or subconsciously, you were still fighting it.

Even in your miserable state, he still found you beautiful. Desperately, dangerously, so. It disgusted him just how much your vulnerability turned him on, and yet he couldn’t help himself. He wanted you, he wanted you in his arms, he wanted to hold you and hug you and tell it you it was all going to be all right.

“Everything is fine,” he said thickly. “Just rest for a little while.”

“Please let me go,” you said. “Please, I promise I won’t try to hurt myself again. I don’t know what you’ve done to me, but I don’t like it.”

“I know,” he lied. “I know you won’t hurt yourself. But you really need to rest.”

It was laughable, really. Utterly pathetic for a being as strong as him. You were a human, as delicate as a gossamer web, as fragile as spun glass, as soft and weak and inconsequential as the dew at dawn. It shouldn’t have been this hard to keep you safe and happy. And yet he couldn’t. He was a demon, one the strongest demons in Japan; he could fight armies without breaking a sweat, lay ruin to entire cities if he wanted to. But he didn’t know how to protect you from yourself, didn’t know how to fight the demons living in your head.

And looking at you, at the marks littering your arms and legs, it hurt.

You’d started crying, sobbing softly to yourself again. Chuuya sighed and moved towards you, only for you to flinch violently and try to pull away. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I’m sorry, [Y/N], for everything. But I promise you’re safe with me. You know who I am? I’m the Shutendoji. I promise you, I’ll keep you safe.”

You didn’t answer, only looked at him with those wide eyes glimmering with tears. Wet with tears, but with a spark of curiosity within.

“Listen to me, [Y/N],” he said. “You’re gonna have to live now, all right? I don’t care what kind of lifestyle you want, what you wanna do, where you wanna go. I’ll give it all to you, so long as you live. You can’t hurt yourself again, okay? I won’t have it.”

You blinked and gave a shaky nod. He could see the questions dancing at the tip of your tongue, confusion and even a smidgen of fear in your eyes. Good. It meant that you were still there, that there was still some spark in you.

It was going to take some time, but he was going to bring you back from the edge. He didn’t know what he would have to do, who he would have to hurt, but he was going to make you happy. Planting a gentle kiss to the top of your head, Chuuya laughed softly as you trembled.

“It’s okay,” he said. “Just don’t hurt yourself. I promise you, everything will be all right.”

#yandere chuuya #yandere bsd #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #bsd x reader #yandere nakahara chuuya #yandere bungou stray dogs #shutendoji!chuuya au

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catscidr · 1 year ago

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We need more of natural remedy!! 😭 expect with comfort and the reader starts to get better maybe?💕

im so glad you enjoyed it nonnie ueue i was talking about it to my friend and told him i felt like it was the opposite of my magnum opus bc i disliked how i wrote it so much LMAOO im happy it was an enjoyable read!! ur making me all mushy and uegfnshjns (༎ຶ⌑༎ຶ) ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: fluff, comfort, established relationship, proofread only a lil includes: gn!reader, childe wc: 1,1k -ˋˏ continuation to this mini fic! (but this can be read without reading part 1 prior)

Waking up is always a gamble when you’ve been sick for a while. Will today finally be the day that you can get out of bed, or will you be forced to rot in bed again, enduring whatever bullshit a higher power decided to throw in your face by making your body fight some miniscule bacteria in your system? Falling ill is something everyone can relate to, and you (unfortunately) weren’t an exception.

However, when opening your eyes, you find yourself able to think clearly (or as clearly as you can when waking up on a regular day). You rub your eyes clean of the crust, a sign that you’ve slept decently well, and look at your surroundings. Your legs were tangled in your bed sheets, your hair all messy, you even had some dried saliva on the corner of your mouth from when you had switched from breathing through your nose to becoming a mouth-breather during the night... but nothing too out of the ordinary.

Relieved that today seemed to be starting off relatively well, you untangle yourself from the duvet (you make a mental note to wash them later, they still vaguely smelled of perspiration from when you had sweat through them the day before) and hop out of bed. Too excited to finally have working muscles, you get up too fast and feel your knees buckle beneath your weight as you fall against the side of the bed with a quiet oof.

The noise startled a certain someone awake, quiet groaning making itself heard on the other side of the bed. Still half asleep, you don’t register that the noise wasn’t from your imagination, but was from your lover, Tartaglia. When it finally does click, you tiptoe your way around the bed and lean down to brush ginger locks away from his face and watch how his brows furrow as a result.

“Nnnh... too bright,” he grumbles quietly, burrowing his face in the blanket covering his body. You chuckle softly, kneeling on the floor and resting your chin on the bed to lessen the strain on your (still tired) legs from crouching.

“‘M sorry I woke you,” you say quietly, pulling the sheet away from his face, just enough to free his mouth from having his voice get muffled from the fabric. The redhead murmurs a quiet it’s fine and stretches his legs, dubious noise leaving his lips.

As he sat up straight and rubbed his eyes, Tartaglia sniffled and cracked one eye open to assess your state. Physically you looked fine, maybe a bit disheveled from having woken up barely five minutes ago, but overall, nothing that screamed “Hey I’m sick as balls and I can’t function”. A satisfied hum leaves him as he leans over you to press a gentle kiss on your forehead, your stomach fluttering at the sweet gesture.

“Nice to see you up and awake,” he says, voice rumbling from his vocal cords not having been used for a couple of hours. You nod in response, standing up from your kneeling position and dust your knees off, stretching your arms over your head.

“Mhm. I’m glad I finally have the energy to stand, at the very least.” Slipping your feet into your warm house slippers, you wait for him to get up as well, observing the way his shirt rode up to reveal strong, freckled skin beneath it. You felt the urge to pepper him in kisses as thanks for him taking care of you for the past couple of days but push it down as soon as you hear (and feel) your stomach rumbling. A sheepish smile creeps its way onto your face as Tartaglia slowly turns his head to look at you, one brow raised, and both eyes narrowed in your direction.

“You’re hungry,” he mumbles, almost accusatory. “Told you that you should’ve eaten something yesterday,” he adds in a way that almost makes him sound like he’s... sulking?

“I know, I’m sorry,” you huff, a bashful flush appearing on your cheeks. “I was just so tired,” you add with your cheeks puffed out, standing your ground. No way was he going to make you feel guilty for wanting to sleep of all things.

Unable to keep up his irritated façade, Tartaglia smiles at you. He stands up, putting on his slippers as well and ruffles your hair affectionately. A noise of surprise leaves you as you turn to face him, watching his figure retreat out of the bedroom door and into the hallway leading towards the kitchen.

“Hey, what was that for!” you huff, catching up to him easily, his lazy strides not making it all that hard to stay away from you. Tartaglia simple chuckles, the sound easing your nerves at least slightly.

“Mm, payback.” He responds with a lazy smile, opening the fridge and taking some fruits out. Some raspberries, blueberries and other various small fruits to snack on until he decides to make a better breakfast. He places them on the table- in which you eagerly sit at, tossing the berries in your mouth with a delighted hum.

“Thanks for helping me bathe last night,” you say softly, watching the redhead take some ingredients out of the fridge and the pantry, placing them on the counter. He takes a large pout from one of the cupboards before glancing back at you and flashing you a coy smile.

“Mm, ‘course. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t help my beloved in their time of need?” he says dramatically, turning his attention away from you and back to the pot in his hands. He fills it up with water, the sound echoing in the bowl, effectively muffling the sound of Tartaglia sniffling for a second time this morning.

You shrug, picking out a few raspberries out from their container and tossing them in your mouth. Silently, you bask in the joy of being able to properly breathe through your nose, lounging in your chair. You did feel better, however you still felt slightly weak from not doing anything for days on end. Just as you were about to speak up and mention how funny it was that Tartaglia hadn’t gotten sick even though he’d been sticking to your side like glue, he sneezes.

You jump in surprise, caught off guard by the sheer intensity of the sneeze. He wipes his nose, back still facing you- almost hoping you didn’t hear it. But how could you possibly not have heard it when it was loud enough to wake up whatever wildlife was hanging around your humble cabin?

Shoulders slumping, you heave out an exasperated groan, holding back a laugh from the pure absurdity of your situation. You get up and grab a box of tissues for him, handing it to him as you pat his back reassuringly. Of course he would get sick now of all times. You still can’t help but to tease him, though.

