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gay-dorito-dust · 3 months ago

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Can you please do some headcanons of Stanley being fake married to Fords’ assistant. They had to put up this charade for 30 years to convince people he was Stanford and “Mr. And Mrs. Mystery would bring in way more business!” Dipper and Mabel see her as a mother figure and Mabel likes to plan out their dates because she firmly believes they don’t go on ENOUGH of them. While they’re both on one of these said dates they realize “wait…do I actually like you??” (Slow burn is indeed 30 years slowwwww)

This is so fucking long oh my fucking god-I’m actually going to have to make a part two or something. This is just too long.

Part two here

When you and Ford first arrived at Gravity Falls a lot of people were under the impression that you were a married couple, where they got that preposterous idea form neither of you had single clue but as hard as you and Ford tried to disprove their claims, insisting they you were just platonic partners and nothing more.

It only seemed to give them more reason to assume that there was something more going on between you both. So in the end you both elected to ignore it as Gravity Falls was a small unknown, sleepy town that wasn’t on any recorded map that you chalked it down to them needing something to gossip about to spare them of how boring their lives were. But you and Ford knew others wise and saw Gravity Falls as a treasure trove of information regarding the mysterious and the unknown, it was the main reasons you started this partnership to begin with after all.

But things were quick to fall apart just as it seemed you were getting closer to what you knew was the truth as Ford made a deal with a triangular demon known as Bill, easily swayed by his tricks and even more so by his constant repetition that Ford should ‘trust no one’ not even you, his assistant. Naturally it caused a rift between the two of you as you were sick and tired of having to try and reassure Ford- who was slowly succumbing to paranoia- that you weren’t in any way shape or threat to his research. Even bringing up how you both spend hours on end documenting mushrooms, fungi and others of a similar vein when you both first moved to Gravity Falls.

However this tactic didn’t work in your favour unfortunately as one thing lead to another and you were left helpless as you watched Ford get pulled into the portal that his brother -Stanley- had accidentally pushed him into during their squabble, watching as it seemingly closed forever.

You wanted to be mad at Stanley, you really did but the man had just lost his brother, his twin brother seemingly forever due to his own actions. So instead you eased off of him and offered to help him with reopening the portal in order to get Ford back, while also giving a triangle demon a piece of your mind for taking advantage of your overachiever of a friend. Ford being lost seeing forever hurt you just as badly as it hurt Stanley and you would do anything and everything if it meant seeing your friend again.

That and probably scold him for ever thinking that a deal with demon would ever go down well without some sort of hidden agenda, for if a deal sounds too good to be true then it might as well be. Something you’ve learned from Stan, whom you leaned was an expert conman who conned people for a living in order to get by. You didn’t necessarily saw it as a good thing to do, living off of the nativity of people and their gullible natures, but you didn’t have much of a choice when Stan assumed the identity of his twin and even has the audacity to lean into the town’s assumptions of you and Ford being married.

‘But we’re not married!’ You spat, letting go of Stan’s hand when you got home after a trip into town, all that effort you and Ford tried in order for people to stop assuming your relationship was ruined in one fell swoop, was this town really that desperate that they’d deeply get involved in someone’s life like?

(Yes the answer was yes)

‘I know that and you know that, but they don’t have to know that. Think about all the money we could make off of this! They’d be eating out of the palm of our hands!’ Stan replied with a smile while you could only scoff, not understanding how this was Ford’s twin brother when the two were only alike in the physical sense rather then anything else.

‘Is that all you see this as? An opportunity to capitalise on their naivety? Their gullibility and for what? A quick buck?’ You argued back as you sat yourself down at the table in the kitchen and rested your head in your hands. ‘They’ll catch on eventually.’ You added sombrely as Stan could only watch you and feel a slight pan in his chest at seeing you upset and at a loss, completely the opposite of the person you were when standing next to Ford.

‘Listen toots, I know this isn’t how you expected things to go-‘

‘You think?’ You shot back, glaring at him as he held up his hands.

‘-but there’s no other option for us other then to keep the charade up until we can reopen that stupid portal and get my brother back.’ Stan then tested the waters by planing his hand atop of your own, felling you flinch slightly at the contact before relaxing when you felt his thumb rub your knuckles comfortingly. ‘But until then we’ve got to see this through until the end and hey maybe you’ll come to like me one day!’ He then adds with a smile but you couldn’t help but scoff.

‘Yeah right, the day I come to enjoy your company Stanley Pines is the day I enter an early grave.’ You replied but there was no malice in your voice like there was before and in that moment it felt like things were okay, even if it was brief but it was enough for you to want to take Stanley up on his word and see it through to the end.

Flash forward 30 years and you and Stanley were still going strong with the whole ‘fake marriage’ thing and to Stan’s credit a business ran by a married couple did work wonders on the paying public, most of whom would find more intrigue about how you two met more so then about the fake attractions that Stan tried to have them believe as things that once existed.

‘A unicorn made out of corn? Really Stan?’ You’d whisper to him as you forced a smile while clinging onto his arm while the dumb tourists took their pictures of the supposed unicorn made out of corn. ‘That has to be your worst one yet.’

‘Trust the process sweetheart, trust the process and watch as these idiots throw their money at the first ‘weird’ thing they see. They never stop to question its credibility and that’s what we bank on most.’ Stan replied before pressing a kiss to your forehead, something he always did to keep the facade alive and fresh, along with pulling you into his side by your waist and gloating about you and all your academic achievements to anyone with ears.

You hated how much he seemingly remembered about you that almost had you rethinking everything you know about this man. But then you stop to constantly reminded yourself that Stan only remembered these parts about you because he needed material to keep your story consistent and without any falling potholes, the man knew how to cover his bases that was for sure, and yet that didn’t stop you from feeling seen whenever Stan bragged about how smart his spouse was.

That’s the one thing that you mentally thanked him for. He didn’t make you play into stereotypes or change anything remotely about yourself to fit his narrative, he let you be the smart and intelligent spouse while he played the man who was happy to snag you before anyone else could and had been riding the high ever since. It was…sweet in a way that you couldn’t describe.

When Mabel and Dipper came to Gravity Falls they were naturally skeptical on whether they should stay with you and Stan, but soon enough did they warm up to you when you could match Dipper in terms of intelligence and treated Mabel with nothing but kindness and encouragement of her creativity. That and the fact that you could sway Stan into letting them do whatever by placing your hand on his bicep and bating your eyes at him.

‘Let the kids have fun, you were quite the troublemaker when you were their age.’ You told him as you played devils advocate for the kids going to the movies and Stan sighed before reluctantly agreeing to your terms.

‘Fine, fine.’ He says before pointing at you. ‘You owe me for this though honey.’

You smiled as you kissed his cheek. ‘And how can I do that?’ You asked.

‘How about you both go on a date!’ Mabel exclaimed from across the table as she pulls out a blindingly glittery and sparkly binder that had written across the front: Mabel’s date plans for Grunkle Stan and great aunt/Grunkle/ y/n.

‘How long have you had that sweetheart?’ You asked her, a little frightened to know the answer as you knew Mabel was emotionally intelligent when it came to these sorts of things.

‘Since I’ve noticed that you and Grunkle Stan don’t go on dates.’ She replies as her brows furrowed while she flicked through the pages of her binder for the perfect date for the pair of you.

‘We’re married honey, we don’t need to go on dates. Being together 24/7 is like a date all in itself.’ Stanley replied as he could feel your hand gripping his bicep tighten, wanting nothing more than to soothe that overworked mind of yours as he placed his hand over the top of yours and squeezed, shooing you a reassuring smile.

‘Not good enough!’ Mabel cried as she pointed at the pair of you. ‘I can see the love in your eyes, that love is so hard to come by nowadays and just because you’re married doesn’t mean you stop going on dates!’

‘When was the last time you did go on a date?’ Dipper asked this time as his eyes darted from you to his Grunkle as you both mentally swore to yourselves. You and Stan have never been on a date, sure you’ve both been through town together but you never actually went anywhere that would be considered a date. After all your marriage was just for show and tell and not the real thing, despite how much you’ve grown to like how he held you at night or looked at you as though you hung the stars in the sky.

‘A long time kiddo.’ Stan told him. ‘And it was the date where I realised that I wanted to be with them for the rest of my life.’ He adds, his eyes softening when the looked at you, making you smile in response as you moved your hand to squeezed his.

‘Awwww!’ Mabel cooed as she watched you and her Grunkle look at each other so tenderly. it was obvious to her that you meant a lot to her Grunkle Stan and he meant a lot to you too that she couldn’t help but hope to find a love like yours one day herself. ‘Which is why I think you should both go on a date tonight! Right Dipper?’

Mabel punches dipper in the shoulder. ‘Yeah you both defiantly should go on a date.’ He agrees as he rubs his shoulder.

You and Stan looked at one another and knew that there was no getting out of this one, but you were both kind of excited for it at the same time, after all what was going to happen? You both actually realise you like each other after all this time? Preposterous.

#gravity falls x reader #gravity falls imagine #gravity falls imagines #gravity falls #stanley pines imagines #stanley pines imagine #stanley pines x reader #stan pines imagines #stan pines imagine #stan pines x reader

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mamashenanigans · 1 year ago

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When my head isn’t filled with “keephishandkeephishandkeephishand” on a loop, I actually think about more stuff from 407.

Someone on X pointed this out, but how wittle baby boy Yoichi is shown here…

Makes it seem like the people that AFO just killed had maybe beat him up. Of course, AFO is taking their metapowers away too, but it’s an interesting catch. And, yes, Yoichi is wearing fitted clothes while AFO walks around with something just wrapped around him.

You know how Yoichi still believed there was good in his brother because of the kindness of his “hand”?

Well, in case you missed it…

They were born apart with their hands already reaching out to each other. They are on their backs right now, so those are the same hands that are holding/being held.

This means…

AFO grabbed Yoichi and dragged him with him. What you’re seeing in that top panel is the water starting to overflow the river and rush past. AFO pulled Yoichi out of the water and on to their mother. He is also using the spike quirk for teeth and on his hand to grab onto their mother and pull them up. The bottom left panel is him biting into her dress as he pulls them out of the danger of the water. Yes, AFO saved Yoichi when they were fucking newborns. THIS is what Yoichi has a faint memory of. That was the kindness.

I know some people have been wondering if they’re fraternal or identical. This seems to suggest that they are in fact sharing the same umbilical cord. It’s rare for fraternal twins to have this. It’s crazy to think that Yoichi may have looked just like AFO if he had the same amount of nutrients. But I digress…

A very notable thing about AFO’s eyes: they are huge and creepy in feral/survivor mode. We’ve seen his eyes get like this as AFOTomura and when he goes into rage mode against All Might and now Bakugo.

Here, he is quite literally just walking down the street past the anti-meta people and presumably just heard them talk about killing metas. Once they take notice of him, he turns his head towards them and his eyes are huge like a startled animal.

He then proceeds to kill them and still has that feral look.

But now let me get to something pretty important…

We don’t see AFO actually smile until this panel

Once he has a dream of everyone living for his sake, like Yoichi, he is finally smiling. And continues to do so after this point.

Something really bothering me is that they must have named themselves including their surname. Shigaraki means “death tree” which fits in nicely as they were born “from death”. However, where did Yoichi get his name? AFO must have named him and Yoichi can mean “first gift”. So he named him that because Yoichi was QUITE LITERALLY the first thing AFO ever had. As for AFO…I don’t know if he would take the time to name himself. Yoichi only calls him big brother so he may have told Yoichi to just keep calling him that then decided to name himself after the Quirk he also named himself: All for One. Dude is really committed to the bit.

There’s one more thing I haven’t seen anyone touch on yet…

The hatred.

As you probably recall, Hawks has a talk with Best Jeanist over AFO’s lack of emotions and lack of hate. Why he has to use Tomura to get OFA.

406 explained why that is perfectly.

When he feels hatred, he is forced to remember WHEN HE WAS TOLD HE KILLED HIS BROTHER HOLY SHIT. It would also be possibly the first and only time he ever cried. Felt real grief. So, he never “feels” REAL hatred because that would mean having to confront this memory.

It’s fucking genius.

You’’re welcome.

#all for one #afo #my hero academia #yoichi shigaraki #boku no hero academia #bnha afo #bnha yoichi #bnha spoilers #mha407 #bnha

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im-subtextsexual · 6 months ago

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I’m glad so many people picked up on the vibes between Eloise and Cressida. Not a ship I ever considered before, but the tension was palpable. I’ve been a Queer Eloise truther since reading the books. Her portrayal on the show only made it more obvious in my mind. I didn’t think the writers would ever go there, but the set up is just so explicit, now I’m not sure. I don’t think they’d actually make Eloise / Cressida canon, but I do think they’re testing the waters for wlw Eloise. And it makes perfect sense.

First off, the character is queer (I’ll hold off from labeling her a lesbian outright, because there’s definitely room for other identities like bi, demi, ace…. etc.) Even in the books. I legitimately think Julia Quinn accidentally wrote a sapphic character and then didn’t know what to do with her. So what we got is “To Sir Phillip, With Love”, widely considered to be one of the worst in the series. Believe me, if there’s any story that could stand to deviate from the books, it’s this one. And the story could so easily be adapted to a wlw romance, it would be a wasted opportunity not to do it. Like… the story would be better if they tweaked it to fit a queer canon. AND it could be done in a historically accurate way to shut up the naysayers that “a lesbian storyline wouldn’t fit in this universe.” How? Allow me to explain.

*SPOILERS FOR BRIDGERTON SERIES BOOK 5*

In the book, Eloise strikes up a correspondence with Sir Phillip Crane. Yes, THAT Phillip, the one currently married to Marina from season 1&2. Marina kills herself because she can’t stand to be married to Phillip and deal with their children in the wake of her lover / his brother’s death. His initial interest in Eloise is to find a mother for his children. She is intrigued by his intelligence and decides she doesn't want to be alone, but isn’t necessarily eager to marry or have a family. Due to romance novel shenanigans, she runs away to Phillip's house and is forced to marry him. Even as they grow to kind of love each other, it's far from some grand romance. It’s the very definition of “settling”. The most interesting part is the narrative structure of their story being told through letters in the beginning. We could keep all that, but make it gay.

*Imagine*

Eloise meets some dapper gentlemen new to the marriage mart. We’ll call him Emmett. Very little is known about Emmett and his family as they keep largely to themselves at their estate in the countryside. The only thing that’s widely known is the family suffered a tragic accident where the man of the house and his oldest daughter died, leaving his son (the other twin) to take on the responsibility of rank and title very early. Emmet is making a rare appearance in London to find a wife (there are rumors of stipulations in his inheritance requiring a match). ALL the debutantes are fawning over him because he’s mysterious and extraordinarily good-looking. One might even say “pretty”… To everyone’s great surprise the season’s most eligible bachelor takes a special interest in Eloise after overhearing her talking about her disdain for the social convention of marriage, and how she would only consider it if it were an in-name-only, marriage of convenience. Emmett strikes up a conversation with Eloise and she is taken by his humor, wit and shockingly deep empathy for the limitations society puts on women. They continue to gravitate to each other through the first few events of the season, but Emmett has to return home suddenly because of a family emergency. Eloise is shocked to find herself disappointed, but they promise to write. Cue the correspondence romance.

Eloise grows more and more smitten with Emmett every letter she receives, but still has the same reservations about marriage especially when she thinks of the intimacy a relationship like that would require. When Emmett hints that he may want more than friendship, Eloise's feelings get the better of her and she goes to visit Emmett unannounced. He is shocked to see her, but let's her stay and she gets to know his mother and two younger sisters. The Bridgertons go looking for Eloise, worried something has happened to her. When she is found to have been staying for days in an unwed man's home without a chaperone, the potential scandal causes Anthony to force Eloise and Emmett to marry. Surprisingly, Emmett actually agrees so Eloise does too (all of this is essentially what happens in the book).

Eloise confesses to Emmett that she's nervous/resistant to physical intimacy, but he assures her they never have to be together that way. In fact, he would prefer the marriage of convenience they always talked about. Eloise is relieved until their kiss at the wedding sparks an attraction she wasn't expecting. They spend the first month or so of their marriage sleeping in separate rooms, enjoying each other's company, and letting the tension build. One night, Eloise's control and curiosity finally snaps and she goes to Emmett's room to initiate a physical relationship. She catches Emmett off guard in his sleeping clothes which makes it VERY clear... Emmett is a woman (cliffhanger of episode 4, and where we deviate from book canon to make it queer).

After the initial shock, Eloise allows her new "husband" to explain. Emmett is really Emma, the daughter believed to have died in a carriage accident with her father so many years ago. It was her twin brother that actually died, but since there were no other male heirs, Emma's family fortune would have gone to a distant uncle who is cruel and abusive. To save them of that fate, Emma's mother conspired with the local coroner to make it look like Emma was the one who died, so "Emmett" could inherit everything. Emma has been living as Emmett ever since, successfully keeping up the deception by keeping a low profile in society. The only reason Emma came to London that year is because her uncle died, and a cousin had come around asking questions hoping to inherit. She thought getting married would help secure her identity as Emmett and the cousin would back off. At first Eloise is outraged. She feels betrayed by Emma's duplicity, and is terrified if any of this ever got out everyone they know would be ruined forever. She agrees to keep the secret to save her family's reputation, but shuns Emma. Eventually, Emma (already aware that she's in love with Eloise) attempts to make amends and Eloise is charmed enough that she relaxes back into the relationship they had before the Big Reveal. The only problem is the attraction is still there, even more so now that Eloise knows the truth. Things come to a head, and they go at it Bridgerton style.

Emma and Eloise live happily in a true marriage for a bit until Cressida and Penelope come for a visit. They both find out about Emma, but are sworn to secrecy. Pen easily swears her loyalty (having already suspected Eloise), but Cressida is sickened. In a rage, she threatens to out them all, and storms back to London. Eloise follows her and begs Cressida to keep the secret, and tries to explain why the "wrong" feelings she has for Emma are very right for her. To Eloise's surprise, Cressida isn't upset about what she's doing with Emma, but who she's doing it with. She didn't know what they're doing was an option; that she was an option. Cressida confesses that if she'd known a life with Eloise was a choice she could make, it's the life she would have chosen. Eloise lets Cressida down easy by explaining they didn't have that choice. Everyone in the ton knows who they are. The only reason her relationship with Emma works is because of the ruse that allows Emma to be Emmett. Cressida takes this in stride, and vows to keep the secret, but her mother overhears and causes the biggest scandal London Society has ever seen.

