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theonotti · 5 months

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MIO | OS | t.n.

Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!Hufflepuff!reader

Word Count: 9.5k

Summary: Voldemort won. Harry Potter is dead. But the Order of the Phoenix is still fighting, with two surprising allies who have very different reasons for aiding their cause.

Warnings: Pretty angsty. AU where Voldemort did not die at the end of DH.

Notes: This is heavily inspired by Secrets & Masks and Manacled. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

That Final Night One Shot

Late.

They’re fucking late.

Taking a long drag of his cigarette, Theo looks down at his watch.

Twenty minutes late, to be exact.

“How long are we expected to wait here?” Mattheo growls, pacing across the wood of the decrepit bar. The floorboards creak with every step. Theo is sitting at one of the tables, a sigh forcing its way out of his lungs as he watches his friend. In one hand is a cigarette, the other hand mindlessly tracing the vandalism that had been scratched into the top of the table.

“Another ten minutes and then we’re fucking off.”

The bar has been long abandoned, making it their top choice for discreet meetings. They had cycled through a few different locations before they finally found the bar. The walls are a sloppy black color, which is mostly covered in 80’s posters, both movies and musical talents alike. Theo’s eyes drift from poster to poster. He’s seen them what feels like a thousand times, and yet he still finds it hard to tear his eyes away when he stares at them.

An hour has already passed since their arrival, but that was due to the ungodly amount of wards and disillusionment charms that they needed to cast before the meeting, a ritual that has become quite routine. Once everything is set, they’ll briefly discuss what they’ll say, and then they wait. Theo finds the extra waiting time peaceful, usually. It gives him a chance to mentally prepare for the carnage that comes to his psyche afterwards. The guilt. The fear. But this time, the stakes are higher, increasing the tension in his muscles much too soon. He can feel the pain already in his lower back, and he doesn’t want to imagine the aches he’ll be feeling once he returns home.

“Can’t we just kill them?”

Theo considers this question as he lets his eyes jump back to Mattheo.

“That would probably defeat the purpose of why we’re here.”

“Sure, but I still hate Weasley and his stupid face. Just one Cruciatus curse at his ugly face would be okay, surely. I won’t even make it a long one. Four minutes tops.”

Theo boredly watches the smoke from his cigarette float up towards the ceiling as he ignores Mattheo. Every moment that passes increases his irritation. He finds himself wondering if it’s a power move on their part. They hold all the cards, so they can keep him waiting.

Something in the air triggers, both men looking towards the door. Theo’s fingers tense around the cigarette as he brings it to his mouth to take another drag, his other hand dropping down from the table to clench around his wand as it rests on his lap. The dimly lit room has a smoky haze, all thanks to Mattheo and Theo disregarding the “No Smoking Allowed” sign that is appropriately starting to fall off the wall.

The door opens, Ron Weasley followed by Hermione Granger walking in. Theo has long lost count of how many times they’ve met with Granger and Weasley, yet it still feels jarring every time he sees them. Maybe it’s because their appearance catches him off guard each time.

Despite them all being in their mid twenties, they all look tired and worn. The rosey cheeks that Granger sported while they were in school are now gaunt and hollow. Dark circles are painted under her eyes, along with Weasley’s, and she keeps her bushy hair contained in two french braids going down her back. Weasley keeps his hair short now, and his body is more built than it had ever been when they were at Hogwarts. His boy-like features are long gone, with gray already peppering his ginger hair, and if Theo didn’t know any better, he would’ve guessed that Weasley was in his late thirties at the least. The life in their eyes had long drained out, replaced with a coldness that chilled anyone who happened to be stuck in their gaze.

War hadn’t been kind to Theo or Mattheo either.

Mattheo has more scars on his face than he did back in school, and he grew his hair long in a feeble attempt to hide them. There was a time that he wore them like a badge of honor, but since the start of the war and his PTSD becoming worse than ever, they no longer were something he pretended to be proud of. He’s since developed an anxiety twitch, his whole face seeming to spasm whenever there’s a loud noise not caused by him, or tense moment. Though they don’t live together anymore, now that Theo has full ownership of Nott Manor, when they had, Theo could remember all the nights of hearing his best friend scream and cry in his sleep from across the mansion. It was more often than not, and it was unbearably hard to get Mattheo to calm down from the vivacious nightmares.

The opposite could be said for Theo. Instead of nights filled with intense dreams of death and melancholy, Theo simply doesn’t sleep. He couldn’t, for the life of him, shut his brain off. And while that had always been an issue for him to some degree, it had become exacerbated since his transition from student to soldier. Theo doesn’t know what being tired feels like anymore. It’s so ingrained in his psyche that it would be more abnormal for him to not be tired. All he can do is adjust, living off coffee and the occasional upper to keep him moving.

Weasley leans on the wall beside the door. His demeanor is much more unpleasant than normal as his eyes flit between Theo and Mattheo. Theo pretends not to notice as he looks at Granger, who’s standing in the middle of the room. She always did all the talking. Theo assumes it’s because of the way she carries herself, and they certainly take her more seriously than they could any Weasley. Besides being a fighter for the Order of the Phoenix, Granger is a war negotiator. She deals with prisoner exchanges and, eventually, peace talks. Although, considering it’s been seven years since the Battle of Hogwarts, Theo is less confident of the possibility of any sort of peace treaty happening any time soon. For the entire duration of the war, it was her that Theo dealt with when it came to these sorts of things, before and after their betrayal.

She clears her throat.

“What information do you have for us?”

The strain in her voice is lost on no one. The tension in the air is so thick, Theo is convinced he could grab it if he tried.

Mattheo stops his pacing, turning to face her full on. His anger is palpable.

“Stop with the bullshit,” He snaps. “Let’s talk about why we’re really here today.”

Weasley’s hand tightens around his wand, but he doesn’t move. Theo keeps his eyes on him to ensure it stays that way before turning back to Granger.

“You have Malfoy.” Theo’s voice is quiet, tone neutral.

The corners of her mouth twitch upward.

“We have Malfoy.”

Mattheo lets out a frustrated sigh.

“We can’t continue to cooperate with you until you hand him back.”

Granger’s expression doesn’t change, making it clear that this reaction was expected.

“He’s quite the bargaining tool. What are you willing to give for him?” A beat passes. “Or I guess I should say, who?”

Mattheo turns to look at Theo, who can tell just by that exchange of a glance that his friend’s patience is wearing horrifically thin.

“We can ensure the release of Luna Lovegood and Seamus Finnegan. And we’re prepared to give you the maps of the hidden prisons in Sussex.” Theo conveniently forgets to mention that they were already planning to give them the maps, regardless of the way things went at this meeting.

Granger turns to look at Weasley, who merely raises his eyebrows, before turning back to Theo.

“He’s Draco Malfoy.”

Theo’s hand curls tighter around his wand.

Mattheo huffs loudly, throwing his hand down and smacking it on the bar top. The sound is so loud that Granger flinches, and Weasley pushes off the wall suddenly, but doesn’t move forward.

“You know bloody well that our heads will be on a fucking spike if we don’t get him back,” He hisses at them. “Then who will aid your bloody Order? You think there’s anyone else who will risk their necks like we have? Honestly?”

“Regardless of your help to the Order, do you really think we can just hand Voldemort back one of his best fighters?” Granger's voice raises just a touch. Mattheo takes a step towards her.

“You’ll be singing a different fucking tune when we’re dead and you realize the next on the list is you. You’re losing the goddamn war. Biblically. You need us. Alive.”

Theo waits for Mattheo to finish his outburst before he turns his attention back to Granger. He knows where this is going.

Fuck, he knows where this is going.

“What else do you want, then?”

Theo’s hands tremble slightly. He clenches his right fist around his wand even more, the left bringing the cigarette back to his mouth quickly.

Mattheo shakes his head, turning away as he pulls a cigarette from his pocket and lights it with his want.

Granger tilts her head as she looks at Theo, her expression shifting to a tired one, as if the answer is obvious. When she speaks again, her voice is just above a whisper.

“You know who we want, Nott. It’s been almost a year.”

Theo’s nostrils flare.

“Not on the table.”

Suffice to say, the raid couldn’t have possibly gone worse.

How the Order could’ve been so prepared for them was beyond Theo.

One minute, everything seemed to be going to plan as Theo, Mattheo, Malfoy, Blaise and a few others sauntered into the safe house. Quick in and out. Nothing too complicated. The next, it was like the floor fell out from under their feet.

How did things get so royally fucked up?

Theo woke with a start, sitting up abruptly, covered in a layer of sweat as his eyes darted around the room. It took him a minute to get reoriented, and only then did he realize that he was in his own living room, laid on the couch with a blanket draped over him. Ripping the blanket off, his hands flew towards his abdomen. When he looked down, he found he was shirtless, but his skin was unharmed, save for some minor scarring. New editions to the collection. He then reached up and touched the top of his head. Nothing. Not even a scrape.

What?

Slowly, he kicked his feet over the side of the couch and stood up. The room spun for a moment, and his joints ached, but otherwise, he was completely normal.

The manor was silent. So silent that it made the hairs on the back of Theo’s neck stand up. Almost automatically, he walked across the floor, his bare feet cold against the hardwood. He tried to keep his footfall soft as he continued listening for any sort of sound. There, in the faint distance, he could hear… something. Grabbing a hoodie off the back of a chair, he slipped it over his bare torso and zipped it up halfway before making his way towards the sound.

Theo stepped into the kitchen. A flash of movement came from the other slide of the sliding door that leads to the courtyard. His hand instinctively went to grab his wand from his pocket, only for him to realize it wasn’t there. At the same moment, he also realized the person outside was Mattheo, having a smoke. His tense fingers relaxed, his arm falling back to his side.

Mattheo looked over as Theo slid the door open and walked out.

“Look who’s awake. How’re you feeling, Sleeping Beauty?”

“Who healed me?”

Mattheo placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense.

“You wound me, Nott. You don’t think I’m capable?”

Theo shook his head almost immediately.

“It’s not as… clean when you do it. And I have the scars to prove it.” He pointed to his back, which was covered in scars thanks to a nasty run in with a car, a Bombarda cast, and Mattheo’s lack of concern to learn basic field emergency spell casting.

Mattheo sighed in resignation before saying, “You’re right. It wasn’t me.”

Theo waited for Mattheo to give elaboration, and when one wasn't given, he could feel his fingers curl into fists. Though Mattheo’s face was neutral, the tension radiating off his body could be felt a kilometer away.

“What did you do?”

Mattheo took a long drag from his cigarette, blowing the smoke out through his nostrils before turning back to Theo.

“Theo…”

“What did you do, Riddle?”

Swallowing hard, Mattheo looked away from Theo.

“We got their best healer.”

Theo blinked. A hostage?

“You took someone?” He asked, voice low. “That… that wasn’t part of the plan.”

Not that things ever went to plan. And not that they hadn’t ever deviated so far left and forced them to take hostages before. But there was something about the way Mattheo couldn’t look at him that made Theo’s fingers run cold.

Mattheo shook his head as he took a seat on one of the lounge chairs. He let his head fall to his chest, as if it were too heavy to hold up anymore. “That wall fell on you. You were going to die, Theo. We needed…” He inhaled sharply before looking up again. “It was beyond us. We needed the help. We needed her.”

Theo wracked his brain. The Order’s best healer? The Order’s best healer. Why does this mean something to him?

“Who is it?”

Mattheo leaned backwards in the seat so his back laid against the chair before he pointed at Theo, as if he was preemptively defending himself.

“You’re going to thank me. You’ll be pissed. But you’re going to thank me, ultimately.”

Theo’s nose twitched.

“Mattheo… who is it?”

Mattheo nodded back towards the house before vaguely replying, “She’s upstairs, in the North wing.”

Theo’s feet didn’t move, stuck to the floor like ice. His mind was running, a plethora of questions all begging to be answered. But his mouth forgot how to work as well. For a moment, all he was able to do was stare at Mattheo, who stared back briefly before nodding towards the house again.

“Go on.” His voice was soft.

Theo’s feet kicked on again, taking him back into the house as if they were on autopilot.

Why the hell are you so nervous? You don’t even know who it is.

His wand was laying on the end table next to the staircase, which he grabbed and shoved in his pocket. His knees buckled as he walked up the stairs. Distantly, he could hear the sound of yelling and objects being thrown around. It didn’t take him long to figure out which closed door the sounds were coming from the other side of. He stood outside the black wooden door, listening. Trying to maybe discern who it was before he went in.

He could just make out the wards that had been placed on the door. Laying a hand on the knob, he was relieved to find that he was able to touch the brass of the handle. Mattheo had been known to incorrectly cast the spell so no one could get through, which had more than once sent Theo or Malfoy through a wall.

A shaky sigh pushing its way from Theo’s lungs and out of his mouth, he turned the knob and let himself inside the room.

The color drained from Theo’s face.

Standing in the middle of the room, chest heaving and anger radiating off of like a stove top, was you.

Suddenly, Theo was back at Hogwarts, standing in the Astronomy Tower. You were no longer in your casual shirt and jeans, but instead, in your Hufflepuff robes as you looked at him and told him you were leaving to join the Order.

“This war is above us, Theo. Dumbledore is dead. Harry Potter is dead. I can’t stand idly by and watch people die. I need to do something.”

“Yeah? And what about me?”

“You could come with me.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“And you know I can’t stay.”

The memory hit Theo like a train. His breath hitched in his throat.

You turned to face him, freezing in the headlights of his gaze. The way your fury faltered at the sight of him made it clear that you were having the same out of body experience that he was.

You certainly had been busy. All of the furniture in the room was broken. The night stand had been thrown against the pewter colored wall, leaving a dent in the dry wall and the wooden pieces scattered across the floor. A picture frame that Theo hung and forgot about was in ruins, the brunette girl in the picture cowering in the corner of the shredded pieces of photo paper. Feathers from the pillows littered the carpet. The mattress had been thrown off the bed frame, which was also now broken.

Though he couldn’t focus on the damage that had been done to his guest room. He was too busy staring at you with the same confounded look he’d had when he first entered the room.

Your hair was longer than he remembered it, pulled back so it was out of your face. Your features had grown with you, your cheekbones more prominent, your eyes with more bags, your cheeks with less color. There wasn’t a corner of Theo’s world that wasn’t burdened by war, and, unfortunately, that included you. His heart raced in his chest as he looked at you. He had locked the memory of you deep into the catacombs of his brain, not allowing himself to bring them out for any occasion. There wasn’t the time or need for it. This is war. When is there a moment for reminiscing on the worst day of his life?

But now there you were, standing in front of him, with a dumbfoundedly angry look on your face, casual clothes and longer hair. The flood gates were now opened, and he was overwhelmed with memories of you, running through his mind so quickly that he felt like he was spinning.

Your eyes still twinkled in the light that streamed in through the curtains.

“You tell Mattheo Riddle that he can give me back my wand and we’ll see then if he’s able to force me into this room again.”

Theo flinched.

The sound of your voice alone made him feel the need to have a complete mental breakdown. You could’ve been cursing him out or singing in German and he would still feel the overwhelming urge to curl into a ball on the floor. Even with your anger, it still felt like a sweet symphony to Theo’s ears.

He never thought he’d hear the sound again.

Hell, he never thought he’d see you again.

Realizing you had spoken and he was just staring at you like an imbecile, he cleared his throat.

“You healed me.”

Your expression shifted, an emotion crossing your face that Theo couldn’t read. Standing a little straighter, you nodded.

“I’m a healer,” You said slowly, distantly. “It’s what I do.”

He snorted. That bleeding Hufflepuff heart.

“You could’ve let me die,” He pointed out, cocking his head to the side.

You seemed to consider this briefly before saying, “In theory, yes.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Silence hung in the air between the two of you, coupled with the unmitigated tension. Theo’s hands were curled at his sides, not from anger, but to stop himself from giving into the inordinate compulsion to reach out and touch you. To prove to himself that he wasn’t dreaming or hallucinating. That you were actually in front of him. You shifted your weight to your other foot.

“I don’t think I really could’ve, even if I wanted to.”

The words unsaid in this moment would keep Theo up at night for weeks.

Your eyes trailed down his body, studying him, taking in his bare chest underneath the hoodie. He swallowed hard, his body seeming to freeze under your gaze. Maybe he should’ve changed before coming into the room. At least maybe thrown on a proper shirt. He’d never had a hostage in his home before. There was no protocol book on the proper etiquette.

Especially not when the hostage was his ex-girlfriend who’s now working on the opposite side of the war.

You let out a strangled sigh.

“You have to let me go back, Theo. They need me. No one is trained on some of the things I am.”

The shake of his head was immediate.

“You can’t even begin to comprehend what he would do if he found out Mattheo and I had you and then just let you go back,” He said in a strained yet soft voice. “I can’t. We can’t.”

Your nose twitched as you closed your eyes.

“I won’t fucking heal for him,” You declared in a low tone. “I’d rather be strung up in Godric’s Hollow to rot like all the other people he’s executed than heal for him.”

Theo tried to be rational as he considered what to do. There was a tug of war in his mind, his loyalties competing to decide the best course of action. The obvious answer was to turn you over to The Dark Lord, where you would be put on trial for the crimes he deemed you guilty of, and then punished accordingly. With the skills you hold, Theo knew that you would more than likely be put under the Imperius curse and forced to act as a healer for the Death Eaters.

Though the answer was obvious, that didn’t make it correct. Not to him or to anyone else.

Theo knew. He knew you’d rather die than breathe the same air as the Death Eaters, let alone fix their wounds and send them back out to kill your people. His head throbbed as he tried to think of the best direction to go in.

Because, in his head, letting you go was simply out of the question.

“This is a negotiation, is it not?” Granger asks. “We have something you want, you have something we want. We exchange.”

Theo shakes his head as he smashes the end of his half smoked cigarette on the top of the table.

“She’s not for trade.”

“Well, she’s what we want.”

A bead of sweat trails down the side of his face. He ignores it.

“She’s nowhere close to being worth the same as Draco Malfoy. This isn’t a fair trade.” He means it, but not in the way that he presented it to them. Nothing they could offer would make it a fair trade in Theo’s eyes. They could offer the end of the war. They could offer his freedom from the Death Eaters. They could offer endless riches, or immortality, or anything else he could possibly dream up. None of it would equate.

“Then we’ll gladly take Luna and Seamus back as well,” Granger says through clenched teeth, expression reading that her patience is wearing thin. “To make up the difference.”

Theo opens his mouth to respond, but Mattheo cuts in before he gets the chance.

“You’ll take what we fucking give you.”

Granger shoots him a dagger filled glare.

“We can no longer afford to play these games with you. You have our best healer. And we need her back.” She rolls her head before her eyes fall back on Theo. “We have been patient. We have accepted that we had nothing worth trading for her. Now we do. Malfoy’s importance to the Death Eaters is well known. Don’t patronize us by pretending we don’t have the upper hand here.”

A chill runs through Theo’s spine.

She’s right.

God dammit, she’s right.

Theo runs a hand through his messy hair, the most he’s moved since he sat down. His brain scrambles to come up with something, anything, that he can offer to remedy this. There has to be something of equal value. There has to be something he can give that would make them decide to let you stay.

“Before you try to come up with some feeble offer, know that we won’t be backing down from this,” Granger says as if she’s reading Theo’s mind. “You won’t be getting Draco Malfoy back unless we get her, regardless of what else you give. She’s the only card you have that could get him back.”

Theo’s eyes snap back to Granger, the anger boiling in his chest.

“This is a negotiation, is it not?” He repeats her words back to her. She smiles at him, but the gesture does not reach her eyes.

“Maybe negotiation is the wrong word for it.” She hums thoughtfully. “It’s more like a plea deal. Take it or leave it.”

“You’re up late.”

Theo jumped at the sound of your voice as he quickly flicked the light on.

He didn’t expect to find you in his kitchen, sitting cross legged on the island counter with the lights off. A bowl of what he could only assume was cereal was in your hands.

He glanced at the clock on the wall.

“It’s four in the morning.”

You glanced up at the clock as well, before shrugging.

“Fine, you’re up early.”

A smile tugged at the corners of Theo’s mouth.

He could feel you studying him as you brought the spoon to your mouth. A flush of warmth filled his cheeks as he made his way to the fridge, making it a point to turn away from you. Still, he knew your eyes never left him.

“You still don’t sleep much, huh?” You asked, mouth full of cereal.

He sighed as he pulled the carton of orange juice off the shelf.

“I’d say I don’t sleep at all these days.”

He popped the top of the carton before bringing it to his mouth and throwing his head back. You watched him carefully, seeming to pause your eating.

“You’re a feral one now, aren’t you?” You asked in a playful tone. “Drinking right from the carton? Who have you become, Theodore Nott?”

He laughed, the sound being so foreign to him these days, before saying, “I generally live alone, and I never host other people. No need to waste a glass, as far as I’m concerned.”

