#there are so many moments in the show where they could choose to hide things and not communicate but they never do | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rippersz · 1 year ago

Text

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒕 𝑰𝑰𝑰

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✩⢄⢁✧ --------- ✧⡈⡠✩

A Larissa Weems x F!Reader four-part mini-fic. Read the first and second parts here: Heat, Heat II; (NSFW: Vulgar, Breeding Kink, Mommy Kink, G!P, All That Jazz)

✩⢄⢁✧ --------- ✧⡈⡠✩

“Well… it’s um- hot. Of course.” You started, choosing to look down at your knees in embarrassment. “Like my skin is always… sticky. Sweaty. That’s why my shower is literally constantly drying,” your arm gestured vaguely to the open bathroom door. “It helps but not for long because… b-because… um…” god it was so humiliating, “because I just get like all- I get all-” your hands pinwheeled, catching at the air like moving tires as you sifted through your vocabulary for the perfect word, “I- I get all!- you know-”

“Needy.”

You startled, looking up with wide eyes.

Larissa’s gaze was unexpectedly intense. Dark. Staring into your soul with a depth and weight you couldn’t decipher. The sight of it had you freezing in your spot, blushing as she stared at you unblinkingly. There were cogs turning in the older woman’s head. You wondered about her thoughts before you nodded, feeling the embarrassed heat of your cheeks start to turn into a blaze. Needy… she had called you needy. She looked you in the eye and called you needy. The feeling of the duvet curling around your fingers, pushing into your sweating palms, had you pulling your mind out of the gutter with gusto. The object of your affections (and daydreams) was right in front of you. Fantasizing was off the table. Many things were off the table. Including yourself… which could be on the table if there were a table nearby and Larissa had the nerve to bend you over i-

“Apologies, it was- just the first word that came to mind. Please, continue,” she said suddenly, looking sheepish about her outburst.

You observed her for a moment longer, noting the straight posture and the fidgeting hands and the dark blush on porcelain cheeks. She just wanted to help, you reminded yourself. She just… wanted… to help. So you looked away, unclenched your hands from your duvet, and nodded.

“Right- yeah- that. I get um… that- easily. And it’s- it’s really hard. It gets to a point where it hurts. A lot. And then at that point it’s just- all sense is… gone. Disappeared. I sort of fall into this- this haze… where I feel the um- the need to like get rid of the- the feelings really badly. The… desire.”

Oh. Oh it was… it felt like heaven to finally get it all off of your chest. Like the weight of your situation, the strength of the lust that overtook you, shameful and devious in its nature, was lugged off of your shoulders and thrown onto your bedroom floor. You’d been hiding it for nearly four weeks, knowing it would only get worse. The desire would overtake you at some point, you were certain. And then- well then you weren’t sure what you’d do. Die, maybe? Or pass out? Goodness, how terrible would that be? If you fainted and couldn’t wake up without the assistance of another? Surely, someone would find you eventually, no? Larissa would make sure of it - even if she had to show up herself. Maybe. Probably. The very thought of that had you letting out a sigh; one of mixed relief and exhaustion.

“So,” your boss started gently as she rounded the bed and headed toward the windows. Her pace was slow. “You… get flare-ups, so to speak… and have to ‘cure’ them… by uh- well- let’s say ‘taking care of it’? Am I correct?” You were a bit confused as to why Larissa’s voice sounded so strained- and why she was facing the window and not you- but you eventually decided it was most likely a way of giving you privacy. Rather sweet of her, honestly. It made you feel better as you looked at the bedroom door and nodded.

“Yeah it gets pretty intense. Like.. umm..”

“Painful?”

You hummed out a ‘yes’, figuring that was a good word.

“Excruciating?”

You hummed again.

“Just……. agonizing?” Larissa sounded breathless.

You turned, too focused on the tall figure by the window to notice the way the straps of your nightie slipped down the curves of your shoulders. Larissa looked tense, but you could see the way her body moved with breath - as though she were breathing heavier than normal, but you couldn’t hear anything. In fact, the world was quiet. Weirdly quiet. Like the lingering notes of nothing before it exploded into everything. Or the calm before the storm, as some liked to coin it. You weren’t sure what had changed exactly, but you knew something did. The tone of Larissa’s words… her desire to help, practically shining out of her eyes… did she- no. No, there was no way. You blinked, squinting in the dim light of your bedroom as if that would help you peer into Larissa’s thoughts.

…Just what was going on in that head of hers?

—

Larissa Weems knew exactly what was happening.

She knew exactly what was happening and she knew exactly how to help. Or- how to aid you in what you needed.

What you craved.

Oh you poor thing… her poor thing…

Trembling with restrained lust, nearly bursting at the seams with it. Trying oh so hard to act ‘normal’; to keep up appearances and mask the desire simmering- bubbling- beneath the surface. Waiting for it to boil over. Nervous for the moment in which it would.

Larissa had clocked you even before you opened the door. Her senses were sharp. Her veins swam with blood that sang for you; that smelled your… predicament… and wanted to relieve it. Wanted to get rid of it. Wanted to satiate it.

Wanted to make it all her own. Grasp the situation with both hands. Push you down and take you until your begging ceased and fell into mindless whimpers. Until you couldn’t stand being awake anymore and fell asleep in her lap, plush thighs framing her own, warming her throbbing co-

“Are you… okay? Larissa?” Your sweet little tone rang out, hesitant and questioning. It made blue eyes turn from the window, seeking out the slightly worried expression on your pretty face.

She swallowed as discreetly as she could and worked to unclench her hands from the fists they found themselves balled into. Clearly things were affecting her far more than she realized. It wasn’t really her fault though. No, it wasn’t her fault you smelled… so… so good. Larissa took a deep breath, utilizing it as a sigh when all she wanted was to push her head into the slope of your neck and breathe you in, swallowing your scent like a woman that had gone without water for a week. And it wasn’t her fault, likewise, that you were so… lovely. So beautiful. So perfect opening the door like that, trying to hide the way you were dying inside with desire. If she were a bolder soul that lived without shame, Larissa surely would have stepped up and walked into your room, slammed the door behind her with a click of the lock, and pulled you into the most passionate kiss you’d have ever felt. Oh yes, she would have given into her own instincts and taken control with vigor. She would have slipped her fingers beneath the lacey straps of that nightgown and pulled them further down your arms - slowly, teasingly, just to fuck with you and see how desperate you’d get if she took her time. And her nails, trimmed and painted a deep red, would caress so mindlessly - up and down and around in circles that would lapse over each other so many times they would become uncountable…

But she wasn’t that bold. And she cared far too much about your feelings to act so recklessly. So instead of listening to the hum of warmth that tugged at her soul, Larissa kept her head and clasped her hands politely at her waist.

“Yes, of course. I’m merely- trying to understand,” and she smiled as gently as she could, preening secretly beneath your undivided attention.

—

You hummed, looking your boss up and down once more. There was something up… but it wasn’t your place to ask. If she wanted to leave, she knew very well that she could. If she was uncomfortable, she’d just have to say so and the conversation would end. So whatever was going on… it was not for you to know just yet.

“Okay.” It was a simple response but you mirrored her smile to signal that everything was alright. The topic was strange… the last thing you wanted to do was put her in an uncomfortable position.

Larissa didn’t seem to mind too much though as she stepped away from the window and turned to sit in one of the armchairs in the room’s alcove, working to make herself comfortable. You observed like a captivated audience at the opera, unable to take your eyes off of every move she made. The measured steps of her stockinged feet… the steady sway of her hips and canter of her legs and the almost lazy way her arms fell to her sides… you felt your lust rise again, laughing maniacally from somewhere inside you as it spread from the depths of your abdomen up to your heart. There was an ascending pinkness to your cheeks and heat to your body that you sincerely hoped Larissa couldn’t see.

If she did, she didn’t comment on it and instead gestured with a flippant hand wave for you to continue. Her posture was finally relaxed, you were happy to see. Reclined, one leg crossed over the other, pulling her skirt tight while she pressed her elbow to the arm of the chair and rested her cheek on the hills of her knuckles. If she stayed just like that, contoured beautifully by the dim light of the room as the sun waved her last goodbyes, you were sure even the most esteemed artists would pay good money to catch even a glimpse of the Larissa Weems. Beautiful woman and shapeshifter extraordinaire, looking natural and calm in her willingness to help. God she was stunning…

“Um- yeah I think that may really just be it. The pain gets really bad and I just kind of- need to get rid of it at that moment otherwise I… freak out? I guess? The flare-ups are the worst part though,” you frowned, knowing that the eventual next wave would be worse than the last.

Larissa replied with a hum, looking thoughtful for a moment as her eyes- blazing and dark- traced over your form. You weren’t exactly the prettiest picture, you knew. Hunched over as you were on the edge of the bed, playing with the lace hem of your nightgown and anxiously bouncing your right foot off of the floor without much thought. From her perspective, you probably looked like a strange sick mess. Out of your mind with desire - itching to get rid of the buzz your body felt 24/7.

“...Are you aware of what usually happens during heats?” She paused. “Besides the- lust, of course.”

You nodded. “Um yeah, I think so. Usually, I mean for wolves I know there’s an alpha and omega and they do that whole thing. With the mating and the nests. And then the um- like um- the- the b- b-,” ugh god how embarrassing that you couldn’t even say it- “the br- bree-”

“Breeding?”

Your hands flopped down to the bedspread, fisting into the fabric without thought as a whimper- keening and loud and pathetic- threatened to fall off of your tongue. Your throat bobbed with the willpower it took to swallow the sound.

Breeding, she had said. Breeding. Breeding, breeding, breeding… Bearing children for one’s partner… giving up the body to accept the sacred fruits… oh it- it sounded- it sounded delicious rolling past Larissa’s lips. Breeding… oh just the concept-!

‘Yes…,’ your soul called, ‘meant for it. To breed. To be bred. To take. To take and take and take and take and take. To be good. Take her seed- her children- warm her. All for her. Every part. Meant for Larissa. All Larissa’s. Larissa’s. Meant to be hers. All hers.’

You could feel yourself trembling. Keeping the noises in, locked away, and the heat down, resistant in its simmer, was becoming too much. You swallowed, only to feel that your throat was dry. You sniffed, only to find yourself sniffling instead, trying to calm the sudden pound of your heart. It was in your ears. Your neck. The aching heaven between your legs.

“Oh Y/n, I’m sorry,” you dragged your eyes up to look at Larissa. Her expression was full of remorse. “I didn’t mean to trigger anything.”

You shook your head immediately, working through the grasp of your libido as you could feel it pull at you. None of it was Larissa’s fault. She didn’t know. She didn’t have to apologize. And when you tried telling her that, allowing your quivering lips to part so you could explain, the only sound that came out, rising from the back of your throat, was a sharp whine. It sounded like an instrument note for just a second before you abruptly closed your mouth and swiftly brought your hands up to your face, shielding yourself from embarrassment. If you were in better control of yourself, you would’ve apologized immediately, but the best you could do was shake your head and try to regulate your breathing. In and out… in and out… slowly but surely…

Larissa waited with patience as you collected yourself. She was silent, observant… tense. You couldn’t see the way she leaned forward in her seat, lips parted, heart throbbing within her own chest, mind running wild with thoughts that surrounded you and only you.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing out of your mouth when you finally managed to come back down to Earth. It was murmured on repeat, without thought. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry-”

The whispers in your psyche were fading but they still threaded themselves through your body, making your blood hum with ardor, signaling that ‘the next wave’ was going to come about soon and you had limited time to prepare. Not that there was much to do from a preparation standpoint. Throwing the nightie off of your body and laying back on the bed was easy. Cracking your knuckles, taking deep breaths, and waiting was a little harder. Like the anticipation that grew within your body, waiting for the switch to click from off to on, would kill you if it didn’t happen soon enough. And maybe it would. Maybe that was something you had to ask Larissa. Yes. Definitely.

So with as much sense as you could muster, you stopped your apologetic rambling and said into your hands, “Will- will this kill me, Larissa?” You preferred not to think about the pathetic crack in your voice. “Cuz it f-fee-feels like it will….”

That was no exaggeration. It did feel terrible. It did feel fatal.

“Oh… darling, no,” came your savior’s soft voice as she stood up from her spot and crouched before you, placing one cool clammy palm on your bare knee. “You’re not going to die, Y/n… You’ll be alright.” And her coo made you shiver as her thumb, most definitely without realizing, drove you to the brink of madness with its slow circles over your sensitive skin.

It was strange, the reaction you had then. As soon as Larissa touched you, as soon as her long fingers clasped your knee gently and caressed the softness found, the whispers went away. Blinked out of existence. Threw themselves into the ether. Your heart still pumped wildly, remnants of what happened, but there was no more anxiety. No more harm. It was as though your soul had just decided to… settle. Nearly unnaturally. Nearly… impossibly. You felt the graze of your eyelashes along your fingers as you blinked and breathed into your palms. Slowly, the burn in your lungs went away. Slowly, the fierceness of your libido was tamed. Laid to an easily awoken rest.

“Y/n, darling…” Larissa’s voice made you sigh in relief. It felt like cool water being poured down the rivets of your spine. “...look at me.”

And she sounded so sweet… so careful… so aware of your predicament… that you couldn’t help but obey. Like a bitch with her master.

You moved your fingers and peered through the spaces between them, not at all surprised to see the concerned line between your boss’s eyebrows. Oh she looked so beautiful even like that… looking at you with a small pout on her face, like she really did feel bad about your situation. Though when your eyes met, the expression melted into something that nearly had you closing your fingers and covering the entirety of your face again. The corners of her lips drew up and her eyes started sparkling and the lines of her face deepened with warmth, happy to see you listening to her and being so good- being so… so….

“There we go,” Larissa cooed, “Hello~” And then she grinned, silly and amused, looking hopeful in her endeavors to calm you down just with her closeness alone.

It worked, thank goodness, and you found yourself rolling your eyes begrudgingly and smiling behind your hands. At least she didn’t think your reaction was embarrassing. At least she understood.

“Thanks,” was all you could think to say as you took your hands away from your face and sniffed. Larissa wasn’t going to judge you, you finally realized. She was just going to roll with the punches - and hopefully help. Her comfort alone was already doing a whole lot. And the nod she gave you, paired with the kind smile on her glorious face, had you relaxing even more. Just another reminder that it would be okay. Only a few more days. It would be fine. Everything would be fine.

“Are you alright now?”

“Yeah- yeah I think I’m okay. It just- blegh,” you gestured to your head and sighed.

Larissa chuckled very softly beneath her breath before she tilted her head, blue eyes shining with eternal mirth.

“Blegh?”

You nodded, confident in your words and rosy with humor. “Blegh. Yeah.”

“Well alright then…,” she supposed as she shrugged and stood up, put her hands on her hips, and bent her back to straighten it with a firm groan. “Gods, these old bones…”

That little comment had you giggling as you admired her from your place, tempted to swing your feet as you looked on with appreciation. So beautiful in her casualness… so stunning in her calm demeanor…

“Old bones?” Came your soft exclamation, “You’re not old at all! You’re just- um-...”

Larissa paused while you searched for the proper word, putting an end to her stretching so she could look at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Just…?”

A hint of challenge crawled around behind her gaze. It made your hands return to the bedspread, grasping onto the duvet for discreet support. The way she was- she was looking down at you- so tall… so strong… so aware of your little vocal slip-up. Your position wasn’t really helping either… when you removed your focus, trying to look anywhere but at her face with its shifting expression and domineering sort of arrogance, you found yourself at eye level with Larissa’s waist. And her hips. And that soft portion of stomach that one could see through a pencil skirt, with the way it pushed gently against the fabric, all womanly curves and respected existence. Protecting one of the most precious things about her… protecting the sweetness of her womb… the promise of life…

Usually, you wouldn’t focus so much on having children. But evidently, a woman’s heat had no qualms about outwardly desiring a baby. Or two. Or three. As many as it would take to have the emptiness of one's womb filled up entirely. And yours begged for it.

Oh if only… if only Larissa had a cock. The things she could do with it… the pleasure… it had you biting your lip as you stared off into space.

Then a cool hand was placed on your forehead and suddenly you were blinking, looking up at your boss with confusion.

“Um-”

“Hmm,” she cut you off, “no fever.” And then the hand was taken away.

You scoffed, swatting her out of your personal space (mainly for your sanity).

“Yeah duh- I’m not sick,” you spat playfully. “And you’re not old, your skeleton is just- I dunno- speaking to you,” you shrugged, spouting out whatever damned thing came to mind just to distract Larissa and keep her attention from getting stuck on your behavior.

And it seemed to work as she stared down at you, blinked, and then let out a confused little laugh. It was tinged with hilarity - like she was finally unwinding after a long day and could allow herself to break through whatever seams she was stuck in. Principal Weems, you noticed, had become Larissa- in every beautiful and silly way. It was heartwarming to see her place a hand on her chest as she laughed. You wished you could take it into your palms and kiss it. Over and over until she grasped your chin and shoved two fingers into your mou-

“Speaking to me! Ugh- goodness, honestly where do you come up with the things you say?” She giggled as she shook her head.

Your only reply to that was to smile a little wobbly smile, trying with all of your might not to remove your eyes from her beautiful face. One look down and you knew you’d descend into madness again. Your mind would run away from you. Your heart wouldn’t want to chase after it. And your libido would rise from its slumber, grumpy and angry and raw as it faced the tantalizing curve of Larissa’s lower belly. Just the thought of it had you sighing wistfully and looking away, pulling your attention to the windows behind you.