The Bridgertons and a few friends (like Lady Danbury) are as understanding as possible, but the rest of the ton is rabid. Things escalate to the point where Emma and Eloise have to appear before the Queen. Emma pleads her case about pretending to save her family, and insists that Eloise didn't know until well after they were married so she's innocent. Eloise can't help herself and gets on her soapbox about the way society limits women, and that the Queen should understand their plight. Shockingly, she does. She annuls their "marriage" (because they didn't consummate anything... RIGHT?!) but she agrees to let Emma control her family's estate until one of her sisters produces a male heir. After that, she and Eloise will receive a pension from the Crown so they can live independently (the real Queen Charlotte actually did this for suspected historical sapphic couple The Ladies of Llangollen). Since Emma and Eloise would never be able to find husbands now, they decide that they'll just be two spinsters growing old together in their house in the countryside. You know... just two gal pals. No one believes that shit, but they rarely interact with the ton, so they're largely left alone to live as they please.

Happy ending, close to canon, historically accurate, and super gay. It's not that hard. You're welcome.

#did i really just fanfic a whole season of Bridgerton to prove a point?#of course i did!#GIVE ME WHAT I WANT!!!#bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #cressida cowper #creloise #eloise x cressida

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rad-batson · 2 years ago

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Billy Batson and Damian Wayne being weirdly good friends (ft. the occasional Jon Kent)

Billy befriends Damian after the JL learns his real identity. Batman approached him and told him they should meet since they’re the same age.

At first, it’s awkward because Damian isn’t interested in making friends, and Billy’s mad that Batman is essentially sending him to the kids' table. Until…

Damian: “Why must my father insist that I socialize? I can handle myself!” Billy: “Thank you! I’ve been on my own since I was six. I don’t need an adult to tell me what to do.” Damian: “…I like you.” Billy: “Wanna spy on the Justice League?” Damian: “Yes.”

Batman immediately regrets his decision.

At first, the two don’t really talk outside of meetings or happenstance, but when they do, they’re like twins. They know exactly what the other is thinking at all times. (The adults are terrified.)

Both end up bonding over their upbringing, specifically the fact that they were abused/traumatized/malnourished for several years. That marks the point where they start talking regularly.

Damian nearly jumps out of his skin the first time Billy speaks to him in Arabic (courtesy of the Islamic Prophet, Solomon.) They now speak exclusively in Arabic when they gossip.

They will cut a bitch. Do not get on either’s bad side.

Every time one of them says something out of pocket, the other one high-fives them. Even Jon is concerned (and very jealous.)

Billy is required to attend the same school as the Teen Titans and YJ for a bit as a condition of staying in the JL so he and Damian end up taking a few classes together.

Billy “I have Zeus on speed dial” Batson and Damian “I got a PhD in The Classics at age six” Wayne proceed to roast their history professors in the back of the classroom for all of the misinformation.

Damian: “Okay so I really need a human skull, but you can’t ask why.” Billy: “As long as you also don’t ask why.” *pulls out several pristine human skulls from pocket dimension* “Take your pick.” Damian: “…this one.” Jon: “what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck”

They’re both eerily good at schooling their emotions due to countless years of emotional abuse and neglect. If anything goes wrong during a mission, it’s like a switch is flipped. They are suddenly completely level-headed.

Damian gifts Billy a PC that he built himself so they can play games together without so much lag. (It’s literally just Minecraft on creative mode. They design a working amusement park together.)

Both have been permanently banned from all zoos on the eastern seaboard. Damian tried to “liberate” the ostriches, and Billy taught the gorillas swear words in sign language.

Everyone Else: “We need to find civilization on this desert planet we crashed landed on or we’ll starve.” Billy and Damian: “The human body can go ten days without food.” Everyone: “…Are you okay?” Billy and Damian: “Not important.”

Billy, Jon, Colin, and Damian have a group chat where they regularly place bets on dumb mishaps the adults get themselves into. The one rule is they can’t bet with cash. Thus they create a trading system made entirely of local snacks, Pokémon cards, supernatural knick-knacks, and dares.

#billy batson #damian wayne #Billy: The Rock of Eternity has everything. Jon: THat doEs NoT MakE iT BetTEr #dc universe #dc #shazam #dc captain marvel #captain marvel dc #dc robin #robin damian #jon kent #jonathan kent #batman #colin wilkes #batfam

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sugrhigh · 9 months ago

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BACKSTAGE - ( m.s )

REQUESTED**

summary- your best friend caught the eye of the bass player in a band local to boston, your hometown, so you’re invited to the second to last stop of their US tour. they can definitely put on a show, and all of them are very welcoming when you meet them backstage. then there’s the asshole grumpy drummer with the inflated ego, who can’t seem to stop staring.

warnings- cursing, smoking, drinking, ???

band au (triplets are in their mid 20s)

drummer!matt x fem!reader (this song ^^ inspired me and it’s good af so i’m including it)

a/n: this has been brewing for a while and i kinda forking love this concept, i hope i brought it to life well! hope u enjoy and as always my inbox is open for whateva #kisses ****part 2 to come

@fawnchives @55sturn @teapartyprincess4two @l9vesick @sturnlova @cupidsword @junnniiieee07 @mattnchrisworld @cherrypostsposts

“are you sure you want to do this?” you ask her as you two linger by the bar at the back of the venue.

people are clearing out, all happily chattering after an incredible concert. you have to admit that it was a great performance, and the sold out crowd helped.

they’re a pretty talented band. and the bass player really wants your best friend.

all it took to get him interested was a single comment on one of his recent posts. adelaide is undeniably gorgeous, and she’s also built a decent following through her recent modeling jobs.

she stands out in any comment section and in crowds like these, so it makes sense that he hit her up. that’s why you’re here anyways.

mister bass player had invited you guys to the first of two sold out shows in this place. it’s the last stop on the band’s US leg, in their hometown, which happens to be where you and adelaide live.

“yes dude, for the hundredth time, im sure. and he’s waiting on us, so stop stalling. i know you have more balls than that.” adelaide gives you a pointed look.

you can’t help but roll your eyes. “i promise you i don’t care enough about what these guys think to be scared.”

“now that sounds more like you.” she teases as she pulls her phone out of her back pocket.

the light from the screen illuminates her face, and you watch as she taps something out quickly.

“chris said someone is gonna come get us.”

“can’t wait.” you smile sarcastically as you respond.

addy doesn’t even get the chance to yell at you about your attitude before a big buff guy dressed in all black approaches the two of you, dark hair slicked against his skull. SECURITY is printed across his jacket in bold yellow letters.

“you ladies enjoy the show?” his voice is deep, which matches his huge stature perfectly.

“oh, it was amazing! i’m assuming you’re jason?” adelaide beams at him, pushing her dark curls out of her face.

he nods once. “that’s me. you guys ready to head backstage?”

“yup, just lead the way.”

the two of you follow jason back down toward the front of the stage, around the protective barricade to a door that almost blends right in with the venue’s dark walls.

he knocks on it three times. another tall man opens it for him and ushers the two of you inside before people start to pay too much attention.

“dressing rooms this way.” the new guy leads you through the backstage area, down a narrow hallway until he stops in front of one of the doors. there’s a little placard with their band name on it, which is cute.

this time nobody thinks to knock, because it’s already pretty loud. once the door swings open the sound is even more overwhelming.

you count seven people, all sitting around on the couches and vanity seats in the dim lighting. three of them are nearly identical, which surprises you. you thought there were only two brothers in the band.

several bottles of champagne crowd the coffee table already, and they’ve only been off the stage for ten minutes.

all of them are watching the two of you now, and it makes you want to crawl out of your skin.

“look who it is.” one of the twins (or apparently triplets) that’s sitting on the couch sets his glass down and gets up to greet you.

his brown hair is long, longer than the others, hidden slightly by a black boston hat. he’s dressed in a celtics jersey and baggy jeans, clearly happy to be representing his city tonight.

“good to see you, chris.” adelaide smiles into his chest as he pulls her into a tight embrace that lasts for a few seconds too long.

“i promise it’s better to see you.” he smirks as he finally pulls away, not even trying to hide his gaze as he admires the way her outfit hugs her body.

then he turns to you, and you suddenly feel like a spotlight is shining directly in your face.

“it’s nice to meet you too, y/n. addy tells me you’re even cooler than she is.” chris says, wrapping his arm around your friends shoulder lazily.

“can’t argue with that.” you shrug with a grin, impressed that he remembered your name without having to ask.

he looks around and clears his throat, and the others stop chatting. “everyone, this is adelaide and y/n. introduce yourselves.”

one of the clones that was sitting beside chris speaks up now. “shouldn’t they know who we are?”

he looks directly at you with an uninterested gaze that’s somehow still so intense you almost lose your breath. he’s in all black, fluffy hair styled a bit shorter than chris’s.

his harley davidson muscle tee is cut off right above his black pants, revealing just the smallest sliver of his stomach as he leans back against the cushions casually. so many tattoos, so many rings.

it’s annoying that you notice this, even despite how pissed off you are at his stupid question.

“i hate to burst your bubble, but i wouldn’t be able to guess your name even if someone put a gun to my head.” you bite back without thinking, and laughter erupts around you.

“that’s exactly what you deserve for a dickhead comment like that, matt.” another currently-unnamed guy says.

he’s on the other sofa with the last of the carbon-copy brothers, arm around the waist of the beautiful girl that’s perched on his lap. the couple smile at you and adelaide.

“feel free to ignore him. i’m nathan, lead guitar.” he introduces himself.

“i’m his girlfriend jen.” the dark-haired woman chimes in, offering you a friendly wave.

“im nick,” the triplet sitting next to them finally reveals his name, “i’m not in the band, i’m just their tour photographer. my brothers got the musical talent.”

“kids a genius with a camera though.” chris adds, still sidled up against adelaide.

“names sam. i’m the singer.” a blonde boy with hair cropped close to his skull says with a nod.

he’s sitting on one of the vanity chairs that’ve been set up in a half circle, tipping the rest of his champagne back after he speaks.

“and i’m just his older sister gabby.” the girl beside him sticks her hand out, and you take a step forward to shake it.

“dont say just. and i love your necklace.” you compliment the barbed wire chain around her throat, and she waves her free hand at you, flushing slightly.

“you’re sweet.”

“it’s nice to meet you all. the show was fantastic, we had a blast.” adelaide addresses everyone with that award-winning grin you know and love.

chris leads her over to the couch and they sit down, pressed against each other like they’re attached at the hip. you have to admit it’s a little cute. you take the open chair next to gabby, opting to avoid sitting next to matt just to be near your friend.

“are you both from boston too?” sam asks, reaching to refill his drink.

jen gets up from nate’s lap to grab two more glasses from one of the cabinets, which is a kind gesture that you weren’t really expecting.

“yeah. we met in college and ended up staying in the city together.” you answer as he moves to pour your champagne next.

“that makes you what, 22? i am about to serve you alcohol.”

you can’t help but laugh, so adelaide answers instead. “we’re 25, but i’ll take that as a compliment.”

he puts his hands up in apology as you grab your glass. “so not recent graduates then, my bad.”

you can still feel matt staring at you, and when you meet his gaze over the rim of your drink he doesn’t shy away. your own eyes narrow slightly, because you dont understand why he won’t fucking quit it.

“what do you do for work?” nathan questions, and you finally break out of your trance to look over.

“i was in publishing for a bit, but i mainly model now.” addy responds first.

chris’s hand goes to grip her thigh endearingly as she sips her champagne. “can’t you tell?”

“stop it.” she nudges him slightly, though you can see a faint blush appear beneath her bronzed skin.

nate rolls his eyes before looking your way. “and you?”

“i’m a media manager for a few different brands.”

“really? like who?”

it’s matt speaking, you know even before you turn your head to meet his cold eyes once more. he’s challenging you, inked arms crossed over his chest defensively as he waits for an answer.

“well for one, those pants you’re wearing? i work with that company.” you reply bluntly.

you’d recognize those cargos anywhere, the faded star patches are a dead giveaway. matt’s face drops in surprise, and nick snorts, giving you a nod of approval that doesn’t go unnoticed.

“i can’t believe you work for vamped. we all get like, half of our wardrobe from there.” he admits.

“raiding her closet is a real treat, trust me.” adelaide makes it sound like a joke, but she actually does love to come over and steal all your favorite pieces.

it would be annoying if you didn’t love her so much.

jen smiles, cuddled back up on her boyfriend’s knee as she looks between the two of you. “i like you girls already.”

“yeah, and i respect anyone who can humble matt that quickly.” sam nods along in agreement, and you recognize that he’s talking about you in particular.

“oh, so i take it he’s like this all the time then?” your question is directed at sam, but you’re looking at the subject himself as you ask it.

“pretty much.” chris nudges matt with a silly grin, and he scowls in return, though he’s still watching you.

you can’t decipher what he’s feeling, what he’s thinking, and you don’t like it one bit. to be fair, you don’t know him at all yet, but you know the type.

you’ve met enough high profile people through vamped to understand that this kid thinks he’s some kind of god, probably because his friends tell him so.

but you’re not his friend, and you don’t owe him any politeness if he can’t bother to reciprocate it. you keep your eyes on him as sam redirects the conversation away from the two of you, another challenge of your own, and he finally looks away a moment later.

you take it as a win.

a few rounds of drinks later you can feel the heat creeping up your cheeks, blissfully tipsy as you continue to swap stories about anything and everything with the rest of the group.

chris and adelaide are in their own little world, whispering shit back and forth to each other like school girls.

matt hasn’t said a single word to you since you name-dropped your highest paying client just to embarrass him. he watches the rest of you interact, though that burning gaze of his always seems to meet yours anyways.

its driving you crazy, and you’re itching for a quick pause from the socialization, as nice as (almost) everyone has been.

“i’m gonna go for a smoke.” you address the group, mainly adelaide, and you’re met with a couple nods.

“same.” matt replies gruffly, and your heart falters.

of fucking course.

he pushes himself to a standing position before you can protest, or say anything really. his shirt is even more cropped now that he’s stretched to his full height, and you’re staring straight at his exposed happy trail and v-line. you’re pretty sure you see the top of a small tattoo by his hip.

your mouth goes dry, and you busy yourself grabbing your little purse from the floor.

“hurry back, i wanna hear more about this PR box fiasco.” gabby points a finger at you as you get up next, and you smile even though you know it’s a weak attempt.

“i’ll be quick.” you promise her.

adelaide gives you a little wave goodbye, which doesn’t quell your nerves as you turn to follow matt, who doesn’t wait for you to catch up.

he just throws the dressing room door open carelessly, letting it swing back so you have to stop it with your hand before it hits you. you glare at the back of his head, though you follow him in silence because you don’t know the way outside.

another security guard stands in the hall, and matt greets him with a quick nod as he heads outside, once again neglecting to hold it for you.

you mutter a quick hello to the man before stepping onto the little back patio. it’s the end of summer, edging toward fall now, so there’s just a slight chill in the air.

he’s already leaned up against the brick wall, situated on one of the steps down to the gated parking lot. for the first time tonight, he’s actually not looking at you, and it’s somewhat of a relief.

you dig around in your bag to retrieve your crinkled carton of cigarettes, flipping the lid open to pull one out and stick it between your lips. you’re about to put them away when matt clears his throat.

“can i bum one?” he asks softly.

it’s the least aggressive he’s been all night, and it throws you so off guard you can’t find anything to say back so him. so you just nod slowly, grabbing another cigarette for him and passing it over.

“thanks.”

“you got a light? couldn’t bring mine in.” you mutter, though your words slur because of the cig that’s between your teeth.

matt nods, ruffling his hair with one hand as the other slips into his back pocket. he pulls out a red disposable lighter and ignites it in one swift motion.

he holds it up to your mouth, burning the end of the thin roll of tobacco. he’s staring at your lips, thinking about how soft they look wrapped around that filter paper.

matt doesn’t want to be wondering what it would be like to feel them against his own, because you embarrassed him. he hates being embarrassed, especially by someone who walked right into his dressing room like she owned it.

you’re unlike any girl he’s ever met, and he’s fucking entranced.

you inhale, glancing to meet his blue eyes as the smoke fill your lungs, completely unaware of his thoughts. it’s familiar, and it calms you down a little bit.

you pull it from your mouth to exhale, watching as he lights his own before slipping the plastic device back into his pocket. he slumps back up against the wall, kicking one leg up to steady himself.

it’s silent again for a moment while you both enjoy the brief hits of nicotine, letting the clouds swirl up into the night. you both go to ash at the same time, and he breaks the tension first.

“so, what did you think of the show, sweetheart? your friend spoke for you, but i’m sure you have your own opinion.” he says, one side of his mouth tilted up.

you weigh up his statement, rewinding to an hour ago. you guys were in the upper wing, right by the stage in the front row. the view was great, and the energy was definitely there.

you remember matt, sweaty and focused as he banged on those fucking drums like his life depended on it. your eyes were drawn to him for a lot of the performance, to the intensity he brought to the stage.

that was before you knew about his superiority complex, though you should have been expecting it. he is, after all, a rising rock star.

“it was good.” you reply bluntly, shrugging as you bring your cigarette back to your lips.

he fully smiles now, though it’s not a warm one. then he follows your lead and takes another drag as well, his tattoos shifting as his muscles flex and relax due to the movement.

“don’t fucking humor me.” matt finally says seriously, and you narrow your eyes.

“i wasn’t, but it doesn’t matter either way. you think you’re the shit regardless.” you snap back.

matt softens a bit at your tone, but he’s also backed into a corner. you confuse him, because you’re impossible to read. that’s never happened to him before, and it’s annoyingly enticing.

“you don’t know a damn thing about me.”