“...Did you have to sneeze in the pot?”

#୧ ‧₊˚orderup!#childe x reader #childe x you #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x you #childe x gn reader #tartaglia x gn reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you

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livindeadgirlgrav · 7 months ago

Note

Hi!! Would you be willing to write some hc’s on how Michael Myers would comfort an S/O through a friendship breakup? I just recently lost my two lifelong best friends and they keep reposting stuff about me. I need a fun way to cope lol

Aw I am so sorry! Losing friends is the worst especially when you guys are super close so I hope you are doing well and i'm sorry i'm late!! I hope this can bring a little smile. Also i'm super sorry they are reposting things about you please don't listen to them and stay strong if you ever need anything dont hesitate to reach out! <3

warning: Mention of violence, threats, gore, blood, a bit of nsfw, mature themes, murderous mentally ill cute boyfriend, you know..its Michael lol

Michael Myers handling his S/O lose a best friend..

Michael doesn't really understand what you are going through and why you are upset for he never really had friends even when he was younger he was a loner...I guess you could say his mommy was there but she wasn't any help..

He doesn't like hearing you cry or watching you be physically upset, he would watch you from afar before leaving to give you space...before coming back to see if you were still crying. He would come sit beside you and slowly look towards you. tilting his head he would stare into your tearful eyes. He would lift his mask up and offer a peck of a kiss on your temple before putting his mask back down.

Michael had came to understand that you handle your emotions differently than him, he found you strange but also found it strange that your beautiful eyes being filled with tears caused his blood to boil hotter than ever.

Once you explained the situation to him, he will definitely want to handle it his way....unless of course you didn't want him too but don't be surprised if he doesn't listen to you. You are his...and he has strong feelings for you that he doesn't know how to release besides not killing you. So don't be shocked if he comes back later with blood all over him and don't ask questions I doubt he'll give you an answer.

The situation also kinda surprises Michael. To Michael you don't need friends because you have him but he won't tell you that he considers you a friend or a companion he just considers you...

Michael would try to show you some affection. He would pat your head and let you hug him but he wont hug you back. When he comes back home he'll bring you something home, like a victims bear that possibly has a drop of blood on it. He would let you cuddle up to him in bed since he does sleep on his back he knows you aren't in his way. And he might and i say might lay his hand on your back for about 5 minutes and that's it.

Either way Michael would still be there for you and if you wanted anything all you would need to do is say it and he'll do it. After all he is a great listener and will give you his undivided attention.

Michael would also be a bit more gentle with you, letting you do things he typically wouldn't liking playing with his hair, hugging him, kissing him, etc. but sex might still be rough as usually with him he still has to be dominant over you..

Like I said before you are his...and he won't lay back a let people be mean towards you if you forbid him from hurting your old friends there's a fifty fifty chance he'll listen to you. But regardless killing them or not he would get his message across to them...coming home covered in blood he won't tell you that its someone else's

Wellll I hope you enjoyed! And I hope you are doing better!! Stay amazing and thank you for the request and for reading!!

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handspunyarns · 1 month ago

Text

You Were Marked: Day Thirty-Two.

pairing: din djarin x plus size / reverse age gap / fem!O/C

word count: 7.7K

chapter summary: Marathel is released from the hospital, Din changes his plans, and Marathel is surprised

warnings:  angst angst angst, mention of illness, mention of past abuse, mention of mental illness, English and Mando’a cursing

***Please feel free to comment, kvetch, or otherwise speak your mind about my work. *** 

You Were Marked: Masterlist

You Were Marked: <- Previous Chapter

Marathel, still sleeping, slowly realized that someone was gently straightening out her arm. She came awake, and opened her left eye to a dim room and Ya-Bito holding her arm, stroking it. Marathel grunted something unintelligible; her face was mostly pressed against Din’s ribcage.

“I’m sorry, Marathel,” whispered Ya-Bito. “I just need to get some blood.” Marathel blinked her consent and winced against the prick of a needle. Ya-Bito collected the blood she required and put a pink bandage over the needle mark. “Go back to sleep,” whispered Ya-Bito with her alarming smile as she quietly left the room.

Din sighed in his sleep, flexed his legs, and tightened his arms around her and Grogu. Marathel lay awake, listening to the strong heartbeat below her cheek. A heart attack? wondered Marathel. Yes, she remembered heartbreak when a bonded Dahl would die. When Rodanthe unbound herself from her, her heart hurt, yes, she hurt all over.

But then she remembered the men of the Hold, the times they would catch the rhyddolur or the nwymunwya. Oh, did they ever raise such a fuss! They demanded so much of the already ragged women: more delicate foods, more bathing, more pleasuring, more soiled bedding, more scrubbing around their necessaries! Any woman in the Hold was expected to continue her work no matter how poorly she felt; the few times Marathel got out of working due to her cycle were an aberration. And even then, she would drag herself off her pallet to service the Bishop, or whomever he wished to watch degrade her; it wasn’t worth the extra beating. Those were the times she didn’t actually mind getting anally raped; at least then she just had to lay there. Hence, the joke only whispered in the kitchen, full of derision: wai wchlas. Man flu.

I suppose some things are the same for men from other planets. It was a little mean of her, though, teasing Din like that. She considered apologizing for her smart mouth, then decided against it. She did enjoy getting to use her snarky words — when she knew it didn’t mean a smack in the face. And Din once told me he loved me best when I said things like that.

But no more. Never again. They were untethered, and he wouldn’t say such sweet things to her anymore. Oh, he’d comfort her, dry her tears, feel pity for her, like he’d feel for any stranger, as he’d told her.

Din snuffled, then his breathing became even again. Marathel craned her neck to look up; the other times she’d slept in his arms her head was nestled between his shoulder and neck. This time she’d slipped lower to rest against his rib cage, and she felt a metal pocket closure pressing into her cheek. Looking up, in the dim light of the room, she could see … his chin?

Din’s helmet had caught on the pillow, and it had lifted the bottom edge just enough that part of his chin and jawline was exposed. How much of him have I seen? His hands, his forearms, quite nearly his entire torso, the top of his head, his … manhood, and now, this part of him that she’d only ever felt before. His soft skin, his strong jaw, and some patchy whiskers that had some silver threaded through.

Marathel tentatively reached out with a fingertip and just brushed a bit of beard on his chin, barely feeling the whiskers on her calloused finger, remembering running her fingers through his hair, and how he moaned against her lips as he kissed her. That was the only time she was able to touch his hair, and she desperately hoped she would remember how it felt, for this was more than likely be the last time she would be so intimate with Din.

And I only have this moment because of his pity for me. But … I’ll accept it, and let it carry me back to Tatooine. Then, I can focus on my future. And there, I’ll have friends that will keep me company while I figure out my life without the Bounty Hunter. I think I can bear that, so long as I have friends and I can see Grogu. Please, Frith, don’t let the Bounty Hunter take Grogu away from me.

Thinking of Grogu and the people she had left behind on Tatooine — especially Cobb’s easy smile and sparkling eyes — she fell asleep again.

It was a few hours later that Din felt someone jostling his shoulder. He turned his head to see Ya-Bito smiling at him. “Wake up, Mando. I’ve brought Marathel’s breakfast, Also, the doctor will be coming through in about thirty minutes, and she’s not big on patients sharing a bed.” Din grunted in affirmation, and Ya-Bito left, turning the lights up a little brighter on her way out.

Din was only half-awake, so he took inventory: his arms were both asleep, his neck had a crick in it, and Grogu was resting right on his bladder, which had hit critical mass. He looked down at Marathel. She still slept. He traced a glove tip along one of the spiral coils wrapped around her fingers. This is day thirty-two, Marathel. This is one of the few times you didn’t escape from me while we were sleeping. This is probably the last time I’ll get to hold you like this, and I’m so confused about how I’m supposed to feel about you. He cared about her, that much was obvious. He only wanted her to be happy and safe. He hoped she wouldn’t … didn’t hate him for his fluctuating emotions for her. He didn’t understand romantic love at the best of times, but whatever forces were at work between the two of them were way outside his comfort zone. If only …

But her breakfast was getting cold, and he really needed the vac tube. He squeezed her shoulder. “Marathel? Marathel, wake up.” Her head popped up, her eyes still squeezed shut. “Feeling okay?”