Him ignoring the last comment of yours was intentional. Despite the playfulness behind it, Theo doesn’t know how you would feel about the man he’s become, and he doesn’t want to dwell on that fact.

You continue to laugh as you shake your head.

“Mad behaviour.”

Theo eyed you.

“Says the girl sitting on the counter, in the dark, eating cereal.”

You smiled as you take another bite.

“Got me there.”

It had been almost two months since Mattheo had taken you hostage and made you Theo’s problem. In an attempt to keep peace, Theo gave you free reign of the entire manor and all of the land around it. After repairing the furniture in the guest room (multiple times, as you had to get your frustration out somehow), Theo allowed you to stay there. Before his death, Nott Sr. had created a dungeon-esque holding below the house, with cage like cells and torture weapons, but Theo had the area of the house completely closed off upon his arrival as head of estate, and he wasn’t planning to reopen it anytime soon. Besides, the thought of locking you in an actual cell made Theo physically ill.

“How’s the escape plot going?” Theo asked as he leaned against the counter adjacent from you, juice carton still in hand.

“Considering I can’t apparate because you already had anti apparation wards in place, the wards Mattheo placed that are linked to my DNA so I can’t leave the estate at all, and that bed being the most comfortable thing I’ve ever slept on…” You listed, raising a finger with every reason. “ … I’d say it’s going quite terribly.”

Theo’s eyebrows hit his hairline as he let out a surprised huff.

“Mattheo has always been quite meticulous.”

“Well, he said he was afraid you’d let me go.”

Theo’s smile faded quite quickly.

The first couple of weeks following your capture, you had made yourself scarce around the manor, mostly spending time in the North wing. Theo made it a point to stay out of your way. Not only for the sake of your anger, but because he needed to work out his own emotions about you being there. Even in this moment, looking at you in the kitchen, he still hadn’t quite worked out how the whole thing made him him.

After the first couple of weeks, you had slowly started making your way through the manor, exploring every crevice. Every nook and cranny. Theo knew it was to look for a weakness to exploit that could lead to your escape, but he didn’t comment that to you. Just let it sit in the back of his head.

With your emergence from your room also came your increased interactions with the dark haired lad. It was painful at first, just a curt nod here and there, but it slowly built up to exchanging jokes and sarcastic comments, and even as far as the two of you reading books in silence together in the library.

It was almost as if there was never a moment between the days you and him spent together at Hogwarts and now. Just cut the time apart out and sew the rest together like the war never happened.

Theo often found himself wondering if he was one of the weaknesses you were attempting to exploit.

Your comment about Mattheo believing Theo would let you go did nothing to snuff out that thought.

He tried not to think about it too much.

You watched him carefully as he took another long sip of juice from the carton.

“Have you decided what you’re going to do with me yet?”

Theo rolled his eyes, setting the juice on the black countertop next to him.

“Nope.”

He didn’t bother to ask how you knew it was even up for debate. You’d always had a knack for just knowing things. And he couldn’t imagine that his debates with Malfoy and Mattheo were as quiet as he would’ve liked them to be.

“What are you leaning towards?” You asked innocently, your eyes studying him. He bit the inside of his cheek as he considered how to answer.

“Let’s see,” He mumbled. “Malfoy thinks I should turn you in. He doesn’t see why you’re useful here, and says you’d be better suited as a healer for… them.” He decided not to say Death Eaters, but you flinched at the idea anyway. “Mattheo thinks I should keep you here.”

Your eyes didn’t leave him as you took another bite of your cereal. Theo mirrored you with the orange juice.

“But what are you leaning towards?”

“Not turning you in, that’s for damn sure.”

Your gaze pinned him, as your eyes narrow only slightly.

“So I’m stuck here then.” It was more of a statement than a question, and something about it made an ache burst through Theo’s chest. He had no idea how to respond, so he opted to say nothing, instead bringing the juice carton back to his lips. Your eyes followed him. “Theo, you’re a rational person. You know that I don’t want to be here. Why can’t you just let me go back to the Order?”

His eyes fluttered shut.

“It’s complicated.”

You set the bowl down on the counter before looking back up at him.

“Then simplify it for me.”

All he could say in a breathy whisper was your name.

He didn’t know how. He couldn’t even simplify it for himself.

It all happens at once.

Theo quickly stands, pushing the chair out from under him so quickly that it glides across the floor and into the wall.

Weasley rushes forward, his wand pointed at Theo.

Mattheo grabs Weasley by the scruff of his shirt, roughly shoving him into the wall with the tip of his wand jabbing into the ginger’s jugular. The impact of his back against the hard surface causes Weasley to drop his wand, which Mattheo swiftly kicks across the floor.

Granger puts her wand only inches from Mattheo’s head, though he doesn’t appear to notice.

Theo directs his wand to Granger.

“The difference between you and I, Weasley,” Mattheo hisses in his face. “Is that I don’t have any pathetic qualms about making a person suffer. So please. Point your wand at one of us again. We’ll see who comes out the bigger man.”

“That’s enough, Riddle!” Granger shouts, pressing her wand into Mattheo’s temple. Theo steps forward and jams his wand through her hair and into her occipital scalp.

“Drop it.”

A beat passes.

Mattheo’s face twitches.

Granger slowly lowers her hand, her jaw clenched so tight that Theo is convinced her teeth will crack.

“We all want the same outcome,” She says in a quiet voice, still glaring daggers at Mattheo.

“It’s how we get there that we can’t seem to see eye to eye on,” Theo growls.

Letting his hand drop back to his side, Theo takes a step back towards the table he had previously been occupying.

“Let him go, Mattheo.”

The curly haired man glares into Weasley’s face for a moment longer, letting his deep breath smack against the ginger’s face before he shoves him away. Theo’s eyes follow Mattheo as he walks back to his pacing area, and then they flick back to Granger. She looks incensed over what just occurred, as Weasley adjusts his shirt, embarrassment painting his cheeks pink.

Theo opts to stay standing this time.

“She’s not a part of the equation,” He says in a low tone. “We can give you the maps, Finnegan and Lovegood for Malfoy. Or we can give nothing at all.”

A draft fills the room as the wind can be heard whipping outside over the silence.

“And again, we are well aware of Draco’s importance to the Death Eater army,” Granger says in a tone that matches Theo’s. “There is no option. It’s her or nothing.”

Theo fights the urge to curse her.

“Then it’s nothing.”

The door hit the wall so hard, Theo could almost feel the drywall dent. In the moment, however, he couldn’t give less of a shit.

You whipped around to face him. The anger on your face couldn’t be missed, but neither could his. For a while, the two of you just stared at each other, speaking through daggered glares and heaving chests, as if words weren’t necessary.

It was a moment of deja vu, calling back to the first time the two of you met in what became your assigned bedroom of the house. Both times equally as tense, but for radically different reasons. And this time, all of the pieces of furniture were entirely intact.

Finally, Theo broke the silence.

“What business do you have, entering the field?”

Your nostrils flared.

“What business do you have, almost getting yourself killed?”

A breeze came in through the window, chilling the room further. As if it needed the help.

“I was handling myself fine,” He said in a low voice. “Injuries are bound to happen-“

“A pelvic fracture and an open head wound are both severe injuries,” You countered in a raised voice. “You may have felt fine in the moment but you wouldn’t have after you lost two liters of blood just from the fractured pelvis alone. You needed care.”

Theo felt like throwing things as the anger flared heavily in his chest.

“I could’ve apparated back to the manor after-“

“You would’ve splinched yourself with that severe of injuries, Theo,” You snarled, looking exasperated. “Mattheo came and got me.”

Theo made a mental note to kick the absolute shit out of Mattheo the next time he saw him.

“You could’ve said no!” He shouted. “You’re not my bloody on-call healer who gets to risk her life whenever I almost die.” The image of you in the middle of the fight, dodging multiple green casts in your wake, was burned into his retinas. Despite being safe in the Manor now, his chest was still reeling from the panic that flooded his heart and lungs when he fought to get to you.

You took a rushed step forward.

“Don’t fucking do that,” You said in a strained voice. “You don’t get to drag my arse back into your life-“

“You think I wanted this for you?” He shouted, cutting you off. “I didn’t drag you anywhere. I didn’t bring you here. I didn’t ask for this.”

You took another step towards him, more controlled this time. Theo almost took a step backwards to keep the distance.

Almost.

“But you kept me here. Why am I still fucking here, Theo?”

The words left his mouth before his brain had a chance to even consider them.

“Because you fucking left me before I was fucking done with you!”

Theo’s chest heaved, as he stared down at you. The room became painfully silent, the only sound being Theo’s breathing. You were holding your breath.

“What does that mean?”

Theo didn’t hesitate for a moment.

“You left me to join the Order. You left me behind and I went bloody maniacal. I didn’t know a person could be touch starved for a specific set of hands, but your fingers burned their prints into my skin and I can’t get them to goddamn heal. And then Mattheo dropped you on my fucking door step and it was like I was an imprisoned man who just felt the warmth of the sun for the first time in years.”

You were frozen, staring at him like a deer in headlights.

“Theo…” A breathy whisper.

Theo shook his head, feeling a mix of anger and desperation in his head and heart. When he spoke, his voice was more calm this time, taking a low tone.

“If love were a language then the only one I know how to speak is the one we wrote together. I couldn’t lose you again. I can’t lose you again.”

It was unclear who moved first. Maybe Theo. Maybe you. Maybe both. But somehow, the distance between the two of you closed, and Theo’s mouth was crashing against yours.

His left hand was on the small of your back, the other on the back of your head. His fingers weaved through your hair with a firm grip, as if to keep you from pulling away. Your hands were on his cheeks, lightly cradling his head between your palms as your fingertips teased the beginnings of his hairline.

“I love you,” He said in a silent voice, his lips still pressed against yours in the desperate kiss. “I never stopped.”

“I love you too.” Your words came without a sliver of hesitation.

His tongue parted your lips, as your fingers moved to the back of his head. A groan forced its way up his throat. Your nails against his scalp drove him insane. It always had. Theo knew you knew that well.

And with that, he pushed you onto the bed.

“So…”

Theo closes his eyes at the sound of Mattheo’s voice. His steps are slow as they walk up the pathway of Nott Manor. In an effort to prolong the inevitable, Theo pulls a cigarette from his pocket, setting it between his lips before lighting it with his wand.

“We don’t have a choice, do we?”

Theo looks up at the sky as he blows a plume of smoke upwards to join the clouds. He can’t look at Mattheo.

“No,” He finally says. “We don’t.”

Mattheo pulls a smoke of his own out, lighting it before taking a deep inhale. The only sounds in the air are the wind and his exhale.

“What if we just stopped aiding them?” He suggested after a beat too long of silence. “They’re losing. They need the information we’re feeding them. A few weeks without it would have them feeding out of our palms.”

Theo considers this as he plops down on the top step leading onto the porch. The cold from the wood seeps through his trousers.

Not that his body held any warmth to begin with. Not since he walked out of that bar.

“We don’t have a few weeks.”

Another cloud fills the air.

“The Dark Lord wants Malfoy back now.”

Theo’s heart already feels hollow as he thinks about what he is getting ready to do.

Mattheo paces the cobblestone pathway, running his fingers through his curls as he takes another long drag of his cigarette.

“There has to be a way.”

Theo studies his friend. There’s very few people Mattheo holds loyalty to. The Order wasn’t on the list, despite the way they were risking everything to help them. The other Death Eaters didn’t have it. Hell, even his own father only held enough of Mattheo’s loyalty to keep him alive. Not enough for it to matter.

But Mattheo, from the moment they met until this moment in front of Nott Manor, was always fiercely loyal to Theo. And the way he desperately tries to come up with a solution to fix this for Theo pulls at his heart.

Because his loyalty to Theo also extends to you. When Theo told Mattheo that he was planning to betray Voldemort’s army in an effort to end the war and keep you with him, Mattheo wasted no time in joining him. No questions asked.

Mattheo was willing to risk his head to keep you safe if that was what Theo needed. And in this moment, Theo knew he didn’t thank his friend enough.

His hands shake slightly as he brings the cigarette back to his mouth.

“I don’t think there is.”

He doesn’t want to sound as defeated as he does. But as his mind runs a million kilometers a second, it still comes up short on a way of getting out of this.

Mattheo shakes his head angrily.

“This is bullshit.”

And Theo says nothing, his gaze fixed on the ground as he finishes his cigarette, and plans what he’s going to say once he goes inside.

Oh Merlin, do I really have to leave?

Theo sat on the edge of his bed, staring down at your sleeping form. Your back was facing him, the blanket low enough to show the bare skin of your upper torso.

He swallowed hard.

Five minutes. Just another five minutes.

But he knew he wouldn’t stop at five.

He was in his Death Eater robes, dressed to leave. This meeting wasn’t one he could afford to miss, and yet, watching you sleep in his bed was enough to make him at least consider it.

Reaching over, he traced the lines of your right scapula, moving down to the left, feeling your smooth skin and shoulder blades beneath his fingertips. Your body rose and fell with every breath you took, but you did not stir at his touch. He brushed your hair down to the side so it all fell concurrently onto the sheets.

Every time he tried to stand, his legs would defy him.

Bloody hell, this is impossible, he thought to himself.

The temptation to kiss you was strong, but he resisted. He didn’t want to wake you, because then you would know he was leaving, and then you’d ask questions. One’s he didn’t yet want to offer up the answers to.

You didn’t know what he was about to do.

The door creaked open, making Theo jump. Mattheo stood at the threshold, also in his robes. His eyes flitted between his friend and you, before they settled on Theo again. All he did was nod, a gesture that Theo returned, before turning and leaving once again.

A sigh forcing its way out of his lungs, Theo stood up from the bed. Before walking out the door, he threw one last fleeting glance your way.

This better fucking work.

Once the door to his bedroom was shut, Theo walked through the manor in a flash, before finding Mattheo standing in the front garden. His friend gave him a look, and it was not lost on Theo the anxiety in his expression.

“Are you sure about this?”

Mattheo’s words hung in the air, swirling around above them with the wind. Theo slowly let his head fall backwards as he stared at the sky. For once in his life, his thoughts weren’t racing. He was confident in this decision. He had never been more confident about anything.

“I’m sure.”

No more words were said.

Grabbing Mattheo’s forearm, the two men apparated. When they reappeared, it was in an empty warehouse in Sussex. Windows lined the walls just a meter or so below the ceiling. The walls themselves were painted an off white colour that left them looking dirty, with hand prints and muck dusting the paint. It felt too big, in Theo’s opinion. If this were to become a regular thing, they’d need something smaller. With seats, preferably.

The two got to work, placing wards and disillusionment charms everywhere they could. Before they knew it, a whole hour had passed, and they were just finishing up.

“You know I hate this right?” Mattheo asked as they regrouped in the center of the giant room. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Not what we’re doing necessarily but this meeting?”

Theo had to fight the urge to laugh.

“You think I like this any more than you do?”

Mattheo shook his head as he looked around the warehouse, taking in the metal beams that lined the ceiling.

Theo took the moment of quiet to get his thoughts in order. Ever since he sent that damn letter, he had dreaded this moment. And now it was here, and though he had spent countless hours stewing and preparing, right now, he felt completely naked and defenseless.

A sensation filled the air. Theo looked over at the same time that Mattheo did. The door creaked open, the sound echoing off the walls and around the air, before Hermione Granger, followed by Ron Weasley, the Weasley twins, Dean Thomas, Ginny Weasley, another Weasley they couldn’t place, and the blonde Triwizard Tournament champion from fourth year who Theo, for the life of him, could not remember the name of.

“All Gryffindors, mostly Weasels,” Mattheo mumbled under his breath. “Too much bloody red around here.”

Theo fought the impulse to laugh.

The crowd of Order members approached them, all looking apprehensive. Granger stepped forward, her eyes jumping between the two of them.

“Nott.” When her eyes bounced back to Mattheo, the disdain became more apparent. When she spoke again, she spat the word out. “Riddle.”

Mattheo gritted his teeth as Theo took a step forward, saving them the risk of what would happen if Mattheo were the next to speak.

“Granger.”

He debated on greeting the others, but decided against it. There simply wasn’t time for pleasantries. Besides, Theo didn’t particularly want to be polite to them. And he knew that Mattheo wanted nothing more than to raze the whole warehouse just because he saw that familiar flash of ginger hair one time, let alone several. So it was probably best to get right to the point.

“What’s this about?” The unfamiliar Weasley called out.

It was hard for Theo not to grow annoyed. The amount of people in the building had him feeling overwhelmed, though he couldn’t exactly blame him. How else should they have responded? It could’ve been a trap, for all they knew.

The moment Theo reached into his back pocket, a swarm of wands were pointing in his direction. In his periphery, he could see Mattheo’s fists clench. though he was grateful that his friend didn’t immediately start spitting off hexes and Unforgivables. Theo froze more out of politeness than fear, then slowed his movements down. With the same speed as a snail, he pulled out a couple of scrolls, tossing it on the floor halfway between where he stood and where she stood. The wands all moved to point at the scroll in the same way they would point at a bomb.

“Those are plans for upcoming raids on your safe houses,” Theo explained. “Now you can be better prepared.”

The reaction was comical. At least, to Theo, it was.

Granger stared at the scrolls, her mouth agape. Ron and Ginny kept their wands pointed at it in a way that suggested they were convinced it was anything but a scroll. The twins backed away from it entirely. Dean Thomas stared not at the scroll, but at Mattheo specifically, confusion painting his expression. The unfamiliar Weasley with the scars on his face jumped away when Theo threw the scroll, and had not moved since. And the blonde looked like she wanted to approach it, but was too afraid to let her feet move.

Granger was the first to speak.

“Why should we trust you?”

A draft filled the room.

“Trust us or don’t,” Mattheo quipped. “You’re losing. You’ve been losing. Pathetically. We’re guaranteeing you a win right now. Whether you decide to take that chance is up to you.”

The silence was deafening as the members of the Order all exchanged looks, looking absolutely flabbergasted by this turn of events. It was clear they were trying to have a conversation through their facial expressions. Every muscle in Theo’s body tensed as he waited for their reaction.

This has to work, He thought to himself.

This will work.

“What do you get out of this?”

Granger’s words hung in the hair, and though the question was for the both of them, her eyes were pointedly trained on Mattheo. When the two Death Eaters remained silent, she continued.

“You’re betraying your families. Your fathers. What could you possibly have to gain, besides maybe a pardon from execution if we win?” She sneers. “And even that isn’t guaranteed.”

Visions of you lying in his bed, only covered by the duvet cover, overtook Theo’s head. He found himself wondering if you’d woken up yet. If you’d eaten. If you’d slept well. If you’d realised he’d left. The lump in his throat felt like a bolder when he swallowed it down. His fingertips burned with the feeling of your bare skin underneath them.

Out of the corner of his eye, Theo sees Mattheo glance over at him.

This is, after all, Theo’s doing. So it’s his question to answer.

“Family isn’t everything,” Theo said in a low tone. “And some people are worth yielding for.”

Rise.

Fall.

Rise.

Fall.

It takes Theo a full half hour before he finally finds you in the manor. Here you are, curled up on the couch in the library with one of his robes covering you like a blanket. Your back faces him as your face is nuzzled against the fabric of the back of the couch.

Deja vu hits him hard.

Instead of waking you, Theo sits on the ottoman beside you and counts the amount of breaths you take. At the moment, he’s up to about sixty since he started. It’s easier on his heart to sit in the silence, only filled with your quiet snores.

It’s easier for his heart to handle than what it knows he has to do.

But he knows that he’s only prolonging the inevitable.

Letting out a deep sigh, Theo reaches over and places his hand on your shoulder, gently shaking you awake.

“Hey,” He says in a low voice in an attempt to not startle you. “It’s me. Wake up.”

Your head springs upward, looking around at the back of the couch before you roll over to face Theo. The way your eyes light up at the sight of him makes his heart ache in a way he’ll never be able to describe. It’s like he misses you before you’ve even left.

A soft yawn takes over your face for just a brief moment, and is quickly replaced with a tired smile.

“How’d it go?”

Theo bites down on the inside of his cheek so hard that he can taste blood.

I can’t do this.

You have to do this.

“Not great.”

The smile fades from your face. As quickly as your still waking up body allows, you sit up, rolling over to face him entirely. Theo sits up straight as you pause, watching as the wheels turn in your head to process what he had said.

“What happened?” Your voice is so small, and something about it gives Theo the impression that you already know where this conversation is about to go. He sighs heavily. The pain in his upper back makes it feel like he has the entire world on his shoulders.

“They wouldn’t return Malfoy to us,” He explains. In an effort to hide the shake in his voice, he speaks slowly. “They… they had specific conditions for his release.”

The hush blanketing the room is only pacified by the pounding in Theo’s ears.