“i know your type.” you argue sourly, sucking in another mouthful of smoke.

he turns his full attention to you now, shifting so he can look you right in the eyes. you wish it didn’t intimidate you so much, but the way he’s been leering at you all night makes you sweat.

“and what type would that be, hm?” matt goads.

you nudge at the concrete with the toe of your sneaker, pausing briefly to compose your answer.

“you’re arrogant, which either comes from the fame or the praise, or most likely both. in fact, you’re so cocky that you probably can’t be around anyone without patronizing them. i bet they all tell you how talented and badass you are, but you wanna know what i think?” you ask him, taking a hit of your cigarette for dramatic effect.

and it works. matt is hanging onto every word, waiting for you to deliver the final punch as you take a step closer, blowing the vapor toward him.

“i think that the whole time, they’re just waiting for you to shut the fuck up.”

for a second the world is still, and neither of you move an inch. he’s just studying you, eyes skipping across your face like he’s trying to commit it to memory.

“you want to know what i think?” he questions you quietly, and you can’t help but watch his lips as they move.

so pretty and pink, and you know he would taste like tobacco and sweat. you want to give in, but you won’t. one thing about you is that you’re stubborn, and you refuse to make the first move for this asshole.

“i think you like it.” matt finishes, so close to your lips now that he’s practically whispering his words against them.

just as you think he’s about to kiss you, to give you the power you crave, he tosses his cigarette to the ground and snuffs it out before stepping around you.

the only reminder that the moment was real is the door slamming shut behind him.

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #drummer!matt #fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #band au #matthew sturniolo x reader #Spotify

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slaymitchabernathy · 3 months ago

Text

The Legacy

“Daddy! Daddy look what Mommy did to my hair!”

Coriolanus looks down at his daughter, his heart and soul. His Ceraphina.

Born four years ago on a stormy night, Ceraphina stole his heart and never gave it back. She’s been an absolute light in their lives, always making them laugh and smile.

She looks nearly identical to Soarynn which only furthers his need to protect her, to always keep her safe from any harm that might come her way. It often leads him to wonder what their other children might look like should they have more. Soarynn has spoken about it many times, expanding their family and giving Ceraphina a sibling but only time will tell.

He smiles down at his daughter who proudly shows him the bow that Soarynn has fastened in her wavy blonde hair. Many things can be said for the Snow family and what they’re known for.

Some view him as a dictator rather than a President although most people who think that live in the Districts. They have no love for him or his family. Others see him as a wonderful President who only has the best intentions for his beloved country. Those are the people who he’s gladly welcoming into his home tonight for the Presidential Gala.

He’s just about finished with getting ready but he’ll always have a moment to spare for his darling daughter who gazes up at him with eyes identical to her mother’s. “Well, don’t you look fabulous darling? And this bow? Some of the best work I’ve ever seen. You’re sure to be the center of attention tonight.”

Ceraphina’s eyes dazzle at his words of praise and she smiles, “Thank you, Daddy! I can’t wait to go to the chocolate fountain.” Coriolanus grins because he knows that Ceraphina would spend the rest of her life next to the chocolate fountain if she could. It’s also Soarynn’s favorite part of the dessert table which further proves that Ceraphina is her twin.

“Yes, after you eat all your dinner hmm?” He asks while fixing his tie. He can't afford to look bad tonight, not with the amount of cameras that will be snapping pictures of them. Ceraphina’s small hands grip the marble countertop as she tries to peer at her reflection but she’s still too little to see.

Coriolanus scoops her up and places her on the counter, basking in her giggles when he tickles her. “Tickle monster!” She cries, shrieking with laughter. When Ceraphina was younger, she was terrified of sleeping alone in her bedroom due to her fear of the closet and what lay inside of it when the lights were out.

It got to the point where she’d bawl her eyes out when Soarynn or Coriolanus tried to put her to sleep. It didn’t matter how many books they read or how many songs Soarynn sang, she refused to be left alone. Coriolanus could easily see where the problem was going and how it would lead to Ceraphina sleeping in their bed and he just couldn’t have that.

So, the tickle monster was born.

He told Ceraphina that there was a monster in the closet and that he was very good friends with the monster and sometimes the monster took over and tortured her with tickles. It solved the problem rather quickly which he was glad for, even though Soarynn hated how he got her riled up right before bedtime.

“He’s returned,” Coriolanus agrees, sneaking in a few more tickles before ceasing his attack. Ceraphina giggles and turns to look at their reflections, her blue-gray eyes going wide when she sees herself. “Daddy?”

“Yes, my darling?”

“Do I look pretty like Mommy?”

Coriolanus raises his eyebrows at the question and he doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Of course you do darling. Your Mommy is the most beautiful woman in all of Panem and you are the most beautiful girl in all of Panem. No one could ever compare to the two of you.”

Ceraphina smiles and nods at her reflection as if all is right in the world after receiving that answer, “Do I look like Mommy?”

Coriolanus hums and grabs his favorite cologne before liberally applying it to his neck, he can’t afford to smell bad either. “Yes darling, you and Mommy are practically twins. You’re a spitting image of her.” She truly is, with her wavy hair and her startling eyes. Coriolanus is glad that Ceraphina has taken after Soarynn when it comes to looks.

Soarynn who has been so openly praised for her youthful beauty and charming personality, her kind demeanor, and her graceful femininity. Soarynn is perfect which automatically makes Ceraphina perfect since she spends nearly every waking moment with her.

With an entire country to run, Coriolanus doesn’t get to see Ceraphina a lot during the week. Soarynn however, has dedicated her every waking moment to taking care of their daughter and Coriolanus couldn’t be more pleased with her devotion as a mother.

It’s as if her ears are burning because a moment later, Soarynn walks into the bathroom looking gorgeous as always. She’s dressed in a floor-length gown, black to match his own attire it seems. The dress is strapless and clings to her figure in a most flattering way and it has a slit going up her right leg. Her hair is cascading down her back, flawless as always, and her face, her beautiful face.

Coriolanus nearly gets lost looking at it until Ceraphina voices his feelings for him.

“Mommy you look so pretty!”

Soarynn smiles at their daughter who thinks of her mother as the moon and stars and places a loving hand on her cheek, “Thank you my sweet darling. And don’t you look so beautiful in your pink dress? Did you show your father your bow?”

Ceraphina nods proudly, eyeing Coriolanus to confirm that she did in fact show off her hair bow. He chuckles and places a hand on Soarynn’s waist, admiring the stunning creature that is his wife, “She did, in fact, we were just talking about how you two look alike.”

Soarynn’s smile widens as she runs a loving hand through Ceraphina’s hair, “Well if I’m half as kind as you are darling then that’s more than enough for me. Now why don’t you go find nanny so she can help you with your shoes?”

Ceraphina pouts but one stern look from Coriolanus quickly resolves any tantrums and Soarynn carefully helps her down from the counter before she runs off to find her nanny.

Rarely do they ever enlist the help of others, of outsiders, but on nights like this where the drinks are flowing and their attention is pulled every which way, a nanny is more than necessary.

Coriolanus pulls Soarynn against him and she giggles, allowing him to press kisses up and down her neck, “You’re terribly possessive darling,” she purrs, her nails gently scratching up and down the back of his neck, his favorite spot.

Coriolanus places one last kiss before pulling away and staring her in the eyes, nearly losing his breath in the process, “Only with you my love,” he assures her, “only with you.”

Soarynn sighs and rests her head on his shoulder, seemingly content for them to just stay here instead of going downstairs to the Gala that awaits them. “Remind me of anyone important tonight,” she murmurs, her hand instantly finding his.

Coriolanus places a kiss on her temple before answering, “Quintus Heavensbee for starters, also the new Head Game Maker, Arthus Crane, and his wife will be attending.” Soarynn hums and her hand comes to rest on the necklace she almost always wears, a locket with photos of Coriolanus, Ceraphina, and Petunia.

Speaking of Petunia…where is she?

Coriolanus doesn’t mind his wife’s cat for the most part but he does always make sure to keep her tucked away when they have guests over like this.

"Well I'm sure tonight will be wonderful," Soarynn says with a sigh, "I just hope that Ceraphina will go down without a fuss." Ceraphina is a sweet angelic child, however, she often refuses to go to bed during things like this where she feels like she's leaving the party. She eventually gives in but it can be rather tiresome when Soarynn and Coriolanus have guests to entertain.

He gives her an encouraging squeeze, "It'll be perfect darling. I promise."

꧁ ꧂

"Oh, she's just precious."

Coriolanus basks in the compliments that Ceraphina receives while she plays on the grass with her teddy bear. It's normally frowned upon for children to be playing on the dirty ground during a party but Ceraphina, it seems, is the only exception. And besides, the Mansion's grounds are so well kept, not a blade of grass is out of place.

"You'd do well to give her a sibling to play with," Festus Creed says to him, nudging Coriolanus with his elbow. Coriolanus looks over at Soarynn who's standing amongst her own friends, laughing whilst sipping their champagne.

He'd love another child, she'd love another child. Perhaps they should really start trying again. Soarynn never got her implant put back in after giving birth to Ceraphina, but they haven't been keeping track of her cycle to know exactly when to really try.

Perhaps it's time to start back up again.

"I'll work on that," he says teasingly, taking a drink of his whiskey. The Gala is going extremely well, photos have been taken, compliments given and drinks have been flowing.

"Ceraphina darling, it's time for bed," Soarynn calls, approaching their pouting daughter. All the women fawn over how adorable she is when interacting with Soarynn who easily calms their daughters pouting with the promise of Petunia sleeping in her room.

Ceraphina loves Petunia, she’s always chasing her around the house and forcing her to partake in her tea parties. To have Petunia spend the night in her room is a treat as special as any. And that’s seems to do the trick because moments later she’s running over to bid Coriolanus a goodnight.

“Goodnight Daddy! I’ll see you in the morning!”

Despite being the President of Panem, feared by so many and respected by few, Coriolanus doesn’t hesitate to get down on one knee to press a kiss to her cheek, “Goodnight my darling. Have the sweetest dreams.”

Ceraphina nods and runs back over to Soarynn who takes her hand and begins to lead them up the many, many stairs that lead back up to the terrace. Coriolanus watches them once they reach the top where Ceraphina’s nanny is waiting for them.

Soarynn bends down to give Ceraphina a hug and kiss goodnight before she’s entrusted with the nanny for the rest of the night.

“Persephone won’t stop complaining about how much is left to do with the nursery,” Festus groans which pulls Coriolanus back into the conversation, “she’s acting like it’ll be the end of the world if we don’t have the perfect curtains or photographs.”

Coriolanus chuckles, remembering how adamant Soarynn had been on perfecting Ceraphina’s nursery while she was pregnant with her. “Women tend to fuss over these things my friend,” Coriolanus tells him solemnly, “all we can do is foot the bill and let them do whatever they want.”

Soarynn had been an angel all things considered during her pregnancy. Despite some morning nausea and the occasional snippy attitude when she was nearing the end of the grueling nine months, Coriolanus had nothing to complain about.

In the end, she gave him something he could never replace.

His legacy.

꧁ ꧂

There comes a point at every party when the drinks have taken their toll on the guests, including Coriolanus.

His head is slightly buzzing with the amount of alcohol he’s consumed but some of the other guests are much worse than he is. At least he can stand.

“I’ve heard rumors of an uprising in One,” Livia Cardew murmurs to his right which causes his head to snap in her direction. She’s talking to Soarynn, it’s a private conversation but he has no issue butting in where he sees fit. “We have absolutely nothing to worry about in One,” he tells Livia who rolls her eyes in return.

“Why not? Because you said so? We both know how much those people hate us Coriolanus. They’d do anything to get under our skin,” Livia says, looking at Soarynn who simply purses her lips.

Before Coriolanus can say anything, he sees a white blur run across the ballroom floor. He must be drunk because for a moment, he thought he saw Petunia. Which is impossible because Petunia is upstairs, in Ceraphina’s room asleep. They never let her roam around during things like this.

After taking a look at Soarynn’s face however, he begins to wonder if he really did imagine it.

Soarynn breaks away from the conversation without so much as a polite excuse as she walks towards the other end of the ballroom, her husband and good friend long forgotten.

“Where’s she going?” Livia asks and Coriolanus can only shake his head, “I think we both saw something. I’m not quite sure though. Would you excuse me for a moment?”

Coriolanus doesn’t wait for a reply, he just makes his way over to the doors that lead into the dining room where they always eat when they have large gatherings such as this one. Two Peacekeepers are stationed by the doors and both nod at him once they notice his approach, “Have you seen my wife?” He asks, wondering where Soarynn could have gone.

If Petunia was down here then they definitely would have heard about it. All of Soarynn’s friends adore Petunia and always fuss over her to his dismay.

“Yes sir. She just went upstairs a minute ago. She was carrying the cat.”

Petunia was down here.

Why was Petunia down here?

How would Petunia be able to get all the way downstairs if she was in Ceraphina’s room?

Coriolanus frowns while he tries to come up with a reasonable answer as to why Petunia was downstairs when he hears a scream.

Soarynn’s scream.

And he’s running. Running down the great hall. Running up the stairs. Running towards Ceraphina’s room where he finds the doors wide open, Petunia darting out and down the hall.

What he finds inside the room is blood curdling.

Soarynn on her knees, stifling her sobs while staring at Ceraphina’s nanny, dead on the ground.

His eyes dart to the pink canopy bed where Ceraphina sleeps and he finds it empty.

Empty.

Someone took her.

Someone took his daughter. His baby girl.

“Ceraphina?” He calls, looking around to see if maybe she’s hiding somewhere. She loves to hide, to play games like hide-and-seek but this isn’t a game, it’s not funny. “Ceraphina Snow come out here this instant,” he says, his voice wavering despite wanting to sound authoritative.

Soarynn gasps for air and he turns his attention to her, to his beautiful wife sobbing in the floor, “Soarynn? Soarynn darling what happened? Who did this? Are you hurt?”

Soarynn shakes her head, going to wipe her tears but deciding against it at the last moment. She has nothing to hide here. “They took her Coriolanus,” she whispers, “I don’t know who but they took her and killed the nanny.”

The Peacekeepers finally made their way up and there all wide eyed when they take in the sight of Ceraphina’s room in disarray. The bedsheets thrown off the bed, toys scattered, the nanny dead.

“Search the house,” Coriolanus tells them, “search every room, every corner, every hallway. Find my daughter.”

They immediately take off to search the rest of the house and most likely question the guests. Everyone is a suspect now.

Coriolanus crouches down and carefully wraps his arms around Soarynn’s trembling frame, “We'll find her darling, we’ll find her. She’s probably somewhere in the house.”

Soarynn lets out a whimper and his heart breaks even more, he's never seen his wife like this, unable to speak, to cope. A million thoughts race through his mind while he holds Soarynn.

Who did this? How did people get into the Mansion? Was this an inside job?

It's no secret that many people hate Coriolanus Snow and would do anything to hurt him, but taking his child is on another level. There will be hell to pay.

He can hear shouting, the guests are being questioned no doubt. This had to be done by someone they knew, someone they trusted inside of their home.

But who?

Soarynn is in no condition to get off the floor but Coriolanus can't just sit here restless while his daughter is out there somewhere, probably terrified out of her mind. "I'll be back," he says to Soarynn whose eyes have gone vacant, "I'll go find her I promise." He presses a gentle kiss to the side of her head before standing up and leaving the room.

He finds the ballroom in disarray, everyone is shouting while Peacekeepers yell even louder. Festus finds him in the crowd and grabs his arm, "Coriolanus what the hell is going on?" He shouts over the noise. His wife Persephone is right behind him and she looks flushed. The Capitolites aren't used to being pushed around it seems.

"Someone took Ceraphina," Coriolanus says, his voice hollow. Saying it out loud makes it feel so much more real. Like it's the truth. Both Festus and Persephone gasp and Persephone places her hand on her chest, "Oh my...oh my goodness. Have you searched the grounds for her? Perhaps she wanted to go play outside."

Coriolanus feels his eyes light up at the suggestion, maybe she's right, maybe Ceraphina slipped out of bed before her nanny was shot. Coriolanus forges forward towards the terrace doors, ignoring the shouts he gets from his guests asking what's warranted this treatment.

"The President's daughter has been taken!" One of the Peacekeepers shouts, causing a hush to fall over the room. "Until she is found, we will be questioning everyone who attended the Gala tonight. Everyone is a suspect until proven otherwise. If you have any information regarding her disappearance, let us know."

Coriolanus pushes the large doors open and he's hit with the evening air. Just a while ago he was out here watching his daughter play and now she's gone. He can hear and see several other Peacekeepers searching for her outside, shouting her name but he has to look for her himself.

"Ceraphina! Ceraphina where are you darling?"

Coriolanus descends the steps leading down to the grounds with haste as his eyes scan the dark landscape. The only source of light is from the greenhouse which they always lock for events like this. But maybe she slipped inside. Coriolanus begins towards the greenhouse when he steps on something.

He looks down and feels as if he might throw up.

It's her bow.

The bow that Soarynn put in her hair. The bow that Ceraphina so proudly showed him before the Gala.

Coriolanus crouches down to pick it up and feels how soft it is. She was out here, they must've taken her through the grounds, whoever they are.

"President Snow, we found something in the greenhouse!"

꧁ ꧂

'You take our children from us every year, now we took yours. Find us where it all began.'

Coriolanus reads those words over and over again.

The Rebels. People from the Districts took her.

Coriolanus crumples up the note the Peacekeepers found in the greenhouse and lets out a frustrated groan. She's truly in danger now, who knows what those District scum will do to her.

They had broken some of the glass panes of the greenhouse, slipped in, and left the note by the fountain for him to find. How long have they been planning this?

"Put the entire Capitol on lockdown," he says, his voice cold and bitter, "no one in, no one out. Stop all the trains, question anyone working at the border. Search the city street by street."

He doesn't look up from the ground but he hears feet shuffling over broken glass and he hears a few Peacekeepers mumbling, "Madam Snow."