Marathel worked one eye open. “I feel horrible.” Din tilted his helmet, noticing her puffy, red-rimmed eyes and the red lines on her pale cheek from the pocket seams and zipper tab where she’d pressed her face to his chest. “My eyes ache.”

Unsure of what to say, Din said, “Ya-Bito brought your breakfast. And I need to get up.” Marathel nodded and sat up — thankfully without needing to push down on his full bladder to boost herself. She plucked the dozing Grogu off Din and nuzzled the boy’s ear as Din rolled off the bed with a groan and shambled to the vac tube. After relieving himself, he took off his helmet and took a look in the mirror at his own puffy, red eyes. Marathel’s story last night had affected him terribly. Even having something as simple as a doll was fraught with pain. Maybe she should stay here, stay in the psych ward, he thought.

But he couldn’t leave her behind again. He even regretted leaving her to go to Nevarro to get his helmet repaired; if he’d only been with her when her first treatment failed, if perhaps he’d gone with her to the Reconstructionists, if he’d been with her when she’d learned that her whole way of life was an abhorrent aberration …

And if frogs had wings, they wouldn’t bump their ass a-hoppin’, kid. Regrets and ifs and maybes distract you from what you need to do. If you make a bad decision, you do your best to bounce off your ass and keep hopping.

After hearing his buir’s words in his head, Din replaced his helmet with a sigh and left the fresher room to wash his hands at the sink. He soaked a washcloth in cold water for Marathel, turning around just in time to see her struggling with Grogu, who was actively trying to steal all the food from her plate. “Grogu, please, I know you’re hungry …”

“Listen to your Mama, kid, that is her breakfast, not yours.” He snagged Grogu from her and replaced the sausage links — floating in the air with the Force — on her plate. He handed her the washcloth. She muttered her thanks and held it against her eyes. Din sat down in the chair and said, “Your doctor will be coming in soon. They will probably talk to you about what you might want to do.”

“Do?”

“Whether you want to be released, or whether you might want to go in for psychiatric care.”

Marathel sighed and put the washcloth on her tray. “What do you think I should do?”

Din shifted in the chair, then said quietly, “I think that’s a decision you need to make.”

“Din … I don’t know enough to make that kind of decision. I’m lost out here. Right now, I only have you to help me. I know I’m a burden to you, but I need to know what you think I should do.”

Din shook his head and stammered, “Marathel … I ... my feelings for you ...”

Marathel put her hands to her forehead. “Urgh! Din, we need to talk about the important things! It doesn’t matter that you don’t love me anymore; that’s not the point right now! Please, tell me if going into this psych ward is a good idea, because I don’t know any different!”

“Marathel …”

“I’m a child, Din, just like Cobb says, I’m a full-grown child who dropped out of the sky! I need guidance if I’m going to survive out here! If I can’t rely on you for help, the one person, right here, right now, who understands what I’ve been through, then what am I supposed to do?”

Din spread his hands, saying, “I’m not the best person to ask, Marathel! Mandalorians don’t do psychiatry! I speak to my Confessor, the Armorer, and I follow her advice. I think about what my buir would say or do, and I follow the teachings of the Manda’lor. That’s it. Whatever is the most practical thing, that’s what I do.”

“Then what is the practical thing for me to do, Bounty Hunter?”

Marathel’s dropping back to calling him Bounty Hunter was not lost on Din. “Leaving you here would be inadvisable, in my opinion. I wouldn’t know when I could come back to get you. There are things I must do for my Creed, and soon, but I cannot leave you here, not knowing if you’re safe and all right. If you get released while I’m gone, and I can’t come to get you, what will you do? And, and ... my only perception of a psych ward, any psych ward, is that it’s not a good place. Ya-Bito has told you the same thing,” said Din. He paused, then leaned forward to put his hand near hers. “Regardless of whatever … has ended between us, I can’t … I don’t want you to stay here.” He leaned back in his chair, looking down to his knees. “But, your doctor is coming soon to talk to you, and you should consult their opinion, as well.”

Marathel took in his words, nodded, and said, “Thank you. Thank you. That was what I needed.” She took a breath, turned back to her tray, and frowned. “Grogu!”

Her tone made Din turn to Grogu, who had her toast in his mouth and part of a sausage in one hand. “Dank ferrik, Grogu, you opportunistic little … fink. I’m so sorry, Marathel. I … well, you were right. I haven’t taught him any manners. Did he leave you anything?”

“A runny egg and some fruit. I hate runny eggs.” Marathel sighed and pushed her tray away. “Perhaps someday you can stay in one place long enough to raise him right. How in Frith did your buir manage to raise you halfway decently?”

“I drove him into an early grave because I was a right shit,” said Din as he wiped Grogu’s mouth. “Perhaps Grogu is his way of getting back at me.” Marathel laughed at that, a real laugh that crinkled the skin around her eyes and colored her full cheeks. The only things marring her beauty were her facial wound, and her missing teeth. But she could get those fixed, and …

There was a knock on the door, and a voice came through the intercom: “Marathel? It’s Ya-Bito with Doctors Dine and Zohl. May we come in?”

Din quickly deposited a complaining Grogu in his bag with the stern command to be quiet. Marathel called out, “Come in, please.”

The nurse and doctors came in, and Din stood, saying, “I’ll step out …”

Ya-Bito asked, “Marathel? Did you want Mando here for this discussion? We’re going to talk about your release from this ward today, and what you may want to do next.”

Marathel looked up into Din’s visor, and he wondered if she’d say yes, stay or no, leave. Marathel swallowed, then said, “Please excuse us, Bounty Hunter.” Din nodded and left, disappointed. As he walked the halls towards the elevator, he considered her earlier words: it doesn’t matter that you don’t love me anymore.

It doesn’t matter, Bounty Hunter.

Bounty Hunter.

“Haar’chak,” muttered Din. Blinking rapidly a few times, he decided two things needed to be done: one, find some food for both himself and the kid. Two, he needed to talk to the harbormaster where the Crest was docked, because, with or without Marathel, he was apparently leaving this planet today.

Marathel, meanwhile, listened to Doctor Dine talk about her physical condition. Her D&C had been successful. Samples of tissue had been tested and none had been malignant — a new word for her that required quite a bit of explanation. Dine explained endometriosis more in depth as well, showing Marathel scans of her reproductive organs, commenting on their abnormalities. She recommended that Marathel see a specialist for potential hormone therapy or further surgery. Her wounds seemed to be healing well and she had no signs of infection. “There’s no reason why you can’t be released from this ward, Marathel. You seem well, and you’re strong and healthy overall. But there is the matter of your emotional and mental state.”

It was at this point that Doctor Zohl introduced herself as a psychiatrist that specialized in trauma. “Marathel, you are possibly the most traumatized person I have ever met, as well as the strongest. I have nothing but admiration for you. I only want you to have the most fulfilling life; that is the goal of everyone here.”

“I believe you,” said Marathel quietly.

“The thing is, Marathel, we are struggling with what would be the best course of action for you. In listening to you tell your story yesterday, I got the distinct feeling that four walls and a closed door cause you a great deal of anxiety. Therefore, we believe inpatient treatment — where you would stay here or go to another facility — would not be beneficial at this time. I would be concerned that you’d feel trapped, which would add to your anxiety, and do you more harm than good.

“And then, knowing that you come from a people who have been isolated for two millennia — coupled with the fact that you do not respond to bacta — we also can’t recommend that you go on medications that may help your mental state. We just don’t know how you may respond to antidepressants or anti-anxiety meds, because we don’t fully understand your full physiological being. Along with the fact that you have chronic brain damage, both due to physical trauma and hypoxia, drugs are just not a good idea at this time.”

Marathel began to feel despair. Can I not get better? Is there nothing that can help me?

Doctor Zohl sensed Marathel’s distress, and leaned forward to put her hand on Marathel’s knee. “Talk to me, Marathel.” Marathel closed her eyes and shook her head. “Marathel? This is what we think will work for you. You need to talk. The way you handled yourself yesterday was nothing short of amazing. However, we think you’re compartmentalizing and disassociating …” — Marathel opened her eyes, confused — “… but that’s a bunch of big words you don’t need to worry about at this point.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” asked Marathel in a small voice.