“It’s getting late,” was your quiet observation as you noticed how the sun was nearly gone, only leaving the very last lingerings of her golden rays.

“Ah. So it is,” Larissa agreed, her voice taking on a quiet hush as night fell like a stage’s red curtain.

And with the red curtain came the momentary silence before the audience erupted into cheers.

But there, in the dark of your Nevermore quarters, with the door locked and the rain picking up outside, you figured there would be no applause. And no cheering. And no congratulations and smiling faces afterwards. No, it would just be the quiet of your shared breathing and the steady pound of your heart that you could hear ringing in your ears. The moment felt like a strange reset. Or a lull, perhaps. Not so tense but not so relaxed. You felt your body teetering on the edge of desire. Instead of nipping at you, tugging at your heart and lungs with sharp claws, the symptoms of your heat rose like a wave. Impending. Inescapable. Just waiting to take you under and drown you. Just sitting there, on standby, smiling something evil as its dark ministrations plucked at your nerves. The muscles in your thighs twitched, wanting to move, wanting to push you into motion and make you rock back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Eager to quench the thirst your instincts craved. Eager to have you writhing around on the bed, grinding against anything you could find.

“Larissa,” your voice fell into a gasp, “you- you have to go. I- I- can’t do this.” It was time. It was time and she had to leave immediately before things became worse.

“Another flare-up?” She questioned gently, worry in her voice.

You nodded and turned to look at her. ‘You gotta go’ was on the tip of your tongue. ‘Unless you wanna stay for this next part you have to g…o…’ but the words died. Perished. Disintegrated as you came to find that she had gotten closer. Much closer. So close you could smell her perfume - gardenia and jasmine. It filled your lungs and made you dizzy; made you grasp onto the hem of her skirt, thumbing the fabric and tugging on it gently - like a lifeline; made you swallow and crane your head, nearly whimpering as you felt your chin graze the plushness of her abdomen. A whimper pushed at your lips, eager to fall into the silence, eager to seal your fate as you stumbled into a gaze of pure deep blazing blue. Dark with passion and desire and something else. Dark with… with… with need? You swallowed.

No. No no no. She wasn’t- she couldn’t be- she- well- you felt your heart stop. Was Larissa….?

“You’re going to be okay,” her voice interrupted, soft and kind as two palms, beautiful and desirable and heavenly, cradled your head. You felt her fingers card through your hair, tender and light.

If you were in a different situation, you were sure you would’ve sunken into the feeling and embraced Larissa’s closeness - but you were rooted in the moment and very much aware of the fact that her expression had changed. She was suddenly very serious, looking down at you with hesitation. Like a push and pull was happening inside of her. You didn’t even realize you had moved your hands from her skirt until they were framing her palms, running over her knuckles, silently telling her that she could speak. That she could be honest. That whatever was spoken about in that room would stay in that room. You were to be trusted. You were different.

And so the cord snapped - and Larissa began speaking.

“Y/n…” she started, voice shaking with breath, “…I need you to listen very closely.” You nodded, your thinking thrown to the wind; hanging onto her every word. When she paused, looked between your eyes, and saw your sincerity, she continued. “I may have an idea as to what’s causing this… but you have to stay with me while I explain. I understand it’s difficult, but you’re strong. Can you do that? For me?” And her blue eyes widened, fixing you with a stern look and a demand.

Yes. Yes yes yesyesyesyes all for you for you for you Larissa yes yes yes. You nodded again, immediately, without a second to lose, and croaked out a gravelly “Yes. Of course.”

Her explanation would be important. Her knowledge would be valuable. Even though your body was quickly warming up, becoming acquainted again with the desire to fuck, you grasped your mind and held it tight. The fingers in your hair were distracting. The closeness of her warm body was distracting. The smell of her perfume was distracting. The little relieved smile on her face was distracting.

But… if you got to see that smile again at the end of her spiel, as sweet and soothing as it was, then holding on until the last second would have been worth it. So you worked against your instincts and sat tight, giving all of your attention to Larissa.

—

Y/n was making it very hard for her to focus.

Very very hard.

So hard that she could barely keep herself in check.

Her pupils were blown, she knew. And her hands were shaking. And her cheeks and chest were flushed and her throat was dry and she really couldn’t help the way she ran her tongue over her lips as she looked down at the sweet thing beneath her.

You were very cute, not even realizing the extent of your own desire. How it showed on the outside. How the clench of your thighs was quick and rushed and desperate. How the bob of your throat and quiver of your lips signaled that you were holding back pretty sounds. How the tendons in your hands flexed when you twisted the duvet into your palms, poorly concealing your slipping self control. It was arousing.

And distressing.

Larissa remembered the first time she had gone through the cycle. She was capable of falling into a heat and a rut considering her genetic makeup. Born a female at birth with the ability to change that if she so wished; at a base level, that made for an interesting time with intimate partners. But on a level more carnal, more animalistic, it was something else. Something entirely different. Something… she didn’t often like to show. It wasn’t everyday that she stumbled upon people who experienced similar things anyway. Werewolves were fascinating creatures and those that could shift into animals had interesting abilities, but Larissa had yet to meet a person who satiated that side of her.

Who… gave themselves up to her. Submitted. And allowed themselves to be owned.

Others often took one look at the headmistress and saw a challenge. But you… oh you… you saw a dream. You saw all of your wishes coming true. And as Larissa watched the depraved little fantasies play out within that brilliant mind of yours, she was brought back to the painful glory of mating season. And just how delicious it was to feel the burn between her thighs and the ache within her core. And just how nice it was to relish in her own touch and embrace her own desire. And just how precious it was to drive her partners mad. Crazy. Insane with lust. Bonkers with ardor. To run them into the ground with need and push them off the precipice of the most wonderful climaxes. It was nearly addicting. It flashed through her mind during the times she wasn’t drowning in her heat. It flashed through her mind in that exact moment.

While looking down at you. While collecting her thoughts. While trying to explain.

Larissa inhaled a shuddery breath and averted her eyes from the tantalizing beautiful twinkle in your gaze. The dark ceiling, she found, was much less distracting. It gave her enough reprieve to begin speaking, allowing her fingers to play with your hair mindlessly as she picked through her words.

—

“Last year, over the summer, I returned to the United Kingdom to visit my brother.” Blue eyes glanced down at you before darting away again. “We stayed in Norfolk, deciding that we both needed a break from Worthing. That’s in West Sussex, it’s-”

“I know,” you interrupted softly, giving her a small smile once she looked down. You’d also gone to Norfolk over the summer. It was just for a week- a vacation of sorts- to get away from the drone of everyday living. It was crazy that you’d both gone during the same summer, but there was no way you’d been visiting at the same time. Right? You were sure you would’ve noticed her. You were sure you would’ve taken the chance to say hi.

After a delayed nod, Larissa continued. “Of course. Well, it was a nice trip for what it’s worth. It was good to see him again. But…” she swallowed, raising her eyebrows, “toward the end of my stay, something happened. Neighbors were complaining about bad water. The taste had changed, the color too. And when authorities found out what it was…” Larissa trailed off, getting lost in thought for just a moment. You watched with interest as the cogs turned in her head - and then blinked when she finally cleared her throat and continued. “..well. Turns out a werewolf died in one of the lakes. It happened near one of the smaller intake structures, the ones that take clean water and make it consumable. By the time authorities found out, it was too late.” She sighed, her chest heaving with breath.

You frowned. The water… that definitely rang a bell. It had been a strange thing at the time; the water tasted vaguely of metal and it sort of burned the back of your throat, prompting you to switch to plastic water bottles. You’d only had a few cups at most before making the change, but still. You’d still… you still had… some. Your eyebrows scrunched together in mixed confusion and surprise as you stared up at Larissa. Before she opened her mouth, you knew what she was going to say.

“I’d already had some of the water…” she paused, taking that moment to massage your head and tilt it back the slightest bit; fingers framing the space beneath your ears and the apples of your cheeks. Her expression was warm. Apologetic. “...And I know you did too.”

—

Larissa let out a little sigh when she saw your face fall. Part of her wanted to strengthen her hold and keep you in place when you began moving away, but she controlled herself and let you go; watching with eyes of pity as you reared away from her hands and put your feet firmly on the floor. When you got up, she took a few paces to the left and went to turn on the lamp on your bedside table - to distract herself and give you space.

“...A Himalayan salt lamp?” Larissa couldn’t help but question once she saw it, letting out a sweet little chuckle as she trailed one finger down the side of the pink-tinged crystal.

She was amused by the sight of it… and quite delighted when the beautiful golden glow lit up a small portion of the room. It was very adorable. It was very ‘you’.

“Huh? Oh. Yeah,” she heard you say distractedly with the slightest bit of hesitation - as if you were nervous that she was judging you. She wasn’t, of course. She’d never.

And to prove that, Larissa turned to you, a soft look in her eye as she watched you think over her words.

—

It was a lot to take in, but you knew it was coming. There had to be a reason for all of your strife - it couldn’t have just happened. And there it was. A bit strange but apparently true. You drank werewolf’s blood. Without realizing it. That was that. Done and done.

Well - not entirely. You had one question.

“How did you know I had it too?”

Your gazes met. Larissa’s eyebrows raised as she let out a breath.

“Well I… saw you. It was an odd coincidence, at first I thought I was hallucinating,” she let out a little amused scoff, “but no. There you were. Drinking a glass of water at an inn.” The look she gave you then was pointed- as if to say ‘My story is true and I was correct in my assumptions.’

But you knew she was right. You remembered that glass of water - and you remembered cringing at the odd taste. At the time, you finished it because you were parched, but after that you switched to the water bottles. And Larissa had seen you drinking, there at the same time, entirely unaware of the overall predicament and how it would affect you b- oh.

Oh.

Your eyes widened, body tensing with surprise once your mind caught up and everything clicked into place. Larissa’s flushed skin… her odd breathing… her dilated pupils and enraptured, concerned, knowing expression… You looked away from her so quickly you thought your head was going to snap off of your neck.

Larissa… Larissa was in heat. Or- or rut?

Oh god Larissa was in rut-!

“I was unsure of how to tell you earlier… if you are uncomfortable now, just tell me and I’ll g-”

“No. No no no no no,” you whispered, harsh and quick. “I want you, Larissa.” You were facing the wall, unable to look her in the eye as you spoke and cut her off as softly and kindly as you could. “I want- I-” your eyelids fluttered until you closed them and pressed your lips together, letting out a sigh as one of your hands went up to rest against your forehead. It was so hard to say- so hard to admit- but it was obvious what had to happen. It was obvious what you wanted to happen. “I want you… but only- only- if you want me too.” Your words hid the plea you yearned to share. Please. Please want me back. Please want me too. Please do this with me. Please be mine.

And as if stirred by your words, by your realization, your body came alive; thrumming with many strong lightning bolts of want. Of pure want and desire and ardor and admiration and lust. Your mind was running in circles, jumping from one fantasy to another.

Larissa on top of you. You on top of Larissa. Hips bucking and lips grazing and little moans- little muffled whimpers- leaving each of you and ringing like songs. Pretty beautiful songs that left your thighs shaking and fingers twitching and body humming for her. All for her. All for Larissa and her white teeth and red nails and red lips and pink cheeks and oh god- Larissa’s hands on your hips, Larissa moving your body back and forth and back and forth and back and forth, again and again and again against her. Pressing and writhing and coming undone beneath her touch. Bouncing on her lap, her soft velvety thighs; pulling her closer to your face, mouth open and wanting; seeing your legs out of the corners of your eyes as she pushed them up and back, pressed to your chest, so she could sink deeper and deeper and deeper into you-

“Y/n,” the object of your affections softly called from behind you, voice heavy with mixed concern and uncertainty.

An anxious sigh escaped your pursed lips. Of course - you shouldn’t have said anything. Of course - she didn’t want you. Of course - she thought it was odd. As your boss, god as your boss!, she definitely thought you were mad, didn’t she? Yes, terribly mad and terribly horny and just out of your goddamn mind with lust - to the point where you didn’t realize (until it was too late) that you were propositioning your own boss!

“Jesus, I’m sorry,” you began shaking your head, moving your hand down to cover your mouth with a sigh. The heat coiling within your abdomen wasn’t helping in the least; it only served to haunt you as you figured out how best to escort Larissa out of the room without jumping her bones.

She was in- in rut, for gods’ sakes! She was in rut and she was- oh just the thought- of her at night… hand between her thighs… moaning into the pillow… wrapping around her length or sinking into her heaven and thrusting, thrusting, thrusting… You swallowed hard to hold back a sudden moan and blinked rapidly, grasping onto your dwindling sanity and trying to dispel the wandering thoughts. Your heart was a rock concert in your ears. Sweat gathered along your spine.

It seemed, for once and for all, after teetering on the edge of desire for so long! - it seemed that it was finally time. So you spoke quickly and swallowed your embarrassment, shame, and lust for just a moment more. You’d deal with repercussions later - after getting Larissa the hell away from your bedroom.

“I’m sorry I even suggested that. If you don’t want this, just- just go. For your sake and mine I can’t- I can’t- be around you right now.” It was unnatural hearing yourself so panicked and serious, but it was necessary. The situation had become dire. If she thought you were rude, you’d handle that later too.

The sound of stockinged feet padding up behind you had you tensing. Your body felt stiff already. Tired. Hungry. Like you’d spent your entire life in heat and this quick reprieve left you sore and exhausted. The feeling would be gone in a few moments you knew. Soon enough, the pleasurable warmth in your womb, kind and gentle at that moment, would blow up and start screaming and scratching at you - and then you’d have no choice but to turn around and shove Larissa out of the room. But even when you were about to turn, to gently take her hand and lead her away and insist that staying wasn’t worth it and that she could probably find someone else to help her through her rut - someone better, more equipped - you were stopped. By hands. Two elegant feminine hands that gripped your biceps and kept you in place, facing the wall, body rigid and breath dipping into the shallows. Her hold wasn’t tight, but it was enough. It was enough. You felt your legs quiver.

“Y/n,” she spoke slowly, her tone a deep velvety whisper, “I do want this.” Her hands squeezed gently. “But I need to know,” and she stepped forward until your back was pressed to her front, resting against her, soaking in her warmth, “that you’re not just saying it.”

“I’m n-”

“Shush.”

You shushed.

“I know. I know you think you want this, but Y/n heats are… intense, for lack of a better word. They make you say yes to things you may not usually agree to. They make you-” Larissa inhaled sharply before she let out a bone-shaking sigh. The clammy press of her forehead against the top of your head had you blushing. “-they make you regret. And I don’t want you regretting something… I know I will cherish,” she finished in a whisper.

You hadn’t realized you were holding your breath until you gasped for air, chest heaving with relief. The scent of her- of your boss- elegant and mischievous and everything everything everything- blanketed your lungs like a cold woman’s duvet at night. It was intoxicating. Liberating. The scent of… of-... of your mate?

“I won’t.” You spoke suddenly- sharply- desperate to make her see that you’ve always wanted her and you were sure you always would. “Even if I wasn’t in heat, even if this- this wasn’t happening… I’d still want you Larissa. I’d still say yes, if you asked.” And though you felt the need to hang your head in some strange mix of shame and embarrassment, you didn’t want to displace her resting - so you stayed still. Eyes facing the wall, peering at the wallpaper for all it was worth, allowing yourself to revel in the closeness of her. Finally finally finally - the missing puzzle piece your body longed for. The hymn it yearned to recite and sing and cry.

“You will be the death of me,” Larissa whispered sweetly, quickly, like a prayer, before you were being turned around and pushed.

Your back hit the wall with a thud. Your gaze melted into hers. She looked between your eyes- hurried and desperate. You’d never seen Larissa so close to the edge before. Her chest was rising and falling unsteadily, shakily, and there was a wildness to her expression that felt so terribly deliciously exciting. Her lips were parted, her cheeks were very flushed, her eyelids were fluttering. The only word you could think of to describe Larissa, as you gazed at her and felt yourself melt, was the word need.

“I need you.” It was true. It was perhaps the most truthful thing you’d ever said in your life. You wanted her, yes - but if you had to survive the night, since you finally had her in front of you, then you needed her. Her and her warmth and touch and body and all of the pleasure she could give and give and give.

“I know,” she whispered, leaning closer, pressing your chests together, forcing your gaze up through your lashes. You could feel her through the fabric of her dress and your nightie. The hardened peaks of her nipples, the soft flesh of her body- her midsection- the tops of her thighs. Her head was bowed, her nose nearly grazing your own, her shoulders caging you in. Larissa was staring at you; dark blue depths invading your senses, asking you only one last question and insisting that you answer it. She took a shuddering breath; you watched, enraptured, as her lips moved. “Are you certain? Are you- are you absolutely certain?”

You were. Absolutely.

But you knew that if you said no, if you changed your mind and didn’t want it anymore, she would step back immediately. She would step back and she would nod and she would understand and she would politely excuse herself - hunger and desire be damned. She’d leave you be and probably never mention it again. She’d bid you goodbye with a sweet smile and leave you to your own devices. She would never hurt you. She would never cross that threshold. She would never destroy that line. If you reconsidered, Larissa would understand. No matter what.

“Yes. I’m certain.”

And that’s why you couldn’t let her go.

“I’ve never been so certain in my life.”

You craved her.

Larissa’s eyes darted down to your mouth as you spoke. Lust curled like mist within her eyes. It reached for you. Called for you. It whispered your name and beckoned you closer.