He looks over his shoulder to see Soarynn standing in the doorway. Her eyes are bloodshot, and her hands are still shaking as she takes a slow step into the greenhouse. "Where...where is she?" Soarynn asks him. If only he could tell her.

Coriolanus pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head, "I don't know," he admits, "it was the Rebels. They left a note, and...and I found this," he pulls out the bow from his pocket and holds it out to her.

Soarynn gasps at the sight and her lip trembles, "Is she going to die Coriolanus? Are they going to kill our baby girl?"

Coriolanus sets his jaw and his fingers wrap around the bow, nearly crushing it, "No. Not if I have anything to do with it. The city is on lockdown, and there's no way they already made it out. She's here somewhere we just have to know where to look."

Soarynn wipes away a tear and takes in a shaky breath, "What...what did the note say?"

Coriolanus looks back down at the crumpled piece of paper and he's already imagining killing whoever wrote that cryptic piece of shit. "They said to find them where it all began, and that they took her because we take their children."

The Hunger Games are brutal by design, a way to remind the Districts of their failure and to punish those who are seemingly "innocent."

A wave of recognition flashes over Soarynn's face and she steps towards him, "The arena," she whispers, her blue-gray eyes wide with realization, "where it all began. They took her to the old arena where we used to hold the Games, oh Coriolanus she's right under our noses."

It all clicks in his mind a moment later. She's right. They took her to the old arena where the Games were first held. An old arena that's no longer used, filled with corpses and bones no doubt.

Coriolanus gently takes her hand in his, giving it a squeeze, "I'll have every man we can spare surround the arena. I'll go find her Soarynn, I promise. I'll bring her back."

New tears form in Soarynn's eyes and she's swift to blink them away, "So you won't let me go with you?"

He nearly laughs at her question. He'd be a fool to bring his other prized possession with him to the fight. Only a fool would bring his wife to a possible ambush like this one. No, she needs to stay here where she's safe.

If their home is even safe anymore.

"No. I can't lose you too Soarynn. I need you to stay here, stay with the Heavensbees. I'll have my most trusted men watch over you while the rest of the staff is questioned, I'm sure some of them were in on this." It's no secret that the Snows have a wide variety of staff, some originating from the Capitol and a few from the Districts.

Those who are from the Districts are Avoxes but you don't need a tongue to betray your employer. Many will die tonight.

Soarynn nods, staring down at the bow still in his other hand, "Bring her home."

꧁ ꧂

"It's a small group of men. Seven. And she's with them. Unharmed from what I could see. They asked for you specifically, won't say anything to us."

Coriolanus is briefed on the current situation conspiring inside the old arena and he feels himself growing more and more angry as the seconds pass. The old arena's gates have been chained shut for years now but they've been blown wide open by the Peacekeepers who are all positioned outside with trucks and lots and lots of guns.

Anyone who leaves the arena will be shot on sight.

"I'm going inside," Coriolanus tells the Commander who gives him a worried look, "I have to get her back, and I also have to pretend to consider their terms. This isn't just a hostage situation, its a negotiation."

Coriolanus isn't really asking, he's just letting the man know and he seems to recognize that. "Let me get you a vest then, can't have you getting shot." That would not be good.

Coriolanus is prepped with a bulletproof vest, a concealed gun, and a flash-bang grenade. He's dressed like he's going to war, which he would happily do for his daughter.

He watches two medic trucks pull up to the side of the arena, he hopes those won't be needed.

"We'll surround them from above, just keep them talking and once we have a clear shot, we'll take them all down," the Commander assures him as they approach the front entrance of the arena.

When Coriolanus was a little boy, he came to this arena to watch the circus. He always took a different entrance, the entrance for the wealthy. It's fitting that these Rebels took the front entrance meant for poor people.

It's dark in the tunnel but Coriolanus can see a source of light coming from inside the arena. He pushes through the turnstiles and cringes at the loud automated voice.

"Enjoy the show!"

Coriolanus looks back at the army of Peacekeepers watching him guns ready. At least if he's chased, they'll shoot anything that pursues him but that does very little to soothe his nerves.

Coriolanus sucks in a sharp breath as he finally comes into the arena and comes face to face with a group of men and his daughter.

Ceraphina is dressed in her pajamas and is holding one of the men's hands. She seems fine, unharmed like the Commander said. Her eyes light up when she sees him, "Daddy! Daddy, you found me!"

Coriolanus pays the Rebels no mind as he smiles at his daughter who's seemingly unaware of the current situation, and he’d like to keep it that way, "I did sweetheart. I found you."

He’s still walking but one of the Rebels holds up a large gun, pointed right at him, "That's far enough." His District accent clashes with the ones from the Capitol and Coriolanus feels hatred coursing through his veins. "I've come to negotiate," he says calmly.

The men sneer and give each other looks, "We've been trying to negotiate for years, looks like you only care when we have something that belongs to you."

Coriolanus opens his mouth to respond but Ceraphina seems to have an agenda of her own, "Daddy I want Mommy!" Oh, Soarynn. Coriolanus hopes she's alright at home.

The man holding Ceraphina's hand looks down at her and nods, "You'll see your Mommy real soon, as long as your Daddy does what we tell him to do." Ceraphina doesn't seem scared of this man, or any of them for that matter, she simply nods and bounces on her toes, "Okay!"

Coriolanus turns his focus back onto his daughter's kidnappers, "Just name your terms." The ringleader it seems, steps forward with a cocky look on his face, "You're gonna stop the Hunger Games and stop taking our children. In return, we'll let her go and we won't keep showing up in your house. She's not the only one who matters to you is she?"

Now they've brought Soarynn into this, and for that, they'll have to die.

Coriolanus clenches his jaw at the threat so casually thrown at his wife, his darling girl who's worried sick about him and their daughter. "Fine, I’ll agree to your terms, but I want my daughter back first. She has nothing to do with this."

The men break into a fit of laughter as if he just told the funniest joke in the world. "She has everything to do with this! Bet you thought you'd be safe in that Mansion of yours but you aren't. The innocent must be punished."

Coriolanus spots the smallest bit of movement from the stands above them and adrenaline is coursing through his veins. He needs Cerpahina to move away from these men. He can't have her see this, not if he can help it.

“Are we done playing the game now?” Ceraphina asks with a whine, now rocking back and forth on her heels. She’s barefoot which infuriates him even further. They fucking kidnapped his daughter but couldn’t bother to get her some shoes to wear.

She’s given several nasty looks from her captors who clearly hadn’t anticipated her being so fussy but it’s past her bedtime and they’ve dragged her to the most undesirable place in the Capitol. They only have themselves to blame.

“Looks like your Daddy agreed to our terms,” the ringleader says slowly, tilting his head at Coriolanus as if taunting him, “so I guess the game is over.”

The game?

Coriolanus can only imagine what they’re talking about.

Once given a nod, the man holding onto Ceraphina’s hand lets go and she smiles up at him, “Goodbye!” Coriolanus waits with a bated breath as she slowly walks towards him, he knows she doesn’t understand but he wishes she’d walk faster. The sooner he has her in his arms, the better.

The moment Ceraphina is within reach, Coriolanus grabs her off the ground and wraps both arms around her small body, “Oh sweetheart, we were so worried about you.”

He spots more movement from above. It’s time.

Ceraphina returns his embrace and giggles, “Why were you worried Daddy? They said we were playing hide and seek, and you always find me.”

Coriolanus wishes she could always remain this innocent and naive but with attacks like this happening, he fears it may be impossible.

Coriolanus gives her a tight-lipped smile, “Yes, Daddy always finds you my darling. Now cover your ears and close your eyes very tight for me.” Ceraphina furrows her eyebrows and frowns, "Why? Why can't we play some more?"

Coriolanus can feel his patience thinning as the seconds pass but he can't snap at his darling daughter, not when she's the victim in all of this. "We can play when we get home and see Mommy. Now close your eyes and cover your ears for me sweetheart."

That seems to be enough to convince Ceraphina who squeezes her eyes shut as tightly as she can and places her hands over her ears. Coriolanus turns on his heel and he revels in the sound of guns firing and Rebels crying out as the bullets pierce their skin. Coriolanus rubs Ceraphina's back as he walks back through the tunnel, whispering soothing words even though she can't hear them.

The bullets cease and it's so quiet in the arena. It's wonderful.

And once again, Snow lands on top.

꧁ ꧂

The Mansion is empty when they return.

Guests are gone, music has ceased, the party is over.

Coriolanus quietly pads down the great hall towards one of the many sitting rooms they have, Ceraphina fast asleep in his arms.

He spots Quintus Heavensbee, his most trusted advisor standing in the hall, perking up when he spots the father-daughter duo. "Thank goodness," he whispers, clapping Coriolanius on the shoulder once they reach him, "we were so worried that neither of you would return."

Coriolanus lets out a tired sigh and places a loving hand on the back of Ceraphina's head, cradling her, "We took down the Rebel group, although now I wish we had questioned them first. Who knows how many more were aware of the plan."

Quintus shakes his head fervently, "No need to worry about that my friend. We captured four other Rebels who were in on it working in the Mansion." Coriolanus feels a newfound source of anger bubbling inside of him.

Rebels in the President's Mansion. What a fucking joke.

Quintus takes notice of his concealed anger and pats his shoulder lightly, "Let's talk about this tomorrow morning. Right now your wife and daughter need you more than ever." Ceraphina wakes at the mention of her mother and yawns, rubbing her eyes, "I want Mommy."

Both men smile at her sweet request and Quintus nods towards the doors that lead to the sitting room, "She's in there with my wife and Ms. Trinket." Coriolanus can't help but feel relieved to hear that Eudora Trinket, the woman who plans every second of his life, wasn't in on the Rebel scheme.

She’d been there for all the appointments concerning Soarynn’s pregnancy and she’d held Soarynn’s other hand when she gave birth. To lose Eudora to the Rebels would hit their family hard.

Coriolanus doesn’t waste another moment to push open the large doors revealing his wife sitting on the edge of a sofa, her knee bouncing up and down while she nervously awaits more news about the kidnapping of her daughter.

She looks up at them and gasps, her eyes focusing on Ceraphina as she stands up and crosses the room within seconds. She’s grabbing Ceraphina from his arms, cradling her, kissing her face, assessing her for damage all while trying not to cry.

“Oh my sweet darling,” Soarynn whispers, pressing a kiss to her head, “I was so worried about you. Thank goodness you’re safe.” Coriolanus wraps an arm around Soarynn’s trembling frame and rubs soothing circles on her back, “She’s alright darling, she’s safe now.”

Ceraphina simply basks in the attention she’s given from both her parents and rests a small hand on Soarynn’s cheek, “Mommy my pajamas got dirty.” Soarynn presses a small kiss to her hand and hums, “Mommy will give you a nice bath sweetheart, and then you can sleep in Mommy and Daddy’s room tonight.”

Coriolanus already knows how this will go, the never dissipating fear that will forever live in Soarynn now that she knows what it’s like to have her daughter taken from her. She’ll want Ceraphina with her all day every day.

Ceraphina’s eyes widen at the opportunity to sleep in her parent’s bedroom, something she’s never done before, “Really? Can I bring my bear?” Out of the all the stuffed animals she’s been gifted over the years, her stuffed teddy bear is by far her favorite.

Soarynn nods and runs her fingers through Ceraphina’s hair, “Yes darling, you can bring your bear.” That seems to be more than enough for Ceraphina who buries her face in Soarynn’s neck, seemingly exhausted from tonight’s events.

Soarynn lets out a shaky breath and leans into Coriolanus and his hold, “Thank you,” she whispers, her blue-gray eyes meeting his piercing blue ones, “thank you for finding her and bringing her back to me.”

Coriolanus feels himself getting choked up, their sweet baby girl could’ve died tonight and he refuses to imagine the shell of a person Soarynn would become if that happened.

So he simply holds her a little tighter and kisses her temple, “I’ll always fight to keep you two together my darling, always.”

꧁ ꧂

“Daddy look! Bubbles!”

Ceraphina’s voice is the first thing to greet Coriolanus when he walks into his bathroom. He smiles down at Ceraphina who’s sitting in the tub surrounded by bubbles and floating toys. She’s completely oblivious to what went down tonight and he can’t decide if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

He watches Ceraphina play for a moment before watching his wife who’s sitting on her knees right next to the tub, watching Ceraphina as if she might disappear and never come back.

She almost did, he reminds himself.

He’s worried for Soarynn. Worried about how this might have affected her.

Despite Quintus and his protests, Coriolanus went over the events that conspired tonight and was able to see the other Rebels who were in on the plan. They had of course been detained but one was a Peacekeeper, two were maids and one was a gardener. He’d have them all executed before the week was over. And to ensure that they hadn’t planted any seeds of a revolution in the rest of his household staff, he’d execute them too.

Better safe than sorry.

He’d tasked a few of the remaining maids to clean up Ceraphina’s bedroom, wipe the blood off the floor. He wondered if her nanny had been in on it. Would Soarynn ever trust anyone else with the care of their daughter?

Probably not.

“Let’s get you dried off darling,” Soarynn says and Coriolanus snaps back into the present and makes his way into the closet to change out of his clothes. Hours ago he was getting dressed for the Gala so unaware of what would happen.

He dresses himself in some pajama pants before he comes back into the bathroom to wash his face and comb through his curls. He hears a meow and looks down to find Petunia watching him, her tail swishing back and forth in the air.

“Thank you,” he quietly says to the cat, “we would’ve never known if you hadn’t come downstairs to warn us.”

Petunia only blinks but it says enough to him.

He can hear Ceraphina giggling from the bedroom, not at all tired now that she’s allowed to sleep in her parent’s room. A moment later he hears her little footsteps approaching him, “Daddy! Daddy can you read me a bedtime story?”

Coriolanus grabs a towel and dries off his face, “Of course I can darling. Why don’t you get into bed and I’ll meet you there in a minute?”

An excited gasp is all he hears before she’s running back into the bedroom and Coriolanus takes a long good look in the mirror.

Will people always try to hurt his family? Will they always target the two good things in his life? Those men mentioned Soarynn, mentioned hurting her to him. Should he send the girls away? Hide them somewhere that no one knows about?

It would break Soarynn’s heart but it’s better than finding her with a bullet in her head.

He’ll talk to her more about his ideas tomorrow. They’re all exhausted from today.

When Coriolanus comes into the bedroom, Soarynn and Ceraphina are already in bed. Soarynn hasn’t changed out of her clothes from tonight but she probably doesn’t want to leave Ceraphina, even for a quick shower. She gives him a tired smile when she notices him, “She’s very excited for your bedtime story.”

Coriolanus grins and carefully slips into bed, his hand smoothing down Ceraphina’s hair that Soarynn braided down her back. She’s squished between her two parents and looks happier than ever.

“What game did you play tonight darling?” He asks her, his curiosity getting the best of him. Soarynn gives him a curious look but she wasn’t there in that arena with those men.

Ceraphina yawns, “We played hide-and-seek and they said we had to wait for you to come and find me.” Soarynn seems to have put the pieces together and she absentmindedly rubs her hand up and down Ceraphina’s back, “Were they nice to you? Did they yell or say mean things to you?”

Did they touch you?

That’s what Soarynn really wants to ask but Coriolanus can already see her holding back tears.

Ceraphina shakes her head and plays with the silk pillow case, “No. No, they didn’t yell Mommy. They said we were playing a game. Then I got scared so one of them let me hold his hand. Can I hear the story now Daddy?”

Coriolanus nods, his mind a thousand miles away from telling a bedtime story but he has to get through this first. “Of course sweetheart. Once upon a time…”

꧁ ꧂

Neither Coriolanus nor Soarynn can take their eyes off of their sleeping daughter. She’s been asleep for over an hour and yet they’re just…watching her.

“I remember when she was so little,” Soarynn whispers, her fingertips ghosting Ceraphina’s cheek, “when she was just a baby I would watch her sleep for hours. I was so terrified she’d stop breathing in her sleep. This was when you were coming home at all hours of the night, so it was really just me and her.”

Soarynn swallows down a sob, “And I would just watch her sleep. And think and pray to whoever was listening, ‘Please don’t take her. Please don’t take my daughter away from me.’ Then tonight I felt like it was some sick joke, like whoever was listening hated me and hated my daughter.”

Tears fall down Soarynn’s cheeks and Coriolanus reaches out for her, careful not to crush their sleeping daughter. “Shhh, shhh it’s alright Soarynn. She’s safe, she’s safe and no one will ever touch her again. Anyone who wanted to hurt her is dead now and they wanted to hurt her because they hated me. No one could ever hate you sweet girl.”

Soarynn shakes her head and wipes her tears, staring up at the ceiling for a moment, “They could’ve killed her Coriolanus. Or touched her or made her take something. I…I kept hoping that instead of hurting our little girl and torturing her, they’d just kill her instead. At least then she wouldn’t have to suffer.”

This attack has shaken the Snows.

They’ll be expected to give a statement to give a warning to those who try and hurt them.

Coriolanus quietly slips out of bed and rounds the other side so that he can properly hold his wife, “She’s alive Soarynn. She’s alive and she’s asleep in our bed. It’s been such a long night darling and we need to get you dressed in something else. Why don’t we go find you something else to wear?”

Soarynn shakes her head, pulling back when he tried to scoop her into his arms, “I won’t leave her Coriolanus. I’m never leaving her again.”

He sighs. His girl has always been stubborn but now she’s cemented in her mind. Surrounded by fear. “Okay,” he whispers, placing a gentle hand on her cheek, “okay then why don’t I go find you something to wear? I’ll be right back darling.”

That seems to sound better to Soarynn who nods and curls back up with Ceraphina, holding her tightly.

Coriolanus feels his hands curling into fists the second he’s out of her sight. Those men may have not touched Soarynn physically, but they did emotionally. They’ve terrified his wife and he’s going to make everyone in the Districts pay for it.

He’ll do anything to protect the ones he loves.

To protect his legacy.

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

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dementedspeedster · 7 months ago

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I realized I've never compiled all of my Twin Verse images into one place, so I'm doing that now. (The last one is a new addition.)