“We — and when I say ‘we’, I’m talking about myself and two other doctors — we just want to talk to you each day for a while. As we go along, as you become more comfortable, that may change.”

“How would that happen, if I’m going to leave here?”

Doctor Zohl held up a holopad. “Do you know what this is?”

Marathel nodded. “A holopad. I have one. Not here ... I think it’s on the Bounty Hunter’s ship. A friend gave it to me. I don’t know how to use it, because I ... can’t read.” These last two words were spoken in a shameful whisper, but when she stole a glance at the doctors, they seem unconcerned about her failing.

“Perhaps the Bounty Hunter can teach you how to use the holopad? We can give you a printout of the instructions of how to set up our visits together, and he can help you, yes?”

“Perhaps,” said Marathel with a shrug.

“You don’t believe he would help you? He seems to be very fond of you. He’s been here practically non-stop since he first brought you here.” Marathel was holding Grogu’s new Fawg on her lap, and she kept stroking the toy’s head. “And his little boy, of course, is obviously very precious to you.”

“Not right now; the brat stole most of my breakfast.”

The medics all laughed, then Doctor Zohl said, “We were surprised that you kept the child out of your chat with the New Republic officers. Both of you did. Is there a reason for that?”

“Yes.”

"But you’re not going to explain it?”

“No.”

Doctor Dine smiled and said, “I like your fierce loyalty. The Mandalorian is just as loyal to you. Yet you two both insist that you’re not in a relationship.”

“We’re not,” said Marathel with great sadness.

Doctor Zohl said, “Let’s leave that for now. Do you know what the Mandalorian intends to do once you leave here? Does he plan to take you somewhere?”

“I believe he will be taking me back to the planet where he first got me medical care. After I was made a Belwhyn. The people there, they were good to me. They are friends. I feel safe there.”

“Then what will happen, do you think?”

“I don’t know. I can’t think that far ahead.”

Doctor Zohl nodded. “Are you willing to chat with us over holo? We really think it would be beneficial to you. Friends are good, having supportive people is good. But you must understand that having a medical professional support system for your mental health is advantageous, and frankly, we’re good at it. I mean, you wouldn’t eat food that was made by someone who wasn’t good at cooking, right?”

Marathel smiled a tiny smile. “Well, no. I wouldn’t. For example, I’m not going to eat that runny egg,” she said, pointing to her plate.

Ya-Bito stood up and took a look. “Eewww. You’re right. I’d be happy to bring you something else.”

Marathel nodded, and Ya-Bito left to find another tray. The doctors discussed things with her for a little longer, and Marathel began at feel more at ease. She now had a plan, and plans were good; she couldn’t knit a sweater for Grogu without a plan, could she? So many things for her were new and unknown and frightening, but she had hope that these doctors could help her sick mind.

The doctors left to work on her release, and Ya-Bito brought a new breakfast for Marathel. The nurse wanted to see what Din had picked out for her at Mise-Tusil, so Marathel allowed Ya-Bito to bring out all the purchases and hold them up. “He didn’t do a half-bad job, your Mandalorian,” mused Ya-Bito as she carefully cut off all the tags. Not my Mandalorian, thought Marathel. The nurse continued, “Normally, I would advise you to wash everything – especially the underwear – before wearing, but you don’t seem to have much of a choice.” Ya-Bito folded everything again, and told Marathel she would find a packet of adhesive pads to wear instead of the disposable underwear.

After she left, Marathel finished her breakfast – with a properly cooked egg this time – and carefully stroked the neckline of one of the tops Din had bought. Such an odd thing, a man buying her clothing. And undergarments, for Frith’s sake. The Mandalorian, choosing undergarments for her! Surely these things were worth a lot of that money that Marathel was still so unsure about. She reminded herself that he had exchanged the coins for useable money; that’s what Fennec had told her. She then wondered what in Frith she was going to do for money! She was going to need the stuff in order to survive, wasn’t she? She couldn’t live off the generosity of the Bounty Hunter, or even Fennec and Boba, for that matter! She began to panic, fearing that the voices of the Dahls would fill her mind with horrible thoughts — she could just hear their quiet chattering — but instead, the practical-sensible voice came back to her, calming her.

One thing at a time, old girl. Tatooine is a big planet, and you have skills! You can cook, you can clean. You can care for children. You can grow a garden. You know how to sew, how to spin, how to weave. You can work somewhere like the palace! You can make things to sell! Silnima came from a bad place, and look at her now!

The possibilities suddenly filled her with excitement, a completely new feeling to her. Marathel felt overwhelmed again, but for the first time, with how good her life could be that she began to cry. Just then, Ya-Bito returned with Siewan in tow. Seeing her in tears, Siewan said, “Oh, kriffing hell, what is it, honey? Who made you cry? Whose ass do we have to kick?”

“I’m happy, I’m happy,” insisted Marathel.

“If you say so! The docs are still working on your release, but you can get dressed and ready to leave. If that is your plan. Is it?”

Marathel nodded. “I am … leaving, yes.”

“With Mando?”

“With Mando.”

“Good,” said Ya-Bito. “Whatever you think is or isn’t going on between you two, it’s obvious he cares about your welfare. And I also think that you are as important to him as he is to you. You two just haven’t … found each other at the same place yet.”

Marathel frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Of course not. But it is both our fervent hope that you will,” said Siewan. “Now, let’s get you dressed. Not sure where your Mandalorian is ...”

“Not my Mandalorian ...” said Marathel, rolling her eyes.

“Sure, honey, and maybe Kowakian monkey-lizards are flying out of my ass,” scoffed Siewan, making Ya-Bito laugh. “Let’s get you ready to blow this joint so you and Mando and the little greenie can fly off into the great black yonder.”

Din, meanwhile, was pissed off. He’d gone back to the Crest to find out that Teva’s goons had damaged his ship when removing the tracker, shorting out a section of his electrical system. Not only that, he was now blocked in by a fleet of cordovas for some high-rolling sonofabitch and his entourage, and he couldn’t leave until fucking tomorrow. The harbormaster merely shrugged and handed Din a credit for a room at the connecting hotel. Teva was at least apologetic, but couldn’t do anything beyond assuring Din that the damage would be repaired before tomorrow morning.

Grumbling, Din went to the hotel and presented his credit chit to the front desk, who said that a room wouldn’t be ready until mid-afternoon. Also, the chit was only good for a mid-sized room with one double bed. Din offered to put up the difference for a second room, a suite, anything, but the hotel was completely booked. Of fucking course, thought Din. One bed. My life has become a ridiculous rom-com holo! Dammit, Frith, get better writers!

He started the trek back to the medical center, almost getting there before he remembered that he had also meant to grab some food for himself and Grogu. He could get by without food, but the kid was a different story. He ducked into a dumpling house, and the proprietor — apparently familiar with Mandalorians — generously set up a quick private curtained booth for Din to eat in. In thanks, Din bought a few sweet dough dumplings for Marathel to try. He figured he owed her an apology for allowing Grogu to abscond with her breakfast, and possibly another apology for waffling when she had asked him directly for advice. While he was sitting there, watching Grogu work his way through a dumpling almost as large as he, his comm.link beeped. “What?”

“It’s Karga. I need an answer, Mando.”

Din sighed. “Go ahead.”

“Well, congratulations!”

“In her name only.”

“Her name?”

“It’s her money, it’ll be in her name.”

“When did it become her money?”

“Never you mind. Just shoot me the papers; I’ll get her to sign them.”

There was a long pause at the other end before Karga said, “I set aside that property for you.”

“Well, now it’s going to be hers.”

Another long pause. “I’ll hang on to the papers until you get here. See you soon.”