If there is one thing about you that Theo knows deeply, it’s that you can’t keep your emotions off your face. So it’s to his great dismay that he watches your expression shift from confusion, to thoughtful, to realisation.

“They want me, don’t they?”

The words feel like a bullet each, piercing through Theo’s chest and implanting straight into his heart.

I can’t bloody do this.

“Yes.”

Suddenly, the quiet that overtakes the room is less welcome as that one single word hangs over the two of you like a storm cloud threatening a downpour. The way Theo’s mind runs a million kilometers a second makes it so deafening. He can see the conflict on your face as you consider what needs to be done. The downward cast of your sleep stained eyes and the way you curl your lip in thought makes him want to burn the entire Order to the ground so he doesn’t have to even consider losing you.

He sucks in through his nose as the hand on his knee clenches tightly into a fist.

When your eyes drift back up to meet his, matching resolve in your expression, Theo has to swallow down the urge to cry.

“When?”

His nails dig into his palm.

“Mattheo’s going to take you once you’re ready.”

A frown crosses over your face.

“You're not going?”

Theo can’t recall another time in his life where he’s felt as broken as he does now, looking into your sad stricken and confused eyes.

He’s losing you again.

“I can’t.” He swallows the lump in his throat that makes his words come out choked. “I… I wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

He lets the rest of his thoughts remain left unsaid. That he would kill them before they could even leave the area with you. That he’d kill every last one of them for taking the only good thing he’d had during this god forsaken war. The entire reason he had broken his loyalties to the Dark Lord in an attempt to put it to an end.

And now, he has to watch you leave him.

Again.

Anguish and surprise conflict your face, making him take your hand in his and hold it tightly.

“I’ll figure it out, okay?” The desperation in his voice is so palpable that you can feel it bleeding onto the skin of your fingertips. Theo’s eyes never leave yours. “I’ll finish this. For you. For us.”

You fill the spaces between his fingers with your own.

You haven’t even left yet, but Theo begins to dread the ghost of your touch that will be left behind once you are. It’s a feeling he knows too intimately.

“What if we lose?” You ask him in a soft whisper. “Or what if one of us doesn’t make it?”

The air leaves Theo’s lungs, evaporating from the heat of your words.

He wants to dig a bunker and hide you in it, keeping you far away from the sins of the war and the pain of ever leaving his side. He wants to blow up the world and watch from space with you on his arm. He wants to do anything, literally anything that would take away the hurt in your eyes.

Images of the many ways he wishes to kill the Dark Lord and end this devastation flash through his mind.

“I need you to hear me when I say this,” Theo says in a slow tone. “I will do whatever it takes to ensure my return to you. Even if that means I have to blow through the gates of hell myself and crawl out of my grave. Make no bloody mistake. I will come back for you.”

#theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fanfiction #theo nott fanfiction #golden trio era #golden trio era fanfiction #.txt

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jazeswhbhaven · 2 months

Text

Just Another Day in Hades...(Requiem of the Survivors Event React III)

Henlo again, third post time! Make sure you check out the previous parts before continuing! ->Part 1 -> ->Part 2->

Good to go? Let's finish this~

So we're back and this is final part to my react post!! It's mostly the damn image limit that kills me. Let me have 50 images per post ugh. Anywayssss

WOMP I spelt his name wrong in another post like all the way wrong. It's bad enough Orias couldn't even remember his name lmao

I'm crying because level with me... I read his name because of the typo as "Zaddy" instead of Zadkie Sure. I mean I'll call him Zaddy ᕕ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )ᕗ (btw this is a different way of calling someone "Daddy" during sex) Now you know your admin was being horny for another angel again. I am never leaving the streets at this point and Dre has his eyes on me ready to have some words. m o v i n g o n n nn

So Orias is hyping up the angel trying to get him ready for when leviathan gets over to him. they see him from afar and have their little talk, and Zadkiel is nervous asf (as he should be) but Orias is like "you're fine :D" all while he's over there slobbering over Levi's soul again.

See. Look at him. Just confident. Also this part I'm just gonna hurry up and paraphrase so "Levi" walks up to Orias and the angel and after the two of them stare at each other BAM Orias tells the angels to attack "Levi" immediately.

Looks like they got him right???

W R O N G

After Orias ripped through "Levi's" chest and ate the orb, it didn't taste at all what he expected, and...it had the opposite affect of what he thought it would too.

Won't you look at that, Orias wasn't the only one who fucking came in with a failsafe key sort of speak. SO remember back when I said Zadkiel was staring at Levi??? Well he knew who it was because it wasn't really Levi at all but an old colleague of his named Ose that was disguised by the real Levi who only half trusted Orias's note. And as I suspected, Levi was too smart for that and if we remember that he and orias are the ones that can lie. so both parties threw everyone for a loop.

Leviathan played his cards right and he won. Foras witnessed such a thing before his eyes knowing he was probs gonna win anyway lol

And omfg how cheeky, Levi also just wanted to know what would happen if Orias swallowed the soul omg. Lol this is wild. So in short honestly, Zadkiel gave up, seems that he was under Gabriel since he said his name as his last words and the Leviathan monster pretty much swallowed everyone up. It nearly goes for Orias but Levi stops it.

Yes, even after all this bullshit, Levi sticks to his original promise that he wasn't going to do anything to Orias. In fact, he even has the monster spit out a few souls for Orias to eat.

Now see here, this whole "omg being over 21 means your so old now wow" joke is tiring because no one in their 20s looks like Orias who I assume looks like a wrinkled fucking peach under there and his hair is kinda greyed out too? which I mean I've heard of that happening but come on. lol

otherwise though it comes to a conclusion that Orias was pissed off that he was tricked even though he's the one that tricked Levi in the first place

I can't either Foras. I really can't. Orias needs the timeout chair if he's gonna act like this because omg it's almost like Levi is gentle parenting him so he can act better but I mean technically none of this is a good example of gentle parenting lol But also, Orias has a new noose on his neck and if I'm reading the room correctly, I think Levi intends on using it in it future because of how he says "your life belongs to me" and that it's not like the old one.

Orias is on a tight leash now, Levi's promise still hasn't changed, and our nobles learned more about him and us too.

CONCLUSION So for this event I give it a 9/10. One point off because Orias is being a little brat which kinda came off to me as in his big age, he was still acting like a child. Like yes, give him some grace because he was at that farm with Levi and had horrible stuff done to him and especially one that causes aging to where he may even die in another year or so and he's addicted to angel souls now and it makes him want more and more. I'm pretty sure I'm forgetting to highlight something...but I'mma be honest I'm running off fumes and I haven't slept at all SO if I do remember I'll just edit it in here. But but I hope you all enjoyed the heavy lore again, I really appreciate this that they're doing for the story because it's starting to kind of align with the main story kindish? And we get to see glimpses of how the devils are without MC around so I'm getting my piece of slice of life demon pie.

NOW though with the event done. I'm sure the next one crossing my fingers will be a Lucifer-centered one. maybe. Because they have told us before chapter updates would be every three months or so so that's a lot of waiting that I'm glad for because that means more time to beef up cards, unlock holy board stories, farm for materials. The best time for a f2p peep. btw these advanced candies are gonna fucking be the end of me, it's almost like I need to ONLY nab those during events because they get you at the end with those.

As always appreciate you all for reading my stuff, after I sleep today I'll get back to work on those requests again T^T byeee~ -your lovely admin ♥( ˆ⌣ ˆԅ)

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb leviathan #whb hades bois 💜#whb spoilers #whb event #whb orias #there was a lot of lore in here #team no sleep tho #zaddy come to me #lmao

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calypso707 · 4 months

Note

Hey hey could I maybe request gn!Changeling Tav? I was so disappointed I couldn’t play one in the game lololol

I think it's a good idea, I was inspired by the mirror scene with Astarion when I wrote it! Enjoy! ♥♥

OS - Astarion x Gn changeling reader : I see you.

You were a changeling, a very rare creature, of which there were very few in all of Faêrun. The few that survived became monsters or were used against their will as cunning spies, political envoys or assassins. Your past had constantly been punctuated by abuse, manipulation, torture and experiments of all kinds. You had done things that still haunt you today, under the yoke of evil masters. Until you were kidnapped by mind flayers during one of your missions. These creatures had used you and implanted a tadpole in your brain so that you could become one of them.

Luck was never on your side. That's what you thought until the Githyanki warriors attacked the ship you were on. You had miraculously survived the crash of their nautiloid, you hadn't yet turned into a purple being full of tentacles and you had made some very strange allies. In the end, now that you think about it, everything that had happened to you wasn't so bad - you'd been able to escape your twisted past. Of course, there were a few drawbacks, such as the friend who had made your brain his cosy nest and the fact that you were constantly in danger. But you preferred this new life, surrounded by loyal allies.

At first, they were sceptical about the idea of having a shapeshifter around, but your ability had proved very useful on several occasions. You were able to use it to manipulate and trick your enemies, something you knew how to do so well. But there was no point in fooling yourself, your past was going to catch up with you, one way or another. Either way, you didn't want to think about it now. You wanted some peace. You took a few minutes to wash yourself in the river, to get rid of the smell of blood and goblins that was sticking to your skin. You sat by the campfire to warm up, as the night air was particularly cool this evening. You continued to blot your hair with a clean cloth, your gaze lost in the ballet of flames before your eyes. It was quite late, and everyone had gone back to their usual activities: Shadowheart was meditating, Lae'zel was sharpening her blade to better slice through her enemies, Wyll was enjoying a fine wine, Gayle was practising his magic, and Karlach was lying on her straw mattress admiring the stars.

Your gaze lingered on Scratch, who was running around the camp with a bone in his mouth. You smiled at the animal's carefree attitude: he had lost his master but had found another home, and he seemed to enjoy it. He walked past Astarion's tent who was standing with his back to you, you could just see that he had a mirror in his hand. It was the first time you'd seen him with anything other than an old manuscript in his hands. A special bond had developed between you thanks to a common thread: your crooked past. You hadn't told him very much about your life before though. You were similar, two beings broken by their master. The only difference between you was perhaps his appetite for blood. You finally got up and approached him, curiously.

"Are you looking at something?" questioned the vampire.

"How did you know I was here?"

"Another disadvantage of my condition, the lack of reflection."

"Do you miss it? Seeing your face?" you questioned. And what a question, of course he must miss it. You were about to add something but Astarion answered anyway.

"Do I miss looking at my reflection out of sheer vanity? Of course I miss it. I haven't seen my new face since my eyes turned red and I grew fangs."

"What colour were they before?" you asked.

"I.. I don't know. I can't remember. My face is just a dark shape in my past now. Another thing I've lost." He spat before throwing the mirror to the ground, shattering it.

When the object hit the floor, you flinched slightly. You felt guilty for having brought back painful memories. You wanted to make up for it. You looked at him for a long time, squinted your eyes and took a step towards him. You learnt the contours of his ivory face by heart, the smallest detail to engrave it forever in your memory. You scrutinised his carmine eyes, which had the power to pierce any being, the slight wrinkles in the corners of his eyes that became more obvious when he smiled, laughed or got angry. His light hair that fell gracefully around his pointed ears, in pretty curls. His lips, slightly pink, on which you had placed countless kisses.

"What?" said Astarion, not understanding why you were watching him like that.

"I see you." you replied, looking at him.

"And tell me, what exactly do you see?"

"I'll show you," you said simply. "Close your eyes"

"What?"

"Shut up and close your eyes," you sighed.

Astarion looked at you, hesitant at first before finally closing his eyes. You didn't like it when your companions watched you transform, because it wasn't pleasant to watch in the first place, and on top of that, it was painful for you to change shape. You could feel your bones growing, your skin stretching, you could feel all the changes taking place in your body. But you were prepared to endure this discomfort to give Astarion comfort. And so you took on his appearance. You finally cleared your throat to get the vampire's attention, and he finally opened his eyes. He seemed surprised at first, deeply surprised and disturbed by what he had in front of him. His exact copy. He was so confused that he didn't know how to react.

"It's… Is it me?" said the former magistrate at last. "Is that what you see, every day?"

"Yes."

Astarion was examining you meticulously and he finally approached you, examining every detail of your face. Or rather his face. You could see the pain in his eyes, but also the gratitude. He was recapturing something he'd lost two centuries ago, seeing himself again for the first time. You could feel that your power was going to dissipate very soon due to fatigue, but you wanted to try and hold on. For his sake. He deserved it. He raised his hand to touch the white curls on your head but finally pulled back after a few long seconds and turned his head away, looking… So vulnerable. You shook your head to dispel your power and regain your appearance, and you came to regret your action.

"I'm sorry. That was inappropriate, maybe I shouldn't have…"

"No, no. It was a nice gift you gave me," Astarion said finally. "It simply reminded me of what I really am, a miserable spawn."

You could hear the pain in his voice and you moved closer, grabbing his face between your hands so that he would look at you, which he finally did. He wasn't a miserable spawn, he was a prisoner of his twisted past, he was still suffering from the abuses he had experienced, but he was more than just a spawn. He was an ally, a friend, a lover, and you wanted to cherish and spoil him until your heart stopped beating. You wanted him to see himself as you saw him.

"You are much more than what Cazador made you. You don't have to pay the price for your past, you're free now." you say, without taking your eyes off him. "You are Astarion, amateur of art, literature and old brandy. You are quick-witted, mischievous and impertinent, eloquent and incredibly charming. All these things define you more than your red eyes and fangs. And I'd like you to know how grateful I am to have you by my side."

Astarion looked at you, astonished by your words. He had let his guard down, in front of you, once again. He had allowed himself to do it, and every time you saw him like that, so vulnerable, your heart was writhing in your chest with pain. He was good at hiding his feelings, but with you he showed himself as he really was. A deeply broken soul trying to forget the weight of his past. The vampire wrapped his hand around your wrist, smiling slightly.

"I think I can live without mirrors. Besides, seeing yourself through someone else's eyes isn't so bad." replied Astarion. "Seeing myself through your eyes is enough for me"

_______________________________________________

Thank you for reading it, feel free to check out my other writings on Astarion! ♥︎♥︎

Astarion x gn reader : On your skin (pt 1)

Astarion x gn reader : A thousand thanks

Astarion x gn reader : No place for love

Fic : Astarion x Fem! bard Tav : Fruit of the Poisonned Tree

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tenko-thinks · 9 months

Note

Hi! My birthday was a few days ago and I was sick and miserable (still am or I'd try to write things myself 😭) and didn't really get to celebrate it. I also unfortunately remembered none of my S/Os remembered my birthday without having to be reminded and it made me depressed. May I ask how Douma and Gyutaro would celebrate reader's birthday please? I would ask for the clones, but I can do that in another one like before ><;;

Aw I'm sorry to hear that !! I'm more than happy to do something to make you feel at least a lil better !! And of course you can send the clones for a follow up ♡

Celebrating Your Birthday

cws : babygirl it's all rainbows and kittens here, gn!reader

Ft : Douma and Gyutaro

Douma

It's your birthday? Oh joyous day !!

Douma is very much the type to wake you up the moment the moon rises on the day of your birth. He's got several plans ! He even canceled sermon for you!

First thing first is dressing you in the fanciest garments he could get you. Claiming it to be your first gift.

The second is a large feast prepared by the best chefs the cult has to offer! He sits across from you to watch as you eat. He can't eat himself but seeing you light up because it's all your favorites? That is satisfactory enough.

He takes you to the lotus gardens of paradise, sits you on a bench and tells you to watch.

Using his blood demon art he effectively puts on a theatre performance, lamenting he couldn't take you to a real show due to time never being in his favor. But he put this together to emulate it! Even having cultists play traditional music to accompany it.

You think that's it when he sits beside you, staring up at the sky. And when he says nothing you follow his gaze.

He had set up a fireworks show in your honor. Reaching to hold your hand for it.

If you cry ? Just lean on him. He will be there for you,

Gyutaro

Gyutaro isn't very good at being sentimental, but he knows what matters to you. And he'll do his best to show you he cares in ways you may not expect.

He wakes you up with breakfast in bed. Made by one of the kyogoku girls. Ordered by ume. With Gyutaro requesting your favorites.

He spends the day with you, separated from his sister. And presents a gift of jewelry ( that he absolutely stole. ) to you! Stray cat method of love.

Gyu isn't someone who will take you out on the town like Douma. Because of how he looks. He doesn't want the attention stolen from you because he's hideous.

So if you want to go out, he'll have ume take you. Telling her to buy whatever you might ask for. Even if she complains.

But if you're fine spending the entirety of the day with him? He won't admit to being flustered about it. Wasting something so special as your time on him..

So you sit and enjoy his company for the day, eventually falling asleep beside him while he combs his fingers through your hair.

#kimetsu no yaiba #kny #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny x reader #douma x reader #douma #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro #kny gyutaro #kny douma

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thebigsl33p · 5 months

Text

A Safe Pair of Hands

Aleksander Morozova X Reader (can be read as platonic or romantic. Neutral grisha Fem!reader)

Winter in Ravka comes fast. And it stays. It blankets the ground in thick white snow, freezes the soil and puts frost on window panes. The only time it seems to stop snowing in the city is the early morning, just before the sun properly rises, there is always a slight reprieve in the falling snow.

That's when he wakes. Like clockwork, every winter morning. He finds the fire from the night before has long died in the hearth, and the Palace floors are cold beneath his feet, even as he cleans himself and pulls on his dark Kefta and heavy boots in preparation for the day ahead.

By the time the rest of the city wakes, he's already working, his hands meticulously writing letters and commands with a face like stone.

As the early morning sun rises the city swells with sound and smells, of mulled wines and drinking chocolate, sweet nuts and cinnamon. On one street you can hear both the sounds of celebratory folk songs and the wails of an ill child. In the streets and the homes people bundle up as well as they can, food turns from being light and easy to being warm and hearty.

And still, he works.

That is until, his study door is pushed open in a familiar creak and a H/C haired woman walks in with a lazy grin. She's soft and smiling, her E/C eyes are so very alive with a blatant love for life.

"Y/N," The Darkling says her name softly, setting down his quill as she enters the room. She's holding two cups of hot chocolate, one for herself and one inevitably for him. She sets it down on his desk and comes to stand behind him, peering over his shoulder at his work, "Thank you," he uttered.

"No problem." She says nonchalantly, and she leans forward, her fingers gently pulling a map out from underneath the letter he's writing, "Working already? it's barely 8:30, Aleks." she says with a fond, exasperated, sigh.

He responds with his own amused huff, "You know how it is, Y/N." He says simply, running a hand through his dark hair - pushing it off his face in doing so. He feels the chair he's sitting in shift slightly as she rests her arms on the back of it - the only person who could get away with such a thing.

"You working all day?" She inquires, eyebrows raising slightly as she sips her drink.

"Perhaps." His hands reach for his own cup, barely feeling the warmth of the mug for his thick leather gloves, "Depends, really." He says.

"On what?" She tilted her head around to get a better look at him, her eyebrows narrowing in playful inquisition.

He knew her well. Knew, she only ever asked if he was working all day, when she wanted to do something. Something with him, inevitably.

"Depends what it is you want to drag me into now," He said, in mock annoyance, but mostly amusement.

"Oh, cmon it's a lovely day Aleksand-"

"It's snowing."

"A lovely winter's day, then." She folds her arms, leaning down to his ear to teasingly whisper, in a persuasive sing-song lilt, "Os Alta will be a wonder to see in the cold. And you don't get out enough."

"We'll both be stared at like art exhibitions," he answered, gruff and dryly, "Everything we do-"

"Not in the market we won't." she challenged, "Oh, come on Aleksander. One winter market. It'll be good fun, promise."

And that's how he ended up here, his arm linked with hers as they walked through the annual Winter Market. His boots crunched the snow beneath them, his large dark cloak creating a striking figure of darkness in a crowd of bright festive colours. And her beside him, in her (Grisha Colour) Kefta, and her cloak. Without thinking much about it he tucks the hand around his arm into the crook of it and murmurs, half-scoldingly, "I told you to bring your gloves."

She simply hums a soft, half-listening, "Yeah." She's so distracted by the market, the foods, the people, the jewellery, the clothes, the music. It's something she's seen all her life, every winter, but it takes her breath away nonetheless.

"Y/N," he huffs, shaking his head in mock sternness and disappointment.

"What?!" She laughs, turning to face him with a smile, "I'm sorry. I forgot, okay? Besides, I'll be fine. I'll survive." She says with a grin.

He rolls his eyes and scoffs, but absentmindedly caresses her hands in a slight attempt to keep her warm... or warmer than she is.

As the day progresses, he finds himself being dragged to various stalls and stands, Y/N already with coin in her hand to pay for whatever sweet treat she's decided they'll share. ...And for once, he lets her.