Twin Verse Summary:

Twin Verse: A universe in which Thad accepted Max’s offer to live with him, Helen, and Bart and learns to become a hero, though not without difficulties. Thad and Bart share the role of Kid Flash / Flash in this universe.

General History:

The history/events within this verse follow the events of Impulse and basically Bart’s life. Thad lives with Max and Bart in Manchester, Alabama during the events of Impulse. He begins to learn about becoming a hero under Max’s tutelage and very slowly develops a bond and rivalry with Bart. They’re not immediately brothers, but just learning how to live with each other and both of them want to make Max proud the best way they can though they still but heads with each other. When Max’s body is taken over by the Rival he moves in with Jay and Joan along with Bart. Max’s disappearance is what solidifies a bond between them. They’re the ones who are concerned and care about Max. Who refuse to let him be forgotten and for some time try to find him. Max is important to both of them and through their mutual love of Max as a parental-like figure they bond and stick together as each other’s most trusted person in their life because they know what the other is going through. When they grow older they both take up the role of Flash. (Which is quite helpful for their personal lives, but also keeping their identity hidden as they can use the other to keep the idea that the Flash and their civilian identity are separate. Ex: They’ve both been seen with the Flash on separate occasions, therefore neither of them could be the Flash!)

Additional Notes:

'Two Flashes?' I hear you ask? Yes, two Flashes working at the same time. Now as for why (other than the fact I think it's a fun idea)?

1. Because as I mentioned it's incredibly helpful in keeping up the illusion that neither Bart nor Thad is the Flash when it is initial assumed that there's only one Flash.

2. I like the idea of how it messes with villains outside of Keystone or Central City. I think the Rogues and local villains would definitely know/figure

3. I didn't want them to fight over the mantle. They both deserve the mantle in a scenario where they wanted to take on the mantle of Flash and give it their own spin rather than it being a contentious point between them and their growth.

4. It could keep up an even more solid illusion of the Flash can be everywhere at once.

I also think the local public would either know that there are two of them or have theories. When the Flash is out though you just don't know who you're getting. It makes for the potential for them to have different fighting styles, strategies, and how they deal with villains. But also the similarities between them. They might handle press different. Other heroes differently. Have different relations with other heroes and villains, etc.

Ex: Neither Bart nor Thad pulls their punches, but Thad is definitely softer on younger villains and tries to steer them toward reform/just steer them in a direction that doesn't lead them to a life he had in his youth.

#V: Twin Verse #Thad Thawne #Thaddeus Thawne #Inertia #Bart Allen #Barry Allen #Kid Flash #Flashfam #Flash family #my edits #my edit #also just made the last one so that one s new #DC let me write twin flashes this an idea I can get behind.#look i really liked the headcanon i put n my notes so i stuck it in here too.#long post #Reblogs are allowed!

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inthehouseoffinwe · 2 months ago

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HCs about Aragorn and Arwen’s kids!

Eldarion is tired oldest brother to five or six younger sisters and gives the blandest look when people say he’s ‘lucky it’s not boys.’ I mean. Have you met their parents? The girls are total terrors when they want to be.

Identical twin daughters. Need I say more?

One of their daughters has silver hair courtesy of Celebrian, and the other a beautiful gold from Gilraen. Their hair *gleams* in lamplight to something definitely not human.

Eldarion is Responsible Older Brother TM but leave him with Elboron and Elfwine and all hell breaks loose. Best friend chaos trio since they were born.

One of the girls takes a liking to Rohan and spends several years there with Éomer and Lothíriel

Elrond’s foresight allowed him to see all of Estel and Arwen’s children and he wrote several letters to each of them before he left so they know their grandfather loves them.

All of them learn healing fighting and battle strategy. Plants are easier for tiny kids to handle than wooden swords. And it’s important to emphasise that yes their job is to keep the kingdoms safe, but more importantly to help heal their people.

Éowyn is the only one who can wrangle all of them other than their parents. Faramir tries but collapses under ‘pleeeaaaase Uncle Faramir!’ *insert puppy dog eyes*

All the parents look after all the kids. Éomer, Lothíriel, Éowyn, Faramir, Aragorn, Arwen. They’ll close with all the children and collectively parent them

Legolas is a common visitor. Gimli comes as much as he can. They’re both enablers for chaos and subsequently favourites.

Elladan and Elrohir can’t visit as often as they like, now managing Rivendell’s final affairs. But the kids do visit Imladris a couple of times and whilst it’s a little emptier than in Aragorn’s youth, it still holds the warmth of the Last Homely House. Eldarion is particularly taken with it.

Glorfindel and Erestor are vindicated Elrond’s children have to deal with their own chaotic kids. They are also enablers. Glorfindel trains them while they’re there and follows them back to Gondor for some time until he’s happy with their progress. He comes again when they’re older and heading out.

Eldarion’s a history nerd. I take no argument.

Yes his sisters make fun of him for it. But Eru help anyone else who dared do the same

Elboron and Elfwine, and their siblings are the exceptions

Agree? Disagree? Got any of your own? Add them on! I’ll probably make a pt2 at some point.

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jshdlvelme · 3 months ago

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Can’t stop thinking about an AU where Timmy’s not the buff tall man we see in Channel Chasers and is instead an averagely built single dad to a pair of twins. If Timmy ever shows up in ANW I want him to be a loser who can’t live without his morning coffee and works in law. Probably as a civil litigation lawyer. I want him to live in the same apartment as Hazle, Cosmo and Wanda. And I want his kids to be energetic toddlers who give off Dipper and Mable when they’re younger vibes.

I want Timmy to have no contact with his bio parents and to be on bad terms with Tootie’s family. So in my AU Tootie died in a car accident two years before the series starts, and after moving around a lot with the twins and working at different law firms, Timmy ended up moving to Dimmidelphia. In the same apartment complex Hazle lives in. His kids are a handful and he’s almost always tired from work and taking care of them. And because Tootie, who had a higher paying job than him, died, he doesn’t have as much time to spend with the twins as he wants to. He has to hire a babysitter to watch them most days of the week. He takes them out whenever he has time off and on weekends.

At first, he tries to avoid Cosmo and Wanda. They seem familiar and he feels sad whenever he catches sight of them. But then one day, his babysitter can’t make it and he has nobody else who can watch his kids, so he goes to them. He doesn’t know why, but he has a feeling that they’re good with kids. So Timmy knocks on their door and asks if they can babysit. He’s so clearly tired and stressed and it pains Cosmo and Wanda to see him like that. They agree with zero hesitation, and the kids love them. So much so, that they beg Timmy to let them babysit again. He’s reluctant to agree, but Cosmo and Wanda say they also want to babysit again, and he feels compelled to say yes.

The twins, Charlie and Lily (Short for Charles and Lilith), are both four years old and very energized. They spend a lot of their time running around and causing trouble for their dad. Charlie likes dinosaurs, space, and cars. He and Lily are identical twins and both have black hair and blue eyes and a white accessory. Charlie wears a dark red shirt and denim overalls with a white hat. Lily wears a blue plaid dress and has a white bow in her hair. She also wears glasses. She likes bugs and animals. Timmy wears the same outfit he had at the end of Channel Chasers. They have a pitbull named Rocky and occasionally foster rescue animals. Charlie is deaf and wears hearing aids.

Thats literally all I could think of. Sorry if some of it doesn’t make sense, I’m just an autistic college student. What do I know?

#timmy turner #fairly oddparents #fop a new wish #cosmo and wanda

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dira333 · 25 days ago

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Fools - Miya Atsumu x Reader

Those hardest to love need it most... Inspired by the song "Fools" by Lauren Aquilina - 8,6k

Miya Atsumu always thought that song described him. He knows he's not the easiest to love. But what if he finds his match in someone who's convinced that sometimes, love is not enough?

Yes I am on Hiatus. This was born in one afternoon. Emi is @emmyrosee of course

Those hardest to love need it most…

“Can you pick Kita-san up?” Samu asks during their daily phone call, just short after telling him to take the shrimps off the heat.

“Sure, sure,” Atsumu answers, phone tucked between his head and his shoulders, trying to save the slightly burned shrimps - he should have taken them off the heat.

“Train should be in at 12 o’clock sharp, don’t be late.”

“I’m never late,” Atsumu replies. “What did you say I have to do with the veggies?”

Samu sighs on the other end. “Have you not cut them yet?”

Atsumu eyes the vegetables on the cutting board. He’d started, but quickly lost focus over the retelling of today’s practice.

“They’re almost done,” he lies, but Samu has always been the twin with the better nose, sniffing out the truth every time.

“Liar.”

It’s seven minutes after twelve as he parks behind the train station, trying to find Kita’s telltale hair in the midst of all the people.

Why he would take the train here just to endure the road trip down to the beach with them is something Atsumu doesn’t understand but he’s long given up trying to understand Kita’s mind.

“Here!” He leans out of his open car window, waving his arm. “Kita-san! I’m here!”

But it’s not Kita who turns around, though the hair color is strangely similar.

The woman wears it longer, though, the black tips like feathers. She walks over, even when he tries to wave her off.

“Sorry, sorry, I thought you were someone else.

“Miya-san?” She asks and he’s halfway through remembering where he stores his headshots for autographs when she offers him her hand through the open window. “I’m Kita-san. Thank you for picking me up.”

“Bullshit!”

You are, as it turns out, just as opposed to swearwords as your cousin.

Atsumu spends half a minute apologizing for the use of it and half a minute agonizing over the fact that you’re cute.

Would Kita-san hate him if he hit you up? Probably.

Would it be worth it?

He tries checking you out from the corner of his eye, but you too have the Kita family’s very own talent of knowing everything, it seems.

“Eyes on the street, Miya-san.”

“I was just checking the cars behind me.”

“Sure you were.”

“And you’re, uh-” He hesitates. “Here for work?”

“No.”

“Fun?”

“I’m not sure if I can call it that.”

And you’re just as “easy” to talk to as your male counterpart.

“What would you call it then?”

“Therapy.”

He swallows wrong and almost swerves into the other lane as he tries not to choke on his spit. You stay miraculously calm.

“Shinsuke informed me that it it absolutely necessary to partake in the ritual of letting nature consume your complete focus if I wanted to ground myself in my new identity.”

“What?”

You sigh. “I’m joining you on your trip.”

Atsumu’s hands cramp around the steering wheel. “Fantastic.”

The train station isn’t far away from his apartment where Samu’s already waiting, his truck loaded with snacks and other stuff they could be wanting.

Atsumu considers it a betrayal of the worst kind when Samu isn’t the least bit shocked by your obvious femininity.

“You didn’t tell me she was going to be a she!” He hisses at his brother as you move on to greeting Ginjima who lifts your little suitcase into the back of Samu’s truck with ease.

“You didn’t ask,” Samu shoots back, grinning like the fool he is. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“A problem?!” He pauses, trying to figure out a good comeback. He doesn’t have any.

Samu eyes him in a way he doesn’t like. His nose wrinkles and Atsumu fears for the worst.

“You think she’s cute?”

“No, I don’t!” He snaps back, blood rushing to his cheeks. “You think she’s cute!”

“I have a girlfriend,” Samu reminds him - like Atsumu doesn’t already know that, he’s rubbing it under his nose every chance he gets.

“Whatever!” Atsumu barks, stalking back to his car to get his own stuff.

It’s by divine intervention - or, more likely, Samu’s doing - that you take the middle seat.

It’s the worst seat by far and he feels kinda sorry for you, getting squished between him and Ginjima and in the worst summer heat too.

“Here,” he offers you a bottle of water from the cooler. “Samu’s AC doesn’t work all the time.”

“It works just fine,” Samu grumbles from the front, “I just don’t try to recreate Winter in my car, that’s all.”

“I will be fine, Miya-san,” you tell him but there’s a warmth to your eyes now that has him feeling weirdly shy, has him tuck his head in between his shoulders and stare out of the window until they’re on the highway.

Emi, Samu’s girlfriend, has the AUX-Cable, so they spend the first part of their drive listening to bubble gum pop. Atsumu would deny it with every fiber of his being that he likes this kind of music, but more than once he catches his foot tapping the rhythm, his knee knocking into yours with every movement.

Ginjima, the guy with the world's tiniest bladder, dictates every pit stop.

It’s not that bad though, getting out of the car every hour or so, to stretch your legs and crack your back after sitting stiff for so long.

Samu usually spends those five minutes with Emi, laughing over a joke she’s made or showing her a new recipe he’s found so Atsumu finds himself coming back to you, again and again, like one of those annoying moth-things that always fly into the light.

“Have you been at the beach before?” He asks, trying to ignore the scent of your perfume as the wind blows through your hair.

“Not yet, no,” you curl your nose and close your eyes as the sun blinds you and he turns his head to look away because you’re cute and you’re Kita’s cousin and this is not supposed to be happening, period.

“But you know how to swim, right?”

You laugh, the sound surprisingly soft. “Yes, Miya-san. I know how to swim.”

“You can call me Atsumu, you know?” He asks after a while. “It’s going to get confusing otherwise. I mean the guys call us Samu and Tsumu because that’s our nicknames but Kita-san always called us by our proper first names so I figured you’d be like that too.”

“Thank you,” you hesitate for a second, holding your breath like you don’t know how to deal with that offer. He only knows you’re holding your breath because he can’t smell your chewing gum, a scent he’s started focusing on when your perfume got too distracting.

“You can call me by my first name too.”

And maybe, just maybe, Atsumu feels like going back to Samu, boasting about the fact that he’s got to call you by your first name first. But that would be weird and he’s not weird. He’s totally chill about it, really.

They reach the Beach House just shortly after six o’clock, with Kita-san waiting out front - the male one, not you.

“Shinsuke!” You reach him first and he hugs you tight, arms crossed over your back as if you’re a bird just waiting to fly away if he lets go too soon.

It feels weird watching them, like he’s seeing too much of something he’s not supposed to see, but he can’t just look away like that either.

But then Ginjima stumbles into him, with too many bags in his arms, and his focus shifts. When he turns back, you’ve separated, and now both of you are on your way to the car to help unload.

Atsumu feels weirdly awkward as if Kita’s going to sniff him out just like Samu did, pulling him behind the house to lecture him on the proper way to treat his cousin or something like this - not like he did anything wrong, really!

But Kita just smiles and does that half-hug thing he does and then he’s gone, your suitcase in one hand and the cooler in the other as if they both weigh nothing.

Atsumu breathes out in relief. If Kita doesn’t suspect something weird, he’s going to be safe, he thinks. At least until Suna appears in the doorway, sly fox grin on his lips and his phone raised just high enough to let Atsumu know he captured everything.

Yeah, he’s definitely a goner.

“So you and Kita-san, huh?” Suna asks as soon as the door of their bedroom closes behind him.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Atsumu tells him pointedly as he shoves his suitcase under his bed and his volleyball stuff into his designated spot in the closet.

“Sure, sure.” Suna singsongs behind him before pausing - and Suna pausing is never a good sign. “But you know Kita wants her to be with Aran?”

“What?” Atsumu turns, much too fast to be casual, he knows. “Did he say that? Out loud?”

“Well they’re going to be sharing a room, so-”

“They’re sharing a room?” Oh and now he’s getting loud too. God, calm down Atsumu, calm down.

Suna grins, eyes twinkling dangerously. “What did you think, genius? We only have three rooms. Samu and Emi are taking one, you and me the other and Kita would never make Aran or his dear Cousin sleep on the Couch in the living room.”

“You could sleep on the Couch,” Atsumu snaps.

Suna gleams. “And let his dear Cousin share a room with you? This is Kita we’re talking about. Aran’s the only guy he’d trust her with- where are you going?”

Atsumu is halfway down the stairs before Suna follows him. He finds Kita in the kitchen.

“I’m sleeping on the Couch,” he breathes out, watching as Kita’s eyebrows perform an absurd dance over his eyes. You’ve got the same eye color, he noticed, but somehow it looks better on you.

“Why would you do that?” Kita asks, Suna repeating the question like a parrot - just a little more annoying.

“Because surely Kita-san, err, your cousin, I mean, would want to share a room with you. But you’re not going to kick Aran out of his room when there’s only the Couch left so I’m taking the Couch. Aran can take my bed.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I’m the youngest?”

“I’m younger than you,” Suna reminds him and Atsumu swallows back the reply that wants to trip off his tongue.

“Well,” he coughs out instead, “Maybe if I get a bad back from sleeping on the Couch EJP Raijin will finally be able to beat MSBY Black Jackals.”

“Oh, you’re so on,” Suna snarls before turning to Kita. “Let him suffer, Kita-san. It will be good for his morale.”

“If you insist,” Kita still hesitates before nodding. “If you insist, we’ll do as you offered. You can put your stuff in the cupboard back here.”

The Couch is awful to sleep on. That, coupled with the fact that he can hear everything going on and he doesn’t want to know which bed is creaking right now and if it’s Samu’s he definitely doesn’t want to know, is making it very hard to sleep.

The Beach House belongs to Kita’s family. Or was it a friend of the family? They’ve been coming here since Kita’s made captain, only back then they had adult supervision and Samu had still been as painfully single as everyone else.

The beds aren’t the most comfortable, at least one faucet is always leaking and the water in the shower takes ages to turn hot but it’s cheap and it has enough beds for their little group and the ocean makes everything worthwhile anyway.

Dinner, as usual, had been Samu’s task, with Emi serving them just like back in Osaka. Suna had opened a bottle of wine and you’d drunken a glass, the drink staining your lips blue and your cheeks pink.

And Atsumu knows it must have been obvious, the way he peeled off the label from his beer bottle instead of telling an animated story of his last game or the fact that he could not stand looking in your direction more than two seconds before turning away again, yet not able to focus on anything but the sound of your voice and-

“Can’t sleep?”

He’s sitting upright in seconds, hand on his chest, his heart racing.

“I didn’t want to scare you,” your hair glows white in the moonlight as you climb down the rest of the stairs, “but I can’t sleep and I wanted to get a glass of water.”

“‘m fine,” he lies. “I was… thinking.”

You don’t ask about his thoughts, slip through the dark living room like a ghost instead.