After Karga clicked off, Din sighed deeply and stared at the wall, mourning the death of The Plan. The Plan was no more. The Plan was to get a house for all three of them. Two bedrooms at least, one for himself and Grogu, one for her, her own room but in a house together, where she could adapt to a different and new life, hoping that in time, maybe, the arrangement could change. Perhaps it could have even changed to him moving into Marathel’s room, living as a couple, as a family of a father and mother and child, somehow adding more children, despite reality dictating that no natural children would ever come to them … but that was all only wishful thinking. Even after Marathel had announced she wanted to return to Unmanarall, he’d hoped somehow that he could change her mind, that she’d have some sort of epiphany that she was not a monster that needed to be exiled. And now she was separating herself from him even more, going back to calling him Bounty Hunter and making decisions for herself that didn’t involve him.

Perhaps he didn't feel love anymore, but he could feel regret.

Din put his helmet back on, thanked the proprietor, and left, with Grogu in his bag, still munching on the giant dumpling. He made his way back to Marathel’s ward, walked up to her door, and found it wide open.

She was gone.

The bed had been stripped.

His heart fell into his stomach. She left? She left? And didn’t even tell him what she had planned to do? Even just to say a kriffing goodbye? Feeling panicky, he went to the nurse’s desk, looking for Siewan, Ya-Bito, someone who could give him some answers. The young woman at the desk looked in the chart tracker and all she was able to tell him was that Marathel had been released, but nothing beyond that. He thanked her, wondering how he should go about finding Marathel. He took a few steps back, looking up and down the corridor, when Ya-Bito stepped out of another patient’s room. He hurried over to her, pleading, “Please, Ya-Bito, is Marathel ...”

Ya-Bito pointed behind her. “Goodness, Mando, she’s just down the hall, in the family room. We needed to prep her bed for a new patient.”

Din nodded his thanks, and then amused the hell out of Ya-Bito by jogging down the corridor to find Marathel, skidding to a halt in an open doorway. He peered into a large waiting room, where Marathel stood, looking confusedly at a holoprojector screen. She was wearing the russet top and dark pants he’d bought her the day before. Her hair was still braided, and she wore the pink fuzzy socks on her feet. She noticed him in the doorway, and turned towards him, asking, “Do they ... the people on the screen. Do they know we can see them?”

Din hadn’t heard her, for he was too distracted by the sight of her. The red top did put color in her cheeks, and stood out against her pale skin. The scooped neck showed off her upper chest while still being modest, with a decorative tie just under her breasts. The fabric was cut in such a way that it draped delicately over her curves, convex here, concave there, showing off her waist in a way he hadn’t quite ever seen before. The dark charcoal-colored pants also draped softly over her generous hips and her backside, and the sight made him want to drop to his knees before her and hug her tightly, just to feel her strong leg muscles rippling under the fabric of her pants. She was somehow ... more sexy, more tantalizing, clothed and standing before him, than she had been naked and astride him. He belatedly realized she had asked him a question. To cover up his distraction, he lifted Grogu out of his bag, allowing him to run to the toy table in the room. “I’m sorry, what?”

“The people. On the holo screen. Why are they there? They were just talking to each other, and now ...” Marathel blushed, and Din turned to the screen. It was a rom-com holo of some sort – he wasn’t familiar with this story, but he recognized the actress. She and some Twi’lek actor were kissing the shab out of each other in a bed, draped as they were in what Din called the magic L-shaped sheet – it covered her up to her armpits while only covering him from the waist down, a typical bedlinen in stories like these, he’d noticed over the years.

“It’s a holo, Marathel.”

Marathel turned even more red. “But don’t they know that we can see ... I mean, they’re just ...”

“I’m not getting why this is bothering you.”

“They’re just ... showing everyone their private, intimate moments! What in Frith is wrong with them?”

Finally, it clicked for Din. There had been a holo screen in her room, but they’d never turned it on. Her only experience with a holopad was either talking to him or seeing the holo of his recording of the burlesque dancers. Marathel had no idea of what she was seeing, because she’d never seen a rom-com holo story before. She thinks that these characters are real people, really making love on a screen before whomever may be watching them! This tickled him even more than the time she’d been stuck in a tree, and he began to chuckle.

Marathel’s eyes flashed with fury. “What is so funny?” she hissed.

“Nothing,” said Din, quickly getting under control; poking fun at her shortcomings only annoyed her. “None of what you’re seeing is real life. These people on the screen — they are pretending to be other people. They are acting out a story.”

“Why?”

“‘Why?’” parroted Din. Well, that’s a good question. “To entertain people.”

“So they are playing … guesedd?”

“What does that mean?”

“As children, I would play dwycwingen and Tymfy would play gochgoch and dwycwingen and gochgoch would talk about what they did outside the Hold walls. Running in the woods, getting chased by Dahls, sitting in the flowers. Doing what we — Marathel and Tymfy — couldn’t.”

Din felt a new pang of sadness for her, but also a happy feeling, knowing that she had a friend, and also happy knowing that she had at least some moments of a normal childhood, with games and friends and the love of a parent-figure. He had buir and she had Olba. He wished that she could have had buir as well, to teach her what a father should be. Finally, he said, “That is why people watch these holos. To see, hear, experience someone else’s life. Some holos are funny, some are dramatic, or sad. Some are scary. Some are romantic.”

“Romantic?”

“About people falling in love.”

“These people are not … loving each other right now?”

“No. I can tell you that the woman on the screen is married to a Rebel Admiral. I’ve seen her in other stories. The guy, I have no idea who he is.”

Marathel frowned. “So, she’s the dwycwingen, and he’s the gochgoch … but you have seen her be a dwycwingen with a different gochgoch in a different holo?” Din sketched a complicated flowchart in his head, parsing her sentence, but finally nodded. Marathel then said, “Now I feel … sad. They can kiss and … but it means nothing.”

“It’s meaningful to the people like to watch these things,” said Din, shrugging.

Marathel sighed and sat down in a padded chair. “So much confuses me.”

Din chuckled and said, “It amuses me sometimes, just how little you know about the galaxy. How much is new to you, when it’s so commonplace to me.”

“Cobb said that, too. He said … that my childlike ways warmed his cold, curmudgeon heart.”

“Did he?”

“Oh yes. Still not sure what curmudgeon means …” mused Marathel with a smile.

Din bristled. “Just how much did Cobb say to you?”

“I don’t understand.”

“He paid too much attention to you, Marathel.” Too handsy, too touchy-feely.

“You are …” Marathel struggled to think of the Newtalk word. “Bifennddus’sai?”

“Huh?”

“You are angry at the attention he gave me,” snapped Marathel.

Din dropped his head and muttered, “Jealous. The word is jealous.”

And just like that, Marathel had had enough of his snippiness whenever she mentioned Cobb. “Are you? Are you jell-uhs? Angry at me because Cobb was being a friend to me when I needed one?” Din looked back up. “I fell out of bed and hurt my knee; he helped me get up from the floor. He held my hand while I was undergoing those first injections, and I was frightened. He carried me, me, fat as I am, speeding back to the palace, when my treatment failed and I was losing all my blood again. He pulled me down off that windowsill and held me while I cried, after you left me there. You left me sitting on that windowsill. Yes, I said cruel things to you, I wanted the truth to drive you away, but I still had that childish hope that it wouldn’t matter to you. Because you had told me that you loved me and nothing else mattered. But of course it mattered. You didn’t love me. You never did.”

“Marathel …” began Din.

“It was all the Dahls’ doing.”

“I know. I know, Marathel.”

Marathel shook her head. “No, you don’t! Rodanthe tethered us … tied us together in a bond … because she wanted to someone to love me.”

“She … she what?”

“The Bishop told me that the Dahls kept all the men of the Hold away from me, killing anyone male who came near. But you … you weren’t from the Hold, and the Dahls knew that. They knew you’d be different. They let you come near me, to see if I would accept you, and when I told them to leave you alone … when you pulled a boomer on them …”

“… Blaster …” mumbled Din.

“The Dahls took advantage of my bond with them and my curiosity of you and Grogu. I could hear their noises and emotions but when they were all together in the throes of mating, they could make me do things. They made me grab at you. Pull you to me. Make you take me. And then I bit you …”

“Marathel, it’s …”

“But you didn’t consent to that. None of it!”

“Neither did you!”

Marathel ignored him. “Rodanthe … she loved me, but she wanted me to have a mate. She had her mate. Dahls keep their mates, the ones they like best. She had her kits, including me. And her other kits got their mates, she had her mate, so why not me, I suppose? So, when you and Grogu arrived, she thought you would be a good mate for me. I bit you, I marked you as mine, she tethered us together. Easy.”