So close… until your lips were pressing against each other, into each other, heads turning and mouths melting. Drowning in bursts of warmth. Interlocking finally. Both of you groaned, filthy and deep and full of breath, chests rumbling with satisfaction as the beasts within roared excitedly. Distantly, you felt clawed hands grab at your waist, wrapping around the thick of your hips, eager to be close. Eager to hold. Eager to own. God her lips were so soft. And full. And talented. Wicked. Devilish. They parted, teased, kept you slow and eager as your hands fumbled for purchase somewhere on Larissa’s body. Eventually, they ran up to her shoulders before draping over her neck and playing with the little baby hairs at the base of her updo. It would be ruined by morning. You couldn’t wait to be the culprit.

Larissa pulled back to glance at you, admiring as though you were the stars. “Open your mouth.”

The part of you that burned for her nearly collapsed, entirely too pleased by the demand to give you any pause as your lips fell open instantly. Then you leaned back in, both of you meeting halfway, acting as one until her tongue licked at your lower lip and dipped into your open mouth, curling in and dancing with your own tongue. The sensation had you whining, heart squeezing with pleasure, throat humming with sound. Larissa’s lips twitched into a smirk, smug and proud as she kissed you breathless. As she ran her hands along your sides. As she bent her knees and tucked her palms beneath your thighs, quick and smooth, before standing tall again. Taking you with her. Lifting you like Hades with his bride. Never letting your mouth leave her warmth for even a second as her muscles flexed beneath her shirt. And whatever surprised little sound you let out was quickly muffled- rectified- by a low moan from your lover’s lungs. Oh, she sounded so beautiful. So happy. So satisfied. And enraptured. And starved. Not even a tremble wracked her body as she leaned forward and kept you pinned to the wall. Pinned and spread. Your legs pressed against her curves, your thighs squeezed her waist, not letting her go even though you knew she didn’t want to be anywhere else. Even though the way your body fit against hers was something no god could ever experience. It was too good. It felt too right.

And you kissed until your lips tingled, pink and swollen and just as gorgeous as Larissa’s - both of you smeared with the red of her lipstick. The taste of her mouth, red-wined and human, lathered your tongue, making you swallow as you tried committing her to memory. But even as you leaned your head back against the wall, catching your breath, trying to relish in the feeling, Larissa continued her attack and struck gold.

Wanting lips trailed from the side of your mouth to your chin, soft and slow, running down down down until they grazed the sensitive skin of your neck and had your mouth opening with a gasp. She was ravenous but restrained, moving like a hungry snake to strike at your flesh and kiss kiss kiss her way to heaven. The little wet sounds her mouth made had your eyes rolling back, quickly falling into darkness as you closed them and hummed in delight.

“How long have you wanted this?” Larissa’s voice was gravelly, interrupted only by her soft pants. “How long have you wanted me?”

“So long,” was your whimpered response. “So long- so l-long-” there was a crack in your tone when she moved her head and decided to lick a long thick line up the side of your neck, pushing her tongue against your skin with fervor. Like she was trying to eat you. Consume you. Resist the instinct to sink her teeth into your warm flesh.

“Hm,” was the last thing you heard before Larissa removed her mouth and started to loosen her hold on your body.

Panic tugged at you.

“N-no no, what are you doing?” You shook your head, trying to tighten your hold around her. But Larissa had always been stronger and she easily let you slip away and forced your feet to touch the ground. “No no no-”

“Shh,” she murmured, running her hands up to your face. “Do as I say and get on the bed for me. Yes?”

You swallowed, resisting the urge to smile as your heart did somersaults within your chest. Yes! It’s happening! Yes yes yes finally! This is it this is it! Yes yes!

“Yes. Sure,” you nodded into her hold, blushing hard when her palms tightened around your cheeks.

There was a sudden sharp edge to her eyes as her brows set, falling to shadow her gaze.

“Yes, who?”

Yes… who? You frowned.

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“Yes. Who.” Larissa repeated herself, leaning down until the tip of her nose brushed yours. Her hands moved, one shifting down to tug at your waist, to bring you even closer, while the other wrapped around your chin and tightened. “Think, darling. I know you have a brain in there somewhere,” she whispered, sounding like velvet and feeling like heaven.

She was right, naturally. You did have a brain. It was half mush due to her attention, but it was still somewhat there. You took a moment to search through it. Yes who yes who yes who yes who yes- who-

“Yes, a-alpha?” Came your little squeak. It didn’t sound quite right but if she wanted to be technical about it, and if she liked that, then that was what she was.

A warm twinkling laugh met your ears. It was soft and amused, leading you to smile in reply as you admired the way Larissa’s eyes squinted with mirth. Clearly you’d gotten it wrong.

“Cute,” she nodded, “but not the one I’m looking for, sweet girl. Try again for me.”

Right. Try again. Okay. You bit your lip, growing antsy in your waiting.

“Um- Yes… Mistress?” It was a shot in the dark - and you missed.

Larissa tsked, her breath huffing against the curve of your lips as you watched her raise an eyebrow. She felt so good… so warm… you swallowed, eyes darting down to watch her lick at her lower lip.

“No, darling… Do I really need to coax it out of you?”

Then her tone changed- flipped like a tossed coin; it became high and taunting and coy as she moved her head and pressed her lips to your ear.

“Or are we both going to pretend that you don’t want to call me Mommy?”

It was said so sweetly- so slowly- that you thought you may be hallucinating. When you go to move your head back, to look into her eyes properly, the hand on your chin wraps around your throat and presses. It’s not hard, not by any means. Just the slightest pressure - barely there. A silent claim. Ownership. And Larissa doesn’t stop.

“Hm? Is that what we’re going to do sweetheart?” The hand on your hip moved down to squeeze your ass; the bite of her nails through your slip, digging into your skin, made your thighs clench- desperately trying to provide friction for an ache you had yet to take care of. “Are we going to ignore your desire for Mommy instead of Mistress?” There was a pause as she pressed a soft kiss to the shell of your ear. “Unless you want to call me Alpha-”

“No,” you gasped, quiet and quick. Alpha was not her title. She wasn’t a dog. And she wasn’t a ruthless violent angry horny authoritative creature.

She was Larissa.

She was..

She was -

“No.. Mommy.”

The noise that rumbled up from her chest made your skin run hot. It was full of deep pleasure. Like the bits of wolf that ran through her blood were very happy with your submission. So happy, in fact, that she pulled back to give you a large toothy grin.

“That’s my girl.” Came her chimed praise as the hand around your throat slid away and her fingertips went to caress the side of your face. “So obedient for me… so good…”

Yes yes yes so good always so good always hers always need her- need to be kissed by her- fucked by her- dominated by her- always-!

Your hands landed on her shoulders before you could blink, instantly going to push- push push push until she’s backing up. Spurred on only by your deep desire to see her on the bed, spread out, panting, just as wanting and desperate as you. But you don’t get very far. Maybe one or two steps backward, making you think you’d actually be able to bend her slightly to your will - but then there are strong tapered fingers wrapping around your wrists and tugging them off of her shoulders.

“Ah ah ah,” Larissa admonished, shaking her head and looking deep into your eyes. “I don’t remember you being the Mommy.” She was smug, so smug, as she turned you both around and began walking forward.

You nearly stumbled over your own feet in your haste to back up toward the bed.

“I can be the Mommy,” you grumbled, shooting her a playful glare.

It was a lie, of course. You were a strong soul, but rarely one to take full control of a sexual moment. If it was something less… kinky… then you could certainly provide pleasure; but in that moment, with every inch of your libido working against you- forcing you to desire the floor beneath your knees and the thick of Larissa’s cock in your mouth- well. That was different.

“Oh can you?” A light eyebrow rose, ticking up at the exact moment that the backs of your legs hit the side of the bed and went buckling beneath the sudden feeling.

Your hands reached up to go for her shoulders, but the iron grip around your wrists kept you suspended. Then her hands were gone, in the blink of an eye, and you were released - and Larissa watched, with a flicker of sadistic delight, as you let out a small hiccuping gasp and fell backwards onto the mattress. When you looked up at her, an unserious glare in your eyes, you felt your heart skip several beats. Back again were you in that position… with her hips so close… and her body towering… and her carmine lips curled into an evil smirk.

“You were saying, love?” God she sounded so good… So soft and perfect, with her strong accent and delicate words and good lord- you couldn’t stop staring!

The only thing standing between you and the heaven between her legs were only about three pieces of cloth that could easily be torn in half- right off of your bodies- thrown to the floor. Your hungry gaze traced the curve of her thighs- from the soft dips of her skirt’s drape, to the plush spot in which those long gorgeous legs pressed together… leading right up to…

Your fingers twitched.

Please… please let me feel… please I want- want so bad- want to- have- lick- need-

“Y/n.” You looked up. Larissa tilted her head.

“Yes?” God you sounded so hoarse-

“Yes…?” Her nostrils flared.

Oh. Right.

Warmth shot through your heart.

“Yes, Mommy?”

“Mmm,” she hummed, taking a moment to run her gaze over your face- your body- your soul. “...Tell me what you want.”

You blinked.

“What?” There’s no time for that! I need you and I need you now!

“I said,” two large palms slid into your hair, cupped the back of your head, and pulled you closer, “tell me what you want.”

She smelled so perfect. All floral-y and jasmine-y and precious and when your face was lightly pressed to the fabric of her skirt, you couldn’t help but take a deep breath and close your eyes. If heaven existed, it was most certainly between Larissa Weems’ thighs - both under her skirt and above it. Your arms, meanwhile, wrapped around the backs of her legs and curled under the skin beneath her knees, keeping her steady as she held you there. Not with enough pressure that you couldn’t breathe, but with all the intent to make you flushed. To have you panting. Thinking. Wanting.

Wanting so much… desiring so much… needing her- needing all of it- everything she’d give you-

“A-anything,” you stuttered, pulling your head back into her hold. Mmm her palms were so warm- so soft-

“Anything?” There was a gentle blush on the apples of Larissa’s cheeks - magnified only by the vague glow of your lamp. She outshined the sun, then. By far more glorious than any beautiful phenomena at dawn or dusk…

“Mhm,” you nodded, “anything.”

A bit of her bottom lip disappeared into her mouth, tucked under her teeth, bitten hard by a woman who clearly had things on her mind. Seeing you there, looking up at her as though she placed the very moon into the sky… oh she wanted to see you ruined. She wanted to see you owned. She wanted to see you begging, pleading, needing her, barely able to breathe without her in you- taking her- wanting her- calling her name- calling Mommy- Mommy-!

Falling prey to your body again, your gaze drifted back to Larissa’s waist- taking in the curves and the feminine beauty- imagining your hands gripping her hips, her thighs, her ass, pulling her closer; looking lower still to rest on- on- o- on… on…. oh… was- was that-

A bulge. Beneath her skirt. Straining against the material, held back by her waistband and her panties. Obviously hard and obviously- so obviously- big.

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Wow Ripley, way to drop this out of nowhere and end on such a vulgar note oooo.

Anyway, there will be a part IV (4). At some point. Don’t hold your breath. I love you. - Rip x

(Tell me if it’s good cuz I’ve never written smut before and I know we’re not even there yet.)

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Tag list: @weemssapphic @eveymay @enchantressb @machi-avelli @kimiinou @fyrecatz @i-wanna-be-a-deer @gwendolinechristieiscute @maviscreates @im-a-carnivorous-plant @readingtheentrails @queercodex @a-queen-and-her-throne

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#rippersz #fanfictionwriter #fanfic #fanfiction #larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #wlw fanfic #larissa weems x y/n #larissa weems x you #heatfic #smut fic #smut #g!p #principal larissa weems

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yanderes-galore · 10 months ago

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Oooh what if wild Toothless who never got shot down by hiccup , toothless who can still fly , toothless who got attached very quickly to a injured human who stuck in his cove/nest❄️anon (yandere pet like concept/hcs/thoughts pretty please )

Yesss, here's what I got!

Yandere! Feral/Wild! Toothless Concept

Pairing: Animal/Pet-Like

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Kidnapping, Violence, Blood, Dragons killing dragons, Forced/Dubious companionship.

I really like the idea of the roles being switched!

Instead of an injured dragon befriending a human, an injured human befriends a dragon.

This no doubt takes place during the times where humans and dragons are still fighting.

Toothless is still the last of his kind, an elusive species.

You've heard of dragons, you've seen what they can do.

Many vikings tell you to fear them.

You didn't believe them until you were attacked.

You met Toothless as you were hiding from dragons who attacked you.

The Night Fury no doubt smelled your blood from your wounds.

You aren't injured too bad but certainly can't make it back home.

Not with the dragons in the area.

You aren't sure what to think when you see a Night Fury attack the dragons around you.

Toothless sustains some injuries but for the most part is fine.

You fear for your life when the Night Fury approaches you.

Both of you are covered in blood, the attackers are gone.

His eyes are in slits for a moment but he notices you're harmless.

Weak, even.

You could be easy prey.

Instead, the Night Fury doesn't kill you.

Instead he nudges you softly, maybe even tries to clean your wounds.

This Night Fury would be more scared of you than you are of him.

He isn't hungry, he isn't scared, he just seems curious... concerned.

You keep staying still, even as the dragon lays beside you to watch you.

Since Hiccup didn't find Toothless in this you would be the one to give him such a name.

Maybe as you heal more you fed him, allowing Toothless to show his retractable teeth.

The cool thing about this version of Toothless is definitely his flight.

He doesn't need anyone to fly, he's a regular Night Fury.

Yet despite this the dragon befriends you, an injured human.

He doesn't eat humans, it's actually not in the Night Fury diet (Look at the Night Fury article on the wiki)

So he isn't interested in eating you.

This would explain why he chooses to protect you instead.

The fact you're both "harmless" is what makes you able to relax.

That is until Toothless decides to take you away.

After all, you can't be safe here.

Toothless means well when he tosses you onto his back and flies to the cave he usually resides in.

The dragon hates that you give him the cold shoulder afterwards.

He brings you back all sorts of food to care for you.

He wants his human friend to heal.

He feels you're being hunted just as much as him.

You don't harm him because of a few reasons.

You wouldn't be able to go home... and you are admittedly attached to this dragon as your only friend and savior.

This is what makes you accept the supplies you're given.

You even allow Toothless to cuddle around you.

The issue is the dragon never lets you leave.

Nothing gets in the den, nothing gets out.

Toothless has taken the role of your protector.

Your family may think you've been killed.

You haven't.

In fact, you're really safe.

Toothless, as a Night Fury, is intelligent and powerful.

He understands your social queues and gets you what you need.

If you tried to leave then the dragon forces you back in the den.

If he lets you go... you'll die.

Dragons who try to sneak up on you are quickly attacked by Toothless.

Night Furies don't eat other dragons, but that doesn't stop Toothless from tearing into them.

Toothless washes off the blood of his kills before bounding to you.

Yet you know what he's done as you can smell the metallic smell on his scales and breath.

Toothless is loyal and will protect you no matter what it takes.

Why should you even go home? Home won't accept you anymore for having a dragon...

It's just you and Toothless now.

#yandere how to train your dragon #yandere httyd #yandere toothless #yandere dragon #overprotective dragon #platonic yandere

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cranberryjuice-posts · 9 months ago

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Hi!! I love your Clarisse fan fics so much <3! I was wondering if you could right one with very very sweet reader being in a straight toxic/abusive relationship and she just takes it but never tells anyone. Her and Clarisse where enemy’s but secretly loved each other. Than one day reader was walking around with a bruise on her face horribly covered in concealer but if you were looking for something you could still see and Clarisse did, but not at first, she was coming up to you to bully you but than she saw the bruise and she got all upset and reader was confused because Clarisse always bullied her. Reader just brushed it aside and walked away but left her dagger at the table, so when Clarisse returned it she saw your boyfriend through the window smacking you in the face and she lost it. She didn’t even knock on the door she just bursted in and she didn’t want to make you upset so she grabbed you boyfriends arm and dragged him out to the forest and beat the living shit out of him. She ran back to see reader and comforted her and it ended up with both of them confessing their love for each other and maybe some fluff or smut towards the end, you choose! 💕💕

Thank you!!

Not talking bout boys

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Daughter of Aphrodite! Fem! Reader

An - yes reader has a bf them being a lesbian in the fic is important side note I have a smutty Abby fic and a cute fic for clarisse coming out on Valentine’s Day so look out for those two

CW - abusive relationships, dyke is used, religous trauma

Everyone knew who you were. You were a beautiful charming daughter of Aphrodite as well as the vice councilor for the Aphrodite cabin.

You were a sweet heart, always being the first to show the new kids around camp, ready to help settle disagreements and you were well known for being someone anybody could come to for relationship advice.

Ironic.

People would often tell you how much they wished they had a relationship like yours. Your boyfriend Logan a son of Athena. Brains and beauty that’s what everyone said about you.

Funny thing about people is that they never saw what happened behind closed doors. You tried not to blame him but it was hard not to.

Laying on the floor of the empty Aphrodite cabin your held yourself up with your hands, your tears dropping on the floor after he hit you, why? It could be for anything today however it was because you wore a too revealing top that attracted attention, attention that Logan didn’t like.

“Really?! How many times do I have to tell you to get it through your dumb fucking head huh?” Logan yelled at you, kneeling down he forced your head up. He glared at you for a moment before letting you go, grabbing you softly and hugging you. “I’m sorry baby” he kissed your shoulder.