“Can you bring me a glass too?” He asks, not because he’s thirsty but because he’s not had a moment with you alone ever since they arrived at Samu’s place and-

“Here,” you appear out of nowhere, pressing the glass into his hands. This close he can tell that you’re wearing proper silk pajamas, every button closed right up to your chin. It’s cute and he hates it, eyes shifting to his toes in an effort to distract himself.

“Can I ask you a question, Atsumu?” You ask, still standing next the Couch.

“Sure.”

“Are you attracted to me?”

Water sprays all over his thin blanket as he chokes on the sip he’d been taking. You thump his back until he can breathe again.

“Wh-Why I mean, how do you- what?”

“Shinsuke pointed out that it seemed that way,” you point out now, taking a seat next to his legs. “I wanted to check if he was right.”

“What if I am?” He asks, daring to in the darkness.

You sigh. “I would prefer if you weren’t.”

He swallows. “Right. Well, you’re lucky, I guess. Because I’m not. Attracted to you, I mean.”

“I’d be honored,” you talk on, either ignoring his rambling or not understanding it. “Because you’re a good-looking guy and you’re very nice too. But I’ve just ended an intense work relationship and I don’t want to tie myself down again until I know who I am.”

“Totally understandable.”

“Thank you.” You get up again. “Shall I take your glass back to the kitchen?”

“Uh, yes, sure.” He hands it back to you, listens as you sneak back up the stairs, stopping just short of the corner. “Sleep well, Atsumu.”

“You too,” he whispers back, his heart still very much in overdrive.

You think he’s good-looking.

- - -

There is a special kind of hell out there and it’s trying to teach you Beach Volleyball.

Emi has long given up trying to be good at it, choosing to goof of the second she’s unsupervised, so she’s no help at all, running after Samu with a water gun.

But you stick close to him, trying to copy what he’s doing, wearing an awfully small amount of clothes.

Compared to Emi you’re fully dressed but Emi’s his brother's girlfriend and about as interesting as a cockroach wearing makeup.

But the combination of Kita’s oversized grey swimshorts coupled with a bikini top with little cherries, a light hoodie he suspects must have cost a couple thousand Yen and a sunhat adorned with a smiling shark - no doubt from the children’s section - is a little too much for him to handle.

Aran’s the one who mentions it first, probably because he knows he won’t get eaten by Kita for doing it.

“I’ve never been to the beach,” you mention yet again. “This was a last-minute decision. I borrowed what I could.”

“Isn’t there a market?” Atsumu remembers from a trip two years ago. “In the next village over? Akagi ripped his swim shorts so we went and bought new ones.”

Suna lifts his phone. “Tsumu’s right. It’s open every day from ten to six. We can go right away if you want.”

You seem unsure. “We don’t have to go just because of me.”

“I’m sure Samu would like a chance to go shopping,” Atsumu adds as if it’s an afterthought. He turns to Suna. “It’s right by the harbor, right?”

“Samu, you wanna get fish?!” Suna yells and they watch in unison as Samu stops dead right by the water, Emi tumbling into him, the two of them crashing into the waves.

Half an hour later they’re all filed into the truck again, Suna taking Ginjima’s seat and Aran following them in his car with the rest of them.

“Shouldn’t we have changed?” You ask, halfway to the market and Atsumu can’t help but think that yes, they should have, most of all you, but it’s a little too late for that now.

They lose Samu two steps into the market and where Samu is, Emi is always close behind.

Atsumu’s doing a marvelous job at keeping you and Kita in his line of sight but he’s not doing the best job at hiding that.

“Dude, chill,” Ginjima tells him, pointing at a seashell necklace. “You’re way too obvious.”

“‘m not,” he declares, though doing a poor job. “And that would look awful on you.”

“Not on me, on you,” Ginjima pouts but he leaves it hanging, moving on.

It doesn’t take long for you to get what you need. A swimsuit here, a nice summer hat there, don’t forget the sunscreen.

Atsumu’s just shy of asking if he should carry it for you when you stop to watch a woman who’s drawing portraits on the side of the market.

“Do you want to get a portrait?” Aran asks, his voice soft enough that Atsumu suspects that he’s going to offer to pay for it.

You hesitate and it’s just a heartbeat long, but he notices it, the way your fingers twitch as you watch the charcoal move over paper.

“I just like watching it,” you answer, your voice bland enough to hide something underneath.

“Well,” he almost swallows his tongue as he pops up behind you, “that’s good. Would you do me a favor? I wanted a portrait for quite a while and I don’t want her to mess up my good looks. You could keep watch to make sure she’s getting my good side.”

“Like you have one,” Suna snarks from behind him and he can see Ginjima from the corner of his eye, waving his arms in a poor attempt to stop him from doing whatever he’s doing.

But you smile with your eyes and not your lips, nodding slightly. “I can do that if it’s important to you, Miya-san.”

And, he’s a little taken aback by the fact that you’re addressing him by his last name again until he feels Kita-san appear behind him like a shadow, offering to stay behind instead.

“No, it’s fine,” you disagree. “I could use a little break. You could take my stuff with you if you want to help, Shinsuke.”

“Fine,” Kita finally relents. “But call me if you need any help, okay? And Atsumu, please don’t haggle over the price.”

“I’m not that cheap,” he answers, embarrassed to be reminded of past mistakes.

It’s awkward at first, posing while you watch.

But you’re not really watching him, he finds soon enough, your eyes glued to the paper instead, only flickering up to his face whenever the artist does the same.

“Have you been doing this for a long time?” He asks, easily bored.

“No,” the woman shakes her head. “Drawing, yes. But I only started doing portraits after I retired.”

“Oh, what did you do for work?”

“I was a dancer,” she tells him with a cheeky smile. “But not the kind you think. I did quite a few shows and taught children to do the same. But my legs aren’t as good anymore so I pass my time like this.”

“Would I know you?” He asks, pursing his lips until she tells him to stop. “What’s your name?”

“Tabata Kame. But I don’t think you know me. It’s been quite some time. I do know you, though. My grandson is very interested in volleyball.”

Atsumu flushes pink.

“He must be very interested indeed. Osaka is not that close.”

“Close enough if you want it to be,” Tabata-san smiles before looking up at you. “And how long have you been painting?”

You jerk back, surprised by the question.

“I don’t-” you hesitate, your eyes flickering over to him as if checking. “A few… I haven’t been drawing for a few years now,” you admit. “I did it a lot when I was a teenager.”

“Ah,” Tabata-san nods. “Never enough time, right?”

“Right. And I’m… not as talented as you are.”

“Nonsense,” she clicks her tongue. “You just need exercise. It’s like dancing. If you want to do it, that’s the first step. Everything else is just practice.”

“I think a quadriplegic would disagree,” Atsumu jokes, delighted when you snort.

“I make you a deal,” Tatabe-san announces after another while of quiet drawing. “You let me draw you and I’ll gift you some paper and some charcoal to practice, what do you say?”

“I can’t take that,” you decline, hands folded firmly in front of your chest.

“It’s a gift,” Tatabe-san disagrees. “From one artist to the other.”

“I’m a lawyer, not an artist.”

“I thought you stopped?” Atsumu asks, biting his tongue when your eyes flicker back to him, surprise evident on his face.

You haven’t told him that, he knows. You’d been deep in conversation with Aran and Emi while he’d pretended to listen to Ginjima and Samu but he can’t back down now, not after he’s already spilled the beans.

“I heard you say it, last night. That you quit.”

“I didn’t quit,” you disagree. “I took a sabbatical. That’s different.”

“So you’re going to go back after that year?”

You hesitate, your body locking up seemingly just at the thought of it.

Tatabe-san sighs. “You young ones should listen to us sometime. It is not good for the mind to fear what it’s doing.”

“I don’t fear what I’m doing.”

“You do,” Atsumu disagrees. “I mean if I can see it, then-”

“Oh, don’t sell yourself short, boy.” Tatabe-san clicks her tongue at him. “You’ve got quite an eye. Now stop talking or I’ll get your nose wrong.”

“Sorry.”

Forced to keep quiet he can’t do more than plead with his eyes as you stare him down, arms crossed in front of you.

Eventually, Tatabe-san puts down her charcoal and wipes her hands.

“Now,” she looks up at you. “Will you let me draw you?”

You hesitate, looking over the market.

“We shouldn’t take that long,” you say but Atsumu is already up, pulling you toward the chair. “Come on,” he urges you. “When do you ever get a chance like this?”

“At every other market,” you disagree, followed by an apology toward Tatabe-san.

“Please?” He asks. “For me?”

“For you?” Your brows furrow. “Why for you?”

But you let your defense slip and now you’re seated on the chair, staring up at him in surprise as he takes a step back, taking your former position next to Tatabe-san.

Unlike you, he doesn’t bother checking Tatabe-san’s work. He’s more than content to just look at you.

At first, you look awkward, pull your hoodie closer around you. But then he points out the seagulls just a stone’s throw away and you look, soon captivated by their endless endeavors, trying and succeeding in stealing the food of unassuming tourists.

“Done,” Tatabe-san announces much too soon, spraying both portraits with Hairspray and rolling them up. “Here,” she hands it to you before holding her hand out for money. “Six thousand Yen, please.”

“Don’t we get a Friends Discount?” He jokes, pulling out his wallet.

“Atsumu,” you tell him off and he sticks his tongue out at you before paying.

Tatabe-san smiles and pulls out a canvas tote bag, filling it with paper and charcoal.

“I can’t-” you try to declare again just as a familiar voice reaches their ears.

“Do you need more time?” Kita’s at the corner and you shake your head no immediately, turning away from Tatabe-san and him, pressing the drawings into his hands like they’re nothing but a nuisance.

“No, no, we’re on our way. Sorry, it took us so long.”

He doesn’t dare open the drawings, not even when Suna needles him over dinner.

“Didn’t turn out that well, huh?” Suna asks with a grin and he searches your eyes over the table, disappointed when you keep looking away.

“I wouldn’t know,” he admits. “Kita-san checked the progress.”

“It was okay,” you say, your lukewarm answer enough to change the topic.

He hides the drawings on the bottom of his suitcase, rolled up in his favorite jersey with the paper and charcoal he got from Tatabe-san.

Maybe he’ll give it to you. Maybe he’ll just keep it to himself. He’s not sure yet.

The days pass by in a blur.

It’s hot and windy and the water is just the right temperature to cool off and somehow you’re never there where he is or there are too many people to have a conversation around.

Atsumu can take rejection. He doesn’t like it, but he can live with it.

But here’s the thing, he wants to say, wants to sit down with Samu and chew it all up and spit it out until it makes sense. You didn’t seem uninterested.

Hesitant, yeah, but not averse to his advances.

You called him good-looking. Doesn’t that count as something?

Another monday rolls around and brings an almost full moon with it, its light keeping him up.

He slips out of bed - Couch - around midnight, sneaking out onto the patio only to find you there.

“Holy sh-” He swallows the swearword at the last second and presses a hand onto his racing heart. “How did you get past me?”

“You snore,” you point out. You should check your sinuses.”

“I don’t snore.”

“Yeah, you do.” You push a thermos toward him. “Tea?”

“Why are you up?”

“I’m always up at this hour.”

“Nonsense, this is-” He hesitates. “Have you been sneaking past me every night?”

You shrug, staring out at the water. “You’re a heavy sleeper.”

He sighs, slipping onto the chair next to you. “You don’t seem tired during the day.”

“I’m not,” you agree. “I’m too wired to be tired.”

“Why?”

“Why?” You ask back, hesitating. “There are too many questions. What should I do with my freetime? Is that the right thing? Am I doing it right? Shouldn’t I be doing something else instead? Is someone watching? What are they thinking of me? Am I distracting them? Should I move away?”

“Do you have anxiety or something like that?”

“Something like that,” you sigh, taking a sip from your cup. “I quit before I got the full Burnout package.”

“How far did you get?”

“In my burnout?”

“No, in your job.”

That seems to surprise you.

“I made partner,” you tell him, pulling at a thread in your pajama top. “Youngest partner in the firm, actually. And I just… had it all. And I still wasn’t happy. The opposite, actually.”

“Did you like being a lawyer? What kind of law did you… do? Do you say it like that?”

“Intellectual Property Law. And I…” You pause. “I liked being right, I think. It’s like getting a good grade, you know?”

“Hmm,” he hums. “When we got a good grade, or you know, good enough, mom would let us pick a little something from the store. Samu always got snacks so I got the toys. And then we would share.”

“Your mom sounds nice.”

“She is. How’s yours?”

“She’s not very happy about my sabbatical,” you answer his question literally. “But I achieved everything she wanted so I argued that she couldn’t deny me something for myself.”

“Is she Kita’s aunt, or?”

“Yes,” you nod. “Our mothers are sisters. Both felt the call of the city. Sometimes I wonder if I should join Kita. I don’t think environmental law would be that hard to learn.”

“Or you could start drawing.”

“I don’t think my mother would like it very much to have me draw portraits on a market.”

He smiles. “And here I thought this was about what you wanted and what you liked?”

You slump. “I keep forgetting that.”

“I got the stuff, you know,” he reminds you. “From Tatabe-san. You can just draw. Without making something from it. Just like… Samu still plays Volleyball. Because he likes it. Because it’s good for him. Not because he needs to make money with it.”

“Why are you playing Volleyball?” You ask, your eyes a little too deep in the darkness.

“Because I don’t know how to do anything else,” he admits. It’s easier to be honest in the night, it seems.

“I’m sure that’s a lie,” you ensure him.

“No, it’s not.” He twirls the thermos in his hands. “It’s always been like that. Samu’s the one who made friends, the one who got better grades, the one who was better at Volleyball. I just… I think I dug my teeth into the last one and decided to put all my money on that card.”

“And what do you do when it no longer makes you happy? When it breaks your body to play, when you can no longer win?”

He stops the thermos and looks into your eyes. “I will worry about that when it happens. Until then, I keep my teeth where they are.”

The sand is cool under his feet but it was his idea to look for shells - at night, in the moonlight - so he can’t just turn around because he’s a little cold.

“Are you cold?” He asks, already halfway out of his shirt when you nod.

The wind is awful against his naked chest but you thank him for the shirt, kneeling to pluck a seashell from the ground.

“Suna said something… That Osamu is about ninety percent of your impulse control.”

“That’s a joke,” he huffs out. “And it’s not true.”

“What is it like?” You ask. “To be impulsive?”

“Fun,” he shrugs. “Stupid too. I sometimes wish I could stop myself a little.”

“What’s your impulse right now?”

“Ah,” he laughs. “Going back in? No, wait, that’s the smart part of my brain.”

You laugh. “And what is the not smart part of your brain saying?”

“Skinny dipping.”

He clamps his mouth shut right after the words spill out but it’s too late and the only consolation he gets is the fact that you can’t see him blushing in the moonlight.

“Wait here,” you slip out of his shirt and press it into his hands and then you’re gone, leaving him where the sea’s licking at his feet.

“Here,” you press a bundle of fabric into his hands. “Swim shorts and a towel. I think that’s a compromise I’m willing to take.”

“A compromise.”

“Swimming at night is impulsive enough for me at the moment,” you answer. “I’ll turn around so you can change.”

The water is cold, but not unbearably so, and he can’t help but laugh at the way you both hesitate to go in further, dancing around in the shallow water.

“On three?” He asks you, not waiting for you to nod. When he comes up you’re laughing right next to him, breathless from the chill, hair stuck to your face.

“This is the craziest thing I’ve ever done,” you tell him and he says “I can do you one better,” and kisses you.

A person with impulse control would not go swimming at midnight, least of all with the cousin of their former captain, a woman who’s so clearly out of their league, no one needs to point it out.

A person with impulse control would not kiss a woman who’s made it clear she’s not interested, is not interested in a relationship right now, least of all with him.

A person with impulse control would not know how it feels when that woman kisses them back.

Your lips are cold and taste like the sea, but your arms are warm, wrapped around his shoulders like a blanket on a December night.

One of you pulls back, he doesn’t know who, but he whispers your name and you kiss him back again and again and again until he forgets that he’s supposed to be standing, supposed to be holding you up, and topples both of them into the water.

The cold water wakes him up a little but not enough, his arms reach for you as soon as he’s back on the surface but you’ve moved back, hands pressed against your lips.

Atsumu calls your name but you shake your head.

“Please,” he begs but you shake it again.

“Give me a minute,” you ask and he stops, waits as you ask him to, watches the rise and fall of your chest in the milky-white moonlight.

“I really really like you,” you admit, sounding unsure and sure at the same time. “But I don’t know who I am at the moment.”

“You’re you-”

“No,” you shake your head. “Not like that. But like that too, I’m not sure. I don’t… I don’t know what my future is going to be like. Will I stay in the city and if so, which one? Will I move in with Kita like he asked, or… or will I do what my mother says and just… marry and give her a grandchild. I just… I don’t know what I want or who I am and I can’t, I just can’t add a relationship to that.”

“We don’t have to-”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” you ask and he shuts his mouth and swallows his thoughts.

“I think we should go back in,” you tell him a few moments later. “I don’t want us to get sick. That’s the last thing we need. Everyone would ask questions.”

“Everyone already knows that I like you.”

“It’s easy for you,” you tell him as you step out of the water, hand him a towel. “These are your friends.”

“They are your friends too.”

“No, they’re not. They’re Kita’s friends and they let me be a part of it, that’s all. I don’t… I’m not good at making friends. Not like you.”

Atsumu laughs. “You don’t seem to know me very well.”

“What about Tatabe-san?” You ask, shutting him up. “You were the one making friends, not me.”

“That’s not true, she noticed that you liked watching her.”

“But you’re the one who said something.”

You sound desperate now, like a cat that’s stuck in a tree, unable to come down the way it came up because it forgot how to.

“Can I hug you?” He asks, breathes it out like a sigh. “You sound… you sound like you’re going to have a panic attack any minute. Bokkun gets like that sometimes and a hug helps. Or… or getting into tight spaces but I don’t see any, so.”

“Sure,” you choke out, so he hugs you, squeezes you as tightly as you can like he does with Bokkun only that Bokkun is more than twice your size and doesn’t smell half as good.