“Easy?”

“Easy because I already loved you. Or I thought I did. Or she thought I did.” Marathel angrily wiped away a tear.

“She told me to love you.”

Marathel looked up in surprise. “She did what?”

“She came to me, the same night, after we … the second night of mating. She … looked at me. Stared at me, hypnotized me, smelt my breath, and then told me to love you and disappeared.”

Marathel closed her eyes, and more tears spilled over. “I wanted so much to be loved by you. I wanted more kindness. I wanted more affection. I’d never known kindness, or affection, so, of course, I wanted more.” She opened her eyes and Din was holding out a cloth for her to dry her tears, and she laughed. After blowing her nose, she said, “I also knew that it was such a struggle for you, to remain within your creed while … but it doesn’t matter anymore, does it?

“I told Rodanthe to release you. I told her that I could not keep a hold on you that you were not aware of. I had been a slave my whole life, first to the Bishop, then to the Dahls. I was not, not ever, going to keep you bound to me when it wasn’t v from your own heart. So, she released you. And then, it was as if my blood had turned to cold hard water; my heart stopped beating. I was utterly, truly, alone. And you felt the same way, just for a moment?”

Din nodded. “Yes. And I was so frightened I’d forget you again. But …”

“You remembered me, but you didn’t ‘forget’ you loved me. You cannot forget a feeling you never had to begin with.”

Din felt his heart hurt again and he dropped to one knee in front of her. “Ma’mwsh ha’laa…”

“It was all Rodanthe’s doing. You are concerned about me, you do not wish me ill, you feel you have a responsibility to me, but you do not love me.” Marathel’s face flushed with embarrassment, having to explain all this to him.

Din carefully took her hand, and said quietly, “Marathel, I don’t understand at all what those Dahls did to me, to us … I know I should love you. But I can’t remember why, or even how. And I’m so, so, sorry.”

He deserves so much better than me. “If you can’t remember why or how, then … you shouldn’t, I don’t think.” She pulled her hand away from his, and tightly interlaced her fingers together.

“Marathel …”

More tears fell. “Can we go?”

“Go? Does that mean you’re leaving the hospital… coming with me?”

Marathel shifted uncomfortably. “Well, yes. Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“I … it was a concern of mine, yes,” said Din, mentally kicking himself for waffling again.

“Did you bring my shoes, at least?”

“Yes, I have your shoes.”

Ya-Bito and Siewan poked their heads around the doorframe. “We told her she couldn’t leave without her shoes,” said Siewan. “And not until you said goodbye to us, Mando.” Marathel and Din both turned to the nurses, who realized they’d interrupted something terribly important: Mando was on one knee before her, and Marathel was in tears. “Ooooh … shit. Um … okay, quick goodbye, then, and we’ll leave you alone,” said Siewan, grimacing.

Din stood, allowing the women to hug Marathel. They wished her well, and gave her release papers as well as contact information for the both of them. “Mando’s going to help you get your holopad set up, yes?”

Marathel colored. “I haven’t asked him yet ...”

“I’ll take care of it,” said Din.

“Good,” said Ya-Bito, and both of the nurses came up close to Din, making him take a half-step back. “And you’re going to take care of her, fella? Treat her right?”

Before Din could respond, Siewan said quietly, “Because we know what drugs to use.”

Ya-Bito nodded. “Drugs that won’t be found on an autopsy.”

“And we know where to stick the needle.”

“With no needle-tracks left behind.”

“No-one would ever know.”

Din took another half-step back, mumbling, “Yes, ma’am ...”

The nurse both laughed. “Oh, lighten up, Mando, we’re just kidding with you!” guffawed Siewan. Then she dropped her chin and said, “Or are we?” the nurses said their last goodbyes, and left.

Din felt properly chastised, and he went back to one knee to help Marathel put on her shoes, despite her protesting she was more than capable of doing it herself. He had trouble with the left one, and she bent down to help as he lifted his head, smacking her nose into Din’s helmet with a bonk. “I’m sorry, mesh’la,” said Din, not even realizing he had said mesh’la, and Marathel’s face colored as she realized that he was actually quite close to her and had automatically put his hand to her cheek. “Did I hurt you?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine ... let me just get up,” said Marathel, pushing herself to her feet. Grogu ran over to hug her ankle with a squeal. “I appear to have grown a Grogu again,” she said, then she bent over to pick up Grogu. It hurt her injured shoulder, and she groaned.

Din’s hand went to her shoulder. “Does your shoulder still hurt? Did you need a sling?”

“No, it’s mostly okay, so long as I don’t wave my arms about much. It’s okay. I’m all right.”

“Well, let me carry Grogu. He’s heavy.” Marathel reluctantly handed over Grogu once she’d peppered his fuzzy head with kisses. “Ready to go? Are you able to walk?”

“Yes, if I can just …” Marathel put her arm through his again, and Din felt a spark of pride, just having her on his arm. It was if he had just met her again, as if somehow … she was a completely different woman. He walked her through the door, to the elevators, down to the lockers, where she sat on a bench and chatted with Grogu while Din re-armed himself. They slowly walked over the footbridge, allowing Marathel to look up and around at all the flashing lights, buildings, and decorations of the casinos all around them. Once they’d gotten to the other side, Din noticed the women’s clothing shop where he’d met Meejil and The Great YellowHair TwatWaffle and noticed a sign saying, “CLOSED” on the door. He wondered briefly what the story was with that while he handed Marathel into one of the droid carts. Din crowded in next to her, programmed in their destination to Mise-Tusil, and the cart zipped off to its track.

“Aw,” pouted Marathel. “This one isn’t as fast.”

“You’ve ridden one?”

Marathel nodded. “With Fennec. We had …” the cart suddenly stopped; a pedestrian had stepped in the cart’s way. Marathel yelped and slid in the seat, and grabbed at Din.

Din threw his arm around her, pulling her close against him. “Haar’chak! Are you all right?”

“I’m okay! I’m all right.”

Din felt her body against his arm as he looked into her startled eyes, as he caught the warmth of her breath in his helmet, as he felt time stop for a moment. I don’t love her, right? No, I don’t. Do I? I don’t know. But she’s right. If I’m not sure … then I guess … Din sighed. “I’m sorry.”

Marathel nodded. She smiled sadly at him and squeezed his hand. “I’m okay. I’m all right.” Fake it ‘til you make it, old girl.

The cart began moving again. “We have… a lot… we need to talk about,” said Din.

“Yes, we do.” Marathel stared off in front of them. “How many days until we get back to Tatooine?”

“I’m not … you’re not going back to Tatooine.”

Marathel was aghast. “What? Not going back … but … why?”

Din felt like a heel, because he was not going to tell her the full truth. “You said you hate it there.”

“Tatooine is the only other place I know. I’m not … I can’t … where, then?”

“Nevarro. I bought a house …”

Marathel quickly held her breath, thinking a house? For us?

Din continued, “You bought it, truthfully. Your… bounty. I only handled the paperwork. It’s a small place, but it’s a good-sized patch of land. A place where you can feel safe. Where … you can be a recluse if you want to be.”

No, just me, alone.

“It’s the one place that I come back to on a regular basis. You would be able to see Grogu. I don’t go to Tatooine often, and … I couldn’t take you away from him.”

Just everyone else I know. My friends. And Cobb. Especially Cobb.

“Marathel?” She turned to Din. “Are you ... upset about the house? Nevarro?”

“I’m just surprised, that’s all. Of course, I’ll follow your judgement. Whatever you think is best.”

Din, unconvinced, wanted to hold her hand, but was afraid to. “So, you’re okay with my decision?”

Marathel nodded as she stared off in front of her, biting her lip to keep it from trembling. “I’m okay. I’m all right.”

Din didn’t believe her, but they remained silent until the cart stopped.