And so, they walk back to the Little Palace, arm in arm, with a paper bag of sugared nuts between them, having spent the day snacking on various hot chocolates and mulled wines, reviewing different wrapping papers and potential gifts, trying different meats, vegetables and cheeses with soft laughter as the snow fell upon them.

And now as the sun sets early, they walk back. Her hand is still tucked into the warm crook of his arm, and they're laughing together about something or other. In that moment, he's glad the street is empty. No guards, no nobles, no royals or other Grisha. It's just her and him, and for once, in the snow and in the soft winter dusk, he can simply exist as her Aleksander. Her Sasha.

He knows, that when they get back to the Little Palace, she'll kick off her snow covered boots by his study door - despite his insistence she doesn't need to - and she'll enter his study. She'll throw a few extra logs into the hearth as he takes off his Kefta and hangs it up, before they both take their places on the loveseat by the fireplace.

She laughs at something he says, the snowflakes catching on her eyelashes, in her hair, on her nose. For a moment, he allows himself to feel sentimental - a sudden rush of relief and appreciation for human connection. He leans down, and as her eyes and nose wrinkle in her laughter, he presses a soft kiss to her cheek.

it catches her slightly, and she finishes her laughter with a soft content sigh, gives his arm a slight squeeze, and they continue their winter walk home.

A/N: HI I HAVEN'T WRITTEN IN SO LONG!! finally got a new laptop so I am working today, working. Working hard so I can please you. (I'm really sorry if you don't know what this is)

#the darkling X reader #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone X reader #Aleksander Morozova X reader #Aleksander X reader #General kirigan X reader #Kirigan X reader

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unrequitedloveletter · 1 year

Note

so, it’s probably nothing, but it’s been on my mind sometime and I can’t let it go- hug prompts! The link for those is here, and again, you can send in as many combinations as you want!

nikolai lantsov with 13, 14, and 16??

Well Enough- N.L x gn! reader

this was a blast to write so thank you so much for sending this in! Sorry that your requests are coming out so late, I've just been staying for upwards of twelve hours before I go to sleep lately and twelve hours of awakeness does not bode well for my motivation whatsoever lol.

the prompts you requested: “you almost died” hugs, “you saved my life” hugs, and reunion hugs

fic type- angst with a fluffy ending

Warnings- mentions of bombs, mentions of war, stab wounds, bruises, smoke and soot inhalation, pain from pinkie toe to shoulder

You could barely keep your eyes pinned to one spot as you moved through the crowd. A part of you had the sense to be amazed at the fact that you still stood, the fact that you’d managed to survive several bombs from the Fjerdans in the city of Os Alta, an attack made as the war worsened and tensions rose.

You were standing, even if putting too much weight on your right leg made it go numb for a split second before pain jolted from the tip of your pinkie toe all the way through to the top of your shoulder.

You were standing, a knife clutched in your left hand, even if there was a wound on your shoulder and two more over your ribcage.

You were standing, even if you had bruises on your face, smoke and soot in your lungs.

You were standing. You’d made it out and you’d done so with a blade in your hand and a heart made of steel thumping away in your chest.

You’d lost Nikolai in the thick of it, though. A couple of moves and the correct wielding of the knives you’d always carried on your person had saved Nikolais life as Fjerdan soldiers stormed through the city before the bombs went off, but you’d lost Nikolai in the seconds after he’d pressed a kiss to your lips and you’d exchanged I love yous.

Nikolai could’ve been killed in the aftermath of the bombing, and as your eyes frantically searched the crowd, the idea that you could’ve lost the man you held so dearly was terrifying.

You walked until your feet hurt, asking around and beginning to debate saying a prayer as you hoped to find Nikolai, Zoya, Genya, or the twins. You would’ve given anything, absolutely anything to see Tolya in the crowd, sticking out in the manner of a sore thumb because where Tolya was, Nikolai was never more then a foot or two away.

You jumped, scream falling from your lips as you felt a hand grasp your shoulder. You turned around to see Tolyas face, relieved grin spreading to his lips and joy flooding his gaze.

You found yourself relieved to see him, too. He’d been alive and as much as Nikolai mattered to you, Tolya had been one of your closest friends since the two of you were on Sturmhonds crew, playing cards and winning each others rum rations. He was alive and you hadn’t lost one of your best friends, and in the end, that was all that mattered in that particular moment.

He took a step to the side and let you go, and your heart stopped for a moment before it set off at a racing pace with the sight of Nikolai Lantsov, the man whom you would’ve sacrificed yourself for a thousand times over, the love of your life, the man who you woke up next to every morning and the one next to whom you fell asleep every night.

He looked better than you did, a saber clutched in one hand, soot covering some of his brow and parts of the golden blond of his hair. He had no stab wounds but a couple of cuts on his face and some bruising on his jaw.

He said nothing before he pulled you into a hug. You let him, hugging back just as tightly, if not just a bit tighter. You’d thought him dead, had spent the better part of four hours on your feet searching for him, asking if anyone had seen the king or even thought they’d caught a glimpse of golden blond hair or an ever so handsome smile.

“You saved my life,” he whispered, the hold he had on you tightening just a bit. “I thought you’d died.”

“You almost died,” you cut back. “If I hadn’t stepped in at the right time, even though you’re built like one, the Fjerdans would’ve killed you.”

Nikolai laughed as you pulled away. “Ever the cynic, I see.”

“Ever the cynic who you fell in love with,” you said pointedly, grin coming to your face. “Ever the cynic who society expects you marry by the end of the year!”

Nikolai laughed, looking to Tolya, who had been watching the two of you with a smile on his face, likely making a note that the two of you reminded him of one of his beloved sonnets.

“Still working on the proposal,” he said. Tolya just gave a shake of his head, rolled his eyes.

“Working on it?” Tolya asked. “I would’ve thought you figured it out by now. You’ve been trying to figure out when to propose since before Sankta Alinas martyrdom.”

You shot Nikolai a look, and he only had time to respond to it with a devilish grin before you were hugging him again, grateful that you’d gotten to him in time to save his life, grateful that he’d not died when you’d lost each other in the bombings that occurred thereafter.

He hugged you back just as tightly, grateful for all the same, and when you separated with your hands interlacing, Tolya only scoffed.

“A proposal isn’t necessary,” he said. “Just go through with the wedding. You act like an old married couple as it is, so you may as well skip that step.”

Nikolai grinned. “Alina did give you the Lantsov emerald."

"And she wanted you to propose using it," you said. "At least something small, she said."

“A lie can be fabricated about a proposal," Nikolai said, having known that neither of you much cared if there was a proposal or anything other than a discussion to indicate your engagement.

“I’ll come up with something and have a couple of our spies get the word out,” Tolya said. “I’m thinking sunset, by the lake, private affair with tears on Nikolais part.”

Nikolai only brought your hand up, pressed a kiss to the back of it. “Works well enough, doesn’t it?”

You nodded. “Well enough indeed.”

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix

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buckybarnesandmarvel · 2 years

Text

Night Owl

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Breastfeeding

Summary: I was wondering if you would be able to do a Chris Evans fic where reader and him have a baby boy together. In the middle of the night reader has to nurse their baby. And Chris wakes up and helps her do it in their bed. After the baby starts feeding Chris just watches him nurse in awe because he is so happy, and you catch him after you open your eyes again.

A/N: AHHH THIS IS MY FIRST REQUEST. Thank you! Also this is a really cute idea and I hope I did it justice!

Y/S/N - Noah :)

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

You sat up and blinked, quickly getting used to the dark around you. You heard the cries of your baby in the other room and you groaned. Sighing, you threw tthe covers off and you made your way to the nursery. You flipped on the lights and your baby boy came into view, standing up, his hands holding tightly onto the edge of the crib, his face red and tear-streaked. When he say you, his hands let go and he fell on the soft mattress, reaching for you. His cries quietened down the closer you got. Picking him up, you rocked him back and forth.

“Oh, baby.” you cooed as he gurgled and squealed, making all sorts of nonsensical noises.

It was way too early and you were still half asleep so you carried him back to the bed. You sat down as Chris shifted, blinking in the dark.

“Baby?”

“Hey, honey. Don’t worry, Noah was crying so I brought him here to feed him.”

“Aww. Hey, little man.” Chris sat up next to you and offered his hand tto Noah. He wrapped his tiny fist around Chris’ finger, giggling.

“Okay. C’mon now. mister.”

You lifted your (Chris’) shirt to free one of your breasts and you brought Noah up to latch onto it. He was very fidgety, trying to face his dad so you both came up with a solution. You gently moved to sit between Chris’ legs, your back against his front. His right arm was wrapped around your waist, his hand placed on your hand that was supporting Noah’s head and neck, the other still in Noah’s tight grip.

Chris rested his head on your shoulder and Noah became content. He could ssee that Chris was there but he wasn’t looking at him at the moment. Chris had turned his head and was staring at you as youmade silly faces to Noah. He smiled softly, wondering how he could’ve gotten so lucky. You felt his stare as you turned to look at him.

“What?” you laughed.

“Nothing.”

You gave a confused look, smling nevertheless, before giving him a quick kiss and turing back to your baby boy. Chris’ smile grew bigger as he pulled you closer and tucked his head into the crook of your shoulder.

Once Noah, was done, you wiped his mouth with a cloth and patted his back to help hi burp. Yu then placed him on your lap, one hand holdig him, the other coming up to go through Chris’ fluffy hair before gently scratching on the nape os his neck.

“C’mon, honey, let’s go back to sleep.” You shifted onto your side of the bed, bringing Noah in the space in the middle. You lay down as Chrois held your son. Getting comfy, your rolled onto your left side as Chris rolled onto his right. He reached over to hold your waist as you both smiled. Noah had already fallen asleep, curled up into Chris’ chest, just below his chin.

“I love you.” you whispered.

“I love you too, baby, so much.”

You drifted off to sleep as Chris stayed awake for a few minutes longer, disbelieving a how he had gotten such a perfect wife and son. It was everything he had ever dreamed off, it being 100 times better as it was you. He couldn’t have asked for anything better.

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

IM SO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE

Tagging:

@pbnjparker @classicalmarvel @smoothdogsgirl

#chris #chris evans #chris evans fluff #chris evans rpf #chris evans x reader #chris evans oneshot #chris evans x you fluff #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x reader fluff #chris evans x reader rpf #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n fluff #loml #daddy #chris evans x wife!reader #chris evans x wife!reader fluff

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nspwriteups · 9 months

Text

Blind Date | Vanmozhi OS Sequel

To say that Arun was surprised at the turn of events of the night would be an understatement. Contrary to what he thought how the blind date set up very cleverly by his sister would go, here he was, walking side by side his sister's best friend a.k.a his date while she was on a solo mission to find the "perfect" street foodspot, scanning the roadside with her wide eyes. He failed to suppress a short laugh and Vanathi turned to him inquisitivly "What's so funny?" She asked curiously. He shook his head and said "Just imagining my Akka thinking that we are bonding over champagne and steak". That got her to laugh as well "Speaking of food" Vanathi said, pointing to a dhaba opposite the road, "Let's start with appatizers". They crossed the road to a seemingly crowded dhaba, "Pani poori or Pav Bhajji?" She asked Arun. "Arun shrugged and grinned "Both?" Apparently that was the right answer because Vanathi's eyes lighted up and she turned to the dhabawale to make the order. The dhabawale handed them a plate each of Pani poori and pav bhaji each and said another plate is going to take some time because of the crowd. They said it's not a problem and decided to share. Arun popped a Pani poori into his mouth and chuckled at Vanathi trying to stuff a large portion of Pav bhaji into her mouth. "Hey, leave some for me too". She blushed and turned the other way, her hair forming a curtain over her face, obstructing him from seeing her expression. He wanted to look at her face, make sure she was happy and enjoying this moment as much as him. What to do to make her look at again? He extended the Pani poori plate towards her and that got her attention. She looked flustered but quickly recovered to pick up a Pani poori and pop it into her mouth, closing her eyes and giving him a thumbs up. "This is so delicious" She said and he gave her a thumbs up too, agreeing silently. Together they finished the meal and paid. "Where to next?" Vanathi asked, looking around. Arun had already noted a chaiwala some distance away. "A perfect cup of midnight chai" He said and made way for the shop.

Vanathi blew on her hot chai in clay cup. She stole a glance at her companion who was busy scrolling through his phone. This was better than she ever imagined. The perfect date. One of many to come, maybe? She felt her cheeks heat up thinking of the possibility of a second date and focused back on her cup. "Penny for your thoughts?" She looked up to see him smile at her and suddenly felt tonguetied. She let out a breathy chuckle and shook her head "I was just thinking, you seem really comfortable doing this. Ever been on a street food date before?" She was just attempting to make small talk and blutered out the first thing that came to her mind.

"Nope, this type of a blind date is first time" He said, smiling.

"If you think about it, it's not exactly a "blind" date" Vanathi continued, fully knowing she was just babbling but not able to stop her talk "I mean, I have seen you around and know you as Keerthana's brother and I'm pretty sure you know me too" She said softly, thinking if he said no, it would be so embarrassing.

"You have seen me around?" Arun looked at her questioningly "Where?" Because while it was true he knew her as his Akka's best friend, he didn't remember seeing her around before.

Vanathi found herself tongue tied for a second time that night . Well, better to come clean rather than lie around it. " I once came to your house to film a dance video. Keerthana was going to let me borrow your guest room for the filming. I didn't really knew my way around and ended up coming into your room. You were sitting by the balcony, with headphones so you didn't really notice me. I went out quickly, that was the first time I saw you" Vanathi deliberately left out the part where she had stood for some time, admiring his good looks and wondering if she'll ever get the courage to strike up a conversation with him before making her out of the room. But apparently the universe had heard her prayer because here she was, living out the date of her dreams with the guy of her dreams. "I remember that. Keerthana said it was the first time she was participating in a dance video" Arun remembered. He also remembered Keerthana sending him the link and him forgetting to watch it. For the next few minutes they spend watching some of her dance videos on YouTube. "This is really beautiful. You are superbly talented" Vanathi basked in Arun's compliments. After finishing their chai, they decided to end the date and go back to their respective cars parked in the hotel parking lot.

They made their way, walking slowly to the parking lot. They were walking so close that they could feel each other's fingers touching and both let it lingering there.

"So, does this meet up with your expectations of an ideal date?" Arun asked nervously.

Vanathi gave him a reassuring smile "It was better than my expectations"

Arun returned the smile and mustered up the courage to touch her hand and was relieved when she held his hand tighter. He felt they reached the parking lot faster than he thought of and gazed at her. "So…" He began, wondering how to phrase what he wanted to say next.

"So…." She mimicked his sentence, also seeming to be in a dilemma. Then she let out a gasp "What are we going to tell Keerthana?"

"We both been to the fancy hotel she booked. Just comment on the quality of the food and the quantity of the people or something. I'm not saying she's going to buy the lie but atleast we can confuse her" Arun winked and Vanathi gave him an amused look. "You are unbelievable!" She said, "Maybe you can tell me how much you confused her on our second date?"

Arun was impressed on how straightforward she was "Only if you promise we'll be having that conversation in a streetfood - style date again"

They shook their hands again, neither making an effort to move and gazing into each other's eyes with goofy smiles on their lips.

Hope you liked this...waiting eagerly for your reviews

@ramcharanobsessed @dumdaradumdaradum @vibishalakshman @harinishivaa @hollogramhallucination @kovaipaavai@rang-lo. @willkatfanfromasia@thelekhikawrites@thegleamingmoon@deafeningflowercat@yehsahihai@whippersnappersbookworm@itsfookingloosah@gemsmusings@chiyaanvikram@elvenladysakura. @matka-kulfi. @madatdisney@bumblebeeskywalker@vahnithedreamer@nkarti@dosai-maavu@utterlynotperfect@winter-birds@happy-bookworm @tumbledout @anabanana4115 @freeunknownwasteland @bhataktiatmacore@rapunzels-stuff@celestesinsight@mairablue@rationalelderberry@existenceiswhateven@arachneofthoughts@spider5884fan11 @cara-2003 @nirmohi-premika @stella12 @thereader-radhika @inveter

#ponniyin selvan #ponniyin selvan 2 #arulmozhi #vanathi #kundavai #arulmozhi varman #vanmozhi

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nygmobblepot-trash · 1 year

Text

Oswald has made a lot of bad choices in life. One of the biggest being freeing the Riddler. It isn't until Riddler complains of no one understanding him that sends him and Oswald in a drunken spiral. The only question is, who or what will come from this spiral? Will Oswald be able to reach Edward before Riddler cements his place as victor?

AN: I really hope people like this and it feels realistic. I feel like this how the big fight between Os, Riddler, and Ed would go. Also please watch the scene from s4ep14 where Oswald frees the Riddler. A lot of this mirrors that scene. I thought it would be poetic.

@angelhannah wanted to be tagged so here you are. 💓

Two men busted through the doors to Oswald Cobblepot's mansion. The taller one who entered the space first was taking extremely fast complaining about several things. The most important one being that no one understands and will never understand his genius. The shorter one slowly followed behind. He paid no attention to his partner ranting and made his way to the bar. A trail of water was left behind as the rainwater that clung to his clothes slid down his black coat and hair.

"Oswald you're making a mess." The taller man scolded while hanging up his wet hat and coat that were annoying an shade of green.

Oswald mumbled, "It's my house" as he lazily grabbed the first bottle he saw. Which happened to be an expensive bottle of whiskey. Riddler was too far away to notice Oswald staring at the bottle longer than normal. Nor did he notice the pained look that painted his face.

Riddler slowly approached the bar as Oswald slammed a glass against the counter. He watched with fear as Oswald filled the glass to the brim.

"Um that's a bit much, don't you think? That's several servings and you've been drinking all night." Riddler anxiously eyed the glass.

"And you haven't had a drop. It's your drink, time to catch up." Oswald pushed the drink towards Riddler.

Riddler frowned as whiskey sloshed over the rim of the glass and onto the counter. He pursed his lips as he grabbed the bottle. His thumb slowly traced the gold lettering which told the name and alcohol percentage.

"Amrut. 60 percent alcohol volume." He mumbled to himself.

"Congrats you can fucking read." Oswald sighed impatiently and yanked the bottle way.

Riddler frowned as he thought, 'Amrut. I know that name. Why? Amrut.... wait...'

Suddenly Riddler's eyes lit up. "Oswald that's a thousand-dollar bottle, right?"

Oswald huffed. "I don't know. Probably."

"Well for something so expensive maybe you shouldn't spill so much." Riddler gestured to the mess.

Oswald rolled his eyes and raised the bottle to his lips. Riddler watched silently as Oswald tipped the liquid into his mouth.

Riddler lasted only 6 seconds before yanking the bottle away. "Jesus Christ Oswald! Can you go one night without trying to kill yourself by alcohol poisoning?"

Oswald was hunched over facing away from Riddler gripping the side of the bar. His eyes were tightly shut as he tried to steady his breathing.

"Stop pretending like you care." Oswald enunciated each word angrier than the last.

"Will you just go to the bathroom already?! Throw up and you'll feel better." Riddler reached over the bar and grabbed Oswald's shoulder to shove him away from the bar.

Oswald shoved him off and screamed, "I won't feel better! I'll never feel better!"

Riddler stared shocked for a moment before retracting his hand. He settled on the bar stool and silently stared into the glass Oswald had put out for him. "Whatever," he put a gloved hand around the bottom of the glass. "Batman should be here any minute to take us away to Arkham, spend your final moments of freedom how you please," he spoke and took a small drink of the whiskey. Riddler immediately doubled over coughing. "How did you drink so much and not react to it at all?"

Oswald slowly turned his head towards Riddler's glass. "Oh. I forgot the ice." He mumbled quietly.

Riddler furrowed his brows. Normally when Oswald starts screaming he doesn't stop.

Oswald reached down below the bar into the tub of ice. He grabbed a handful of ice and practically threw it down into the glass. Liquor splashed everywhere.

"Aa-! Oswald!" Riddler yelled as he jumped away. "What is your problem?!"

Oswald sneered. "You. You are my fucking problem."

Riddler huffed as he tried to dab away the alcohol away from his green suit. "Of course. Always blaming me for your problems." He ripped his gloves off and threw them at the bar.

"No, I can take responsibility. I have in the past but you never admit to your side. You're a God damn coward and you always will be."

Now it was Riddler's time to yell. "I'm the coward?!" Fine, I'll play your childish game." Riddler stomped to the bar and picked up the glass of whiskey. He didn't react as ice and liquor spilled over the side.

Oswald rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and the last sip you had went so well. Besides I wasn't referring to-"

Riddler shot back the drink in a way Oswald had never seen. He slammed the glass down on the bar. Ice clattered around the cup.

"Wow, you sure showed me." Oswald taunted sarcastically.

"Shut up and give me something to chase it with." Riddler spat.