“I’d really like to love you,” you admit, your face pressed against his chest. “I just don’t know how.”

Atsumu rests his cheek on the top of your head, wishes he could let his feelings pour out like a teapot.

“How about that,” he offers. “You find yourself and then you come back? ‘t’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

“You’re a celebrity,” you remind him. “There are more than enough girls for you.”

“None of them like me like you do.”

Somehow they make it back unseen and unheard, leave sand and salt outside under the little shower head and their secrets too, bury them under the patio like one does with a beloved pet.

Atsumu wishes he could have kissed you one more time, lap up your beauty in the moonlight like a kitten does with spilled milk.

But you’re up the stairs before he gets a chance to ask and all that is left is the memory and the two drawings on the bottom of his suitcase.

---

Atsumu helps Samu in the kitchen the next morning, does his very best to follow every instruction to the point that Samu sits him down at knife point, brows furrowed in that concerned way that’s usually reserved for Akaashi when he overworks himself.

“What’s going on with you?”

“I miss Mom,” Atsumu admits because that’s the closest thing to the truth and yet still very far away.

“You miss Mom?”

“Yeah,” Atsumu shrugs. “Remember how she let us pick little gifts when we got good grades?”

“You always ate the snacks I picked.”

“I didn’t,” he defends himself. “We shared. Your snacks and my toys!”

“You could have just picked a snack if you wanted one too.”

“Yeah and then you’d have been crying about how you can’t decide what to get, a snack or a toy!”

Samu stops, surprise on his face. “You got the toy because I couldn’t decide?”

“Well, not always,” Atsumu huffs. “Most of the toys you wanted were rubbish. But I got the cool ones you picked, like that little red car?”

“Yeah,” Samu smiles. “That one was awesome… But you know you can just call Mom, right?”

“Yeah,” Atsumu nods. “I’m not dumb.”

“So why aren’t you doing that?”

“Don’t make me say it,” he huffs, peeling an already peeled potato until Samu rips it from his hands.

“Tell me or I’ll get Kita.”

“Fine,” Atsumu props his head up with his hands and glares at his brother. “I miss you too, okay?”

Samu’s face softens.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Hey!”

But Samu thumps him on the back, not hard, like he usually does, but softer, almost like a hug.

“You know,” Samu adds after a while, the potatoes dancing in the boiling water. “Emi has some nice girlfriends if you’re lonely. It doesn’t have to be… you know?”

“I’m fine,” Atsumu insists, knowing he can’t tell Samu what happened last night. Not today and maybe not ever. “I have too much to do anyway.”

Too soon it’s time to pack up their things again, cram them into the cars and say goodbye to the ocean for yet another year.

At first, it seems like you’re not coming back with them, your suitcase already in Kita’s truck before Samu calls them back in for a last-minute second breakfast.

“I think I’ll go to Osaka first,” Atsumu hears you say when he comes back from the bathroom, “Uncle Jin wants to meet with me. I’m sure Atsumu can take me, or maybe Osamu?”

“Take you where?” He asks, taking Kita-san’s raised eyebrows at his interruption in stride.

You name the address and he does the mental calculations. “Sure thing, that’s right next to Omi-Omi’s place. I can drop you off there on my way home.”

It’s only a partial lie. Sakusa-san moved recently and it’s on the other side of town, but Kita’s not all that familiar with Osaka and Samu’s not there to correct him like he usually is.

So it’s settled and Atsumu thinks of the little Canvas Tote Bag sitting on top of his stuff, rolled up in his volleyball gear to make sure it doesn’t get damaged.

He’ll give it to you when you’re alone again.

---

Atsumu is not a scaredy-cat.

He’s impulsive and he’s not afraid to take risks and he’s got scolded for that more than enough to remember it.

Still, he doesn’t open his mouth all the way through Osaka after spending almost six hours sitting next to you, not speaking.

Well, that’s not correct. He did speak. He did speak a lot too. Just not… about the important stuff.

At first, it was because there was Emi and Samu and Ginjima too, but now it’s only you and him and he still can’t open his mouth.

Not that you seem to make an effort to change that.

He stops in front of a red light. Just two more blocks and that’s it. He doesn’t know when he’ll see you again.

“Can I get your number?”

Curse his nonexistent impulse control.

“What for?”

“Well, I thought you should have mine, you know, so you know how to contact me when… when you figure out what you want to do. But that would be weird, if I suddenly got a text from an unknown number so I figured it would be best if we exchanged numbers, you know?”

You eye him for a second befor you pull out your phone. “Give me your number then.”

He rattles it off and asks you to call him, rambling on about how he sometimes switches the five and the seven at the end - he’s never done that but he’s going to die if he gives you the wrong number in the end - and his heart only calms when he hears his telltale ringtone from the pocket of his jeans.

“I have something for you,” he almost spits it out at the next cross section, eyes on the road.

“Atsumu-”

“It’s not from me, well, maybe a little bit because I paid, but it’s from Tatabe-san. You should take it.”

“I can’t take it.”

“Yes, you can,” he disagrees, nodding wildly to emphasize it. “How are you going to figure out what you’re going to do if you don’t take the gifts you get? Or... or the changes, you know? How many people get a starter kit gifted from a famous street artist, huh?”

You laugh. “I guess not that many people.”

“See?! And it’s not like you need to be able to sell it. Heck, you can be awful at it, for all I care. But if it’s making you happy, that’s more than enough.”

“Did you ever look at the drawings?”

“No,” he shakes his head, still looking for the right words. “Why? Did she draw me ugly?”

You laugh again, louder this time, snorting a little at the end.

“No,” you catch your breath. “No, not at all. I just figured you would have looked at it because you wanted to have one so bad.”

He parks the car in front of Sakusa’s old apartment complex, fully aware that he’s on the wrong side of the street but he needs just a few more minutes with you, just… just another chance to make you laugh.

“I know I’m a little conceited,” he admits, “but I don’t care for a portrait. You just looked like you wanted to stay a little longer, so I played my part.”

Your eyes are twinkling, as if you’d picked the stars from the nightsky and hid them in your face. “Are you sure it was only that? You did pose a little too enthusiastically.”

“Can you blame me for being a natural?”

You laugh again and his heart blooms at the sound, like a wave that rises high only to crash when he realizes that he’s going to hear it for quite some time, not knowing how long.

“We’re… we’re here,” he clears his throat, reaching behind his seat for the Canvas Tote bag. “This is for you.”

You peek inside.

“Both drawings?”

“Yeah,” he swallows. “I don’t think I should keep it. I’m not going to forget how you look anyway, and if Samu sees it, that would be kinda hard to explain.”

You look up, surprised. “You wanted to keep my portrait?”

Atsumu flushes. “Shit, sorry, I mean sorry for saying shit, ah! Sorry! Sorry for… uh… considering that an option, I didn’t think-”

“Tsumu.”

He freezes like a deer in headlights. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.” You lean forward and press a kiss to his temple before pulling back. “I’ll… I’ll try to be quick.”

“Take your time.”

You hesitate. “I shouldn’t, you know? You deserve someone easier to love.”

“Those hardest to love need it most.” He hesitates. “I don’t know where I heard that, but I… agree with it, you know? Mostly because I always felt like that line was about me.”

You smile.

“Goodbye Tsumu.”

He can feel himself fold into each other but he keeps himself up, smiles for you.

“Goodbye.”

---

He drives around town aimlessly for a while, trying to think of a place to go.

Not home, because there’s no one waiting for him there but a pot of dried-up basil he forgot to water.

He could hit up Bokkun, tell him all about you. But Bokkun is a sap and they’d just end up crying together as they watch a rerun of Friends, sharing one too many beers as Rachel and Ross try to figure out their feelings.

Shoyou’s in Brazil for the month and Meian is a great Captain, but not the kind of Captain you go to cry over a broken heart.

“What do you want?” Sakusa’s voice snarls through the intercom.

“Omi-Omi, didn’t you miss me?”

“Not one bit.”

“Come on,” he whines. “I just got my heart broken.”

“Deal with it.”

“Please?”

Silence. Then, the long-awaited buzzer. “Don’t cry on my carpet. It’s new.”

Sakusa eyes him from the Couch like one does with an ugly bug.

The Couch is forbidden territory in his new apartment ever since they left a stain on the old Couch in the old apartment. Atsumu says they because in all honesty, it was Bokkun who left the stain, he just had the bad luck of being there at the same time.

The carpet isn’t too bad though, softer than the Couch at the Beach House anyway.

“You really like her, huh?” Sakusa comments finally before sipping his tea. No hard drinks at Sakusa’s new place either.

“Is it that obvious?”

“You’ve always been as subtle as a tow truck,” Sakusa scoffs.

“Hey. You should give me advice instead. Or at least comfort me.”

“Get over her,” Sakusa deals the final blow. “She’s right, you know? You could have a lot of women. God knows what they see in you but there are some people who want you. Why wait for someone who might never come around?”

“She’s like you, you know,” Atsumu points out. “Convinced she’s really terrible when she’s actually really nice.”

“Thank you for the insult,” Sakusa tells him with a straight face. “Now can you please leave?”

Atsumu huffs and turns around instead, burrowing his face in the carpet.

Above him, Sakusa grumbles into his tea for a full minute before turning the TV on.

To anyone who doesn’t know him better, this would look insenstive.

But Atsumu knows Sakusa, maybe, probably, most likely better than Sakusa would like.

Because Sakusa doesn’t like to watch Volleyball Match on his dowtime. Atsumu does.

And that’s very much a Volleyball Match on TV right now.

Atsumu turns his head to see better.

“If you cry on my carpet I’m kicking you out.”

---

Atsumu ends up sleeping over, waking only when Sakusa kicks him in the side on his way out in the morning.

“I’m going jogging. Don’t touch anything while I’m gone.”

“‘kay.” He turns back around, snuggling into a pillow that has magically appeared by his side.

He seriously needs a carpet like that in his own apartment.

His phone beeps. He ignores it. It’s probably just Samu or maybe Bokkun. They can wait, sleep can’t.

You: Atsumu, I went on a walk last night. Drew a little too. I thought about it a lot. If you want to see me again, my train to Hyogo leaves at twelve. Meet me at the train station?

You: It’s okay if you don’t. Maybe I’m reading too much into this.

You: Forget that last message. I’ll see you when I see you.

Atsumu pulls into the train station parking lot at two minutes to twelve only to watch the only train present leave the station in front of his eyes.

He’s too stunned to even curse.

He’s never been that early to anything only to be too late.

“Atsumu?”

He turns around so fast he almost trips.

You’re sitting on a park bench, your suitcase to your feet.

“You didn’t take the train?”

“No, I…” You laugh awkwardly. “I didn’t want you to be late, so I said twelve. It actually leaves in half an hour.”

“I wasn’t late.”

You laugh but it sounds almost like a sob. “I know, I….”

“Hey,” he rushes over, taking your hands in his. “I’m here. I’m here. I’m sorry that I didn’t come sooner, I slept until eleven because Omi-Omi didn’t wake me up and-”

You sniffle, laughing and crying at the same time.

“You really are something, Atsumu Miya.”

He swallows, dares a sheepish smile. “But you like me?”

You nod. “Yeah. I like you. I… I draw you. Last night, you know?”

You hand him the paper, embarassment written all over your face.

And Atsumu’s never been good with art. He’s the kind of guy who likes to joke about modern art, pretending he could do that just as well when he doesn’t even know what it’s supposed to be.

But it doesn’t matter if your drawing is good or not, if he can recognize himself in it or not. It matters that you drew. And that you drew him.

“Was it fun?” He asks.

“Yeah,” you pull your shoulders up, head down. “It was. I… It reminded me of spending time with you. Because that’s fun too.”

He grins. “Because I’m fun.”

“Because you’re fun,” you agree. “And I… I don’t know where I wanna go or who I wanna be but I wanna have fun. With you. If you want to, I mean.”

“As in a relationship?”

“As in a relationship,” you confirm.

Atsumu smiles, wide enough that his cheeks hurt.

“Heck yes,” he tells you. “Sorry about the curse word.”

“You’re forgiven.”

“Does that mean I can kiss you now?”

You pull your shoulders higher for a second before you let them drop with a laugh.

“Yeah,” you nod. “Yeah, you can kiss me now.”

And then you meet him in the middle.

Those hardest to love need it most…

“Can you pick Kita-san up?” Samu asks during their daily phone call.

“Of course I can pick up my girlfriend,” Atsumu grumbles, pausing the music. He doesn’t need Samu’s nagging in the background when your song plays.

“Wait, you’re talking about my girlfriend, right?”

“Yes, Tsumu, I mean your girlfriend,” Samu scoffs and Atsumu can hear the eye roll through the phone.

“Hey, just checking,” he bites back. “Do I have to melt the butter before I put it in? It’s kinda not working.”

“Did you leave it out like I told you too?”

“No, I forgot.”

Samu huffs. “Put that stuff away, I’m bringing you cookies.”

“I don’t want your cookies, I want to make my own!”

“Then you should have left out the butter like I told you to!”

“Don’t yell at me, it’s my anniversary not yours on the line!”

“Fine!” Samu huffs again before calming down a little. “I have some soft butter, I can bring that over.”

“That would be nice.”

“I’m bringing Emi with.”

“Please don’t, she’s worse in the kitchen than I am.”

Atsumu hears it, just faintly in the background of the call, but he hears it, Emi’s instant reply.

“I heard that.”

And he can’t help but smile at the thought that in less than twentyfour hours, this will be his reality too. When Samu calls, you’ll be his background noise and when Kita calls, you’ll be his.

Fools, all of them. Fools in love.

#my writing #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #hq x reader #haikyuu!!#miya x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu #msby atsumu #sakusa #kita #osamu

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shadowbriar · 2 years ago

Text

George Weasley - Loved and Lost You

Pairing : (F/M) || George Weasley x Gryffindor!Reader Word Count : 4.8k Warning : Mention of food. One foul language. Synopsis : Fake dating gone wrong when she realises that her silly idea to help the Hufflepuff boy costs her her bestfriend. Notes : I had no idea how to end this, definitely not my best ending to date but I hope you can still enjoy it. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

“What would I do without you, truly?”

She shrugs, passing the redhead his quidditch robe, “I don’t know, actually. Probably died a long time ago.”

The boy grins, receiving the said item thankfully.

The sun was beaming, steady wind blowing that lovely morning as the Gryffindors began to crowd the quidditch field. It was another typical practice but for as long as she could remember, she has always been a constant audience of the activity. She wasn’t sure if it was purely caused by her admiration of the said sport or was there any other hidden meaning she tries so hard to bury inside her chest, but if Voldemort himself is not outside of her doorstep and threatening her with the cruciatus curse, best believe she would come and cheer for her favourite Wealeys.

Yes, Weasleys.

Though it was obvious for everyone else that she has always been more fond of one of the twins, she would always argue that they both are her best friends and that she loves them equally. Sure she has been more open with one of them, spent more time on his bed and shared more of her heartfelt stories with him, but that doesn’t mean that she has any special feelings for him. They simply connect better, like the way honey fits best with tea instead of sugar.

“Say, do you have any plans after this?” He asked, putting on his robe in the process “I was wondering if you’d like to do that Charms essay together?”

“By together you mean by copying mine?”

He grins sheepishly, “You know me best.”

“Yes, I’ve heard that before.” She says as she rolls her eyes “Meet you here after?”

“Sound.”

He ruffled her hair, the very dear habit he does whenever they’re going to part ways, before he jogs lightly to the field.

She finds herself walking to the bleacher, finding a spot next to Hermione who was trying to bite down her smile, “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Oh, don’t ‘nothing’ me, Hermione. I know something’s running wild in your precious witty brain.”

“It’s just that,” The younger Gryffindor vents, turning to her “You and George look so cute together. Whatever is stopping you two from dating? Everyone could see the heart eyes you’ve been exchanging with each other.”

She rolls her eyes, “There’s no heart eyes between us. Don’t make up words, Hermione, you know how rumours go wild in this school.”

“Oh, but there totally is!” She argues, feeling rather curbed over her emotions “George has never looked at anyone the way he looks at you and vice versa. You both are neck deep in love with each other yet refuse to acknowledge it. Merlin, you both are denying it for no reason, really!”

She turns her head to watch the game, not entertaining the younger girl any longer.

Hermione wasn’t the first to question their friendship. In fact she’s one of the least vocal about it, compared to Ginny and Harry would blurt out the questions right in front of the younger twin, making the atmosphere to be awkward for the next 2 minutes to come. It would be a lie if she never pondered about the underlying truth beneath the curious accusations their friends made, but being best friends with the Twins was all she’s known for since she first stepped in Hogwarts. She’s been the honorary third twin, so Fred called, and their close relationship has always been something of her identity. There really isn’t anything more than that.

They were all just making things up, she was sure. There’s no heart eyes, no soft gazes and George definitely doesn’t like her that way. If he does, she would’ve known about it because who else could read him like an open book? Right?

—-

Her attempt on keeping her giggles in was evidently failing as George continued to nudge her under the table. Troubles in Potion is always the worst and she wouldn’t want to get any of them detention from Snivellus, but what exactly can you expect from sitting next to one of the Twins? It would be a cold day in hell if they don’t try to tickle or at the very least make silly comments about the Professor throughout the lesson.

And as if on cue, George was pulled up from his seat abruptly, arm being yanked away by the foul Professor, “Switch your seat with Diggory. Now.”

The joy on both their faces turn into horror in the blink of an eye. George nods silently, packing his belongings. She shot an apologetic smile at him, watching him as he shuffled away from their table. Diggory, who looks surprised that his name was being called, is now walking to their table, his unfinished essays disorganised in his hands.

“Hi.”

She smiles, nodding, “Hello, Diggory.”

She glances at George, making sure that the boy wasn’t much affected by Snape’s wrest, though she knew that it would require much more than the Professor’s assault to frighten the boy. Hell, she wasn’t even sure there would ever be anything George Weasley is afraid of. That boy has always been confident and undaunted no matter how severe the circumstances he was in. Yet she still couldn’t stop herself from checking in on him. It has become an unconscious habit she picked up over the years.