Future Days: Coming Soon

#the mandalorian #din djarin fanfiction #mando angst #the mandalorian angst #din djarin angst #starwarsficnetwork #pedrostories #mando x plus size oc #mando x original female character #reverse age gap #mandalorian romance

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echo-writes-things · 1 year ago

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Hi I’m angsty anon😛 I recently got back into the saw movies and am now hyperfixating on them after seeing saw x in theaters. Wondering if I could request a fic about the father/daughter relationship between Amanda and John? Wondering if you could write Amanda getting the shit beat out of her like how Eric beat her up and John’s reaction, what he would do, if he would clean her wounds and take care of her, etc.

YES I CAN I LOVE SAW I COULD KISS YOU ANGSTY ANON IVE BEEN SO DESPERATE FOR SAW ASKS

Psycho Family Headcannons:

Let’s be real Amanda gets into fights a lot. Not even on purpose it just follows her wherever she goes

John always patches her up and tries to make it a lesson. That classic old man “we can learn from this” fatherly advice

It’s a ritual every time they run out of bandaids Amanda gets to pick new bandaids (yes she picks princess bandaids not for herself but to make hoffman use them)

John always hates that he can’t step in and stop Amanda’s fights. He’d ask Hoffman to do it but we all know he’s go “no no I wanna see what happens”

One VERY RARE occasion Amanda had to go to Jill for help getting patched up instead of John because he was gone probably for a doctor’s appointment. It was awkward but they both appreciated the experience

John is gone a lot for doctors appointments (cancer check ups usually happen every 3-6 weeks depending on the stage at least that’s what I experienced) each time he comes back he hears Amanda getting into a fight.

Eventually he pulls the “I won’t always be here to fix you..” and she bursts into tears (see what I did there? I referenced Saw III)

One day Amanda got into a real bad fight with a victim, blood everywhere and most of it was her own.

John when full panic. “What happened?! Who did this to you? How are you feeling? Anything broken? Maybe I should take you to the hospital.”

Amanda calmed him down but he still made her sit her gay ass down so he could patch her up.

John may know some stuff about simple first aid but anything past that he’s lost. Stitches? He can barely hold his hand still. But he’ll put some gauze on it and if need be he’ll have Hoffman do it since he’d definitely know more about that sort of thing.

If she’s crying he’s wiping her tears and telling her that it’s all gonna be okay. “I’m here now. Let’s get you cleaned up”

She called him dad once when she was crying from being hurt and he had a wave of emotions. He has mixed feelings being called dad. It was meant to be for his son after all, not this homicidal maniac druggie he picked up off the street. But he lets it slide after a while and eventually gets used to it

Hoffman never makes fun of Amanda while she’s hurt but once she’s cleaned up he bullies her relentlessly

John then has to break up the fight between his two mentally unstable children, “you shouldn’t be fighting each other like this. Honestly you’re both acting like preschoolers”

John isn’t one for “treats”. He’s not gonna give someone a lollipop for not crying during their shot you feel me? So he doesn’t really give Amanda anything after he patches up her wounds. He’ll give her a pat on the back and encouraging words like “you’re strong and you’re smarter than fighting aimlessly like this.”

John is against the whole “Don’t start fights but you can finish them”. He thinks people should just walk away entirely. Silly man doesn’t realize you can’t always walk away, Amanda has tried explaining that but he won’t listen

Amanda is desperate for hugs from John. She never asks for them verbally but he can catch on when she needs one

Despite him practically being bed ridden his hugs are firm as fuck, one of those hugs where you kinda cry a little no matter who you are, just from how nice it feels

Sorry it’s not a fic! I might write an actual fic using these but I’ve had these headcannons held in my brain ever since I saw these tragic mentally ill people. I’ve got so many headcannons and theories please people send in asks for them.

#please I love this tragic found family #they love and hate each other at the same time #all deranged #they hold a special place in my sad little hesrt #horror #saw #saw vi #mark hoffman #amanda young #saw viii #saw x #saw iii #saw ii #saw headcannons #john kramer #jigsaw #jigsaw apprentices #detective hoffman

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violetwitch12087 · 2 years ago

Text

While working at a gas station you get a visit by a particular 'ghost'

Gas Station (Peter Maximoff)

I walk into the gas station that i work at its boring theres nothing to do but just sit there all shift but i need the money so i guess imma have to endure it

I walk behind the counter setting my bag down in a cubby and walk over to some boxes filled with chips and candy and all that i pick one up carefully before i hear the bell ring i turn towards the door "welcome" i say and look confused when i realize no ones there i guess im losing it i walk over to an isle about to set the box down when something almost makes me fall it was quick almost like wind but theres no wind in here that thats strong

"Hello?" I say maybe its a ghost i mean i believe in ghost but why the hell is there one here? "Hey show urself asshole" i say loudly trying to seem more intimidating "uh okay" i hear a voice say the ghost just talked to me i whip around quickly to be met by not a ghost but a really attractive guy "uh hi im sorry i think im hallucinating" i say giving a awkward smile

I admire his features his silver jacket his handsome face his black shirt and pants and a pair of goggles on his head and his silver hair theres no way thats real

He smiles a bit his dimples showing making my knees a little weak "nope just me messin with you" he says and i look at him confused "what do you mean" i ask the boy "well im just really fast" he says before i know it a flash goes in front of me and the boxes are empty all the food in their place

"What- how did you-" i say before it clicks hes a mutant "mutant" i say and he nods standing there proudly "god you asshole" i say hitting him kinda hard "i thought i was gonna go to a mental ward" i say and he laughs before he pulls out a twinkie from the shelf and starts to eat it "why exactly are you eating that without paying?" I ask "well i just unloaded all those boxes and usually its another person whos in here when im stealing from this place so i think i deserve a twinkie" he says before he takes a bite

I shrug my shoulders "as long as you actually are nice and help around here and there ill let you eat as many twinkies as you would like" i say and his face lights up "alright" he says and i nod sticking my hand out which he takes shaking it his warm hand engulfing mine

I pull my hand back nervously "uhm do whatever you want i need to do some other work around here" i say beginning to walk away "well can i help? I dont wanna be stuck at home and i dont really have anyone to talk too" he says and i turn around smiling slightly before i nod and he excitedly rushes after me and we get some more boxes and he helps put them away and he even helped me wipe down the counters and sweep and mop

I turn to the silver headed boy "thanks for all the help" i say "yeah no problem, the names peter" he says and i nod "y/n" i say and he nods as well "pretty name" he says and a blush fills my face "thanks" i say "well its the end of my shift" i say and he nods understandingly "same time tomorrow?" He asks and i nod smiling "bye peter" i say and he nods before he watches me get into my car and drive away and he speeds away to his house

_____________________

Its been a cycle now that peters been at my job for maybe 2 weeks now and its finally time for my shift and for some reason im actually excited ive never been excited for this job who am i kidding its because of peter god hes so cute his hair his smile his jokes i just want him all to myself i just wanna cover him with kisses

I drive to the gas station and walk in setting my stuff in the cubby again and i hear the bell ring i quickly look up and see no one i smile before i go to the isles slowly walking through them before i feel something run past me and i turn around quickly but no ones there i keep walking when i feel someone playfully push me i laugh and look around more and eventually peter appears behind me

"Boo!" He says grabbing me which makes me scream and push him before we burst out laughing i go up to him and push him harder "asshole" i say smiling he pushes me back playfully and i push him back before we both are trying to push each other both of our weight on each other if one of us was to let go and walk away the other person would fall forward

I start playfully flinging my hands at him like a 'cat fight' and he does the same both of our hands just hitting each other like kids making me laugh more before i accidentally hit his face i gasp and he stands there shocked for a moment i laugh a bit "peter im so sorry" i say a smile still on my face and i lead him over to behind the counter and sit him down still smiling

I turn his head looking to see if theres a accidental mark "awe poor baby" i say teasingly and he rolls his eyes smiling still i lean down and place a kiss on his head before another on his cheek and before i know it i have his head in my hands his hands gently holding onto my wrists as i kiss his face over and over

I kiss his nose his head his cheeks as well i pull away still holding his head "you okay now?" I say a smile starting to appear back onto my face and he nods softly smiling a bit as well our smiles start to disappear before we both lean in and our lips connect him holding my wrists still my hands holding his head as we kiss each other lovingly turning our heads as well this has to be a dream

We finally pull away and i smile slightly at him a blush on my face making him smile as well "well" i say "yeah" he says "at least gou're a good kisser tho" i say and he smiles more "thanks you are too, does that mean i can kiss you again?" He asks and i nod frantically before we kiss again his plump lips my now new addiction

God hes so adorable...