“I’m sorry baby you know I don’t like hitting you but sometimes it’s the only thing I can do to get messages across” he frowned gently holding your face, his personality doing a complete 360 from before.

“I know” you whispered. Leaning into his touch you couldn’t help it. Something felt off however, his touch made you feel dirty and guilty, the furthest thing from love yet… yet you still forgave him and felt as though you needed him.

——

Days normally blured together, with mornings going normally with you slowly doing your makeup mainly because you wanted to look your best but also because you needed the extra time to cover the bruises — dozing off you hadn’t realized you used to little yellow concealer to hide the purple of the deep mark.

After about an hour you walked out of your cabin, walking towards the dining pavilion for breakfast. Being shoved to the side you watched as Clarisse softly laughed with her siblings clearly mocking you. “It’s impolite to not say excuse me” you softly spoke fixing yourself shirt.

Turning around she looked you up and down. You felt her gaze linger for a moment before turning more serious. “Go get your share I’ll catch up” she ordered at her siblings. Once they started to leave she harshly grabbed your chin turning it so your cheek was In direct sunlight. “The hell is this” she carefully examined the mark

“Nothing” confused you looked over at her slightly offended by the circumstances. “Besides why would you even care”

“Because I can— How the fuck did you get that bruise on your cheek? Someone deck you or something” she sarcastically laughed. Immediately you shook your head denying it. “No no I uh, I fell”

Clarisse looked down at you for a moment, taking her thumb she caressed the sensitive bruise. “Whatever… just be more careful” she let you go before leaving you alone, irritated and.. flustered?

——

You laid in bed looking up at the ceiling not able to think.

Reaching up to your chest you softly took the cross necklace, something your father had given you before you arrived at camp.

Thinking about your dad always brought bad memories, how he forced you into the church. The snobby kids and the religion forced down your throat. Not allowed to ask questions or question anything. But the thing that stuck with you the most was the treatment of gay people.

You personally had no problem with them, the gods themselves seem to be fine with homosexual relationships but… why did it always feel so weird to you. You knew things were different about you but this time you didn’t mean being a demigod.

The way you viewed your boyfriend vrs well.. clarisse of all people made you confused. When you were with Logan you didn’t feel the same butterflys as silena would constantly brag about getting with Charlie. When you kissed it felt forced, how his hands touched you it make you want to rip your skin out.

But..

How clarisse had grabbed your chin today… you rolled over and silently groaned into your pillow.

Clarisse the same girl that would shove you. The same girl that made fun of your archery skills and called you weak for being kind. The same girl that would gently run a hand around your waist when you were in line for food… clarisse the same girl, who looked at you differently from everyone.

Why did you feel like this, why did she out of everyone make you feel like an idiot, a love sick idiot at that.

You groaned once more into your pillow, not realize how loud you were until one of your sisters threw a throw pillow at your head telling you to sleep.

Laying back down on your back You Just looked back up at the soft pink ceiling. Sure you had always thought women were pretty, and while it was true you found yourself thinking about them how you should think about Logan— there was no way you were gay.. you had a boyfriend you were straight.

A straight girl

A… straight girl

——

A few days had passed.

You had been sitting inside the armory looking around as you waited for your daggers sheath to be repaired. Walking back you bumped into someone.

Before you could fall you felt a strong hand grab your waist, looking up you saw the curly haired girl who haunted your dreams.

“Watch where your going” she pushed you up helping you regain your balance.

You felt your cheeks turn red, “uh thank you” tucked some hair behind your ear embarrassed. Clarisse nodded taking note of your outfit of a camp shirt and shorts. She rolled her eyes. “Yeah whatever”

Charlie had decided to walk over finally “hey, sorry look were a little backed up but I can Promise your sheath will be fixed tonight alright?” He asked, You nodded before you could speak however clarisse scoffed “That’s bullshit, fix her sheath now”

“I just said i couldn’t”

“Whatever we both know it’ll take you five minutes—“

“It’s Fine Clarisse i don’t mind waiting” You looked up at her placing a hand on her forearm.

You smiled at Charlie as you walked out the armory. You left embarrassed by how clarisse had stood up for you, but also how you had touched her and how she allowed it.

Once you were gone Clarisse looked over noticing your dagger laying on the table. She swore you would loose your head if it wasn’t attached to your neck. “Fix her sheath now”

“Cl—“

“Did I stutter?”

——

You found yourself inside the Athena cabin with Logan while everyone else was at the bondfire, his siblings making teasing remarks as they left. He just shook his head before looking back at you. “Hey there sexy” he grinned, you stood between his legs with his hand on your thigh.

You cringed slightly but smiled. “Hey” playing with one of his blonde curls you felt his hand travel towards your ass. You grabbed his hand pulling it away “not today.. please I just really am not in the mood for it”

Logan rolled his eyes dramatically taking his hands off you and turning to face the books on his desk. “Of course” he complained.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You asked confused crossing your arms. “You know what it means— every-time we’re alone you don’t want to do shit I’m fucking over it, what’s the point of having a girlfriend if she doesn’t even want to make out with you”

“I’m just not that good of a kisser I—“

“Your a daughter of Aphrodite your good at everything love related, know what can you just stop with this bullshit” he stood up aggressively making you flinch back some. “Stop what” you looked down to afraid to meet his eyes.

Logan grabbed your chin harshly forcing you to look at him, it made you think back to clarisse how when she grabbed you it was almost gentle. You looked to the side and for a moment it was quiet, thinking he was done you heard Logan let out a scoff like laugh.

He pushed your head away. “Fuck you”

“What?”

“You know what you fucking slut.” He stepped towards you. “Can’t believe i didn’t realize it sooner” Logan continued to shake his head in disbelief. You tried to stand up for yourself but all you felt was a harsh slap met your cheek not even a moment later.

“Your disgusting, I see how you look at the other girls at camp— clarisse fucking la rue to be specific, I notice how you let your eyes wander on her, I bet you wish she was with you now huh?! I bet you wish she was the one who was kissing you huh?!” Logan tightly grabbed your face once again, tears brimming around your eyes. Trying to shake your head he just continued. “You disgust me- what would your dad think huh? To know his previous daughter was a fucking dyke

Logan jerked your head up forcing you to look at him before he hatefully kissed you.

It felt like forever, until you were suddenly dragged out the cabin. Looking up you saw clarisse having a tight hold on you.

It came back to you slowly, clarisse kicking open the door, shoving Logan into his bunk making him hit his head and now here where she started to take you across the camp

Her firm hold on your hand made you blush. It hurt how much you liked her and how much you knew you shouldn’t.

You watched as she yelled for everyone out of the ares cabin, letting out a string of offensives if anyone had something to say. Once they were gone it was quiet.

Clarisse led you to her bed setting you down gently before taking your face in her hands while examining the condition of you. “How Long” she mumbled.

“2 months after we got together” you quietly replied looking down. Clarisse pulled you into a hug, keeping a loving hold around you.

“I’m going to kill him” she tightened her grasp slightly, pulling away you shook your head “no, please I don’t want anyone knowing”

“Knowing how he treated you like shit”

“Knowing that I’m a fucking hypocrite clarisse!”You yelled, Clarisse kept quiet as this was the first time she’s heard you cuss. “Don’t you get it! How am I supposed to act if people find out that my entire relationship was toxic when im the one person most all people go to for love advice huh?! I’m a daughter of Aphrodite I’m supposed to be the person people admire! Imagine how embarrassing it’ll be to have people know I let my boyfriend hit me! And how the hell am I supposed to face anyone even my own father if they know im..” You choked on your tears leaning Into clarisse crying. She held you close not wanting to let go.

At this point you didn’t want to be anywhere else but in clarisses arms, where you didn’t feel forced or threatened you just simply felt loved.

——

You silently laid beside clarisse, just looking quietly into each-others eyes. Calmed down from your breakdown, You watched as she reached out fixing a piece of hair from your face. “..can I ask a question” she whispered. You nodded leaning some into her touch. “Are you.. are you gay”

After sone silence you nodded once again. “Yeah.. im not sure what I would be but.. I know for a fact I don’t like men” you admitted, a sense of anxiety washed over you. Clarisse continued to hold your face with an unreadable expression. “So a lesbian?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I guess so, I don’t really know much about queer identities anyways..”

“If You don’t like men Why did you bother to date Logan?” Her tone was sweet but confused. You couldn’t help but smile at the well known angry girl was now holding you with such care it made you feel butterflys. “I’m ashamed to be like this.. I’m not supposed to be a lesbian but I… am”

Before you noticed it, clarisse had leaned in kissing you. It was a quick kiss with her pulling away after a second. She muttered an apology while trying to leave, you however grabbed her before you could think bringing clarisse into another kiss, however this time it was longer and loving.

Sitting on your knees with your he daughter of ares fit in an awkward position you still continued to kiss her. Everything from before left your mind, how disgusting it felt up even kiss your boyfriend or now ex boyfriend, all you could think was how much you loved this girl.

Pulling away you kept your face close to clafisse. “I don’t understand.. I thought you hated me”

“Hated you.. really?!” She pushed back fixing her pose to be more comfortable. “I’ve been flirting with you this entire time”

“You Call shoving me around and calling me names flirting?”

“Yeah I—.. Look i don’t know shit about flirting but i thought it clear i liked you”

“No clafisse not at all” You laughed before moving to sit on the girls lap to kiss her. “Whatever it still worked Didnt it! Your here in my bed kissing me”

You lightly hit her with a smile. “I hate you”

“No you don’t” she laughed back kissing your cheek before looking at you, almost like she was trying to prove how much she loved you through just her eyes alone.

———

The following morning you had learned that Logan was currently in the infirmary with a long list of injuries you couldn’t even Name and your new girlfriend clarisse who was now being punished by Chiron. Aswell as the Ares cabin having a new found protective stance on the Aphrodite cabin

——

#lesbian #wlw #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #percy jackson fanfiction #clarisse x female reader #butch clarisse #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse x you #clarisse larue #percy jackson show #pjo fandom #pjo show #percy jackson

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cozycottagetarot · 5 months ago

Text

Why Did They Come Into Your Life?

How To Pick A Group:

Typically I recommend going with the image that you find you keep coming back to after giving each of the piles a once over.

Notes:

This reading will probably work best for anyone who you:

Feel a strong bond with and are curious about its significance.

Are seeking clarity on the role of a certain person might be playing in your life journey.

Potentially: Have encountered someone who left a lasting impression.

This reading is for entertainment purposes only. ✨

Content Warning: One of the piles did take on a bit of a heavier tone (not the person's presence, but your background) I've added a content warning explaining a little more at the beginning of it!

LINKS: Dividers | Reading Masterlist | Patreon | Paid Readings- Open

GIVEAWAY: Personal Reading Giveaway (June 2024) — Closed ✨

PILE 1

Cards: Seven of Spring, The Lovers, Ten of Summer, The Moon, Eight of Winter

This person could be...

This feels like you might be thinking of an ex (you’re on good terms with) and may still be a part of your life, a one-sided crush (as in you genuinely don't know if they feel the same), a friend… someone who has you captivated. This person did not break your heart or hurt you intentionally if that's an aspect of the relationship. Someone from in the last two years. If it’s someone current then… they’re very supportive of you— actively supportive. It doesn't feel like someone you’re currently in a relationship with but you think highly of them. If none of these fit then I’d say choose another pile.

I feel like this person came into your life to help you become the radiant version of yourself. They entered your life to help you find yourself, believe in yourself, and stand up for yourself. They came to bring you clarity and show you where your happiness lies. While this reading isn’t necessarily romantic, I'd still get the vibe it is/was even if I removed The Lovers. It feels like they have you under some sort of spell or have left a lasting impression on you. Music could be an important aspect here too... either they brought the music back into your life; maybe music is something you share, or they inspired you to pursue it in some format. This could be someone you thought you'd have a forever connection with (in some cases there's still hope for that), or if you know them now, there’s potential for a lifelong bond. You used to hold yourself back and hide from the world, but with this person's presence, you're now stepping out into it with full force.

They came to show you not to fear the unknown, but also to help you gain direction. The seven of spring (wands) would typically be followed by the eight of wands in the traditional tarot deck, which can signify sudden changes and actions. In this deck, the fairy on the card is in an action pose 🦸, symbolizing boldness and assertiveness. What I get from this is you’re gaining confidence and in turn everything is seemingly going to start happening at once. This person could also prevent you from standing in your own way (eight of winter).

In general, they offer you a lot of emotional support, which I feel you may really need at the moment. They make you feel loved and valued—this is someone you want in your life forever, and it feels like they will be, though this is a general reading. I think they also came to show you how to have a good time. This person might be a fling or short-lived but intense friendship, but even then, it’s the kind of experience where you'll reminisce about what you two had fondly and find yourself giggling about in old age.

PILE 2

This person could be...

Oh my gosh, I’m getting so many different things from this pile but overall I think you’ll like it.

This could be someone you knew as a kid or someone who makes you feel like a kid again. They are warm and loving. I’m getting a Cinderella situation or vibe here. Definitely some kind of monumental change or transformation is occurring or has occurred. The person you’re inquiring about could be someone you’re manifesting, and this reading has a heavily romantic tone. If that’s not what you’re looking for, consider a different pile. They could be with you or support you through a very dark time. There’s an emphasis on emotional connection, so if you don’t feel that bond and know it’s reciprocated in some formt, this might not be the group for you either.

This is someone you’ve been waiting for, or it feels like “your soul” has been waiting for. It’s hard to describe, but this person feels like a heart's wish. Whatever your long-term hopes for the future are, this person plays a role in them. For example, if you want a partner with a significant commitment, kids, and a fancy house (sorry, not the most imaginative at this moment), then this person is going to play a significant role in that.

With the card Release (traditionally Death), I feel like this person has come in when a cycle is over or very Very close to closing out, even if it doesn’t feel that way. I emphasize this because the fairy in the card is in a beautiful setting with shimmering lights above them and their eyes closed. I feel like that is you- you can’t see the transformation taking place… yet. There’s also the nine of summer (cups) following the card, where the images remind me of a coronation coupled with a fairy godmother’s transformation. So I feel like this person symbolises or marks that transition even if you don’t see it yet…. For some of you, I feel like this is still to come. I’m not fully sure how to describe what I’m picking up.

The future is being written out in small steps—steps so small you can’t tell. That’s not meant to scare you! I feel like you might be anxious about that at times. But you’re stepping into a new chapter with lovely rewards. It won’t be all sunshine and rainbows, but when you look back, you’ll remember the good times and how you overcame the bad rather than simply dwell on the bad.

I feel like good things are coming to you with this person. Messages like this can feel short, but there’s not much more to say other than congratulations. This person is loving, nurturing, chivalrous, and has a protective energy. I feel like you’ve lucked out.

I keep wanting to say I’m giving you a hug, but I see you’re already taken care of. ♥️

PILE 3

Cards: Four of Summer, Seven of Summer and King of Summer, Queen of Autumn, Life Experience

CW: I don't read about certain topics but will mention them if they come through strongly. This group briefly mentions substance use (in a sentence). There's also brief language 🙄. It's also a tough-love group...

In this group I talk about the person romantically but it can absolutely be any other kind of relationship. I did my best to include both. But if you pick this pile then you gotta stick with me because there are so many different messages in it— ready?

This reminds me of a tarot reading I watched on YouTube that mentioned being addicted to someone who has something physically or materially going for them but wasn’t emotionally available. Meanwhile, getting bored of the sweet, emotionally available, non-chaotic type of [person] that [you] need to balance you out… yeah... that’s the same vibe I’m picking up here. I was curious to see what cards would follow when the four of summer, seven of summer and king of summer came out, and as soon as I saw life experience (the tower) I immediately thought yup that's the vibe!

So there are two scenarios I’m picking up on here. This person is either the loving, emotionally available partner you need and deserve OR this person has f*ck boy (idk what the neutral term is) energy and can potentially lead you down a bad path. I kind of feel like this person whichever persona they are, they're here to push you to make a decision. In the imagery on the four of summer, there’s this child kind of like looking up pleading to an older person who is looking off into the distance. I feel like your inner child or some part of you might be begging you not to make dumb decisions. Sitting with the cards more, this person feels like they are more the 'king of cups' type mentioned above. But on your end, it's like the universe could be shining a big old spotlight on them with multiple arrows saying this person is good for you and you'd be like 'yeahhh but I want something different 🤪'. My love— don’t. It reminds me of the song Chaos Mode by DEZI. I feel like this person came into your life because you’re meant to elevate yourself and live to a certain standard (again wording, sorry) instead of repeating things that are going to leave you unstable.

I also feel like this person or type of person you go for can potentially lead you down a pathway of poor mental health and substance use and while I don’t read about substances/substance abuse if that resonates with you, please take the steps you need to get help/break out of that pattern.

You might also be overly picky. Especially if you’re into manifesting and adjacent practices. So if someone fits the bill of what you want but let’s say they don’t look like it by one detail— this person could be everything you’ve wished for personality-wise and everything you need. So it becomes a case of 'are you gonna let the good thing go because one detail is off or are you going to consider if it should legitimately be a dealbreaker'? And what I mean by little things is they look how you want minus a specific piercing or hair cut 🤨, that’s essentially what I get. Long story short, this person came in to make you make up your damn mind.

This person might not be forever either, but they may be the start. I think they’re also here to help you regain your focus on what’s important to you. I know I’ve been tearing into you this whole time (all out of love 🥰) but with the queen of autumn I feel like you have such a lovely personality and demeanour but someone or a certain set of people or event/s have distorted how you see yourself.