George wiggles his eyebrows at her, showing his unphased state as he takes a seat. She rolled her eyes. Of course he’s still being his jesterself.

She turns her head back to her paper, only to notice Diggory’s eyes glued to a few tables in front of them. She follows his direction, raising her brows as she realises that he was watching Patricia Stimpson intently. She looks back at Diggory who still hasn’t blinked from the last she saw him.

“Is there something on Stimpson’s face that I didn’t notice?” She asks aloud, making the boy snap out of his thought “Is it only noticeable from your side of the table?”

“No, there’s nothing on her face.” He answers, cheeks turning rosy “I was just spacing out.”

She squints her eyes, noting the nervous shift of his gesture, “Are my eyes deceiving me or are you blushing right now, Diggory.”

“Shut up.”

“Oh, Merlin!” She exclaims quietly, grinning at the secret she’s just learned “You fancy Stimpson, don’t you!”

“I said, shut up.”

She nudges the boy, teasing the poor Hufflepuff who’s now trying to bury his head under his arm, hiding his face that is as red as a tomato. In no time the two strangers become close. Funny how one fortuitous action could bring the two close in no time. It was as if they’ve been friends for years.

And the sight wasn’t left unnoticed by a pair of jealous eyes.

George chews on his lower lip with anxiety. He’s never seen her grow close with someone as fast as this, not even with Lee who has been their fourth wheel for years. What is it about Diggory that seems to be such a magnet for girls? Was it his pretty face? His humour perhaps? Surely he couldn’t have better jokes than the prankster of the castle.

The redhead’s bubble of thought burst as a crumpled paper hit his head. He turned to the direction where it came, seeing his twin who’s gesturing him to open it. With a huff, he opens the parchment paper and his frown grows even more sour.

‘Losers Weepers.’

—-

She throws her head to the back as she laughs her heart out, giving George light punches to the arms. The Gryffindor table was full of familiar faces. It has been a while since the whole squad was present. With the different year they’re in, different classes they’re taking, and evidently different teenage troubles they’re facing, spending breakfast together seems like an impossible task to do. Now that everyone’s present, she couldn’t find a reason to leave the table early.

But one.

“Hey, you.” A voice calls, greeting her with a smile as she turns to face him “Ready to go?”

“Of course!”

George’s brows were furrowed, disapproving her who’s now standing from her seat, “Where are you going?”

“Oh, Cedric and I are planning to do our Potion essays early.” She explains hastily “Also, George, you wouldn’t mind switching partners with him, would you? I kinda need his help with the upcoming assignments.”

The boy blinks, completely taken aback at the wave of information and requests she’s throwing at him.

“Brilliant!” She exclaims, taking his silence as approval “Let’s go, Ced.”

The whole table was left appalled, watching as she walked away with the Hufflepuff boy. Ginny and Hermione were audibly gasping when she linked her arms with him and he ruffles her hair, skipping out of the Great Hall happily. The sight was so peculiar they would’ve preferred seeing Dumbledore wearing a bikini than to witness the situation for the second time. The things she was doing, linking arms, laughing, and getting all jumpy was a sight they would see with George, not Cedric.

Since when were the two close?

“What’s just happened?” Harry broke the silence, blinking his eyes “What’s she doing with Cedric Diggory?”

“Didn’t you hear? They’re going to do their Potions essay.” Fred comments mockingly, knowing that his twin isn’t capable of making up for an answer “I didn’t even know we have Potions essay.”

The younger twin stabs on his innocent sausage as if trying to butcher it to its death. His eyes were vacant, feeling a silly pool of knots forming inside his stomach. To know that she prefers to do Potions essay than to spend time with her literal family at Hogwarts shows exactly where Cedric is positioned in her priority list.

Disappointed would be the most understated word he’s feeling at the moment. She has never been that close to anyone but him. He had always been the one she would drop the world for yet now he could sense that the seat was filled with others. He knew that something was going on. There’s no chance in the seven hells that they simply want to do their Potions essay early. Since when does she care about Snivellus’ classes anyway? Yet the realisation only further stomps him, making him drown deeper into the pits of anguish.

“I’m sure they’re just friends, like we all are.” Hermione comments, noticing the dejected look on George’s face “There’s nothing really to be worried about, George.”

He chuckles bitterly, not looking up to see the girl, “Why would I be worried?”

The table went quiet. They all could see the sorrow bleeding out of his skin. It was common knowledge to the pack that he’s madly in love with her. In contrast to her blatant denial whenever their relationship was being questioned, George chose the more vague path of simply smiling and clinging his arms around her shoulders, showing a sign of approval but not really. As if he was waiting for her to stop denying it so he could finally shed the mask he’s been wearing all these years.

Yet it seems like he wouldn’t ever get the chance to take it off now.

“George-”

“I’ll see you guys at the field.”

The boy shoots a weak smile to the group, standing up as he picks up his satchel and exits the Great Hall. The group stares at each other, feeling the mutual sorry for the heartbroken boy. Everyone could see the quidditch robe left unconsciously on the table and yet, for the very first time, she wouldn’t be the one giving it to him later.

—-

“There’s Stimpson.” She whispered to Cedric before faking a laugh, glancing at the girl who’s just entered the Great Hall “Quick, put your hand around my waist.”

“Is that really necessary?” He comments but still does the gesture “Could she even see my hand under these giant tables?”

“Stop, Ced, you’re hurting my stomach!”

The boy chuckles, watching her fake laughter with glee, “You’re entirely something else, you know?”

She grins as she takes a bite of her toast.

The plan was in motion. The two of them have done more public display of their intimacy, indicating that a romantic affair is happening between the two without telling anyone the truth behind such actions. Cedric found the idea to be ridiculous initially, but now seeing Stimpson to be taking silent glances and frowning lightly at the sight of them together, he came to the realisation that not only is she a great actress, she’s one hell of a genius too.

Yet he couldn’t help but to notice that the green emotions were radiated not only from Stimpson but from one of the Weasley twins too. If anything, the younger twin seems to be in a different level of jealousy that everytime he looks in his direction, he would find the Gryffindor’s eyes to be throwing him daggers.

“You know,” Cedric starts, clearing his throat “As much as I’m grateful for you for this stunt, are you sure it is fine for you to be fake dating me?”

“Yeah, of course. Why do you ask?”

“Because something tells me that one of the Weasley twins is despising it.”

She frowns, turning to see the Gryffindor table where the twins usually sit. Her eyes met George’s for a brief second before he looked away, joining the conversation Lee and Fred was having. She notices from afar the light hue of grey underneath his eyes and how his smile doesn’t seem to reach his eyes, no wrinkles around it as he laughs.

Guilt starts to creep inside her. When was the last time she truly looked at him? He looks awful, despite still looking as charming as ever. She could tell that something was bothering him and she feels terrible for not knowing what caused it. She used to know everything about him like the back of her hand. How long has she been gone, really?

“Are you sure nothing’s going on between you two?” Cedric asks, breaking her train of thought “I really don’t want to be the cause of your ruined relationship.”

“What, no. Nothing’s going on between us. We’re just friends.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.” He argues with a shrug “I mean I’ve seen you two around. Even a blind man could tell that something’s going on between you two. Do you not reciprocate his feelings, is that it?”

“What feelings?”

Cedric stares at her with disbelief, a teasing smile tugged on his lips, “You’re joking.”

“Do I look like I'm joking?”

“He fancies you!” He exclaims with a nudge “Come on, surely you’re not that daft to see it.”

“George doesn’t fancy me.” She comments, looking away from the Hufflepuff boy to hide her blush “Why does everyone keep telling me that.”

“Maybe because that’s the truth.”

She glares at him before looking back down to her breakfast.

Her thoughts were running wild. Being told that George was in love with her by their group of friends has always been something of an ordinary. She never thought much of it as she figured it was just one of those friendly teasing you make within your group of friends. But now hearing it from Cedric who was the literal definition of an outsider makes her ponder if such words ever actually hold some meaning. Is it really that obvious for others that he hoards feelings for her?

“Look, all I’m saying is this fake dating goes both ways.” Cedric continues “On my end I get to make Stimpson jealous and it seems like it’s working so far. On yours, I think that it’s making one of the twins jealous. What I’m questioning is, are you up for such a consequence? Are you ready if he somehow changes his demeanour around you because of our fake relationship?”

She frowns, “George wouldn’t change just because we’re dating, fake or not.”

“Are you sure? Because it looks like he’s ready to hex me to death.”

“Positive.” She rolls her eyes at him “In fact, I’ll come over to their table now and show you that his actions would remain the same.”

“Bet you 10 galleons he wouldn’t.”

She shows a disapproving expression before standing from her seat, planting a small kiss to Cedric’s cheek before walking away from the Hufflepuff table. For some reason she could feel her heart beating faster, unsure if she’s more afraid to prove her words wrong or true. Neither of the outcomes seem to be pleasing for her. If George really has feelings for her then she wouldn’t know how she could live her life knowing that she’s hurt him with the fake dating. Yet if he doesn’t, why does she feel like she would crash and fall from the bitter truth?

“Morning, Gentlemen.” She greets the table “Saved a seat for me?”

“Aren’t you already secured one with the Hufflepuffs?”

Her smile dilutes, George’s cold tone poisoning her, “I’m still a Gryffindor, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, well maybe there’s another spot open down the right.” George continues, still not looking up to her “You can join Ron and his group of friends.”

“There’s a spot right next to you, George.”

The boy picks up his satchel, placing it in the mentioned space, “Full. Sorry.”

She blinks at his callous gesture. It’s hard to believe that such words came out of his lips, the very one person who has always showered her with affection and warmth. She could see the same appalled expression shown on Fred and Lee’s faces, who didn’t expect George to be this bitter at her. Sure they know that he’s been struggling with the new sight of the couple, but never in a million years have they expected to see George being this hard to her.

“I see.” She replies, forcing a smile now “Well, I’ll see you guys at the field then.”

“Don’t even bother coming if you’re going to be with the enemy.”

“What’s got your wand in a knot, George?!” She bursts “Why are you suddenly so cruel to me?”

“Me? Cruel?” The boy questions, this time looking up to see her with angered eyes “I’m not the one tossing their friends away for some pretty boy she’s only befriended with for weeks!”

“Toss away? I didn’t come to one of your quidditch practices and you think that I’m tossing you away?” She questions, chuckling bitterly “I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware that being friends with you meant that I couldn’t date someone I like.”

George smirks, “At least you got that part right.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You really think that Diggory likes you?” He asks, this time standing up to tower her “You really think that someone like him would ever like someone as bland like you? You’re dense if you think that he ever likes you back.”

She let out a shuddering breath, tears starting to prick on her eyes from his harsh words. George seems to realise the weight of his words too as he blinks, facial features turning softer yet still showing the much bottled anger he’s erupting. He opens his mouth before closing it again, unable to make up words to follow his last.

“Fuck off, George.” She says with a cold tone, glaring at the boy.

Fighting her tears, she walks back to the Hufflepuff table with a broken heart. The possibility that George likes her has certainly been crossed out. The words he uttered are not the ones you said to someone you like, let alone someone you love. His words were only the reflection of his jealousy and bitterness that she’s now found someone who could appreciate her as much as he does. Well, did, as she swore not to ever befriend the red head again.

She takes the seat next to Cedric, sniffling slightly, “Kiss me.”

“What?” He questions, looking worried at her teary eyes “What happened? Are you alright?”

“Just kiss me, Ced.”

And so the boy leans in, kissing her gently on the lips. For the first time the couple finally shows intimate gestures, something more than holding hands or hugs, something that further proves that the two are indeed in a romantic relationship. The stunt was witnessed by the eyes of the Great Hall. Some were gasping in awe, some raised their brows in confusion, and two were staring at the couple with a sinking heart. One having a worse anguish than the other.

—-

She chews on her lower lip, trying to focus on the words Cedric was telling but his first sentence rang in her head like a broken record. Stimpson has finally asked him for a study date, meaning that she’s finally taken interest in him. The objective of the fake dating is achieved, there really isn’t any reason left for them to keep the act.

She should be happy that Cedric could finally get the girl he’s always been pining for, yet a bigger part of her wished that Stimpson would approach Cedric a bit later. Perhaps a few weeks from now when things between her and George were already settled. When he’s finally come to her and apologise for the hurtful words he spat on her that day. She knew that there was no way that Cedric would ever like her, it’s not like she cared about it anyway, but did he really think that she was bland? That she wasn’t worth Cedric or any guy’s time? Is she really that unattractive?

“Hey, you okay?” Cedric asks, looking worried at her now “You seem off today.”

“I’m fine.” She says with a smile, taking a sip of her butterbeer “So we should end this act, then.”

He nods lightly, “I suppose.”

“Why don’t you sound happy about it?”

“Because I know things between you and one of the Weasley twins is yet to be resolved.” He explains, taking her hand and giving it a light squeeze “I’m very sorry that with my uprising, comes your downfall with him.”

“Don’t be silly, it wasn’t your fault.” She rolls her eyes, smiling “We’ll figure something out. He’ll come around.”

No, she wasn’t sure that he'd come around. It has been weeks since their dreadful fight and George has made every effort to avoid her. She hardly ever saw him, not even at the Great Hall or the Common Room. It was as if he was a ghost that used to reside inside her brain, now gone into thin air as some beautiful myth she’s to tell to others.

But at the same time, George was there. He was still in their classes, still at quidditch practices, and every other activity that they used to do together. The fact that he hasn’t made any effort to fix their friendship hurts her. She didn’t realise that the foolish idea she proposed to Cedric would lead to such a devastating outcome.

And she too didn’t expect that their fight would make her realise that she’s in love with her own best friend.

Perhaps she was denying everyone’s question about their relationship because she was scared that the affection only flows one way. George has never approved nor denied the accusation thrown at him about them anyway and he certainly never made any effort to advance with his feelings should he ever have any in the first place. It was hard for her to tell if what others say was true about them and she didn’t want to have high hopes over something that he himself hasn’t approved of.

But now that the fight’s happened, how he blatantly says that she was bland, she knew that the words others say were mere lies. George had never liked her that way. She has always been a friend to him, nothing more. The affection he’s shown to her was nothing more than platonic and it broke her heart.

“So should we end it here? Right now?” She asks, taking a deep breath “The sooner we break up, the sooner you can woo Stimpson. Might want to be fast before she loses interest.”

Cedric smiles, nodding and standing up to give her a hug, “Thank you, and I hope you can reconcile your friendship with Weasley.”

She nods, waving goodbye to him who’s now walking out of the inn.

She let out a sigh, feeling pathetic to herself now at the corner of the Three Broomsticks. She’s lost George and now she lost Cedric too. Just how worse can her life be now?

Yet as if she’s spoken too fast, she saw her group of friends entering the inn. Fred waves at her, followed by Lee who calls for her name. George was standing not far behind them, seemingly not ready to meet her yet still follows the other two.

“Hello, stranger.” Fred greets, walking to her table “Long time no see. Where’s pretty boy?”

“Freddie,” She replies with a smile “Gone, we broke up.”

Fred’s smile fades, frowning, “I’m sorry, Love, I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, it just happened, actually.” She answers nonchalantly, turning to George this time “Supposedly you're happy now, aren’t you George?”

The boy didn’t say a word, only staring at her with an apologetic expression.

“You know what, I have to go.” She says, not wanting to spend any more minutes with his presence “I’ll see you guys around.”

And so she takes her purse and walks away from the table. She exits the inn in a hurry, not wanting to be followed by any of them. Her chest was tight and head loud. So many things running inside her mind and every one of it revolves around one particular ginger.

How could she face him now? How could she face him after their fight? He was being a jerk that day and now that they’ve broken up, it would only further feed his ego. Being right about their short lived fake relationship would be something George would wear like a badge of honour. She couldn’t care less about him being right, what bothers her is the fact that not only was he right but that she’s also the loser who hoped that her best friend was actually in love with her too.

Why couldn’t George be jealous the way Stimpson did? Why does he have to be jealous for a whole different reason? Why couldn’t he like her?

“Love, wait!”

She fastened her pace as she heard his voice calling from behind. No, she’s not ready to talk to him. Her head is still fuzzy from all the questions and self blame. Meeting him would only lead to another argument and she’s unsure if her quivering heart could survive another turbulence.

“Wait,” George says as he catches her arm, making her stop on her track “Please, I just wanted to talk.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk, George.” She says, still not looking at him “You’ve made your point and you’re right, no need to rub it on my face.”

“No, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. What I wanted to say is-”

“Look, I’m tired, alright? It’s been a long day and I really want to get back to my room.”

“I know, this would be fast, I promise-”

“Not now, George.”

She turns her body, ready to walk away before he grabs her wrist again and turns her.

“What?!”

Before she could complain further from his persistent action, she finds herself being kissed on the lips. She could feel how tense George’s body was, in contrast to how gentle his kiss was. His eyes were tightly shut, as if afraid to see her rejection from the abrupt action. The grip on her wrist loosen, giving her the chance to pull away and shove him off if she would want to.

George lets out a nervous sigh when he pulls away. He could see her appalled expression when he opened his eyes, his blood running cold from the possible outcome of his hasty action. Would she hate him even worse now?

“I’m sorry.” He gathers, voice barely above whisper “I- I don’t know what came into me. I just-”

She didn’t let him finish his words. She pulled him for another kiss, this time showing him how to properly kiss a girl. She pulls him close, eliminating any distance between them that seems to be growing further apart lately, He hesitantly rests his hands on her waist, showing more meaning and confidence to his action. Both of their hearts were beating wild, adrenaline pumping through their vessels as they prayed that the other party wouldn’t regret this once they breath for some air.

“We have so much to talk about.” George says in between the kisses “How is this happening?”

“Less talking,” She answers short “More kissing.”

George grins through the kisses. He now has his hands cupping her cheeks gently, giving her his most possible soft caresses. Merlin knows how much he waited and prayed for this to happen. The second guessing and self doubt now has dissipated, melting away with every peck they share. At last the denial has come to a close. Both acknowledging and embracing their long hoarded feelings for each other with glee. What was once loved and lost, have now returned, giving them the chance to properly show their devotion this time.

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