Oswald bent down and rummaged around for a bit. After a minute he stood up holding a bright red pop can. "I don't have anything." He answered as he pulled the tab.

"You're so funny." Riddler hissed as he yanked the can from Oswald. He quickly drank half the can. It didn't do much to take that awful taste in his mouth and only made the feeling in his stomach worse. That wasn't even the worst of it as he noticed the room start to slightly spin. Riddler grabbed onto the bar for support.

"Damn, that hit you faster than I guessed." Oswald laughed.

Riddler was about to lie about his current state until he saw something in the corner of his eye. Someone in some boring gray suit he hadn't seen in years. Riddler quickly shot his in the direction of what he saw.

"What? Is that stupid bat here already? Hey jackass! You don't have to do your whole running around in the dark shtick. Can we just skip to the part where you tie us up and we wait for Gordon and his alcoholic dog?" Oswald whined.

"It's not him. I thought I saw someone else," Riddler sighed.

"I see you're going to keep stalling," Oswald said annoyed.

"I'm not stalling," Riddler pressed.

"I wasn't calling you a coward. You're the one being used as a shield so he doesn't have to deal with any of this shit."

Riddler furrowed his brows. "Oswald, what the heck are you even talking about? It's just us here."

Oswald, at a speed Riddler didn't even know was possible for Oswald, reached over the bar and yanked hard on Riddler's tie. "As much as you want to believe he's gone, he's not. You may rarely let him out but I know he's still in there." Oswald stared through Riddler which only confused him more. "When we got here you were bitching about how no one understands you, no one truly sees you. How fucking dare you." Oswald's voice broke.

"Oswald-" Riddler started to speak.

"No! Shut the hell up. I have listened to you all night. For once you're going to listen to me. I see you. I know you better than you know yourself. I know you kill people to show you're better than them. I know Ed keeps newspapers that detail your actions not because he's proud but because it makes him sick."

Riddler's vision started to blur. The situation was starting to get out of hand and he needed to take control so he grabbed onto Oswald's arm. "That's enough." He tried to say in a serious tone but his words slurred.

Behind Oswald, someone else spoke. "Huh. You've never had this happen to you before."

Riddler blinked hard and the figure was gone. "Don't talk about him! He's gone. I killed him! I am the victorious one."

Oswald clenched his teeth. "You don't care about anyone. It isn't possible. You've told yourself that caring is a weakness. That's how I know he's here. He doesn't like me drinking too much. He always comes to bail me out when my choices catch up to me." Tears started to form in Oswald's eyes, but he continued. "I haven't seen him in years but I see glimpses. The way you linger in a room like you want to say more but you swallow the words. The way you reach your hand out to comfort me but always retract it."

It was then Riddler heard a God-awful ringing and that voice. "It sucks to lose control. To have someone make choices for you."

"I'm not losing control!" Riddler shouted.

Oswald slightly loosened his grip on Riddler's tie. His jaw fell slightly. "You sound like him. It's been so long but I remember when he was still fighting you. How he begged to not be you anymore. How he argued with me and to the air. But it was never the air, it was you haunting him."

Riddler's eyes widened "Oswald don't!" He warned.

"You've realized it too! Here we are again, my dear friend." Oswald spoke with malace.

"Please." Riddler whispered.

Oswald smiled sadly. "Yes beg as he did! Beg as he did before. You didn't kill him, Riddler. I did. I was so angry about how he chose you over me. How he tried to kill me. Then he dared to choose that woman who he claimed to know him. He was right. I was selfish and wanted revenge. I understood enough to hurt him. I was wrong. I fucked up that day. I chose wrong."

Oswald's tearful face started to fade along with the world around him. The ringing turned into a low buzz. The only clear thing was Edward Nygma. He held the same bottle from earlier. He studied it closely and ran his fingers over the words as Riddler had done earlier. "I bought this for Oswald when I worked for him. It was the first thing I bought with my paycheck. I didn't plan for this. I wonder if he did, it would be poetic."

Riddler grabbed onto Oswald desperately. "Please. Please, don't do this! You were right to choose me. Look I've treated you unfairly but you deserve better. I get that now."

Oswald blinked away tears. "What was it I said? It's been so long..."

Suddenly Riddler remembered the knife in his pocket.

"I see the other you, the one's name I wouldn't speak..."

Riddler's hand shot into his pocket where he quickly found the pocket knife.

"...but because he's earned it and because I need him..."

Riddler slowly removed the weapon from his pocket.

"..I'm saying it now..."

"Last warning," Riddler said through clenched teeth.

"I need you."

"Hurry and say it!" Ed shouted.

Unfortunately, no one heard as Ridder clicked open the knife and plunged it into Oswald's chest.

Oswald gasped and stumbled backward.

Riddler breathed hard. "You made me do that. This is your fault, I warned you! I told you I'd never go back and be weak."

Oswald slowly looked down at his chest and began laughing through pained gasps of breath. "You never learn, do you?"

"What?"

Oswald slowly approached and grabbed Riddler's face. "Your bullet didn't keep me dead." One of Oswald's hands dropped as Oswald continued to struggle to breathe. "This tiny blade... won't finish the job either."

Riddler removed Oswald's hand. His other self was nowhere to be seen and the ringing was gone. Riddler smirked. "Yeah I don't know about that. There's no one here to call for anymore. Deep down I knew that if I wanted to become my full self I'd have to kill you. I never finished the job because I thought it would be fun to watch you struggle. It was always going to end up like this Oswald."

Oswald sunk to the bar. "You seem to forget the only reason you're here is because... I allow it." Oswald gritted his teeth but spoke through the pain. "I freed you and...now I'm going to imprison you again. Oswald made his way out from behind the bar.

Riddler eyed the bottle Ed was holding earlier. "I think this conversation is over, Oswald." He grabbed the bottle but somehow Oswald faster and held onto him. In a panic, Riddler swung the bottle.

"I need you, Ed!" Oswald shouted through bloody teeth.

The whisky bottle slipped through Ed's fingers. It crashed to the floor. The sound caused Ed to grab Oswald and hold him close.

Oswald hissed in pain.

Ed frowned feeling the wetness on his hands. "Oswald why are you wet?"

"It was raining you idiot." Oswald sighed in relief. "Welcome back."

Ed looked at the shattered glass beneath them. "I almost did something bad, didn't I?"

"Yeah about that..." Oswald whimpered. "As much as I am loving this embrace you're pushing the knife further in."

"Oh!" Ed jumped back and it was then he finally noticed the blade. "Oh, dear." Ed frowned. Ed frantically looked around for something to help the situation.

Oswald's body wobbled. "I still need you if I want to stay upright, Ed."

"Right, of course." Ed stood on Oswald's side.

Oswald grabbed Ed's suit jacket like a small child would as he still struggled to stay standing.

"Uhm," Ed wrapped one of his arms around Oswald to stop Oswald from leaning. "this better?"

"Yeah." Oswald answered weakly. "Thank you."

Ed led Oswald to the living room and laid him down on a black couch. "I'm going to call an ambulance. I probably pierced your lung. It's not fatal currently but we should get you to the hospital before that changes."

"Wait." Oswald grabbed onto Edward. "Don't leave me. Not when I finally got you back."

Ed sighed annoyed. "We can talk later. I know you think you're unkillable but I assure you that you can die."

"I'm fine!" Oswald grabbed the knife and ripped it out of his chest.

"Are you insane?!" Ed shrieked.

As Ed panicked Oswald grabbed him. "I was faking it, Ed!"

"You what?" Ed hissed.

Oswald threw his hands up in defense. "Hey, you should be happy I'm not hurt! Besides, do you think I would ever trust Riddler? That psycho stabs me randomly because he desperately needs to convince himself that he isn't weak."

Ed collapsed to his knees. He reached a shaking hand to Oswald's chest. He moved part of Oswald's jacket to the side to follow the hole left from Riddler's knife.

"Eddie I told you I'm fine. I have a vest on." Oswald tried to wave Ed off him but Ed held on tightly.

"Be. Quiet. Oswald." Ed commanded his voice still drowning in anger.

Oswald rolled his eyes as Ed undid several buttons of his white dress shirt. "You see the vest now?"

"What kind of vest is it?" Ed asked slowly.

"Why the fuck does that matter? I don't know. Bulletproof."

Ed took a large and long breath in. "And did you get shot?"

"Oh fuck you. If something can stop a bullet then it can stop a fucking knife!" Oswald yelled.

"No Oswald, no it can't. Kevlar is for bullets. Aramid is for sharp objects like knives."

"Big fucking whoop. I'd know if I got stabbed." Oswald stood his ground because he is very stupid.

Ed's eyes shot up from Oswald's chest to his eyes. Oswald felt his heart jump a beat as his face grew hot, he realized Ed had practically undressed him and was now fussing over his health.

Unfortunately for Oswald, Ed had other plans and rammed several fingers up to the hole in his vest.

"-Ay! I'm sure there's a bruise there you jackass!" Oswald hissed.

"A bruise doesn't bleed on the outside of your skin." Ed spoke as he showed Oswald his fingers.

Oswald put a hand over his wound to stop Ed from further violating it. "How the fuck would you know? You didn't even look at your fingers before you showed me. Always so sure of yourself."

"Really? So if I turn my hand around I won't see blood." Ed deadpanned.

"...no you won't." Oswald said slowly. "But if you look that means I win because you submit to the possibility of being wrong."

Ed pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. "Oswald I can feel it on my fingers. It doesn't feel like sweat."

"Okay... fine, he stabbed me... a little bit," Oswald proceeded to show what a little bit is with his fingers. "That whole trouble breathing was an act. I can breathe perfectly... mostly. It has nothing to do with the knife."

"Why is everything a joke to you?"

Oswald frowned. "I- you're right. I'm sorry. I just really missed this. For someone called the Ri- well you know his name, he doesn't like fun. Unless someone is getting hurt."

A pained look flashed across Edward's face. "I can't stay long, you know that right?"

Oswald shook his head in confusion. "What do you mean? I freed you. It's over. Or are you talking about Batman? Who cares about Arkham, we'll be out in no time, and from there we can decide." Oswald paused biting his bottom lip. "Um, we can decide what happens next."

Suddenly Ed grabbed Oswald by his coat. "You don't get it! It's not over, it will never be over."

"Eddie..." Oswald was at a loss for the right words. All Oswald could do is watch helplessly as Ed hung his head.

Ed slowly let go of Oswald, his hands shaking quite aggressively the whole time. "I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't." He repeated over and over again his voice barely audible.

Oswald wasn't scared when Riddler threatened him nor was he scared when Riddler acted on those threats, not even when Riddler almost bashed his head in. He was in control. He had Riddler right where he wanted and knew exactly what he would do next. But this? This was fucking terrifying. It had been a long time since he last saw Ed. He mostly knew of Ed when he was Oswald's advisor. He was always so happy and unafraid of any challenge. Frankly, he welcomed any challenge. Not in the way Riddler did of course. Ed didn't do it for the praise he did it because he enjoyed solving problems for others. No matter the challenge he never gave up hope.

'Who did this to you? Was it me?' Oswald thought to himself.

"Please tell me what's going Ed. I can't help you if you don't tell me." Oswald said quietly trying not to further upset Ed.

Ed continued to repeat "I can't." As he shrunk to the floor. His forehead touched the floor and his arms held his torso tightly.

Please don't shut down again. Did I push you too far? Maybe I should just call it a night.

Oswald was taken out of his thoughts as Ed practically tackled Oswald back onto the couch.

"Ed use your words!" Oswald screamed as he hit the couch with a thud.

Ed buried his head into Oswald's chest (avoiding the wound). "I almost did it again. I told you he'd be back."

"You see Riddler already?" Oswald frowned. "You wanted to shut down again but when you shut down he comes out, am I right?"

"Yes." Ed answered quietly.

"Why are you so against talking to me?"

"I..." Ed trailed off.

Oswald sighed sadly. "Ed it's been a long day. Why don't you go to bed and we'll talk in the morning."

"Oswald there is no later. I doubt Gordon is going to forget about us. It's only a matter of time before they take care of whatever the distraction is."

"Ed I don't want to force you to talk to me. I don't know what I did to make you think you can't talk to me about how you're feeling. I don't care how bad it is. You're not going to hurt me."

"That's just it, I am going to hurt you!" Ed's grip tightened. "I almost killed you today. It's only a matter of time."

"You keep saying you. Ed that was Riddler. Not you."

"Riddler isn't some force that possesses my body. Riddler is a part of me." Ed's voice broke. "I am the Riddler."

"You're not-" Oswald started to say before he was cut off by Ed.

"I am! He exists because part of me believes in what he believes in, and wants what he wants. I thought I deserved Kristen because I did everything I was supposed to do. I told myself I killed that cop because he abused her but the truth is I liked showing I was better than him. You were right about Isabella, it was only a matter of time till I became what I truly am."

"What are you?"

"A self-conscious loser that will destroy everything and everyone around him to stroke his ego or to avoid pain."

"And?"

Ed raised his head. "And what?"

Oswald snorted. "That's not all. All you did is describe the Riddler and so what? Fine, Riddler may be a part of you but you're so much more than that. You choose what you want to be, no one else. You don't want to be Riddler anymore? Then don't be him."

"It isn't that simple Oswald." Ed spat.

"How would you know? Have you tried? Do you want to know why Riddler beats you? It's because you think only he can believe in himself. Just like when you convinced yourself you aren't smart. You're the smartest person I know. Including Riddler. Riddler thinks of himself as an unbeatable God. He doesn't factor in the chance that he can be beaten, you do. You love the pursuit of knowledge, he just wants to know more than everyone. You care too much and get hurt, he refuses to care because he's terrified of getting hurt. You're two are two opposites of a spectrum. You aren't him and he isn't you. You're my best friend and always will be. I don't care what it takes to get you to see that you're better than him.

"Oswald I will mess up again. We'll get into some dumb argument or someone will make me small and I'll-"

"Relapse? So what? No matter how many times I mess up you drag me out and show me reality. I will do the same for you. We can't avoid hurting each other but we can trust we'll save each other from going too far. You remember what you told me, right?"

"I'll do anything for you," Ed answered quietly.

"Exactly. You promised." Oswald took a shakey breath in and held Ed tightly. "I want you to be who you want to be and to let me help you do that. You don't have to be alone anymore. I'm sorry it took me so long to figure out that I needed you back and how to get you back."

Ed listened to Oswald's pounding heartbeat. He tightly shut his eyes and tried to steady his own heart. "Wait you planned this?"

Oswald feeling bold ran his hand through Ed's hair. Somehow it was still wet from the rain. Or was it from Oswald's coat? "Not exactly. I had no idea how to bring you back besides getting you to fall in love with someone and there was no way Riddler was going to let that happen again. I guess it started with that idiot complaining no one sees him. I wanted to scream at him and prove him wrong but I knew how that argument was going to end. So I went straight to the bar and saw that damn bottle of whiskey. As soon as I grabbed it I remembered why it was never opened. You gave that exact bottle to me after your first 2 weeks of working for me."

Ed smiled and chuckled, "You remembered?"

"There's nothing I can forget about you." Oswald whispered.

"What?" Ed lifted his head.

"Nothing!" Oswald quickly said and guided Ed's head back down to his chest. "Let me finish. So, I had this bottle, right? And I kept thinking about you. I wanted to talk to you more than anything and then this bastard dared to scold me for drinking. I thought, 'How dare you complain when you never even drink yourself," and then I thought why that was. He would definitely be the type to get absolutely wasted after winning one of his games. Why not, after all, you like to drink occasionally. So then I started to think of your differences. Cold and calculating vs warm and... also calculating I guess... but in a good way! Riddler prides himself on being logical and yells at me for being a 'beating and bloody heart.' I wondered if I made his judgment cloudy you may be able to shine through. The issue was getting you to see through the clouds. Speaking of that, when you aren't you, are you still aware of everything?"

"No." Ed paused for a moment trying to find the right words, "It's kind of like sleeping. It's mostly darkness and nothingness. But once in a while, I'll see images like a dream but I'm not dreaming, it's happening."

"So if you see something and don't like what Riddler is doing can you wake up?"

Ed's hands shook and his breath became erratic.

Oswald unwrapped his arms from Ed and put them on his face. "Ed, it's okay. We don't have to talk about that. It was stupid of me to ask about something that was probably traumatic."

Ed brought his own hands to Oswald's hands. "No, I want to talk about it." He slowly brought Oswald's and his hands down. "That day on the dock when I shot you. There was a moment when I was going to forgive you. Wound you as you had wounded me but let you live."

Oswald's eyes widened in shock.

"But then you went on about how I was nothing and that you created me. You were referring to the other me and it was at that moment I was forced away. From that moment on you sealed your fate. I could do nothing as you begged him to answer you. I couldn't warn you because you had accidentally chosen him thinking he would save you."

"I didn't learn my lesson then." Oswald smiled sadly.

"Third time's a charm, right?"

"Wait then how did I see you sometimes?"

"It's complicated." Ed frowned. "I guess if I feel strongly enough I can take control for a moment. It rarely lasts. It's like I'm an intrusive thought that is quickly pushed away." Ed shrugged. "So what was your idea of getting through to me?"

"Hurt myself obviously. Riddler had shown fake concern over my drinking so I pushed it and it worked. But it only worked for a second and I was devastated. I needed him to drink so I taunted him. I almost gave myself up when he took a small sip but I quickly realized my theory was either shit or I needed him to drink more. I can't lie and say everything I said was part of the plan. I was obviously still feeling the alcohol and was pissed at that bastard. Anyways he drank more and I finally saw the alcohol take effect. I was going to try to play an emotional angle when I realized he wasn't even looking at me. I saw the fear on his face looking at someone that wasn't there. It was then I realized I could beat him. I got so desperate I started screaming at you. You were there somewhere, right? I just needed to pull you out. Then I realized we had been here before. I remembered Arkham and felt idiotic for forgetting it. Of course, this would be the way to free you. But I suppose you know that as you were there with me.

Before Ed could respond the dark room lit up with flashing red and blue lights.

"Looks like Zsasz and Freeze got caught." Oswald sighed. He turned his head to Ed who was white as a ghost and clutching Oswald's hands tightly. "Ed. It'll be fine. They don't have much on us. We'll probably be gone a month, at most."

"Oswald Cobblepot this is the GCPD come out with your hands up!" Gordon's voice echoed through the house.

Ed anxiously watched the door. "I almost let Riddler take control within 5 minutes. I can't last a month."

"You have one minute before we use force." Gordon spoke again.

"Come on Oswald, give me a reason to shoot you!" Bullock screamed.

Oswald stood. "It looks like they're only here for me." He turned and gave Ed one last hug. "I'll be out soon. You'll be fine, Ed. If you're so worried you can figure out a way to break me out. Otherwise, I'll break you out if needed."

"Time's u-"

Oswald released Ed. "Yeah yeah! I'm fucking coming you miserable prick!" He walked over to the door and shoved the handle down. Before pushing the door open he turned his head to Ed one last time. He smiled and winked before throwing the door open.

"If you wanted a meeting with the mayor you should've scheduled one!" He shouted with his hands on his head.

"I call cuffing him." Bullock said as he made his way to Oswald but Gordon was faster.

"No. I told you not to steal the megaphone." Gordon grumbled as he cuffed Oswald.

"Jesus. Does Lee know you're in another marriage?" Oswald sneered.

"Eat shit, Oswald," Harvey said as he yanked Oswald by the collar and ushered him to the cop car.

"Enough. Can we get out of the rain already?" Gordon groaned.

"Wait!" A voice yelled from the house.

"What now?!" Harvey groaned.

Oswald fought against Harvey to see what was going on. Ed had ran out of the house. "Go back inside, Ed." Oswald commanded.

"I'm an accomplice so I should be arrested too."

Harvey and Gordon exchanged a look. Harvey shrugged and Gordon nodded.

"Yeah sure." Harvey mumbled as he cuffed Ed.

Soon Ed and Oswald sat in the back of Bullock's car while he drove recklessly. As Gordon and Bullock argued about who knows more about driving, Oswald leaned next to Oswald. "Why the fuck did you do that?"

Ed smiled excitedly. "I figured out how to break you out."

Oswald held back a laugh. "Of course you did."

"Okay, you can stop bitching about my driving now, the sun came out." Harvey hissed at Gordon.

Oswald smiled and rested his head against Edward as he and Edward looked at each other 'Yeah the sun is out.'

Edward pursed his lips as he looked toward the front of the car and back toward Oswald. Before Oswald could question him Ed did something unexpected. Ed quickly craned his neck down and kissed Oswald. It was over before Oswald could register anything.

"What the fuck was that, Ed?" Oswald shrieked as his face went completely red.

Ed sat facing the front of the car, straight as can be. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Mr. Cobblepot," he deadpaned.