Overall, don’t be afraid to change and go after something better. I feel like you’ve been through something significant at some point and the person you’re inquiring about is acting as a guide to bring you to something better.

I’m sending you love, pile three 💕

PILE 4

Cards: Ego, Ten of Autumn, The High Priestess, Awakening, Nine of Autumn, Four of Autumn, Princess of Winter

This person kind of feels like they came into your life because they’re a messenger of some kind. They’re here to help aid, guide or set you on the right path to the long-term destination you seek. You’re not seeing yourself clearly right now or you’re not seeing something clearly.

They make you pause and question: Are you really in alignment? Your priorities may be off, but this person helps you get back into the right place to enjoy where you are now and what’s to come. This feels like someone who works in a profession helping others or has a safe energy to them, but at the same time, you feel wary about them. There’s an older energy to this person, or they may have been through something you’re going through and are trying to help. To summarize, they have a mentor energy.

This person has entered your life to help you trust your intuition and clear the lens through which you view life. I feel like your energy is slightly jaded, but at the same time, you may mirror each other, so it’s hard to tell which of you is rough around the edges. They might be slightly impersonal but wise. They help you do the work so you can enjoy the results. They may assist with how you view yourself and help you become more open and receptive to others.

I don’t know why, but I got an image of Scrooge—that’s what comes to mind. This person helps you go within, get clarity on one thing or another, revive you, and gain a new perspective.

#pick a card #pick a pile #pick a card reading #pac reading #pick a picture #pick a pile reading #pac #free reading tarot #cozycottagetarot #cozycottagetarot readings #tarotblr #pick an image #free tarot

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bengiyo · 3 months ago

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Ben's Big BL Blurb

I was traveling for a few weeks, and there's no way I'm doing individual posts for every show I've been watching, so here's my thoughts on all of the shows I'm currently enjoying, in the order I'm most enjoying them.

Twilight Out of Focus

This show is fucking excellent. I'm not that keen on taking a break from our leads to see other couples, but I do like that BL continues to be the way that these guys are figuring out they're attracted to each other. Mao moving so smoothly into his boyfriend era, and knowing how he's feeling, has been excellent. I also really loved Hisashi knowing they needed to not be together all the time.

The Trainee

Jane is so attractive, and I'm so happy for Off. This latest episode was a lot of fun to watch for Ryan, because it's nice seeing him be more actively engaged in things happening around him. Pai seems far more settled now that she knows she has a place. Pah is clearly still a mess. Tae seems like he's good at what he does. Ba-Mhee falling for Judy is NOT IDEAL, and Judy is over the line.

Overall, I'm actually interested in seeing them mirror interns crushing on their mentors with two different pairings as a point of comparison. I also like how every week feels like the work goals make sense.

The Miracle of Teddy Bear

Besties, so much is happening in this show. There is daddy drama, wife drama, dead son drama, and so much more! These episodes are so long, but I'm really engaged with everything happening on this show. Job and Inn are really fucking good in this.

I Hear the Sunspot

I'm so glad that Kohei made his feelings clear, and I'm enjoying seeing Taichi figure out how to respond to them. We once again had a camping trip that did not give me what I wanted, but I did like Kohei being clear that he's still interested in Taichi. Finally, I liked the little confirmations that Kohei is taking to sign, and that Taichi is interested in that journey.

Knock Knock, Boys!

I'm so proud of Best! He has played Peak in this restrained way for so long, and it paid off in this most recent episode. I love that this story started with a gay man running from himself and his feelings, who then realizes that he can't run away from people who care about him anymore because they won't let him. I love that everyone being patient with him gave him what he needed to finally accept himself and say what he needed. I've really loved the way Thanwa tries to support Peak.

I'm also overjoyed for Almond and Latte, and I need them to fuck nasty before this show ends or I will be so disappointed. Latte is quietly one of my blorbos of the year with the way he is always clear about who he is and what he wants even as he is okay with where Almond is in the moment. They're an excellent pair.

Ayaka is in Love with Hiroko

RISA IS OFF THE BESTIE LIST FOREVER! I will never forgive her for outing Hiroko to Ayaka just so she could ask Ayaka to choose her instead. Also, fuck those Bettys at the bar, who definitely know Hiroko's business, and that she's not out at work. Why talk about her to a stranger who called her senpai?? I'm relieved that Hiroko knows that Ayaka likes women now, and am curious how we move forward at this point.

I also need to know who this woman was who hurt Hiroko, because nothing makes me sadder than when we have to hide from other queers.

Mr. Mitsuya's Planned Feeding

Thanks to @isaksbestpillow I was actually able to start this on my trip. I didn't want to start a show on a trip, but I could not resist. I really love that Ishida is in his late 20s and struggling with direction and purpose after his initial plan blew up in his face. I love that he's recognized so quickly that he's developed feelings for Mitsuya-sensei, and I love that Mitsuya-sensei is open about who he is. It's about goddamned time that we saw an age gap story of this kind, because so many meaningful relationships I've had are with gay men older than me.

Takara's Treasure

This quiet little show makes me so happy every week. I just desperately need for Taishin to figure out what he's feeling, and for people to help him realize what he's feeling. Takara's my favorite kind of pretty boy: the ones who are obviously and poorly masking incredibly turmoil. I love that Taishin sees through this and wants to help Takara. Excited for him to get to take care of him when Takara gets sick.

Century of Love

I've been having a lot of fun with this show, but episode 8 felt like a huge wobble. I love that San was so committed to Vee the whole time, but the back and forth about the stone was tedious. San giving up the stone as a way to signify that he was over the memory of Vad was nice, but we didn't reconcile Vee's theft and the emotional cost of that.

Love Sea

MAHASAMUT!! WE FINALLY BEAT THAT NASTY OLD MAN'S ASS!! Mut trampling over a bullshit breakup and kicking Rak's dad's ass instead was so satisfying that it almost makes up for Mut having little identity outside of his relationship to Rake, or the terrible arc that Mook and Vie are having, over the last few weeks. I have been playing Stomp for the last few hours because I needed them to kick that man. Mut did not hit him enough.

New Shows

There's a bunch of stuff I have to sort out over the next few days. I'm not going back to My Love Mix Up TH, but I do plan to start 4 Minutes. There's also another J-BL in the grey I got some help finding called Sugar Dog Life.

Shout out to @lurkingshan for helping me watch a few things while I was gone, and also @twig-tea for keeping me apprised of which new shows I probably need to pick up.

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yikesmary · 11 months ago

Note

Hello

how about idol mingyu hypnotized by reader from the moment he sees her -you can choose where and how they meet- I just mingyu pining over her 💚

HYPNOTIZED — kim mingyu x reader

summary: where you've got seventeen's mingyu hypnotized, and he doesn't mind it one bit.

note: hey everyone🧍‍♀️

I don't know if I'm officially back, I just wanted to post something right before new years since I haven't posted since september and you guys deserve more than that. I might post here and there, but nothing too serious so don't expect me to come back with consistent posts. hope you guys enjoyed this though! <333

"We're going to be late, love!" Mingyu called out from outside of your room and you could practically hear him pace, as if he wasn't the guest of honor and the party couldn't exactly start without him and the other guys.

Dating an Idol wasn't at all like you expected—and you didn't even have any expectations in the first place. You had been introduced by Mingyu by Wonwoo, whom you had known for a couple of years now. Initially, you were a bit wary of going on the date, considering you've heard all kinds of stories from Wonwoo.

However, what won you over was how Wonwoo described Mingyu; 'the human version of a golden retriever'. Now, if anyone else said that, you wouldn't have believed them. However, this was Wonwoo, and the fact that he had said this with the most monotone voice ever and his face as serious as ever, so you just had to meet the guy that got Wonwoo to say such nice things about him.

You then went on one date with Mingyu and many more dates after that, until you guys started dating and eventually moved in together. The relationship wasn't totally public; while fans knew that Mingyu was dating (thanks to Dispatch, who had photographed you guys together, but your face was pretty well hidden), no one knew who he was dating specifically.

You supposed that it was a blessing in disguise that people knew Mingyu was dating but didn't know who it was. Most CARATs were happy that Mingyu had been dating, which you were happy to see since you didn't know how exactly they'd react when news first broke out.

Of course, there were some instances where people tried to sleuth and find out through various methods on who Mingyu was dating, but the two of you knew better and did everything you could in order to hide your relationship.

Those who know about your relationship have commented on how it must be hard dating someone like Mingyu, but you've told them that it was worth it and that you'd do it if it meant staying with Mingyu. Usually, you've said this with Mingyu not around, but the first time he heard it, you swore that he had never looked more in love than that moment.

"The car is waiting for us and— oh," Mingyu started to say, but had interrupted himself as he spotted you, who was fastening your heels.

You stood up and adjusted your dress accordingly, making sure that there were no wrinkles. You opened your mouth to say something, but there was no time as Mingyu quickly moved across your bedroom to you and captured you in a kiss.

Startled, you eventually kissed back once you realized what was happening. To balance yourself, you wrapped your arms around Mingyu's neck, your arms lightly touching his hair. Meanwhile, his hands went around your waist, pulling you closer.

You kiss for a few moments before you realize where you guys weren't, so you pull away. "I thought we were going to be late," you said, a bit breathless at the kissing.

"Did I say that? Now that I think about it, I don't have to attend. There's 13 of us, they wouldn't notice if I was missing," Mingyu said before trying to kiss you again, but you stopped him, making him pout.

"Nope, you've already used that excuse. Remember when you thought you could not attend an award show to spend the day with me and Seungcheol noticed? The guys didn't let that go for a whole month," you scolded him, this time pulling fully away from him.

"I'll take the fall for it, let's just stay home," Mingyu practically begged, but you weren't having it.

"How about the driver?" you countered, moving away in order to get your bag.

"I was going to pay him anyways, and I'll give him a tip or something," he shrugged.

"We're still going,"

As you and Mingyu walked towards the front door, Mingyu albeit walking slightly slower than you since he was sulking, he abruptly blocked the front door, stopping you in your tracks.

"Gyu, we're going to be late, like you said. You can't resort to using your strength to stop us, no matter attractive I think it is," you retorted.

"You think I'm attractive?"

"Of course you are! Look at you!" You exclaimed, gesturing to the entirety of him.

Mingyu blushed but grabbed one of your hands to pull you closer to him. "Did I tell you that you look beautiful today?" He asked, putting your face in between his hands gently, making sure he didn't mess up your make up.

"Just today?" you teased.

"Well, you look beautiful every day. And all the days after that,"

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#seventeen fluff #mingyu fluff #kim mingyu fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu x reader #seventeen scenarios #svt x reader #mingyu fic #mingyu scenario #mingyu imagines #seventeen mingyu #seventeen reactions

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carpe-mamilia · 1 year ago

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Ghosts’ Larry Rickard Explains Why They Chose the Captain’s First Name

Photo: Monumental,Guido Mandozzi

It couldn’t be a joke. That was one rule laid down by the Ghosts creators when it came to choosing a first name for Willbond’s character. Until series five, the WWII ghost had been known only as The Captain – a mystery seized upon by fans of the show.

“It was the question we got asked more than anything. His name,” actor and writer Larry Rickard tells Den of Geek. “Once we got to series three, you could see that we were deliberately cutting away and deliberately avoiding it. We were fuelling the fire because we knew at some point we’d tell them.”

In “Carpe Diem”, the episode written by Rickard and Ben Willbond that finally reveals The Captain’s death story, they did tell us. After years of guessing, clue-spotting and debate, Ghosts revealed that The Captain’s first name is James. At the same time, we also learned that James’ colleague Lieutenant Havers’ first name was Anthony.

The ordinariness of those two names, says Rickard, is the point.

“The only thing we were really clear about is that we didn’t want one of those names that only exists in tellyland. It shouldn’t be ‘Cormoran’ or ‘Endeavour’. They should just be some men’s names and they’re important to them. The point was that they were everyday.”

Choosing first names for The Captain and Havers was a long process not unlike naming a baby, Rickard agrees. “It almost comes down to looking at the faces of the characters and saying, what’s right?”

“We talked for ages. For a long time I kept thinking ‘Duncan and James’, and then I was like ah no! That would have turned it into a gag and been awful!” Inescapably in the minds of a certain generation, Duncan James is a member of noughties boyband Blue. “Maybe with Anthony I was thinking of Anthony Costa!” Rickard says in mock horror, referencing another member of the band.

Lieutenant Havers wasn’t just The Captain’s second in command while stationed at Button House; he was also the man James loved. Because homosexuality was criminalised in England during James’ lifetime, he was forced to hide his feelings for Anthony from society, and to some extent even from himself.

In “Carpe Diem”, the ghosts (mistakenly) prepare for the last day of their afterlives, prompting The Captain to finally tell his story. Though not explicit about his sexual identity, the others understand and accept what he tells them – and led by Lady Button, all agree that he’s a brave man.

Getting the balance right of what The Captain does and doesn’t say was key to the episode. “It wasn’t just a personal choice of his to go ‘I’m going to remain in the closet’,” explains Rickard. “There wasn’t an option there to explore the things that either of them felt. That couldn’t be done back then – there are so many stories which have come out since the War about the dangers of doing that.

“We wanted to tell his personal story but also try to ensure that there was a level at which you understood why they couldn’t be open, that even in this moment where he’s finally telling the other ghosts his story, he never comes out and says it overtly because that would be too much for him as a character from that time.

“He says enough for them to know, and enough for him to feel unburdened but it’s in the fact that they’re using their first names which militarily they would never have done, and in the literal passing of the baton”.

The baton is a bonus reveal when fans learned that The Captain’s military stick wasn’t a memento of his career, but of Havers. As James suffers a fatal heart attack during a VE day celebration at Button House, Anthony rushes to his side and the stick passes from one to the other as they share a moment of tragic understanding.

“From really early on, we had the idea that anything you’re holding [when you die] stays with you. So it wasn’t just your clothes you were wearing, we had the stuff with Thomas’ letter reappearing in his pocket and so on. And the assumption being that it was something The Captain couldn’t put down, it felt so nice to be able to say it was something he didn’t want to put down.”

Rickard lists “Carpe Diem”, co-written with Ben Willbond, among his series five highlights. He’s pleased with the end result, praises Willbond’s performance, and loved being on set to see Button House dressed for the 1940s. He’s particularly pleased that a checklist of moments they wanted to land with the audience all managed to be included. “Normally something’s fallen by the wayside just because of the way TV’s made, it’s always imperfect or it’s slightly rushed, but it feels like it’s all there.”

Rickard and Willbond also knew by this point in the show’s lifetime, that they could trust Ghosts fans to pick up on small details. “Nothing is missed,” he says. “Early on, you’re always thinking, is that going to get across? But once we got to series five, there are little tiny things within corners of shots and you know that’s going to be spotted. Particularly in that very short exchange between Havers and the Captain. We worried less about the minutiae of it because you go, that’s going to be rewound and rewatched, nothing will be missed.”

The team were also grateful they’d resisted the temptation to tell The Captain’s story sooner. “We’d talked about it every series since series two, whether or not now was the time, but because he’s such a hard and starchy character in a lot of ways you needed the time to understand his softer side I think before you had that final honest beat from him.”

“What a ridiculously normal name to have so much weight put on it for five years,” laughs Rickard fondly. “Good old James.”

From Den of Geek

#bbc ghosts #bless you larry for doing all these den of geek interviews #I wonder if they just did one marathon session with him #inside ghosts was kind of disappointing this week #I guess Ben just wants to let the episode speak for itself and you're like yes but I would like to hear you talk about every detail #trust me we will be interested #long post #I really thought they loved the joke of nearly saying the Captain’s name so much that they'd never reveal it #so it's so lovely that they were like no this is not a joke name; he's a real man with an ordinary name #and we are going to tell you that in the most devastatingly romantic way #I am eating my words and they are delicious with that spread on top #also 'that's going to be rewound and rewatched' = 'I know you people are loopy so here is content specifically for you'#bbc ghosts spoilers

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foreverunraveling · 1 year ago

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From Simon's perspective, this scene had to be incredibly eye-opening. Wille is fully surrounded with the choir behind him, the press to his right, classmates and alumni to his left, his parents and the royal court straight ahead. Guards and faculty are lurking. He's fully exposed with nowhere left to hide.

And Simon, standing in the choir right behind the podium, can finally see from Wille’s perspective. He can feel the eyes of the queen and the royal court. The principal. And it’s terrifying. The frame switches from a shot of the Queen and the royal court looking at Wille expectantly to a nervous Simon, who is absorbing the gaze. All of their classmates are looking and the press are preparing for their shots. He understands the pressure that Wille has been under.

Somewhere inside, Simon feels like he was incredibly foolish to ever expect Wille to face up to all of this for him. He eyes queen’s teary-eyed smile at the mention of Erik. Feels more than sees the levers on which the Queen could pull to change Wille's mind. And then Simon sees the Queen and August exchange a look when Wille goes off script.

When Wille is finally honest, the gestures coming from the Royal court, together with all of the camera flashes, startle Simon. Their friends, even, are staring. Simon freezes. There are so many cameraphones—is the entirety of the third year class filming?

And Wille just did that for him. Simon finally understands the weight of what he's been asking Wille to do this entire time—understands that Wille didn’t do what he did because he didn’t love Simon, but because he was in an impossible position. Which he just made impossible for himself for Simon. Even though Simon didn't even ask him to; Simon just told Wille that he's wiling to be a secret.