*******************

Heres another onnneee yeah please request and chat with me and follow i hope you enjoy my posts more *mwah mwah mwah* bye i love you my love

#evan peters #quicksilver #peter maximoff #ghosts #imagines #peter maximoff x y/n #wattpad

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lya-dustin · 1 year ago

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All is Bliss

Chapter 50

Cw:postpartum depression, refrenced murder, mental illness and intrigues

Gif by @merlinaddams

Taglist @mercedesdecorazon @alexandria-millie @watercolorskyy @sweethoneyblossom1 @ewanmitchellcrumbs

“I’ve never seen you hold him.” Aemond rewards her for this with a kiss on her shoulder.

“I held him when he was born.” The queen points out. It had taken her a few days to feel good enough to leave bed and see the babe.

Three weeks have passed, and she feels no interest in her own child.

What sort of mother did that make her?

There is no bond between her and the babe. Mother claimed she felt that instinctual and instant connection with all her children the moment they were put in her arms and yet…

Aemma cannot seem to make that connection that this is her son, and she must love him. Teora surmised it was due to the birth and that she’d only need to give it time.

And yet Aemond has no such problem and is in awe of the babe that has his nose, or so he says. Aemond who now steals away from court with the excuse of keeping her up to date on things just to see her and the babe.

One would say it was because blood called blood.

Aegon pays Aenys little mind, his arm isn’t strong enough to hold him and he’s never really cared about children to begin with. He came the morning after the birth, had the Septon bless them, gave her a necklace to match the crown he gave her on her nameday and gave Aenys his own dragon egg.

Aemma would have preferred the bronze and red one, but much like the pregnancy itself, she had no actual choice ---another factor that caused her to be so out of sorts.

Instead Aenys shares his cradle with a silver one shot through with iridescent gold to match the one Aemond gave Aegon before he sent him to his death.

A perfect mix between Silverwing and Sunfyre.

She wants to laugh as she remembers Otto arguing that Aegon was king because he had all the symbols.

All the symbols and the names were there to mark Aenys as Aegon’s and yet he does not even look like he was his, or even Aemond’s.

Aemma would have been afraid of the implications if she didn’t get to see those who called her mother a whore and her brothers bastards ardently defend why the baby has brown hair and possibly brown eyes.

“If it weren’t for you, I’d be dead.” It is a thank you for saving me, and while she doesn’t say it, he heard it all the same.

“As would I.” her secret husband admits as he helps her sit on the rocking chair Alys uses to soothe and care for Aenys as if she couldn’t do it herself.

This was news to her; all she knows is that the greens lost the Riverlands, and the blacks are closing in on the city.

The particulars are as unknown to her as the mysteries of maternal instinct.

“I’m sorry, it must have been difficult for you.” She said softly, wishing she could offer more than platitudes. She could offer him a chance to end the war through her, but she needs to be sure he won’t say no, or worse tells Aegon.

He loves his brother, even now that Aemond has been blamed for their failure in the riverlands. They would make up soon enough just as all siblings do, especially now that news has confirmed Daeron’s murder just before the second battle of Tumbleton.

Aegon wants a statue of his brother, like that of the Titan of Braavos and made in gold. As if such a feat were humanly possible.

“It was, but they don’t see it that way. To them I am a craven green boy who ran and let his men get butchered while Criston died honorably.” His anger hides his grief and fear well, just not from her.

“If you hadn’t come, I would be dead, and Daemon would be burning the city to ash.” She reminds him and voices the reason she cannot simply adore the baby in her arms as freely as he did. “Alys said she summoned you because your lovely mother had always intended to kill me once the babe is born.”

Aemma would have been murdered. It is something she had hoped had been just her being so out of it that she misheard it, but Alys had then fed her some fortifying broth and explained that Alicent had believed her to be the one behind Aegon’s assassination and intended to kill her.

I summoned Prince Aemond the moment I learned of her intentions, the witch had said and somehow the young queen believed her.

“She said the same to me and Aegon, mother will be sent to the motherhouse in Oldtown once we can spare the men to send her there.” Aemond agreed with her about her suspicions on Alys’ loyalties. “Mother cannot hurt you and so far, everyone believes she left court willingly. If Alys tries anything, she is to be handed over to the royal confessor and the Faith.”

What was the witch’s agenda? She had been remarkably close to Alicent and now she was casting her lot with Aemma. Very fishy, but then again, every rat is jumping off this sinking ship.

Jena has had many ladies and lords seeking to shower them in favors in hopes of surviving this imminent defeat. Many gifts to her and her allies, but not all of them are true and it’s a tricky thing to find which one is the wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Aemma will have a lot to do once she returns to court next week after the High Septon purifies her and gives a thanksgiving mass for her and Aenys.

“That’s not all, isn’t it?” she asks, knowing he means to say something that scares him more than leaving again.

The war was as good as won, the city would be sieged and while Baratheon and the Reach were close, their enemies were closer.

Tyland Lannister names him Master of Ships while styling himself as Hand.

The meaning is not lost on those assembled. Ironrod hides his allegiance well, but it was clear to all the only green in this table where the two green eyes of the Lord Hand.

Queen Alicent has been removed from Court after her stunt and is no longer to attend the Small Council as an adviser.

There were rumors of madness, of her speaking to ghosts and claiming Aenys is a bastard.

To think the queen mother used to be the sullen little girl who cried to herself because Laenor and Rhaenyra could spend hours on their dragons leaving her to wait alone with Laena.

If she is mad, it would explain her attempt at murder.

Corlys hopes she is mad. It would invite a kinder fate for her. She’d be taken to a motherhouse they could trust, likely the one in Driftmark so Helaena and Aemond may visit her with their children, cared for and treated gently as Aemma was not raised to be vindictive and believes in kindness.

If she weren’t, he would not be surprised to find the queen being left for Syrax by Daemon and Teora.

Teora, who had never hated anyone and raised Aemma into the queen she is now, had demanded he do something about the queen mother.

Aemond and Aegon had taken action and by the end of the week, Alicent had been put under custody. There was a matter that had them arrest their own mother and have it made to look like her willingly going into seclusion and pray to the Seven for peace and a healthy life for the infant prince.

Ellyn Waters had been killed by her or so Mysaria had learned. A ritual the rivers woman did to heal Aegon from his injuries that were supposed to kill him.

The White Worm had learned a great many things, like how in the seventh hell did Lyonel Strong have a shadowbinding daughter with a witchwoman selling fortunes in the city.

The witch would have to die. Even if she was only acting on someone else’s command, such a power couldn’t be allowed to exist.

And the witch knows it too, Corlys can see it in her gaze as she tends to the babe and Aemma now that her mistress is in her gilded cage.

“Lord Borros has sent ravens; the Vulture King has been dealt with and his army marches this way with the men from the Reach under Lord Peake’s command.” Lannister tosses the letter onto the table as if daring them to doubt his word.

The Reach and the Stormlands still didn’t have enough men to push back the North, the Riverlands and the Vale.

There was only one way to end this war: depose Aegon and instate Aemma. Aemma had a son now, Aegon’s life was now fair game as was Aemond’s. If they stepped away peacefully, they may be spared.

“It will not be enough, my lords. We only have one dragon, even if Prince Aemond were to lead the charge, the war is lost.” Ironrod pretends to mull over the pros and cons of Lannister’s last stand before turning the offer down.

They have a way to make peace: Aemma. If they had Aegon abdicate in favor of his wife by his own will, it would all end in a better way.

But that won’t happen, not when Aegon refuses to accept defeat.

The only way to get this war to end without unnecessary bloodshed was to coup Aegon and place Aemma on the throne.

Hence why this meeting did not include Prince Aemond. Aemond would never kill his own brother, kinslaying was too grievous a sin and no matter what happens a brother is a brother.

Aegon must die for this war to end.

This time Corlys isn’t going to fuck it up.

#aemma velaryon #aemond targaryen x velaryon!oc #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x ofc #all is bliss(in the court of aemma the great) fic #all is bliss fic #ocappreciationtag #hotd fanfic

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