"Oh, you fucker!" Harvey groaned. With one hand still on the wheel Harvey fished out his wallet. He then threw a 100 dollar bill at Gordon. Who silently pocketed it.

"Absolutely not. Was that a bet? Tell me right now what it was." Oswald demanded kicking the back of Gordon's chair.

"Save it for Arkham, Oswald." Gordon sighed annoyed.

"Ed! Did you know?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Ed shrugged.

"I change my mind, it was all Ed! I'm innocent." Oswald yelled.

"Be quiet or ill make you share a cell with Zsasz. When we arrested him earlier he offered to drag your ass in for us." Gordon warned.

"Why didn't you let him do it? He's better at your job than you are. I let you arrest me today." Oswald taunted.

Ed laughed as he settled into his seat.

#gotham #edward nygma #nygmobblepot #oswald cobblepot #the riddler #fanfiction

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pudgecuddles · 4 months

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Proof Of Concept: Mad Science

[It's been a really weird week so what better way to cope than to check in on your magnum opus again? lol]

Namjoon Breast Growth & WG, Jin Route:

Synopsis thus far: Namjoon works for Jin’s company where he was accidentally exposed to a chemical that, unbeknownst to Namjoon, causes breast growth and weight gain. He decides to call Jin for help only for his boss to take him deeper into the facility…

The elevator opened up to a mostly empty, blue walled hallway. Too dizzy to turn his head left or right, all Namjoon could immediately see was a handful of unlabeled metal doors. Interestingly, there were no door handles or visible card scanners to be found. Still helping Namjoon stay upright, Dr. Kim promptly walked them both to the closest door. As the doctor drew near, Namjoon heard a cheerful beep and the door slid open. Proximity sensors? “Here we go, Namjoon-ssi.” Dr. Kim led him to an actually very comfortable, if not pretty large, hospital cot. It was soft and smelt freshly washed. Namjoon flopped backwards in relief. Even with his eyes closed, his head was spinning. “Oh man… Thank you Dr. Kim.” Namjoon sighed. “A minute longer and I think I would have puked.” “It's the least I can do.” Dr. Kim’s voice came from the other side of the bed-like cot. “We want to make sure you’re comfortable during your stay here.” “Oh! You don’t need to worry about that.” Namjoon quickly assures. “I swear, I’ll be out of your hair and back to work as soon as my symptoms improve. I wouldn’t want to trouble you for longer than necessary.” “Hmm,” Dr. Kim didn’t pause in whatever he was fiddling with outside of Namjoon’s vision, “And how are you feeling right now, Namjoon-ssi?” The older man asked, brushing off what his new patient had just said. “Umm…” Namjoon took a second to give himself a small check up, “I’m really dizzy; vertigo, nausea, fever possibly? I’m pretty sweaty and uh- a bit bloated.” Glancing down at his middle, Namjoon saw an puffy bump where a flat stomach should've been. Dr. Kim looked over at that. “Yes, that all lines up. It’s been around 20 minutes after the exposure, are you sure you don’t feel anything else? Just nauseous?” “I really do-” A loud gurgle from Namjoon’s stomach cuts him off. “Oh! Oh god, I am so hungry.” A sudden rush of hunger overtakes Namjoon. “Good, good. That’s typical.” Dr. Kim smiles, reaching down to palpate Namjoon’s belly. His fingers pressed and prodded against the surprisingly soft flesh of his new tummy. “Yes. It seems to be coming long nicely.” Dr. Kim commented, giving Namjoon’s now plush belly a condescending pat, watching it barely wobble. “I-I’m sorry, Dr. Kim, but I don’t understand…” Namjoon whispered. “What’s happening to me?” “Let’s get an IV in you.” Dr. Kim ignored him. “The hunger indicates that your body is asking for nutrients.” “An IV? Can’t I just eat something?” Okay, so he wasn’t going to be getting much information out of the director. Namjoon understood that their client’s serums were supposed to be the private equivalent of state secrets. Of course he wouldn’t be allowed to know what they did… That was what’s happening, right? Dr. Kim began prepping an IV line, pulling out a bag of clear liquid. “Nil per os. Nothing by mouth, young man. Solid food could choke you if you ate too fast. We can’t compromise the process.” Process... Namjoon gulped, half out of nerves, half to swallow down the saliva produced from thinking about food.

“Y-you said no solid food, right? So, something like a protein shake or- or mashed potatoes would be okay then?” Dr. Kim paused, a thoughtful look forming on his face. “I can try it.” He assented, starting to put away the IV. “I’ll have to hook you up with a feeding tube, though. You wont be able to talk.” Any panic Namjoon felt at the thought of being muted for who knows how long they’ll have him hooked up, was washed away by another painful wave of hunger. “Ngh! I don’t care, Doctor! I just need it in me! Please I’m so hungry!” An intense, but unreadable expression appeared on Dr. Kim’s face. “Again.” Namjoon whined, “What?” “Ask me again.” “I’m hungry, Doctor. P-please give me the tube…” Namjoon teared up. The pain was getting worse. Dr. Kim harshly pinched a perky, hardened nipple, eliciting a cut off moan. “You will refer to me as, Sir. Understand?” Namjoon could taste bile in the back of his throat, but he was desperate at this point. “Sir! Please, I need the tube! I’m starving!” Dr. Kim chuckled mockingly, “Starving? With all of this hanging off of you?” He slapped Namjoon’s plush tummy. “Sure, I’ll play along. Here, open wide and don’t choke. We’ll try this without anesthesia first. I don’t want to add another variable to the experiment.” Namjoon’s mouth opened wide, eager to be filled up. The tube slid down impossibly easy, as if Namjoon’s gag reflex had been turned off for the day. The vague feeling of the rubber hitting his stomach was uncomfortable, but the younger man didn’t choke. Dr. Kim moved over to the other side of the actually quite large room. What Namjoon had originally thought was an exit turned out to be double doors to a large walk in refrigerator. Bags of clear fluid, blood, and plasma hung in organized rows. Dr. Kim ignored those however, instead reaching into a plastic bin. The doctor shuffled back over, a massive vacuum sealed bag of beigeish paste craddled in both arms. The thing was huge; four, maybe five liters of the stuff sloshed thickly with every step. Plopping it down on a metal table with a huff, Dr. Kim shook out his arms. “Oh, I have got to get a cart with wheels.” Namjoon absently tongued the bottom of the cold, smooth tube. Dr. Kim pulled the bag closer to the large, metal machine stood behind Namjoon’s bed, out of sight. After what sounded like metal creaking and plastic tearing, Namjoon felt the tube vibrate lightly. Sadly, he couldn’t taste the paste being pumped into him, but Namjoon could definitely feel it settling in his stomach. Finally, Namjoon moaned, eyes rolling into the back of his head. Feels so good... Dr. Kim smiled as Namjoon’s belly began to bloat outwards, the younger man’s eyes barely open. “Enjoying yourself there, Joon-ah?” The nickname sounded belittling coming out of the doctor’s mouth. Namjoon just hummed, suckling needlessly at the rubber between his plump lips.

It’s been a while since I’ve worked on this interactive story, and I’m not even sure if anyone would be interested in it at this point ^_^;

I still desperately want to finish it some day, hopefully before BTS finishes their military service… It’s just hard to find kinky motivation when you’re incapable of feeling arousal in any sense of the word.

Let me know if anyone would even still be interested in reading this!

It will contain 4 routes, 15 branches and 30 endings with a hopeful update for a 5th route featuring JK in the future. I would honestly consider this my most intensive project to date.

Happy to get out this little preview at least!

#pudgeprojects #pudgepreview #// mad science #bts feederism

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osirisiii-bc · 5 months

Text

The Devil in your details [Terzo x Copia OS]

Ratings: NSFW, explicit, sex, oral sex, slash, some fluff, hurt/comfort, lemon, drunkenness, drunken confessions, drunken clumsy flirting

Words: 5.936

Pairings: Terzo x Copia, Copia x OC (mostly male), Terzo x F!OC

Summary: It was a more or less ordinary evening, an oversized T-shirt, and a possibly too excited Copia. That's what it took to end up in bed together, and for them to enjoy it. No major reason, no jealousy, no trauma or music, because that's where the Devil lie: in the details.

Note: I’m trying to go as clear as possible in the ratings but I’m not going to specify if they are related or not here, because I want it that way, but neither it is specified in the fic itself. If you feel ok in reading go for it, if not, just don’t. I don’t think I have to give further explanation for this but if asked I will.

Read on AO3 | Wattpad.

"Terzo... are you awake?"

Copia crawled silently onto Terzo's bed, sitting on his hills and feeling the sheets for the elder's body in the darkness of the room. He knew the door was always open for him, in case some nocturnal fight between Nihil and Sister Imperator made it hard for him to sleep. It looked like such an occasion.

"Ter- ah!!" the little one squeaked when a pinch hit his side. He smiled: Terzo was awake.

"What do you want?" his voice was still sleepy, shifting in the blankets.

"I can't sleep..."

A rustle of sheets, and Copia found himself immediately in the arms of the brunet who embraced him without hesitation. A light kiss on the lips, and Copia was sure the night would pass quickly and without nightmares.

I. When Copia kissed him.

When he sat up on the bed, his feet touching the floor, he felt a burning sensation in his stomach and a strong pounding in his head, a result of the crazy mix from the night before.

He placed a hand on his stomach and one on his forehead, bending slightly over himself. " I swear I'll never screw while stuffed with alcohol again ." he said to himself. Another promise waiting to be forgotten.

He turned his head and saw the guy he had spent the night with still sleeping, lying on his back and barely covered by the sheet. He was a fellow student; he didn't know him very well, but he only knew he was 17 and had brown hair. He also knew his name was Markus, not that it mattered, but it was something.

He usually didn't go for guys or girls he could meet every day, but neither for complete strangers.

" Better to know them... but not too much ." he always said.

Anyway, he didn't expect Markus to go for guys as well... but most likely, he had to be the only exception, as it had been for others. He could be very convincing at times.

He stood up with difficulty and almost immediately found his boxers. Putting them on, he looked around for his other clothes, but instead, he found himself facing his reflection in the large mirror in front of him, and he didn't like it much.

Every time he looked in the mirror, his insecurities materialized before his eyes. As peculiar as his appearance was, he should have spent whole days admiring his unique figure, a beauty that, however, did not exist for him.

He saw someone who wasn't there and who wasn't him, vehemently rejecting that pointed little face that returned to his heterochromatic eyes like a face too elongated, a pair of unnatural dark circles, a nose too long… And the freckles, how could he forget the trickles that made him look like a kid burnt by the summer sun. He turned sideways, tensing his muscles and retracting his already toned stomach, just to give himself a false satisfaction in seeing his defined belly for a moment.

What do they see in me? He found himself thinking from time to time, then shrugged off the fact that he was not lacking admirers, whatever the reason.

He dressed quickly, avoiding finding his reflection again, and walked in the semi-darkness of the room to the guy's jeans left on the floor.

There was a pack of cigarettes he remembered seeing in his hand the night before, in the pocket; he took one, muttering a "Thanks..." putting it between his lips, and left the room without making the slightest noise.

In the corridor, a couple, a priest and a Sister of Sin, who were kissing tenderly, caught his attention. From behind, nuns might all look alike, but when they turned while laughing together, the unlit cigarette fell from his lips when he recognized the girl hugging what seemed to be her new boyfriend.

Terzo approached him without saying a word, moving his hand from his forehead, and then did something he didn't expect: he sat down next to him on the bed, brought his legs to his chest, and wrapped his shoulders with an arm, pulling him close, hugging him to his chest, stroking his head to comfort him.

He knew that Terzo was not used to showing affection that clearly; he also knew that at that moment, there was no need to think about it.

"Asshole."

"Terzo..."

"You know you can't handle alcohol." Terzo handed him the freshly prepared tea and brushed his hair away from his face, but Copia brought them back to where they were. It was better to pretend that the tears that occasionally fell from his eyes were just a headache. But Terzo just knew.

"It wasn't just for that... I didn't drink that much..." He complained, sitting cross-legged with his head between his hands and elbows on his knees. He took a quick sip from the cup.

"Do you still think about Lucia?"

Copia paused, and sighed. "You just reminded me why I go to all these parties lately."

"She’s a bitch."

"Not all opinions are necessary, you know?"

"Were you with her again yesterday...? It would be the third time you fall for her bullshit."

Being sixteen is like having a megaphone in your brain that collects information around you and returns it infinitely amplified. Disappointment seems like trauma from which you will never recover, and a broken heart will never heal. Only one thing seems to be blind and deaf to an adolescent's brain: danger.

"No, but I saw her this morning." His face darkened again. "With someone else."

"It happens to everyone sooner or later, it happened to me too." He clumsily tried to console him. "Maybe that's why people here just have sex." Terzo moved his hair away from his face again, and Copia brought them back again. "No one really wants to risk suffering. Maybe they're right."

He really wasn’t the most competent person in comforting a broken hearted, but Copia seemed to reflect on those words, on how sexual freedom was considered a form of self-determination that passed through independence and personal realization, especially emotional. But the truth was that there is no way to control feelings. "I don't think it could be enough for me." he sadly declared.

"You have to learn to manage the bad feelings and enjoy the good ones, then. Love makes people cowards. Are you one?”

They stayed like that for a few minutes, with an empty mind and Terzo's words echoing in his mind. Then Copia did something he didn't expect. He clung to his shirt and without saying anything, collided their lips and pushed towards him immediately deepening that kiss, feeling all the tension loosen in his mouth, as if in that desperate contact there was all the strength he needed.

He continued, closed his eyes, and tilted his head, perfectly matching their lips; Terzo just let him exhaust that outburst of affection, not really responding to the kiss but not even refusing it.

If that was what Copia wanted, if that made him feel better, then he would spend the whole day with his mouth glued to his.

… But maybe no, it wasn't a good idea. Terzo managed to delicately push him away, looking into his eyes, so identical to his, to ensure he was okay.

Copia looked at him as if he didn't realize what he was doing, or maybe he was expecting another reaction. Terzo just pulled him closer, making his head rest under his chin.

"That's not what I meant." he quietly said, patting his shoulders. "Asshole."

II. The Devil can be very patient.

Perhaps it had been a strange twist of fate that one alcohol-filled night found themdancing to "All Apologies" from some stereo light-years away, with a beer bottle each and many others empty at their feet.

The music might have come from the gas station where they had stopped or directly from one of the tour buses where perhaps a ghoul or someone else was listening to that record from the vehicle's stereo. Given their conditions, they would never find out. They laughed, looking at their faces, struggling to stand until they found themselves collapsed on each other, trying to stand in a human position.

Touring with Papa was fun, although it didn't happen often. These were times when they could feel like normal guys for a while, with lives marked by friends, music, travels, and not by rituals, black masses, and the boundaries of the Ministry. As vast as it might be, it always felt too small when it was the only boundary you knew.

Singing and dancing to the music with other people was amazing, like a big party that Terzo knew he would lead one day. For now, they enjoyed life as spectators, then stayed up late to release the adrenaline that robbed them of sleep, somewhere in Europe they could no longer recognize, always on the move.

Terzo had clung with his fragile fingers to the hoodie of the younger one, squeezing his shoulders and hiding his face between Copia's hair, neck, and hoodie fabric, while the younger sought his narrow hips, grabbing them and trying to stand still on those feet that seemed to have a life of their own.

"What else should I be..."

"... What?" Copia had asked, and his voice seemed to have gone away after hours of sleep.

"Listen," Terzo had simply replied, nodding his head in a direction that Copia couldn't follow, given the position. It was "All Apologies" that filled the air, with its scratchy and dragged voice of Cobain, but now it came as a very distant and weak sound. Someone must have had a bad day, it seemed.

"Everyone's gay..." Kurt had sung, and Terzo had let out a crooked laugh, one that doesn't bring any joy but rather unsettles you a bit.

"Eh?"

Terzo had removed some raven locks from his face. "Did you hear that? He says it too... we're all faggots." It was at that moment that he freed himself from the other's grip and picked up the half-empty bottle he had left on the ground. Copia had staggered a bit, as if that loss had destabilized him.

He had observed that dark shadow bend its thin legs and sit on the ground, drinking a few sips.

The square where they had stopped was half-empty, except for the tour buses and other vehicles carrying tour equipment. A concert had ended long ago, and another would be held the next day, while only Kurt's words echoed under a dark night sky.

He had sat down too, next to Terzo. He didn't get too close, he took some distance as if to leave him alone, and started staring at him from there.

It was almost like looking at himself from the outside if he ignored the longer black hair that didn't belong to him. Many times, looking in the mirror, he had wished for those features and that confidence so much that he imagined himself seen like that from the outside, sometimes. If asked to Terzo, he would have probably said the same thing of him.

My dark shadow , Copia called him. As long as he could remember, his presence had always existed in his life.

"... Maybe," he had said only after a while.

Terzo had turned to him but hadn't said anything. "Maybe we are. You certainly are." The little smile that accompanied those words didn't change Copia's expression, who, in response, turned in the opposite direction.

Copia laid down, right there on the ground, crossing his hands behind his head. He stared at the sky, but that intense black told him nothing... nothing more than what Cobain was suggesting from that phantom jukebox turned on who knows where.

He had seen a suspicious shadow approaching, a sinister figure, as dark as that sky, sitting next to him.

"You..." That shadow had started, with a very low voice, “…would you make love to me?"

And Copia hadn't even turned to look at him.

"Don't you ever think about it?" he had added, nibbling on his thumbnail. He stared at his companion under the long lashes.

Copia had shaken his head as if to tell him he was off track and had let out a patient sigh. He had always been patient; he always took so much time to think and to get Terzo's thoughts back on track, too hasty to reason, before acting or opening his mouth.

It hadn't just happened that Terzo woke up one morning thinking that Copia was the most attractive guy he knew and that he really wanted to kiss those lips of his. They hadn't grown up differently than two brothers would, perhaps that's why they had never been able to move forward when, for any reason, their lips had brushed. In any case, no one at the Ministry would be interested, no one could prevent sin from enveloping them, but sometimes not even the devil can get where insecurities and confusion take control of emotions.

Just as the Christian vocation, the satanic one was marked by growth, doubts, errors, and self-awareness. The devil had to be embraced, sometimes recognized and followed. While Christians aimed to alleviate the burden of original sin, Satanists did everything to preserve and exalt it, letting shadows creep in and guide their path.

They still had a long way to go to understand that those moral impediments were what they should fight against and didn't suit two like them. Sooner or later, darkness would fill their minds, shielding them from the prejudices of the external world.

But perhaps it wasn't the right time yet. The devil knows how to be patient.

Copia had started stroking his raven hair, as he used to when they were kids, and his mind wandered into his deepest memories. That time on the couch in front of the TV, those moments pretending to be rockstars in Papa Nihil's studio, the kiss from not long ago. There was still time to look back with nostalgia and wish to return there. However, for some weird defense mechanism, those memories never stayed with them. It was as if their brains decided to erase every compromising memory, and every time it was like nothing had ever happened between them. They never kissed, never found each other attractive, never dreamed of each other until the topic was brought up, and those memories crawled back on their skin.

Terzo had waited for Copia to say something, but the only thing he managed to hear was, "Stop messing with my brain."

Terzo had smiled in his maniacal way; they were both drunk enough to know that they probably wouldn't remember anything the next day. Yet, that was undoubtedly the most opportune moment to receive an honest answer like he had never heard from anyone.

But the answer never came, and still, the darkness loomed above them, full of stars.

III. When Terzo kissed him

The light filtering weakly through the blinds began to irritate his eyes, forcing him to wake up. He blinked a couple of times and looked around, lifting his head slightly.

He glanced at the girl sleeping next to him, with light brown hair falling gently on her face. A girl he had never seen before and would never see again.

She wasn't particularly busty, but she had an admirable body and a face that inspired sweetness and mischief at the same time, not to mention a pair of green eyes.

He observed her one last time before getting out of bed. It had been quite satisfying. A pleasant surprise for her mere 17 years.

He usually avoided being with girls younger than him; there was a risk of finding them inexperienced or too eager to prove how much they knew even without enough experience. He preferred to play it safe, but this time, he had to reconsider her skills. Two years more didn’t make him far more experienced, anyway.

Typically, the people he engaged with inevitably belonged to the clergy, where relationships were consummated in dormitories or makeshift places, in his room or during orgies and rituals. To diversify his sexual diet, he sometimes ventured, mostly in secret, beyond the boundaries of the abbey with some friends, relying on the few contacts outside the Ministry.

In a club or at a friend of a friend’s home, they breathed fresh air and met new faces, not tied to the cult. Then each found a way to spend the night, and they all met in the refectory the next morning to share their experiences. It was a way to find something new and different to talk about and have more exciting experiences out of the monotony of the Ministry.

He searched for his belongings and checked the time on the clock hanging on the wall; it was still very early.