Wille does this because he knew that’s what Simon needs. He faces up to all of this horrifying pressure and attention and relentless examination for Simon. Because he can't let Simon sacrifice himself—his unflappable self-worth, his honesty, his integrity—to go into hiding with Wille. As much as that's exactly what Wille thought he wanted. And he does this right in the moment where it becomes obvious to Simon why Wille did things the way he had. Simon understands exactly what it means that Wille is willing to face up all of this for him.

Then the song comes in with, "And you loved me; I could feel it." Because Simon realizes just how fucking much Wille loves him to go through with this in the face of the monarchy, the press, their peers, the fucking world. Even after Simon takes off all of the pressure on his side and agrees to remain a secret, Wille chooses the parts of Simon that Simon himself was willing to give up over the easy choice. Wille isn't choosing himself in this decision—he's not even choosing himself and Simon, who will inevitably face blowback in the aftermath—he's just choosing Simon. The truest version of Simon who he fell in love with.

I'm very new to this fandom, so this has probably been pointed out before. I just can't stop watching the show....

#simon × wilhelm #young royals #wilmon #young royals season 2 #young royals netflix #young royals analysis

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queenimmadolla · 1 year ago

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its maiiisssie 💖💖

so the first time penny’s hair is long enough to put in bunches eddie melts on the spot, wants to cry, his baby is too fucking cute, he wants another one

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐝!𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 ♡

𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒅!𝒆𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆

“Hold still, baby.” Eddie quipped around the little scrunchy clenched between his teeth. The baby between his lap did not easily comply, she had no idea what he was saying as she let out squeals. In her hand was a set of toy keys that had gained her favor in the last few weeks, and there was nothing Penny enjoyed more than bashing them into whatever surface she was sat on–in this case, the couch–except, maybe sticking the brightly colored plastic keys in her mouth.

Eddie much preferred that over trying to pry his keys out of her strong armed, six month-old grip. She cried something fierce every time he was successful (so always) which led to Eddie getting her her own pair. So long as she didn’t see his, or yours, they worked like a charm.

Eddie’s thighs got a little firmer around her to keep her from wiggling as he used the brush to gently guide her short curls, wet from a spray bottle, into place. It was a feat, Penny’s curls were all the same length now that she had actual curls instead of the wavy hair all newborns seemed to come with, meaning there weren't many ways it could be styled other than slicking it down. And it wasn’t yet thick enough to hold the weight of a bow so you'd taken to putting ones that came with a headband on her instead.

After a late start to the morning, you’d gotten started on the laundry while Eddie got Penny ready for the day and after putting her in a cute little outfit you'd picked out for her (it was the most adorable little dress that didn’t hide her leg rolls and those socks with frilly lace, even though she pulled off any socks you put on her–Eddie couldn’t stop cooing to her about how cute she was for a good ten minutes, and he was still making comments). Now, having missed your presence, he’d moved the next step in her routine to the livingroom to be closer to you.

While you were sitting on the floor, folding laundry onto the coffee table, Eddie was doing her hair, a sight your gaze constantly flickered back to. He was your husband and your baby daddy, yet somehow you were still vulnerable to the sight of him with a baby. A kryptonite.

Eddie’s attention was focused on the task at hand, brows pinched as he concentrated. He’d been trying this for a while now, and he always fell short.

Today was looking to be the day he and Penny didn’t. As he brushed her hair from the bottom to the top, it all just slowly fell, not yet long enough to reach. But the top stayed, in fact, he was able to gather a good amount of it there and he pinched it in place between his thumb and forefinger. He dropped the brush onto the cushion next to him and reached up to grab the small scrunchy from his mouth before he carefully looped it around the hair he’d sectioned off, twisted it, and looped one final time.

Then Eddie sat back against the couch to marvel at the tiniest ponytail he’d ever seen, sticking straight up like those little troll dolls with the ends curling.

Penny seemed to choose that moment to become self aware and she craned her little body around in search of her dad, probably wondering why he’d stopped fiddling with her hair.

When she finally found him–still exactly in place–her entire face lit up, drooly mouth parting to show off her gums in a wide smile as her eyes squinted.

Eddie lost it.

“YOU ARE THE MOST ADORABLE THING THIS PESSIMISTIC SCHMUCK HAS EVER SEEN!” He bellowed, scooping her up. Eddie launched an aggressive raspberry attack to where she was currently most ticklish, her neck. He alternated between them and pressing kisses to her chunky cheek while she squealed with laughter as she tried, and failed, to raise her little shoulders in an effort to stop his tickles–though it was obvious to Eddie with the way she’d lower her shoulders immediately after he stopped that she wanted the tickling to continue.

Eddie’s booming declaration had surprised you, nearly causing you to toss up the pair of sweats you’d been folding but you managed to quickly regain your composure and your baby’s mystical laughter soon had you joining in on it too. The sight alone had you grinning from ear to ear, heart doing somersaults in your chest as Eddie cradled Penny to him, letting up to fool her into thinking he was done before he planted more raspberries on her while she giggled like a hyena.

When he caught you staring, he sat her back up on his lap facing your direction, “Look, honey! Look!”

You let out an amused scoff, hand reaching up to cover your mouth.

Penny was now beaming at you, pretty brown eyes almost hidden because she was doing her hard smile which had her cheeks pressing up into her eyes. She looked so precious in her little dress but it was the teeny tiny ponytail sprouting on her head that caught your attention.

Had it been on anyone other than a baby, it would have been a very pathetic attempt at one but considering how limited you were when styling your baby’s hair…a win is a win.

“Oh my goodness, you are such a pretty little thing!” you cooed, setting aside the laundry to push yourself up.

Eddie held her out to you and the moment she was in your arms, you were smothering her cheek with kisses, freehand on the other side of her face to keep her in place.

You pulled back to admire the little bunch of hair and then went right back to kissing and cuddling her. It was cuteness overload, she was in your arms, curled up to you and you still couldn’t get enough of her. It was like you wanted to absorb her back into your body but that would make you sad because then you wouldn’t have her in your arms.

You pulled away after one last (it wouldn’t be the last) smacking kiss to her cheek before addressing her as you handed her back to Eddie, “Ma’am, did you know it’s actually a federal offense to be this cute?”

Of course, she didn’t respond with words, eyes sparkling up at you as she babbled and grunted. You loved that she was trying to talk to you. It was obvious to both you and Eddie that she’d be talkative once she got the hang of words.

Eddie twirled the wee ponytail around his finger just as you spotted the mirror hanging on the hallway wall and like a moth to flame, you were over to it and back with it, poised in front of Eddie and Penny. Her smile somehow managed to expand as she caught sight of their reflections.

Eddie chuckled, as she gripped his shirt over his shoulder, “Is that you? Is that you, pretty girl? Is that daddy’s baby?”

Penny’s eyes would dart between his and her reflection but Eddie’s warm gaze stayed focused on hers. He smirked as he observed her get shy, giving their reflections one hard, gummy smile before she was wiggling like a live wire in his arms and hiding her face in his neck.

You both started cooing and she pried herself away from her hiding space to smile again at the both of you before she ‘hid’ herself.

After hanging the mirror back up, you plopped onto the couch and Eddie freed an arm for you to settle under, head resting on his chest as you offered Penny her keys and her pacifier.

She took them both eagerly, babbling before shoving the pacifier in her mouth. Then Penny shook the keys by the ring, yanked the pacifier out and shoved the plastic ring in her mouth, instead.

You both watched her with reverence, bliss wrapping around the moment and promising to be a memory you’d look back on.

“It’s growing a little.” Edde stated and you craned your head up to look at him from beneath your lashes. His face and demeanor were suddenly so melancholic.

You had no idea her lack of hair length had such an affect on him, “It’ll grow more, it just takes a while for hers to show since it’s curled. Aren’t you glad we didn’t listen to my mom–what did she say again? Shaving Penny’s head would make it grow faster?”

“No, baby, I mean her hair is growing.” You blinked up at him without bothering to hide your confusion so he continued. “She’s growing. Pretty soon, I won’t have a baby anymore and those toy keys are gonna be real keys to a car she’s gonna pack up and then she’ll be leaving us in the dust.”

You’d been pretty good at dodging postpartum depression, looks like Eddie hadn’t.

“Oh, Eds, don’t make yourself sad, baby. Yes, she’s growing and it’s bittersweet, I’m sure it’ll never feel like we have enough time, but watching her grow is a pivotal part of our lives. Besides, she has to learn how to walk before she can leave us.”

Eddie’s head rested on yours with a hearty sigh, “Feels like just last week we brought her home, this little bundle of everything good. Tiny fingers, always sleeping and eating, spitting up like half of your milk every time we burped her and when her poop didn’t stink because all she consumed was milk. I miss all that.”

You were both silent as you stared at your baby, taking in the present while also reminiscing the past. You missed when she was that small, too. Her baby sounds, soft breathes, high pitched grunting, the baby scrunch she’d do whenever you picked her up, how she’d almost instantly relax against your breast the moment you started feeding her, eyes slipping shut as she nursed and her baby smell. Holding her on your chest as you rocked her to sleep, nose settled into her soft hair so her scent could fill you had been one of your favorite things to do.

“Have you seen the way she rocks herself when she pushes off of her tummy? She’s getting ready to crawl.” You mused and you felt Eddie sag under you. When you looked up, his head was lulled to the side, eyes closed with his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth. One eye pried open to make sure you were watching him.

“You see me? You see what you did?” Eddie went back to playing dead, “You just killed me.”

You rolled your eyes, fond of the big goofball you’d married as you returned your stare back to your baby girl, your head nuzzling against his chest while Eddie continued.

“Why would you tell me that, doll? You just heard me complaining about my baby growing up and you’re just gonna shoot me while I’m down? Why do you want to hurt me so badly? Huh?”

“I’m just saying you can’t stop her from growing up.” You laughed, swatting his hand away from where it poked at your side, “It’s all happening, baby.”

Eddie let out another sigh, this one defeated but there was a glint in his eyes that immediately made you suspicious.

“You’re right, you’re right. Newborn days are over. Until I put another one in you.”

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gazeofseer · 2 months ago

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Direction of light to the browns of your life (;

Browns, what grounds you and what burns

You, deeply underneath too.

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Pick a Image

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Image.1

Fatalist is term used for the one who confuses the go with the flow to become prone to act or intent and choosing not to play which will keep them under the fate, is a state of your fear, dear.

Instances of yours : You so badly wanted to take a decision about something quite recently but you step back and waited for the fate to decide for you, but you got more confused now that a week has passed because your fear covers non existential ideologies to appease your mind's guess.

You are a damsel but not in distress but in the capture of your mind's vivid imaginary and illusions that seems like a vision but is not, remember this is the world of manifestation whatever comes here is a by product of your state of being not of your state of reactions and idealism, it is birth out of your actual reality.

So there is a lot of confusions now, to clear which you need to seek your intentions do you really intent towards what your presume to be your purpose? Question that bloody dream does it dares to manifest when you will fail or will it vanish like a delusion you just had to gauge your mind off the bait?

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Image.2

Overthinking is not a disease it is a power of your discipline that flow of thoughts you find a way out of your head quite smart right? Quite logical and prideful to feel right as always, but where do you hide those wrongs, those mistakes, that makes you feel like sinner to do so? You don't strive for perfection, you actually like one, great pretentious can be a great tool unless it becomes wavering, unsettling and making high while feeling the lowest in this moment right?

So much of right, I hear a feminine voice with chuckles shows how confident you are about everything you have, and the way you identify yourself with things, but when you endear it as an experience it's annoying, you start nitpicking, for your thoughts it found a flow in your mouth that you keep bickering, playing to some extent, what leaves bitter in this after all? Is the distance you feel within your authenticity and a convincing truth you lied around about.

You are not sad, not in pain, not in guilt or even regret you are disappointed in yourself, for the way you feel, for the way your head takes over all your heart like a devouring death you smile upon.

You need to really, really stop giving value attention, to your thoughts it's mere exertion of your senses let that go liar are those who say you become what you think, you become what you believe in, you become what you feel like is the mere intuition's guide.

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Shed many scales left my scars, even broken the light from the star I held so tightly underneath the sight of wars I had, battles I am fed with, all I could ever be is tired even with the best of the person, I had to feel sorrow and pitful, like an aftermath I stayed in people but with a different story to state of torns, I don't know anything, but I always told about everything, I lend hands and ears, and get rewarded with swords and screams.

Warrior, My champion how does it feel to be your very own thing? Great right then what is the guilt lying in there? There is a cobweb of perception you have crawled your mind through break that, your giving too much importance to the words of others getting absorbed in take your time alone and chose silence sometimes words must fail you so you can see what people mean was truly never about you but the way they feel, they want, they need about you. Do not get into the play of says and opinions they are void. Anyways you have strong instincts and intuition you either way don't need that.

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#wisdom #divination #divine guidance #pyschic reading #gratitude #pick a pile #pick a card #tarot reading

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embbarnes · 1 month ago

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Orange Guts.

summary: Pumpkin carving with Bucky.

warnings: Fluff | Slight nostalgic angst but only brief.

a/n: 'Tis the fucking season. It's getting closer to Halloween, and my vacation yayy. It's my favorite time of the year so yes I want to celebrate with Bucky. I don't care if pumpkin carving is considered 'childish' I will carve a damn pumpkin every year until the day I die. Shorter than normal, just a little fun drabble while I work on bigger pieces. Unedited, I plan to go over this later and fixing any mistakes. ;; wc: 3.4k

"So, are you planning to put those impressive knife skills to good use today?" you inquired with a hint of excitement in your voice. Your eyes carefully scanned the array of pumpkins laid out before you, each one a potential canvas for your autumnal artistry. Bucky stood patiently by your side, dutifully holding your steaming cup of coffee as you meticulously examined the various gourds.

Your hands moved from one pumpkin to another, gently caressing their surfaces, feeling for imperfections and assessing their potential. You were determined to find the perfect pumpkin, one that would serve as the ideal medium for your intricate carving designs. The process of selection was almost as important as the carving itself, and you took your time, knowing that the right pumpkin would make all the difference in the final product.

Bucky couldn't help but smirk as he observed your meticulous examination of the pumpkins. The way you scrutinized each pumpkin, one might think you were disarming a bomb rather than selecting a canvas for a jack-o-lantern. He found your careful, precise approach endearing, much different from the casual attitude most people adopted towards pumpkin picking. But it was you, one of your many traits he really loved. You had these little quirks he thought was adorable, and picking pumpkins happened to be one of them.

Bucky recalled how seriously you took this annual tradition from last year, you had just begun dating last fall, nothing too serious yet, but bonded enough to spend a lot of time together.

Last year's memory was still fresh in his mind as he let himself think back. The way some of the team members had playfully teased you about your intense focus on pumpkin selection. He remembered how their light-hearted jabs had unexpectedly upset you, your enthusiasm momentarily dampened by their lack of understanding and relentless teasing. Bucky hadn’t said anything like everyone else, but he noticed your reserved behavior for the rest of the time in town with everyone. He felt bad seeing your joy get crushed, he hadn’t seen you so excited before, only for it to be teased into hiding.

Bucky never wanted you to feel like you had to hide things that you were excited for, so he made an effort to ask you how to pick a pumpkin and continued to show interest just to get you back on your feet. This year, is was just the two of you, and of course dearest Alpine in the cart. No one to tease you. If anyone did, a simple stare from him is enough to shut them up.

"Sure, doll," Bucky said, his voice warm with affection. "I'm more than happy to cut the top of whichever pumpkin you choose. But," he added with a self-deprecating chuckle, "My artistic skills might not be up to par when it comes to the actual drawing part. That's where your expertise will have to take over."

As he spoke, the aroma of your fall-flavored coffee wafted towards him. Bucky's nose crinkled slightly, his reaction a mix of curiosity and mild aversion. The concept of seasonal coffee flavors was still somewhat foreign to him, he was used to plain, black coffee.

While he could appreciate the warm, spicy notes of cinnamon, nutmeg, and pumpkin spice in baked goods and desserts, the idea of infusing these flavors into coffee left him uncertain. He pondered for a moment, trying to reconcile his love for traditional, straightforward coffee with these modern, festive concoctions. "Eh," he thought to himself, "I'm not entirely convinced about these flavored coffees. Give me a simple, strong brew any day."

"How do you know you don't like it if you've never tried it?" You quipped back, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. Turning to look at him from your knelt position, you stuck your tongue out at him, your eyes twinkling with mischief.

"You sound exactly like my mom," he retorted, rolling his eyes in an exaggerated manner, though the corners of his mouth twitched upwards. "Word for word, I swear. It's like she's here lecturing me about trying new things." He paused, eyeing the steaming cup of coffee warily. "Fine, I'll give it a shot, but don't expect me to suddenly become a pumpkin spice enthusiast."

With a theatrical sigh, the damn sassy man he was, he slowly brought the cup to his lips, the lid barely touching them as he hesitated. He finally took a small, tentative sip. You watched intently as he let the maple liquid swirl on his tongue, allowing it to cool slightly before swallowing. His face contorted into a series of expressions, curiosity, surprise, and then... a slight cringe.

"Ah..." he began, his voice a mix of disappointment and amusement. You could tell he didn’t like it, but was trying so hard to be nice about it. "I hate to say it, sweetheart, but pumpkin coffee is definitely not my cup of tea - or coffee, in this case." He set the cup down in the cart’s cup holder gently, shaking his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you shelled out five whole bucks for this, it's like autumn decided to punch me in the taste buds. You know, when I was a kid, five bucks would’ve gotten an entire feast for our family, plus some change. And you spent it on bad tasting coffee."