He had just put on his pants when he heard her sleepy voice calling him.

“Mmm... what are you doing?“

He didn't even turn around. “There's a world waiting for me out there, darling.“ he replied dismissively.

“Ah... listen, try not to be seen by my parents, okay? They should still be asleep, but if they see you...“ she sighed tiredly. “Just don't cause me trouble.“ she concluded, throwing her head back on the pillow.

“Understood.“ he said. “They still believe you're a virgin...?“

“And make sure they keep believing it...“

Terzo smiled; he loved those kinds of girls. The ones parents still thought were children, but who already had a respectable career behind them. It made everything more exciting.

There were those little angels who invited you to explore their charms, ending up in their pink-walled bedrooms, and the next day you slipped away without being noticed by their parents because, for them, they were still the innocent little girls who blushed if you complimented them.

If he had thought about it for another minute, he would have asked for her number.

After putting on his T-shirt as well, he approached the window, looking outside. It wasn't high.

“No problem.“ he said calmly. He approached the bed where the girl was still lying, and after giving her a kiss on the forehead, he said goodbye with a “Farewell, sweetness.“ before jumping out of the window, leaving the girl sighing dreamily.

Once back in the Ministry, the smile he had until that moment faded away as a nun reported to him, in a slightly anxious way that wasn't really reassuring, that Papa Nihil was waiting for him in his office.

Terzo took another sip and grimaced as he placed the cup on the refectory table. Scattered on the wood were the remnants of a post-night-out breakfast, with sweet and savory mixed together. It was much later than the usual breakfast hours, but for the Pope's sons and his closest friends, any door was always open, especially the kitchen's.

“Was it a boy or a girl this time?“

“A girl...“

Copia smirked. “Did you take precautions?“ he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, dear...“ to that question, Terzo put his hands on his face, attempting to dodge it. A nearly impossible task since precautions were certainly not the first thing on his mind while being with a girl. In fact, he didn't think about it at all... And Copia knew him all too well.

“Terzo...“ the boy called him sternly.

“No...“ Terzo muttered finally.

Copia rolled his eyes in frustration. He just couldn't get it through his head. The only thing missing was a series of illegitimate heirs who would come forward at the right time.

“Terzo, it's an impor-“

“I know, I know!“ he snapped, straightening up in his chair again. “Sathanas, you've become so boring!“

Copia glared at him. “I'm sorry if I care about you, asshole...“

"I've already heard enough bullshit from my father this morning, I don't need you preaching to me either." Terzo grabbed his head in his hands, as if struggling with a strong headache. "Is it too much to ask for some peace!?"

Copia frowned. Every time Terzo talked about his father, his mood changed. It couldn't be easy being one of the Pope's sons, and apparently, it was even harder to be the least favored one and not do much to improve the situation. "What happened with Papa?"

Terzo simply slumped exhausted onto him, with his head resting on his shoulder, emitting a tired groan. He smelled a different scent on his skin. The scent of another skin, the scent of another person... the scent of sex.

Although he knew Copia had an active sex life, sensing it so clearly left him dumbfounded, as if that awareness had suddenly taken shape in his mind.

He squinted his eyes, gripping a fold of Copia's dress in his hand and pushed more against him.

“Oh, are you okay?“ Copia asked, a bit worried.

“Who was it?“

Copia frowned again. “You wouldn't know him anyway...“

Terzo grabbed one of Copia's books, waiting for the next lesson on the table, and threw it behind them in annoyance.

“What the hell...“ Copia hissed, gripping the wrist of the elder in one hand.

“I asked you who it was...“ Terzo said determinedly, freeing himself.

There was something oppressing his mind and pricking his heart, knowing that Copia had been with someone else that night. It was the first time it had happened, or at least the first time it had happened so intensely. He didn't even have the right to think it. He himself had spent the night with someone, but the idea that Copia had looked at, touched, or kissed someone else now almost hurt him... Perhaps the conversation with his father must have disturbed him in more than one way, and now the boulder of moodiness pressed on him with more than one weight.

“Father Jones... you don't know him...“

It was true; he didn't know him, but he hated him all the same.

Was it jealousy, perhaps? And since when did he feel jealous of Copia? He didn't know. But he knew it wasn't just jealousy if he was now kissing him as if it were the last time he could.

Many more hungry kisses followed, but it wasn't on that occasion that it happened.

A nun just entered the refectory, interrupting them, and with all probabilities, she had seen their lips sealed and their hands firmly framing their faces, but she just acted like she hadn't.

IV. The Devil knows what he does.

It was a more or less ordinary evening, an oversized T-shirt, and a possibly too excited Copia. That's what it took to end up in bed together, and for them to enjoy it. No major reason, no jealousy, no trauma or music, because that's where the Devil lie: in the details.

Of all the occasions the devil could have seized to extend his hand, it happened just when Terzo decided to go to bed wearing one of Copia's loose shirts. It hung on his slender body, concealing his form, though the lower part was barely covered by the hem, leaving the legs exposed from the edge of snug boxers down. A mysterious hide and seek that would lead anyone to a maniacal game of fantasy: 'What could be under that fabric...' and even Copia was not immune to those thoughts. It wasn't the first time he had them, after all.

The position in which he found him, lying in his bed, had sealed the deal. The exposed and crossed legs in a comfortably positioned, unwittingly sexy manner had prompted him to let his gaze slide over them, almost without realizing it. After all, it was just skin... but exposed skin like that can't be so innocent if Copia felt so indifferent by just looking at it.

Terzo, unaware of the thoughts he had sparked in his mind, continued to lie there, staring at the screen of a TV projecting the soft lights of their chosen movie onto his face. Copia approached him somberly, drawn by an unknown force, until he finally sat on the bed, turning his face toward him.

Terzo did the same, expecting some reprimand about wearing something of his. After all, Terzo never liked his clothes; he found them tacky. He always claimed Copia had no sense of style. Despite being a few years younger, Copia was also physically taller and more robust. So why did he want to wear that shirt that evening? Simply because it was comfortable, he should have answered himself.

Yet, Copia had asked himself that question a thousand times, as if that shirt were the cause of everything, and maybe it was. Still, blaming that pile of fabric was simpler than realizing that there was only one culprit. Technically, there would have been two, but credit had to be given to the guiding hand that had been with them since childhood.

Terzo had indifferently brought a hand to his face, nibbling on his thumbnail in a way that made the younger one subtly shiver.

What the Hell, now the nibbling, too?

It all seemed so surreal that Copia didn't even have to explain why he reached out toward his leg, barely brushing the tense muscle of his thigh, reaching the edge of the T-shirt. Terzo's recoil wasn't enough to make him think or even just consider, because if he had, he wouldn't have dared to leave it there and start sliding it along the border of his boxers.

Terzo initially pulled slightly back, staring at him with a perplexed look as if he almost didn't recognize him. He didn't even have the courage to ask him what he was doing, so intense was the gaze he received, from two eyes identical to his own. It was the same look Copia gave him to reassure him that everything would be fine, only... only it was mixed with something more. There was something in that gaze, something he had never seen before; Terzo had never caught in Copia's eyes that indescribable glimmer of an unbearable and dangerous desire.

And Terzo hadn't objected. Honestly, he knew it was strange, but after spending restless nights dreaming of encounters with Copia in every scenario, even though he had learned to deny it even to himself, perhaps that could scare him, but it was exciting enough to embarrass him even just thinking that he wanted that hand to be where he had put it. Perhaps a bit higher.

"Are you still watching the movie...?" he asked, getting slightly closer.

"Nah," Terzo shrugged.

He didn't even bother to stop his eyes from insistently scanning Terzo's entire body, who, in turn, tried to look elsewhere, sure of Copia's eyes that wouldn't detach from him.

Before Terzo could realize it, Copia had already taken his face in one hand, lifting it to reach his own, and forcefully tasted his lips, leaving no room for objections. It had started as a soft touch, but he soon pressed deep, exploring every corner of that mouth that welcomed him with bewilderment but without resistance.

Copia leaned over him without stopping that kiss for a moment. He pushed his mouth forcefully, framing his face with both hands and pushing himself deep until Terzo ended up leaning his head and back against the headboard, beyond which he could not retreat.

Terzo removed his shirt, and for a moment, he stayed there on his knees in front of him, his black hair falling over his eyes, while Copia stared at his slim body with admiration. There was nothing he hadn't seen before, but his body wasn't just there to be watched now; it was an offering.

"Come here..." Copia enveloped him in his arms, his hands caressing him tenderly, feeling the warmth of their bare skin in contact, and his palms tracing the muscles of their backs. There were more kisses, and after those kisses, only frantic movements and moans.

Terzo had held his face before in his hands, but in that moment, all the gestures they may have shared before came with a new meaning, mixing with new ways of touching they had never dared to try... like caressing the half-erected cock free from the underwear he had just slid down from Copia's thighs.

Soon, there was no more space for words or explanations.

There was nothing particularly romantic in the way Terzo looked up at him, as to look at his expression one last time before getting his cock in his mouth, after having stroked it to fully harden it, to taste his sex the way he had done with countless others but never with him.

Copia’s head leaned back against the bed frame for a moment, hissing at the sensation, then returned to look down at the black haired head moving on his groin. His hand guided him but there was no need for how skilled his movements felt. It was impossible not to enjoy his soft tongue caressing his most sensible spots in a so dedicated way, feeling it twirling around his tip or lingering around his base with wet kisses, then sliding all the way up again.

“It feels so nice��” Copia tilted his head back again and began to lightly push his hips forward in his mouth, hearing the brunette's soft, muffled moans that made him even harder. “Oh… so nice…” and maybe it was knowing how much Terzo enjoyed having sex that made sex with him so satisfying. Copia would have learned in time that it was Terzo’s way to treat you like the most precious and tasteful treat that made the nights spent with him that unforgettable.

Right when Copia thought he was going to come in his mouth, Terzo stopped, leaving him breathless and confused with his back against the bed frame.

“For as much as I want to drink you, I don’t want you to end like this.” he said, getting on his knees again, but Copia seemed to ignore his words. He started with a “Let me…” but he couldn’t even finish the sentence for how quickly he bent and filled his own mouth with Terzo’s cock.

Terzo consented, caressing his hair, while his mouth opened in a graceful “o” at the sensation of his warm lips around him. “I won’t last long…” he whispered soon after, moving to free himself from Copia’s mouth, sitting on the bed and bringing Copia’s face to his for a greedy kiss. “I want to fuck you.” He said, grabbing him by his chin with one hand “I really want to.”

There was something thrilling about being treated like a regular sexual partner by him, Copia had to admit. It was like adding a new shade to their relationship he never experienced before. With anticipation he let him guide his body, making him do what he could have only imagined him doing to his lovers. His caresses were guiding him closer, the hands on his hips gently led him to sit, adjusting on his groin with progressively decreasing decency. Copia moved, and each movement provoked new levels of pleasure, until Terzo found himself inside him while he, panting and moaning, begged him to never stop. And he only did when Copia finally collapsed on him, trembling and sweaty; a sticky but happy mess. Terzo’s hand firmly on the back of his head was keeping it in the crook of his neck, breathing in each other’s hair; the other hand was holding on the skin on his waist in a way he’d have seen on some renaissance statues.

In the moments following what happened, perhaps they should have only hoped that everything remained imprinted forever on the walls of that room, never to be remembered. They should have hoped that the images that unfolded that night would no longer revisit them, let alone repeat. But once that boundary was crossed with someone, there was no way back. One day, they would probably cross paths in the corridors of the Abbey and avoid each other, or their respective commitments and careers would consume that relationship, inevitably pitting them against each other in a power play from which it would be impossible to escape.

Copia was stretched out on him, with one leg hooked around his waist and Terzo's hand holding his side, caressing it slowly from time to time.

After many moments where the only thing reaching their ears was their light breath on their skin, Copia felt the need for something they had never done until that moment: talk.

"Terzo..." he began with a low, gentle voice.

"Hmm?"

"There's something I've been wondering... and I often wonder about it..." he paused just to make sure Terzo was listening. "Do you think all of this was here before?"

Terzo was staring at the ceiling. "If we could have done this before, you mean?" he asked, doubtful.

"No..." Copia lifted his head slightly, resting it on his hand and facing him, lying on his side. "I mean, it's like it has always been here, but we didn't know... do you understand?"

Terzo turned his face to look at him, eyebrows furrowed in uncertainty. "In what sense?"

"I mean, do you remember what we used to do as kids?"

"But that doesn't matter..." he downplayed. "We didn't even know what we were doing."

When they were still small enough to get away with it, Copia always found ways to get Terzo's attention, curling up against him at night and enjoying the warmth and caresses of the elder... Copia always wondered how long they could continue to be together that way. He always wondered if, as they grew up, all those cuddles and attention would disappear.

When the cuddles from childhood turned into adult needs, they decided it was something they could no longer afford and pretended they could be fine without listening to that feeling growing as much as they tried to suppress it.

Copia laid on him again, tapping his fingers on his chest. That was one of the rare moments when he felt truly serene, and just lying next to Terzo, tapping his fingers on his chest, was enough for him. He thought about how many times he could have been so serene and hadn't been, if it was really that simple.

"I mean... do we know it now?" he asked with his face on Terzo's shoulder, raising his gaze to see what his expression was.

He was mostly pensive as he stared at the ceiling above their heads, but he seemed serene as well.

"Do you know?" Terzo asked him. "I do." He turned toward him to show that it wasn't a lie.

Copia let out a smile, sliding his hand from Terzo's chest to his neck, turning him to graze his lips.

Deep down, they knew they had done something terribly wrong, but they couldn't blame themselves for it; they didn't feel that way. And that's what scared them the most.

Yet, that had been the first time that sex had truly made sense. The naturalness with which they found themselves, once again, breathing the same air and sharing the same warmth, could only make them feel more secure and calm than they had ever been.

Was this how everything transformed when you finally opened the doors to the absence of sin?

Then there was no more room for anything else... except for silence and the night.

"Let’s sleep now..."

#ghost band #the band ghost fanfiction #copiiia #terzo x copia #terzo x oc #copia x oc #terzo emeritus #young terzo #young copia #copia #Copiiia fanfiction

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rumple04 · 1 year

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Alchemy & Late Shows

OS Reader x Christoph Waltz

(Only fluff, no smut)

Inspired by “Emotional Interview” by @headoverhiddles

You are late to the studios of Jimmy Kimmel's Late Show. The traffic jams on the streets of New York got the better of your organization. You hate arriving late, especially when you are not responsible for it. Hair in the wind you hurry to join your dressing room so that the make-up artists try to hide your drawn features due to fatigue. Tonight, like every past and upcoming nights this week, you have to promote a film in which you shot. Yesterday you were alone against David Letterman, tonight at Jimmy Kimmel's and tomorrow at Jimmy Fallon's. Fortunately, tonight and tomorrow you are not alone since you are accompanied by your co-star Christoph Waltz. It is also the moment you come out of your dressing room perfectly prepared with a bun that you see it waiting in the backstage, tapping from the heel.

- Hi Christoph, you say as you approached to kiss him.

- Hi y/n, how are you?

- I was stuck in traffic jams at the height of Grande Avenue, I thought I would never arrive on time ! And you?

- I would rather be everywhere else than here, in fact. But I'm glad to see you.

You blush at these last words. You've been blushing for months at every sweet attention of your co-star. And, in fact - you've been trying for months to hide what you feel deep inside.

- Everywhere else, are you sure? Even in the burger restaurant where Joe (Whrite, the director of the film you just shot) brought us to last week?

- ... don't say that. But really, Kimmel's interviews...

- I know... Get ready, tomorrow is Fallon’s one.

- Dear me...

You know how much, Christoph hates these big Late Show, you don't like them so much either. Like him, promoting your work is not what you like to do the most, but you can't help but have a certain enthusiasm for sharing these shows with him. A man approaches to hang the microphones on your clothes. Christoph is always perfectly dressed. You think that you haven't seen him a single day badly dressed since you worked with him. Perfectly ironed shirt, perfectly cut pants, well-cut suit shirt. You're not bad either with your fitted blouse and your long high-waisted skirt. Without consulting you before, your outfits are in the same shade of color. Another man signals us not to speak anymore because our microphones are activated, and in the same movement we are invited to move forward. You hear Kimmel announce:

- And now, I know that you expect them as much as I do. They are featured in the new drama period by Joe Whrite: Pride and Prejudice. A thunder of cheers for y/n and Christoph Waltz!

You walk on the stage, a polite smile for Christoph, a shy smile for you. Christoph signals you to sit down first, to which you answer a complicit smile towards the audience with a hand wave to mimic a fan.

- Ah Christoph, always so polite! I must tell you that I’m really happy to receive you tonight, says Kimmel when the public stopped the applause.

- And we are delighted to be there, you hasten to reply.

-Yes, we will say that, adds Christoph, winning the laughter of the public.

- But I hope you are happy to be there! This is not the first time you have come Christoph since I had the pleasure of welcoming you a few months ago for the release of Django Unchained, and you there some time ago for the release of Sense and Sensibility.

- Indeed, you answer.

- I saw your film, of course, and what a pleasure to see you both shoot together! What an alchemy! Did you like to play together?

- No, really not. I can't stand the presence of y/n. Ironizes Christoph, still winning the laughter of the public.

- Really? Ask for dazed Kimmel.

- Stupid question, stupid answer, adds Christoph, crossing his legs.

You smile at him timidly and look at yourself a few seconds before you decide to add:

- No, you’re right. We really enjoyed working on this project.

- And it shows, precisely we have a small excerpt to show you! Answer Kimmel by turning to the camera.

The screen above us then shows the first images that your production communicated for the promotion.

"You appear reading letters in an Old England-style living room. You hear ringing and get up. A maid opens the door and reveals Christoph who seems confused, stressed and eager.

- Forgive me. I hope you are better, he says, walking mechanically towards the fireplace with the missing air.

- I'm better, thank you. Aren't you going to sit down? Answer by sitting near the living room table.

He doesn't answer you and an embarrassing silence takes place. He remains standing as stressed as ever. He looks in turn at the emptiness and your eyes, then he takes the hundred steps. His discomfort is really palpable and you look at him not knowing what to say. He wants to say something but seems sick at the idea of opening his mouth. He sits down not letting go of your eyes. Then gets up. Finally, after a fierce internal struggle, he declares:

- In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.

You remain speechless for several seconds in silence. He adds:

- By declaring myself in this way, I am fully aware of speaking against the judgment of my family, my friends, and I must say it - of my own judgment. The respective situations of our families are such that an alliance between you and me could only be perceived as highly reprehensible by society. My reason dictates me to consider it as such but I don't bring myself to it. No sooner had I met you than I felt an admiration and a passionate inclination for you that, despite my efforts - defeated any rational objection. I therefore beg you fervently to put an end to my suffering by agreeing to become my wife.

Eyes full of tears, you don't answer right away. Christoph is standing in front of you, in faith relieved to have delivered his burdens but at the same time anxious to see you not answer him right away. You finally answer:

- In such circumstances, I think it is customary to express gratitude, to feel gratitude. But I can't.

Christoph's shoulders sag slightly. He is hanging from your lips and it seems that this last sentence surprises and hurts him deeply. You add:

- I have never desired your affection and it is even reluctantly that you give it to me. I regret having caused you trouble but I did it unintentionally and I hope it will be short-lived, you add.

A heavy silence takes place in the room. He turns his back on you and joins the chimney on which he leans for a few seconds. Then straightens up. He is upset by your answer and turns to you.

- So this is the whole answer I would have the honor to receive. Can I at least know why I am repulsed with so little politeness?

- And can I know why with the obvious intention of offending me, insulting me you come to tell me that you love me against your will, against the concern of your reputation? ».

The screen turns off and you are covered with applauds from the public and Kimmel.

- Wow! It's breathtaking. What is the effect of dismiss Christoph?

You laugh and seem embarrassed. Christoph smiles gently and says nothing.

- This is only possible because it is written on the script, in fact ! You say by not daring to turn to your co-star.

- And you Christoph, how does it feel to be put back in place by y/n?

- My heart was just as broken as Mr. Darcy's, he replied to the heated applause of the public.

You laugh to hide the embarrassment you feel. You know that Christoph is joking, he always does it, but deep down you would like him to be simply delivering the bottom of his thought. Kimmel then adds to close the show:

- I am really delighted to discover you together in this new adaptation of Pride and Prejudice and I hope it marks the first collaboration in a long series. Ladies and gentlemen, y/n and Christoph Waltz!

You leave the stage and Christoph hastens to get rid of his microphone. You go side by side to your respective dressing rooms and he declares:

- Frankly, what did this interview bring? No relevant questions.

- It's true... you know that's what the public is always looking for. Showmen simply respond to the demand.

- You're right...