"Hey! Pumpkin spice coffee is absolutely delicious! You're just accustomed to the plain, ordinary variety," you retorted back with enthusiasm, your eyes lighting up as you held up a large, flawlessly shaped pumpkin. "Look what I've found! The proportions are perfect, any of its sides could be used for carving a face, and its size is just right!" You couldn't contain your excitement and pride as you carefully placed the prized pumpkin into the shopping cart, treating it as if it were a precious treasure.

Alpine, ever curious, leaned forward from her cozy carrier, her furry head poking out just enough to investigate the new addition to your shopping haul. Her little pink nose twitched as she thoroughly sniffed the pumpkin, seeming to conduct her own quality inspection.

"Well, would you look at that? She approves," you said with a triumphant smirk, reaching over to gently scratch Alpine's chin. Your eyes were drawn to the bright orange collar adorning her neck, its intricate design of pumpkins, bats, and colorful candy wrappers peeking through her silky, well-groomed fur. "You know, I'm so glad I bought you that pretty collar for the holidays," you mused, admiring how the accessory complemented Alpine's natural beauty. "It really brings out the sparkle in your eyes, doesn't it, girl?"

"I draw the line at costumes," Bucky commented, only slightly serious. Maybe he'd let you put her in a costume, maybe not. He wasn't sure yet.

Alpine purred contentedly as you gently scratched her chin, her eyes drifting closed in a state of pure relaxation. The cat's entire body seemed to melt into your touch, the level of comfort and trust she felt in your presence was obvious. Bucky watched the scene unfold with of amusement and amazement, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he observed you lavishing attention on the notoriously finicky feline, that spoiled cat of his was very picky with people.

"I swear, I'll never understand how you do it, doll," Bucky remarked, shaking his head in disbelief. "She absolutely adores you, she pretty much can't stand anyone else who comes within ten feet of her. It's like you've got some kind of magical touch or something." He let out another small chuckle as he watched his beloved cat nuzzle her head into your palm.

You glanced up at Bucky with a playful smirk, your fingers still working their magic on Alpine's chin and ears. "What can I say? It's not rocket science, you know. Nothing some of toys, treats, and fresh food won't accomplish." You hummed softly, "Plus, a little patience and understanding goes a long way."

You pulled your hand away from Alpine, earning a small chirp of disappointment from the cat. "Just a little longer princess," you smiled at her and looked back up a Bucky, "There's one more pumpkin we need, and then we can call it a day."

The kitchen counter had been prepared with a layer of protective paper, you wanted to try to preserve as much of the mess as possible. You carefully positioned the two large, plump pumpkins atop the paper, their orange surfaces gleaming as your mind raced with possibilities for your own design. Each carving tool laid neatly at each side, arranged and ready for use. You set two large bowls down to collect the seeds, stringy innards, and any excess pumpkin pieces that would be carved away during the process. You exhaled, finally done with the prep.

Bucky, seated comfortably at one of the kitchen chairs, gazing at the pumpkin you had specifically chosen for him. His eyes roamed over its surface, taking in every detail of the gourd before him. It was, without a doubt, a pumpkin of exceptional quality - perfectly round and symmetrical, with a smooth, unblemished skin that seemed to invite touch. The stem atop the pumpkin was curled elegantly and trimmed to a short, safe length, free from any potentially prickly protrusions.

"So," he ventured, his voice a mixture of eagerness and slight hesitation, "I start with cutting a hole in the top, right?"

"Don't tell me you've never carved a pumpkin before," you commented with a hint of amusement in your voice as you settled down next to him. You pulled your own pumpkin closer, positioning it comfortably in front of you. "There's a bit of technique to it, you know. You've got to cut at an angle when you're making the top opening. That way, when you put the lid back on after you're done carving, it doesn't just fall right inside. It's a little trick that makes a big difference. A lot of people don’t put enough of an angle."

Bucky's eyebrows furrowed slightly, a mix of concentration and mild indignation crossing his features. "Of course I have," he retorted, his voice carrying a touch of defensiveness. "It's just... well, it's been a while. Been sort of out of it for seven decades, if you remember." His words carried a weight of history, hinting at his painful past. Despite this, he reached for one of the carving knives with determination, his movements precise and controlled.

You watched as Bucky approached the task with the same focus he applied to everything. That cute knit in his brow, the way his eyes squinted as he formed tunnel vision on the pumpkin. He penetrated the thick skin of the pumpkin with ease, his enhanced strength making the job look effortless. True to your advice, he carefully cut at an angle with his right hand, creating a smooth, circular opening at the top.

You set to work on your own pumpkin, your cuts were slightly less refined than Bucky's, but you managed to create a serviceable opening nonetheless. A sense of accomplishment washed over you as you surveyed your handiwork. "Look at us," you said with a grin, "We've both got our pumpkins opened up now. Not bad, coming off seven decades, huh?"

Bucky smiled as he pulled the top off, “No, it’s not. Easy, actually. I’m just worried my face is going to come out funny looking.”

“That’s the point, silly. It doesn’t have to be perfect. It’s a pumpkin carving, the goofier or sillier, the better.”

Preparing to scoop out the insides, a childhood memory surfaced through your mind when your fingers touched the cool insides. "You know," you began, your voice taking on a nostalgic tone, "My younger brother used to be so scared of touching the inside of the pumpkin. He'd make all sorts of faces and noises when it came time to clean it out." Your hand disappeared into the pumpkin as you spoke, emerging with a fistful of slimy, stringy pumpkin guts. The cool, slippery texture brought back a flood of autumn memories to past carvings.

The callback to simpler times made Bucky crack another smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine amusement. "Really?" he asked, clearly entertained by the mental image of a young you and your squeamish brother.

"Oh yeah, he'd freak out," you confirmed with a chuckle. "He flat-out refused to touch the inside. I had to clean it out for him, or one of my parents would do it. But he did eventually grow out of it, though it took him quite a while. I think he was already a teenager by the time he finally got over it and scooped out his own pumpkin."

You paused for a moment, your hands stilling in their task as you found yourself lost in the bittersweet nostalgia of those memories. The laughter, the warmth, the sense of togetherness - it all felt so vivid yet so distant.

"It's strange how things change," you mused, your voice softening. "Back then, pumpkin carving was this big family event. We'd all gather around the kitchen table, newspapers spread out to catch the mess, competing to see who could create the scariest or funniest face. Now... well, we all have our own busy lives. We're scattered in different directions, each caught up in our own world."

A wistful sigh escaped your lips as you resumed your task, your movements more deliberate now. "Sometimes, I wish I could go back, you know? Just for a day. To feel that simplicity, that closeness again. Does that make sense?"

"Doll, if anyone understands wanting to go back, it's me," Bucky replied, his own hands now covered in slimy pumpkin guts. He scooped out a handful and tore out the seeds, letting them drop into the bowl with a soft patter. His eyes, filled with a mixture of nostalgia and resignation, met yours. "I think about that too, all the time. Seeing my family again... hearing their voices, feeling my mom's hugs. But deep down, I know it's just a dream. You can't change time, no matter how much we might wish we could."

There was a profound beat of silence between the two of you, as memories of a better time washed over you both like a bittersweet tide. Your minds wandered back to the warmth of family life, to the simple joys and shared laughter that seemed so distant now. Before the alien invasions that shattered the normalcy you once took for granted. Before what felt like an endless cycle of fighting, running, and hiding became your daily reality. The weight of the chaotic life you both now lived hung heavy in the air, you felt like you couldn’t get a break.

Just as the silence threatened to become overwhelming, Alpine's insistent meow for attention pierced through your shared reverie. Both of you instinctively glanced towards the source of the sound, your eyes landing on her pristine white fur. She sat primly at one of the bowls, her curiosity piqued by the strange contents within. She slowly extended a paw, attempting to touch the slimy pumpkin guts and seeds.

"I wouldn't change it," Bucky looked over at you, his eyes filled with sincerity and warmth. "I want to go back, sure, but I wouldn't. I have you now, and that means everything to me. The thought of never meeting you...I wouldn't want to risk losing that for anything in the world. You saved me already, I can’t imagine my life without you in it."

You felt a wave of emotion wash over you, touched deeply by his heartfelt words. The intensity of his gaze and the raw honesty in his voice made your heart skip a beat. You couldn't help but feel a mix of gratitude and affection for this man who valued your presence in his life so highly. You didn’t have conversations like these too often, or when you did, it was when one of you was feeling vulnerable or more down during a hard day. It often left you or him feeling choked up.

Trying to lighten the moment and hide how touched you were, you playfully hit his arm, your lips curving into a tender smile. "You big sap," you teased, your voice soft with fondness. "Cut a face into the damn pumpkin..."

Bucky's face lit up as he began to carve, his mind not set on any particular design but rather drawing inspiration from the classic jack-o-lantern image etched in his memory. He etched out a simple yet charming face, triangular eyes, a small triangular nose positioned just right, and a wide, friendly smile adorned with two square teeth strategically placed on opposite sides of the mouth. Even though he had claimed his artistry wasn’t the best, he carved the pumpkin very well. Each line he created was impeccably smooth, the blade gliding effortlessly through the pumpkin's flesh.

You, on the other hand, found yourself completely absorbed in your own creative process, your hands steady as you wielded the carving tool. You drew your chosen design onto the surface of your pumpkin, each stroke of the blade bringing your vision to life. Time seemed to slip away as you worked, lost in the satisfying task of transforming the ordinary gourd into a work of art. Once the main carving was complete, you took extra care to refine and clean up any stray pieces and wiping away excess bits with a damp paper towel to ensure a polished finish.

When you were done, you set down your tools and admired your handiwork. "There, I'm done," you announced proudly, carefully turning your pumpkin to face Bucky. Your eyes sparkled with excitement as you presented your creation, eager for his reaction. "What do you think?" you asked, a mix of anticipation and pride coloring your voice as you waited for his assessment of your jack-o-lantern.

"It looks fantastic, doll," he praised enthusiastically, his eyes lighting up as he carefully examined the intricate face you had carved onto the pumpkin. The details were truly impressive, showcasing your artistic talent and creativity. "You've really outdone yourself. I stuck with a boring one."

He then turned to his own creation, a hint of self-consciousness creeping into his voice. "Now, how about mine? I know it's not as exciting or elaborate as yours, but I think I did a decent job, all things considered. What do you think?" He gently rotated his pumpkin, presenting it for your inspection. Despite his modest words, there was an undeniable glimmer of pride in his eyes. Art might not have been his forte, but he had poured his heart into it, feeding on your passion.

You studied his handiwork, you couldn't help but be impressed. It may not have been as flashy as some, but there was an undeniable charm to its simplicity. "Oh, Bucky," you breathed, your voice brimming with genuine admiration, "It's absolutely perfect."

Your praise seemed to bolster his confidence, and a warm smile spread across his face as you continued, "I mean it, you did an incredible job. The symmetry, the clean cuts - it's flawless. It looks like it should be featured on the cover of one of those glossy fall edition home and garden magazines. You know, the ones by the check out stands that always make everything look so effortlessly elegant and seasonal? That's exactly what your pumpkin reminds me of, it’s beautiful."

His cheeks flushed at your heartfelt praise, that pretty blush scattering across his cheeks and nose. Initially, he had thought it was just a simple, perhaps even silly, pumpkin face he had carved. But your sincere words of admiration stirred something within him, creating a warmth that spread from his chest outwards. He found himself basking in the glow of your approval, he was a sucker for praise after all.

At first, he had been hesitant about carving a pumpkin with you, unsure if he would enjoy such a traditional autumn pastime. He hadn’t done it since he was a kid anyway, so it wasn’t something that really crossed his mind. But now, looking at your beaming face and feeling the contentment settling over him, he knew that his initial doubts had been completely unfounded. The simple act of creating something together, sharing laughs, and enjoying each other's company was what it was about. Not the carving, but spending time with you.

"Let's put some candles inside and put them outside! I want to see them in the dark!" You got up and carried your pumpkin to the porch, prompting him to stand too. "Come on, Buck Buck!" You called, the nickname made him chuckle as he picked his pumpkin up, along with the two candles you set to the side.

"I'm comin' sweetheart, wait for me!"

Dividers by @/strangergraphics | Cover images from Pinterest

#bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #winter soldier #the winter soldier #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #james buchanan barnes x reader #the winter soldier x reader #thunderbolts #the winter soldier x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #james bucky barnes #emwrites🌿

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thatfrailsoul · 3 months ago

Text

Slow down for a moment. Breathe. And choose the image that aligns the most with what you feel.

Allow your heart to guide you, to tell you if there is really a message here for you... And whatever the answer is, feel free to listen to it or to let go. Remembering that when you will be ready or will have the need, your true message will find its way to you.♡

If you feel like stopping by, before scrolling to your message, I would like to know your opinion.♡ If you do answer, thank you so much in advance! As this way you help me create a more comfortable and safe place.♡

When interacting with the pick a pile/picture readings, do you prefer when the message is short and direct (more easy to digest), or when it's a little longer and detailed (and you can take your time reading and reflecting on what it says)?

There is so much that you found in them... Understanding, acceptance, appreciation for who you really and simply are. A safe place where there is no need to pretend. A safe person with whom there is no need to wear a mask, because it would be useless to try to hide from those eyes... A tender, warm, affection and protection. From all the wounds that those of the past left on your heart... A chance to heal, with their support and gentle ways. A chance to escape that past completely, through a connection that might give you enough love. Perhaps even more than what you think you deserve...

But is it the only type of love that might be enough? The romantic one? The one that, you imagine and expect, is powerful enough to blur everything else in your life? To hide from you all the challenges, all the dangers... Or perhaps to hide you from them? Or is there more? More ways to love, more things to gain and discover in yourself through the affection, support and admiration of someone else? Someone who sees you, and it is able to show you who you really are, the courage and strength that you really have? How much you are ready and capable of finding enough of them in your own self, to be able to face this life, instead of running and hiding from them behind someone else's back?

You see that more between you, in them. You see it because you desperately need and want it. To be able to finally feel that heavyness and pressure lifted from your tired shoulders. To be for once able to don't have this overwhelming fear and frustration, knowing that you are not alone... But you can find all of this in them, in others, without necessarily being connected through a romantic love. You can find it in them, even if they are simply and genuinly your friend. The one who will be there, not because they are binded to you with a blind love that you became used to desire and idolise... But simply because they are here for you, they cherish you and care for you. And even if there might not be that something more that you want... There will be that connection that you the most need. True and honest. Powerful in the moments and feelings that it will gift you. And always here.

P.s. If you would like to receive a more personal message and guidance about your situation - find out all about it here!♡

So many contrasting emotions are overwhelming your heart now... Between the affection and the desire that grow more and more, and the fear of what it might mean for your connection... For the person that you learned to know... You are not that far away from exploding. From burying yourself under so many possible outcomes, reactions, words that you could hear from them in the eventuality that you make that one step closer, allowing your heart to speak up.

But it is much easier than what it seems. It is much more innocent, what you feel. It will not cause any disruption, any catastrophie. It will not create walls between your hearts, that already know each other so well and so much. Because you already are that more. You already are for each other that support, that strength, that inspiration and motivation that is not at all so superficial. It is not so little that you can think that, the feelings that are blooming in you now, can destroy your connection so easily or so fast. It is much more stronger, it is much more deeper already. The person in front of you it's not someone that just passes by. They know you, perhaps more than they know themselves. They feel you, like they never had the courage to feel their own self. And they will listen to you. They will understand you. They will accept you. Because from the very start this connection was different. And you both know that well. Well enough to not let it burn down, just for a feeling that has nothing malicious or wrong in it. A feeling that is pure, exactly like your heart that they already learned to love and appreciate so much.

P.s. If you would like to receive a more personal message and guidance about your situation - find out all about it here!♡

It is not the first time isn't it? This feeling in your heart is not at all new. Not regarding them, that came into your life out of the blue and made it so vivid, like it never was before. So full of emotions, of desires, of curiosity and excitement of seeing and feeling so many old things so differently. Like it was the first time that you were alive.

But you never had a lack of courage, of resilience and confidence in yourself and your worth. So how come, with them, you never really did that step forward? How come you never dared to ask or offer more? Perhaps because they never hid it. They never left room for misunderstanding, for interpretation. They never left room for someone to get closer to them than what they wanted. And from the very first day, it was clear that you were one of those. The ones that are not supposed to see and know their more intimate world.

But no matter how much you are aware of it, no matter how much you try to focus on something or someone else... You are still here. Still feeling your heart pounding so strongly when they are close. Even when you are suppressing these emotions, not wanting to be the one to ruin this connection and make them feel uncomfortable. You are just trying to hide them or to ignore... But is it really the only and right way to respect them and their boundaries, and still have a chance to be a part of their life?

You are not letting go of it, you can't really let it pass. Simply because this hiding is so different from your usual ways. It feels so forced for your heart, that it is used to clarify things right away, finding out directly if it is meant to be or not. Trying and working on it, or moving on. Instead of remaining here, with this sort of suspension, not a no, but not really a maybe. But even if you can't have that direct answer from them, you do have one already. You do know their boundaries, their limits. You know the way they treat you and see you, and you know how different it is from what you feel in your heart. And the only reason it is not enough for you to find peace and let go... Is because you are not making it be enough. Because once you imagine and picture one thing... It is really hard for you to accept to lose it, even if it never was yours.

But it is not so bad, to accept this friendship and genuine connection. You won't lose anything, if you will nourish and enjoy it just the way it is. Actually, you will find something that is much more than what a romantic connection that you pictured could've given you. You will find much more appreciation and satisfaction in respecting their boundaries and not forcing them or yourself in transforming this into something more. Just don't ignore it, don't hide it, don't suppress it with the frustration and anger that you have now that comes from this feeling of inferiority, lack or loss... But rather allow yourself to understand that not every deep and powerful connection needs to be a romantic one. And in leaving this relationship the way it is, you can actually find something much more meaningful and worthy of being cherished, respected and enjoyed.

P.s. If you would like to receive a more personal message and guidance about your situation - find out all about it here!♡

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heliads · 1 year ago

Note

I’m not sure if you write for Marauders or not, but I thought I would ask. I’ve also never requested before, so apologies if I do this wrong.

My request is a Regulus Black x a female Potter reader where they fake their deaths to hide from Voldemort and destroy all his horcruxes in secret. Once they’ve destroyed all the horcruxes they reveal that they are alive to Sirius and James, and there is a cute reunion scene that’s really fluffy.

Again, sorry if I did this wrong. Thank you so much!!

oh i would do anything for the marauders (including writing for them)

masterlist

Night has fallen when Regulus Black tells you that he’s leaving. He waits until now, the final hour, as if hoping that the dark shades of midnight will hide what he’s planning from the rest of the world. Regulus will be found out, of that he is certain, he just hopes that he’ll have enough time to do some sort of good before he’s caught.

The smart thing would be to leave before anyone got word of his disappearance. Regulus is not smart when he comes to you, however, or so he admits when he shows up on your doorstep when you were just about to go to bed.

Regulus says that he’s leaving alone. It doesn’t explain why he showed up to say goodbye, or perhaps the thought of that solitude is the very reason for it. Regulus is alone except for when he’s with you. Every time that he was lonely, he sought you out. It makes perfect sense that now, when he fears the quiet abyss of death, he would want a farewell from you one last time.

You, however, are unwilling to let him go. It was hard enough having to endure the past few years estranged from him like another brother to let go. You’re a Potter, he’s a Black, and even though Sirius switched over to your side, Regulus hadn’t. Not yet. Not until now.

It had all but torn you to pieces, choosing loyalty with your brother James and his best friend Sirius when Regulus seemed so far away. Regulus had always been kind to you throughout your years at Hogwarts, the two of you closer than anyone despite how your scarlet school robes clashed with his emerald ones, and just when you swore nothing could separate you, he signed on with the Death Eaters.

Now he’s in front of you, telling you that he’s going to take down the Dark Lord or die trying. It seems like a fool’s errand, and a dangerous one at that. That’s what you tell him after you get over the shock of seeing him after such a long time, once you remember to invite him into your house and lock the door securely behind you.

The outside is blank and dark, but in your home, you’ve never felt more alive. You had wondered what it would be like to see Regulus after so much time, and it’s like you’re back at Hogwarts instead of in some small apartment close to your job. He’s here, and you’re here, and the thought that he’s about to go fling himself into the grasp of unwarranted death is unthinkable.

Perhaps that’s why you let it happen under only one condition: that you be there too. Regulus is a brother and you are a sister and the two of you understand each other, you always have. That’s why you know without a doubt that Regulus will not stray from this quest, even though you try to persuade him from it nonetheless. It’s why he knows better than to fight when you assert that he won’t be doing it alone.

You did try to talk him out of it a little, at least. Why would it be him of all people to try to take down Voldemort? When there are so many witches and wizards fighting in the cause, why should he be the one to die?

You had not gained much by way of explanation. “It’s my responsibility,” he had said simply.

Regulus would know about responsibility. Regulus, who joined the Death Eaters to appease his parents, who regretted the choice from the moment the inked skull appeared on his forearm. You’ve caught him staring at the accursed tattoo for hours, only when he thinks no one else is around. You know he only feels comfortable wearing long sleeved shirts so he doesn’t have to look at it and remember what he became.

It is his responsibility to save the wizarding world, and so it will be yours, too. Regulus isn’t pleased at first when you tell him that you’ll be going with him on the quest to hunt down the horcruxes, but you refuse to change your mind. When the moon hangs high in the sky later that night, you think he goes to sleep with a smile at the thought that he’ll have such a lovely traveling companion. He tells you as much when you set off, anyway.

He might as well be smiling about something, you won’t have much reason to do so until the difficult deed is done. You’re already leaving under terrible circumstances as is; in order to avoid detection from the Dark Lord and his followers, you and Regulus have staged each other’s deaths. When your friends come upon the scene later, they’ll believe that Regulus, a Death Eater, came by your home to kill you, a member of the Order of the Phoenix. You fought back and managed to wound Regulus enough to end his life, but not before he returned the favor for you as well.

It’s a horrific sight, the illusion of both of your bodies lying side by side. Your brother will find this out later, and be sick with grief. Regulus’ brother too, even if the taint of betrayal will make the whole scene wretched with wrongness. For now, though, you have no time to think of possible reactions nor the difficulty of what you are forcing your friends and family to endure. The only objective in your mind is how to destroy the horcruxes so that the war can be won.

Regulus knows of the first, a locket in a cursed lake somewhere deep underground. He takes you there first, and it takes him weeks to sleep off the aftereffects of that awful potion hiding the locket. Whenever you close your eyes, you see the rings of fire you had to conjure up to fight back the Inferi swarming from the lake, how they had emerged from the greenish lake ready to drag Regulus into the water the second he bent his head to drink.

Regaining the locket is an awful thing, destroying it more so. It takes the two of you several days before you’re able to do it for good, and all the while the accursed relic whispers lies in your ears, trying to convince you to abandon each other. When a wave of rage so strong it almost kills you makes you black out and slam the thing with the Killing Curse, it works at last. You’ve never used an Unforgivable Curse before. It takes surprisingly little willpower to do.

Regulus talks you through that. It’s easier to address the use of Avada Kedavra than the ugly truth both of you know, which is that there will be no guarantee that either of you will make it out of this infernal quest. It took everything in you to find and destroy the locket, which at least you knew about. What of the other horcruxes? How will you survive them, too?

The two of you travel across the country, listening in to wizarding news and doing your best to find out what the remaining horcruxes could be. You share space, you share secrets. You’ve never been closer to Regulus in your entire life. The thought that the two of you went a year or two without speaking after you left Hogwarts is unthinkable now. How could you breathe without him?

After dark, he lies awake, watching the light from a charmed lantern flit across the ceiling. He says, you don’t have to do this. Stay with him. Risk your life like this.

You prop yourself up on one elbow so you can get a better look at him. The furrows in his brow are more pronounced now, and the shadows under his eyes, which have been there since the day you met him, are now dark enough to look like the hollows of a skull. Of course I do.

As if the universe meant to reward your faithfulness, you’re blessed with a clue the next day. Regulus recognizes a Death Eater furtively walking down a street and follows him, overhearing the man tell one of his friends that Lucius Malfoy was apparently given some strange token of the Dark Lord’s. They’re both jealous that they weren’t given Voldemort’s refuse, apparently, but their complainings are like music to your ears.

Malfoy’s item is a diary, and it writes pages of frantic scribblings in an attempt to save itself before Regulus hits it with Fiendfyre which, strangely enough, works. Stranger still was trying to break into Malfoy Manor to find a journal, but all’s well that ends well. You got in, you got out, and although there are definitely some house elves under Lucius’ employ that will wonder why they heard voices in the dark that one night, no one is the wiser.

The next secret you hear is not an item but a place, the family home of the Dark Lord’s mother. The two of you comb the place relentlessly until you find an old ring buried deep beneath the earth. Just to be sure, you check it for curses, and after a great deal of difficulty, are able to remove the dark enchantment before destroying it for good.

You lie awake that night, musing aloud before you can stop yourself. “We only barely caught the curse on that one. What if the other ones were enchanted as well and we didn’t know it?”

Regulus sits up, brushing dark hair out of his eyes so he can look at you. “What if we’re both going to die because we didn’t catch something in time, you mean?” He asks.

You nod reluctantly. “I don’t want to seem like I’m losing faith, because I’m not, but– I worry sometimes, you know?”

Regulus stands, takes both your hands in his palms and kisses them. “I rely on your worries, Y/N. They keep us alive. And no, I don’t think we’re cursed. Not yet, at least. If we were, I could at least die with you. That’s worth something, isn’t it?”

You laugh. “That’s morbid, Regulus.”

“But true,” he muses.

He tells you he loves you the next day. It feels like it’s been a long time coming. You have never been one to declare love immediately, but it’s different with Regulus, always has been. If you were in the mood to be honest, you would admit that you have been in love with him for years, ever since the two of you were small enough to hide in your brothers’ shadows and find each other there. You have loved him since the start. You will love him until the end.

Taking down the next horcrux is almost easy, if such things were allowed to be said. You’re fuelled by the hope that this might be the end. Standing over the shattered bits and pieces of Helga Hufflepuff’s Cup, you almost believe it. It’s funny, you always thought that you would somehow be able to tell when you finally destroyed the last of the horcruxes, like you could feel it in the air or something.

You feel nothing when the cup is destroyed. It scares you. You and Regulus have been extremely careful to keep yourselves hidden, but you dare to poke your heads out of the shadows for a little bit to determine if you were successful or not. Although you hear rumors that Voldemort seems weakened, that his forces have started losing battles despite him being at the helm of the attacks, he is not yet dead.

It’s heartbreaking. After all of your efforts, your trials and tribulations, every injury and weakness the two of you have sustained on the quest to defeat the Dark Lord, it still isn’t enough. You listen, you spend weeks and then a full month waiting for information, but nothing comes. There is no sign that there are any more horcruxes, but Voldemort has not died. How could it be so?

You come up with a tentative solution in the end, which is to go to Dumbledore for advice. In a way, it seems almost childish– why should the headmaster have any idea what to do, other than the fact that he led your school where the two of you first met and studied? Then again, Dumbledore is the most powerful wizard of his age. If anyone would know how to proceed, surely it would be him.

Regulus agrees readily enough, recognizing the necessity that if the two of you cannot find a way to continue on your journey, it will never end, and before long the two of you are Apparating near familiar territory and walking up to the castle on foot. You disguise your faces with a simple charm; the two of you are supposed to be dead, after all, but all it takes is one glance at you and Dumbledore is smiling and telling you that he’s glad to see two such familiar corpses up and about.

You laugh, you can’t help it, and remove the charm once you and Regulus are safely in Dumbledore’s office and out of sight. After explaining your predicament, Dumbledore sits for a moment in contemplative silence and then says at last, “It must be the diadem.”

You and Regulus exchange glances, then look back at him. “What diadem?” Regulus asks.

“The diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw, of course,” Dumbledore muses. “Tom Riddle– the Dark Lord, if you like your pleasantries– was captivated by the magic of the four founders of Hogwarts. You have told me already of Hufflepuff’s cup, this is the expected companion piece. It must be somewhere within the castle, but where– but where–”

He clears his throat after a lengthy pause. “I give both of you permission to scour the castle for it. I will caution the staff not to look too closely at either of you. Take however much time you need, but I would urge you to hurry. More of us die by the day, and it would do us no good to have our friends fall as a consequence of our own dillydallying.”

You look up at him. “And what happens after we destroy the diadem? It must be the last horcrux, or the last one he’s created so far. Will that kill him for good?”

“No,” Dumbledore murmurs, “that will end the horcruxes, not the monster who made them. Once the horcruxes are gone, he will be severely weakened and search for however has been hunting down his creations. You two are lucky that you have not died already, you know. I have no doubt that he has already begun attempts to stop you from completing your goal.”

You shudder, remembering past encounters. Death Eaters had nearly caught up to you many times, and on numerous occasions, they had, requiring firefights of spells and hexes before you and Regulus could escape to relative safety.

Beside you, Regulus tenses, obviously thinking along the same lines. “How do we survive once we destroy the last of the horcruxes? How do we stay out of his sight?”

Dumbledore sighs, weary and heavy. “I will put a stop to him,” he says at last, and that is that.

You and Regulus conjure up your charms once again, disguising your faces to all students who happen to pass by. You look in towers and dungeons, empty classrooms and great halls. It’s a mad memory rush being back here, and it is difficult not to mix memory with your current situation.

When a few hours of searching pass by, though, and neither of you have found even the slightest hint of a diadem, your fond musings are replaced by desperate anger. This is your last step, surely, if you could just find the thing. It would all be over if you could merely find one diadem in one castle.

Regulus leans against a nearby stone wall, eyes cast up to the sky in a plea for help. “Where would a diadem be? In the Ravenclaw dorm, maybe?”

You shake your head. “Dumbledore said it wouldn’t be there.”

You pace back and forth, trying to wrap your head around the issue. What other sections of the castle are particularly known to Rowena Ravenclaw? You’ll wear a path into the carpet beneath your feet while you try and think, but nothing seems to work until the wall opposite Regulus suddenly shifts away, revealing a door.

You and Regulus stare at the room that has appeared out of nowhere. “Do you remember a hidden room near here?” Regulus asks faintly.

You shake your head. “James loved tracking down every secret passage, and he told me most of them, but I don’t think even he knew about this one.”

It’s nice to have a first. You smile to yourself, then take Regulus’ hand when he offers it and walk inside the mysterious room.

The chamber is packed to the gills with objects great and small. It occurs to you that even if the diadem is somewhere in here, it could take years to sift through all this junk. You and Regulus look at each other, shrug, and each take a corridor in which to search.

About half an hour has gone by before Regulus gives a shout. “Found it!”

You race over to his side, and stand, breathless, looking at the very same artifact that’s caught his attention. It’s old, dusty, and not particularly noteworthy, but it has this terrible feel to it that all of the horcruxes had in turn.

“This is it,” you whisper. One last shot. Then, the end.

Regulus lifts his wand, summons a tendril of Fiendfyre, which goes straight through the diadem, shattering it like glass. It’s silent for a moment, and then, when the last shard of the diadem falls to the ground with a quiet crunch, you’re both rocked backward by a boom like a cannon. This, at last, you can feel. This is it.

Dumbledore is waiting for you when the two of you emerge from the room. “I’ll take my leave of you,” he says, “and thank you.”

You nod. “What do we do now?”

For a moment, despite the burden that has now been placed on your old headmaster’s shoulders, despite all the lives that have been lost and those that will still be taken, Dumbledore smiles. “You can go home.”

Sirius used to stay the night at the home of you and your brother, you remember that from your school days. It would then follow that, with everything in peril and friends disappearing by the day, Sirius would be at James’ right now. It certainly saves a trip for you and Regulus. Dumbledore gives you their address before you leave, and he tells you to waste no more time.

As if there is anything in the world that you want more than to see your family. You and Regulus Apparate a street or two down from the house, then walk over, hand in hand. Before you know it, you’re waiting on the threshold. The lights are on somewhere in the back of the house; you can hear voices, then a shout of a laugh you remember as Sirius’. It’s more quiet than it used to be, a little more hesitant. He’s lost a lot, the elder Black brother, but he’ll gain some today, too.

Regulus squeezes your hand. “Let’s come back from the dead,” he says.

You smile at him. “That sounds good to me.”

The doorbell echoes through the house, ceasing all conversation. There are slow footsteps to the door, a pause as someone looks through the peephole, and then all of a sudden the door has been flung open and you’re engulfed in a whirlwind of a hug. Your brother is here, your brother is lifting you off the ground with the force of his embrace, and it’s been so, so long since you’ve seen him, but you’re back again, and everything is okay at last.

James’ eyes are as wide as saucers when he finally leans away to get a good look at you. “Y/N, you’re– I swear, if you’re a Death Eater using Polyjuice, I will hurt you so badly–”

You laugh. “I’m me, James. Just me. If you want proof, though, I offer up the memory of when you were a first year and totally in love with Lily and you had me–”

James cuts you off quickly. “Alright, alright. It’s you. God, it’s you.”

A figure appears behind James, and a quiet voice asks, “Regulus?”

James moves aside so Sirius can see his brother. Regulus stands perfectly still, says, “We tried to fix it, Sirius, we hurt him, the Dark Lord, we–”

Regulus told you years ago that he wasn’t that affectionate with his brother. It’s to be expected, of course, divisions between brothers rarely settle themselves sweetly. You suppose that’s why Regulus looks so stunned when Sirius reaches out an arm and hugs him. You’re not sure if he’s trying to crush his younger brother or just make sure that he’s actually real, but they both look vaguely confused when it’s over. Happy, though. Glad to be alive.

The news will come out later that week that Voldemort is dead. Dumbledore did what was promised and killed him. That means the war is over, and that means you can rest at last. You’ll get a place to stay with Regulus. The thought of leaving him now that the two of you can be together without fear is unthinkable. You don’t want to be without him, and thanks to your suffering on the path to destroy the horcruxes, you won’t have to.

Dawn breaks. And you think– you think this might be it. Not a harsh end, but a soft one. A quiet aftermath. You’ll live, and Regulus will too. That’s more than you expected during those months on the run. When the two of you went to sleep unsure if you’d wake up in the morning, your wildest dreams could not encapsulate the wonderful life you have right now. It is marvelous, and it is yours. That is all.

requested by @bookishirishdancer, i hope you enjoy!

harry potter tag list: @rogueanschel, @cameronsails, @neewtmas, @lovesanimals0000, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @eclliipsed, @frenchgirlinlondon, @23victoria, @ilovexavierthrope

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