It stops at the height of your dressing room and you look at yourself for a few seconds. He adds:

- I would have invited you to eat somewhere but tomorrow is as busy for you as it is for me.

- Yes, unfortunately I think it would be wiser for us to go to bed early enough tonight. But we can see it at the end of the week, it would be a pleasure.

He doesn't answer, just smiles at you. He takes your hand and puts a kiss on it.

- See you tomorrow y/n.

———

Indeed, the day that awaits you is not easy. Each on your side has several trays to turn for the promo. It is only in the evening that you finally find yourself in Jimmy Fallon's studios. This is the last interview you have to give on your program. Unlike the day before you arrive early on site and while you are heading to your dressing room, some members of the technical team stop you to ask you for autographs and selfies.

- I'm really a fan of what you do. I love Jane Austen's adaptations and I find that your work really pays tribute to her, throws you a woman of engineer.

- Thank you very much, it's really nice!

- Can I ask you something?

- Yes, of course.

- Is... Christoph Waltz as grumpy as he lets it seem?

You can't help but let out a laugh. It's true that Christoph gives this impression. Moreover, he gives a lot of his person to always seem grumpy and sarcastic. However, this is not the attitude you know him on the set and behind the scenes. You don't want to undermine all the hard work of your co-star and you answer:

- He is adorable, but yes he is often grumpy!

The whole team laughs and with these words you enter your dressing room. It is only several minutes later, and after an intense makeup session that someone knocks on your door.

- Come in!

- So like that I'm grumpy? Announce Christoph by theatrically entering your dressing room.

- Wow, definitely the information circulates well here!

- Am I grumpy?

- I also said you were adorable!

- I hope so!

He smiles maliciously and comes to put a kiss on your forehead.

- We have to go, the team is waiting for us to put on the microphones, he says kindly.

You finish hanging your earring, you get up and you follow him. The team puts the microphones on you and just before he turns them on you touch Christoph's arm by whispering to him:

- Come on, it's the last one!

He smiles at you gently by placing his hand on yours. You don't have time to feel your heart beating the chamade you hear Jimmy Fallon announce to you.

- You loved him in Inglorious Basterds, and you loved her in Sense and Sensibility! They form an iconic couple in Joe Whrite's new adaptation of Pride and Prejudice! Ladies and gentlemen, I have the pleasure to welcome y/n and Christoph Waltz!

As the day before you enter the stage under a thunder of applaud and as the day before Christoph shows gallantry by letting you sit first. You find your colleague more relaxed than the day before.

- Wow! You are both beautiful, begins Fallon with a glittering smile. I'm really delighted to see you here!

- Same! You answer with a polite smile.

- You are definitely subscribed to the roles of the drama periods, aren't you?

- Maybe well, indeed. I'm not going to complain about it, it's an area that I really like both in audiovisual and literature.

- You Christoph, it's the first time we have seen you in this register. How does it feel to have played the legendary Mr. Darcy?

- It's...somewhat unexpected. I did not expect to one day be led to play such a "British" role as this one.

- And yet! You are brilliant in this role. Would you be interested in continuing to shoot films in this same register?

- I didn't know how to oppose it. What interests me is the story that a director has to tell. As long as I like the script and is good, I'm always in.

- The alchemy between the two of you is powerful. Did it feel on the set ?

Christoph lets you answer, his head slightly bent and a shy smile digging the wrinkle of his cheek.

- Uh... I think so. In any case, it's true that I had never felt such complicity on a set, you answer timidly.

The audience whistles at this statement and the musical group on the set plays some sexy notes. Fallon reacts:

- Wouuu! It's hot this way! Have you seen what is being said on social medias about you?

- Dear lords, answers Christoph. I don't have social medias and it's very good for me.

The audience laughs for several seconds after which you add.

- I'm on Twitter, but I was careful not to show him what is said there, you reply laughing behind your hand, timidly.

- It's very good because I have here some incredible tweets that concern you both.

- My god... answer Christoph by collapsing on his chair.

- Come on, I'm starting!

On the screen above them displays a screen of tweets :

"Who would have thought that an adaptation of Pride and Prejudice would be as hot as that of @y/n and Christoph Waltz?! ”

"Thank you @JoeWhrite for bringing us together @y/n and Christoph Waltz on a set! I don't know if I ship more Elizabeth Bennet and Darcy or literally the two actors! ”

"Joe Whrite: You're going to play the mythical couple of Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy!

Literally Y/n & Christoph Waltz being the hottest couple of Jane Austen's universe. ”

You couldn't be more red and more delighted than right now. You turn - enthusiastic - to Christoph who against all odds wears a small satisfied smile. Jimmy Fallon notices it and adds on top of the enthusiastic applause of the audience:

- You see, there are not only bad things on social medias!

- I’m certainly satisfied to have done my job correctly, he answers a little timidly.

- You are incorrigible! But you are not as reserved on other TV sets. Replica Fallon bursting with laughter. I have a small excerpt to refresh your memory.

"On the same screen appears an excerpt from Christoph on Ellen DeGeneres' set. The latter declares:

- You have great complicity with y/n, it's quite striking on the screen. Did you feel it on the set?

- Yes, in fact I must admit that I even have a big crush on her...

Christoph smiles slightly and Ellen opens her mouth wide laughing to the applause of an amused audience. ”

- What do you have to declare in your defense, applies Jimmy Fallon?

- Absolutely nothing, answers Christoph with a smile.

- And you there y/n?

- You will never be able to laugh at Christoph, you say, turning to him.

He looks at you with great complicity and puts his hand on yours. Fallon does not pay attention to it and starts the end of the interview.

- You can find these two lovebirds on the bill of Joe Whrite's latest film Pride and Prejudice of which here is a short trailer. Thank you for coming tonight!

Under the applause you get up and go behind the scenes. You do not dare to speak while you reach your dressing rooms. As you approach yours, Christoph approaches you and asks you:

- Do you feel like coming to dinner with me tonight?

- With pleasure, Christoph...

You find him disturbed, and gently you put your hand on his arm:

- Is everything all right?

He looks at your hand on his arm and in the same movement grabs it and kisses you tenderly. You feel all your muscles relax one after the other. You realize that for several months now, your whole body has been tense and was only waiting for that. He barely detaches himself from you and whispers:

-I'm sorry... I've wanted to do this for a while.

- Don't apologize, I've been dreaming about it for months.

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therealpontius · 1 year

Text

Romeo and Juliet

Plot: mtv is hosting a huge party which your sworn enemies (to the public eye) will be attending too

Warnings: drug misuse/alcoholism/public sex (not reader)/ no smut involving reader

Mtv. Fame. Money. Jackass. Street cats.

"Hey you ready?" Your friend sadie asked, slipping on her heels.

When jackass first started it raised all the little boys ego, dressing and acting like the idiots that flung themself around on tv every saturday night. You and your friend group got pretty sick of the whole 'boys will be boys' situation knowing if you done it you would be called 'wreckless whores'. At first no one was intrested but as soon as the female audience of jackass heard of the new show 'street cats' they went crazy, devouring every last peace they could. Tonight was a stupid mtv party they were hosting for all the popular stars to show up to, ozzy osbourne would be there so you were beyond exited.

"Totally, never been more ready" you wore low waisted blue jeans with a tight crop top and hoop earrings. "We are going to fucking kill it, the girls are waiting so we better be fast" with that you stood up, feeling more pretty that ever before, your blonde hair warm against your cheeks from recently straightening it. You and sadie left the room to see pam, dolly and oprah sitting in the hall, beers sitting in each one of their hands "hey girl!" Oprah greeted you, standing up with the rest "you all look stunning, we are going to kick those idiots asses tonight!" You said enthusiastically to lighten the mood. Jackass was much more popular but that didnt mean you guys werent better, and hotter.

As you entered the red carpet, looking around at the multiple drug addicts that posed like they were the face of america, you got yourself prepared to get shitfaced and have either the best or worst night of your life. "Hey street cats!" A interview shouted your attention. More interviewers noticed so it gave you the opportunity to get interviewed separately. "Hey y/n! Hows your night going?" "Yeah good so far, just arrived!" "Thats great, you look amazing! Who are you the most exited about meeting tonight?" "Thankyou! Definitely ozzy osbourne, big inspiration for me growing up" "same here sister! Who are you least exited to meet?" You thought for a moment and brought yourself closer to the mic as if to tell the audience a secret that no one else knows. "Dont tell anyone but the jackass boys" you laughed alittle and backed away "thats all the questions i got, have a good night!"

As you walked around you couldnt see the girls, 'they probably just gone off to mingle' you thought, looking round the crowd to see if you noticed anyone. You flinched feeling a double tap on your shoulder, turning round with a smile that quickly dropped at the smug smile of the western hunk. "Heya doll!" "Hey johnny, can i help?" He smiled down at you only making you resent him more. "Just wanting to talk! Good luck for later becuase we are totally going to kick your ass at the drinking competition steve-os holding for us" you crossed your arms, feeling cameras take pictures of you both. "Yeah? And who said you are? You are your side hoes are weak." Johnny let out a forced laugh, bam appearing next to him "bam! Bam! Did you hear what she said?" Bam shook his head and smiled at anticipation "she called you my side hoe and said we are weak!" They both fake laughed, clutching their stomachs "your fake laughs dont phase me boys" "doubt is sweetheart, your only a little girl of course they are. You only started this 'street tramps' thing to copy us! You seek our validation!" Bam said, johnny nodding along "'street cats' you bafoon. Now piss off, ill see you later when i out drink your asses" you stormed away "yeah whatever!" Bam shouted behind you.

20 minutes later the scene had got much more busy and you managed to meet up with the girls, telling them about the competition steve-o was holding. At first they shut it down but as they thought about it more you all decided to atleast try with the chance of embarrassing them all. "Oh my god! Ozzy! Hes here!" You squeal "well girl its your scene, we will wait here you go meet him!" Dolly said, shoving you towards him. "Hello mr osbourne!" You greet him with your hand "what is this? Fucking meeting the queen? Call me ozzy love" he smiled shaking your hand roughly "i see you on the screen, kellys a big fan!" "Thats great to hear man, we arent particularly a public favourite" you laugh, he laughs along too "neither am i!". "Holy shit ozzy?" A deep voice sounds behind you both, you and the older rock star turn your heads to see chris pontius standing in a thong and bunny ears. "You look like a fucking clown!" Ozzy laughs, taking in his whole look. Chris giggles and playfully jumps up and down "ozzy! Can we borrow you for a minute?" An interviewer shouted over, ozzy nodded in response leaving you and chris.

Chris had never really said anything to you before, you hadnt really said anything to him either. "Hey im chris pontius!" He greeted smiling, his smile made you smile you just couldnt help it. "Arent you supposed to hate me?" You ask, laughing alittle "i dont hate women, they make the world go around" he smiled, making you blush alittle "plus your hot!" Your cheeks glow red "likewise". You both share eyecontact that lasted a second too long "chris there you are i thought you- oh whats she doing here!" "Getting in the way is what shes doing, move lady we have some hard core drinking to do" chris brushed past you with his hand in steve-os shoulder. The girls walked up to you cocking their eyebrows "what the fuck was that? I havent seen you look at a man like that since thomas?" Pam asked, flicking your shoulder "i made him think he was worth me, plus these cameras are going to eat it up if we have a squabble. They did with johnny and bam so i just dont want anymore negative storys going around about me" you lied but your friends believed you, hooking your arms with theirs and walking into the huge party.

A couple of hundred booths sat, stars drinking their memory away or shoving powder up their nose in the most obvious way possible. "Its stinks like shit in here" sadie pointed out, yours moods sorta being killed. "Ladys over here!" Steve-o called out from behind you "hey o' " sadie winked jokingly. She had a one night stand with him awhile ago and knew he regretted it. "Hey sade... you girls ready?" Steve-o asked while you all sat down. Chris sat next to you, the booth was huge and curved giving all of you plenty of room. "WAITOR! Two rounds of your strongest shot!" Wee man demanded like he was royalty. "So what you girls been up to? Shopping?" Ryan asked, cocking his eyebrow "no ryan, we are thinking of new skits" dolly said calmly "'how much money can we spend in an hour?'" Bam laughed "very funny brandon, no we are going skating in an abandoned water park" pam rolled her eyes, probably regretting agreeing to drink with these bafoons. "Thats so badass i almost fell asleep hearing about it" ehren rolled his eyes "shut up danger! What do you do anyways? Prance around in a pink skirt? Safety first? So badass of you" he blushed alittle in embarrassment "exactly" "here you go" the waiter smiled, resting the tray down before you all.

You all equally took your two shots and rested them before you, looking round for Steve-o to call out when to start. "Ready ladys?" Steve-o asked cockily "always" sadie butted in "THREE TWO ONE" all at the same time you downed your shots, groaning at the bitter and flaming taste creeping down your throats. Sadie never reacted, drinking so much it was hardly ever enough anymore. "WAITOR. TWO MORE FOR US" she shouted out, making the boys groan "MAKE IT FOUR" steve-o joined in, enjoying the challenge. "So hows your night been?" Chris asked trying to make conversation "fucking fabulous, apart from when i met this guy earlier. TOTAL dick. You?" "Same here, but a girl" he giggled, making you roll your eyes.

The doubled shots arrived and you all got you your own four, looking at them like a kid who was being fourced to drink sour cough syrup. "THREE TW-" "TWO ONE" Sadie interupted steve-o making him look at her in discust. You all downed the four, a few coughing and gagging "fuck sake" you complained, running your hands down your face. "Too much for you? Your lady instincts are kicking in, better stick to a cheeky glass of wine" chris winked, with instinct you brought your fist down to his crotch harshy making him yelp "FOUR MORE" you scream, the boys laughing at chris who kept his head rested on the table

Once again you all sat with four infront of you, downing them when steve-o and sadie counted to one. "Fucking mingin!" Bam exaggerated, flailing his hands around "what even is in this?" Chris asked, looking at the small amount of liquid that sat at the bottom of the shot glass, it was thick and a dark brown colour. "Whatever it is, its workin alright" wee man laughed.

There was sort of a friendship feel between street cats and jackass, like tom and jerry. Tom never really hated jerry but just pretended so that he is not replaced, much like how the street cats pretend to hate jackass so that they can stay relevant and not be replaced with another (shitty) reality show since the views were so low.

Ten shots down and the drink hit you like a brick in the face, holy shit that cough syrup was STRONG. "This will continue im just gunna, just gunna stick to the beer" johnny slurred slightly, no one judging since they were all the same. Johnny, wee man and ehren headed to the bar leaving ryan, bam, steve-o and chris. "Why did you guys start the street tramps?" Bam asked, wanting to get a rise out of you again. "Because we are sick of people acting funny only being allowed for boys, girls can be funny too" oprah argued, bringing her pointed finger down onto the table and ignoring bams very obvious attempt at making her yell. "I think its pretty hot, just not you guys stealing our material and adding dish washers to it" steve-o shrugged, laughing to himself. "Misogynistic pig!" Sadie raised her voice, throwing one of the plastic shot glasses at steve-os head "ay fucking watch it!" He warned, slamming his hands off the table. You sighed, laying your head back wanting everyone just to calm down for once

"i wish they could just fuck again and get it over with" chris said next to your ear making you jump slightly "what?" "Cant you see it?" You both turned to face steve-o and sadie who sat staring at eachother like they were going to go for eachothers throats while everyone else was in their own conversations. "Theres too much sexual tension, i say they should just fuck, again, and get it over with" you scoff and then pause alittle "yeah your right to be honest" "always am" "well not exactly", you argue back, turning to face him. "How come?" He raised his brow, a slight smirk on his face "well what was that shit earlier, 'i could never hate a woman, they make the world go around' or some bull shit like that" he just shrugged obviously not getting what you were getting at " 'move lady' ?" He smirks alittle now understanding "what? Your a lady and i was asking you to move" "yeah. Sure-" "just admit it! Your obsessed with me!" Sadie shouted to steve-o, they looked like a mirror of eachother, standing with hands rested on the desk, angry drunk faces and both craving more drink. "Obsessed!? Your crazy!" Steve-o shouted back "oh for fuck sake calm down!" Ryan shouted over steve-o pushing him down by his sholders "if you guys are so fucking angry them just fuck the anger out, it works and we would get to have conversations that are not interrupted by two drunk psychos" he spoke again, rolling his eyes. "PSYC-" you instantly stood up and covered sadies mouth, she had clearly been drinking well before the party "sadie shut up, shut the fuck up" you whispered to her a warning and her eyes met yours, a sorry look on her face. "Just sit down, we wont be with him all evening" she nodded into your hand and sat down.

"Hello ladys!" Johnny said enthusiastically, plopping down a tray full with shots infront of him "four each" "look i really dont think that sadie and steve-o should be drinking anymore" you advise him "nice excuse but if shes out then the whole competition is over, we will win doll" you glance over to the rest of the girls to silently decide "give us the shots knoxville" pam laughs, earning four of the thick black shots placed infront of her. Ehren, wee man and johnny all sat down again. "Shit this is horrific" chris muttered to you, sensing you feeling the same way towards the pathetic competition. "THREE TWO ONE" steve-o called, all you you throwing the liquid down your throats, the burning feeling that you all decided to forget about coming back. Ehren and bam dry heaved alittle and dolly put her head in her hands "fuck! Thats so discusting" johnny laughed, looking around at everyones vile reactions. "ANOTHER FOUR" steve-o called out making you all gasp alittle "hey.. o' maybe we should calm down alittle" chris advises earning a dirty look from his best friend "what? Are you weak?" He said with a tone of disgust "exactly FOUR MOR-" steve-o cut off his demanding when a waitor placed down the tray without care and rolled her eyes at steve-o.

"Man i really dont think i can.." wee man complained, holding his chest "stop being a pussy!" Oprah joked, taking her own four off already. "THREE TWO ONE" steve-o called again, heads slowly drank the shot, feeling ill with it. "Hey babes im off to go party" dolly said, grabbing her bag, as if the boys forgot that this was a party not just a bar they light up, getting up aswell. You sat behind while they all ran away to gather yourself "not your scene?" You heard chris's voice again "chris why do you keep trying to talk to me?" He held his hand to his heart "ouch? You just look like a fun person, or an uptight bitch. What one are you?" He asks, challenging you "fuck, your a persuasive guy" you say sarcastically , he holds his hand up to you and helps you to your feet, both stumbling to the crowd of people who danced.

You and chris danced like fools to the music that played loudly u till your eye caught onto sadie who slowly inched to the bathroom, hand in steve-os "chris!" You gasped, grabbing his forearm "look!" You walked alittle closer towards the two but not close enough for them to notice "holy shit they are totally going to bang, steve-o has that crazy look in his eyes" the two ran into the bathroom, chris now grabbed your forearm and ran towards the door. It felt odd to be snooping in on your friends private life but, its fun. After two minutes of pushing past stubborn drunk people you met the door, smoke came from the bottom and it stank of weed, sadie moaned louder than you ever heard. "Holy shit they are really going for it" chris giggled deeply, you noticed his growing arousal in his tiny thong but chose to ignore it. "Cmon bunny lets go do something" you smile, stealing his bunny ears and placing them on your own head "something? What do you mean?" You could tell he was hoping that you ment sex but instead you too him to the top floor.

It was quite and chill, dimly lit with a good few candles. This was the smoking area but no one really went by the rules. You got cosy on a bean bag that sat next to a window, patting the one next to you for him to sit down. "How the fuck did you know about this?" He smiled, looking around at the few rockstars who sat smoking a joint "i had a look at the venue before hand so i knew the best places" "well..." chris fished his hand into his thong making you gasp abit and look around "here" he pulled out a little plastic bag that had two joins in it "i kept them in the pocket at the bottom" he held one out to you, hesitant, you picked it up with the tip of your fingers "oh cmon its not that bad, ive been told my dick tastes quite nice" he said matter of factly, getting up and walking towards what looked like a high out his face nikki sixx. "Nikki... nikki" chris repeated untill the mans face was staring up at him, nikki had been in contact with steve-o and had talked to the boys so chris wasnt star struck.

"Dude, what the fuck are you wearing" "my uniform... can i borrow your lighter?" Nikki rolled his eyes and gave chris his lighter with a smile "there. Give it back." Chris strutted back over to you, passing you a black lighter that had 'sixx' ingraved on the side. "Thanks" you tried to hide the fact your heart was racing at the thought of nikki only a few seconds away, and lit your blunt, passing the lighter back to chris who done the same.

"The alcohol is really making its way to my brain" you laughed, trying to keep your head in place "yeah man ive got to a stage where i can just cope when im drunk, all that drinking with steve-o has REALLY taken its toll" you both laugh loosely, taking a hit of your blunts. It was dark by now and rain hit quietly off the window, the music from downstairs faded onto a blur. "Its mad thinking how thats nikki sixx" you finally said, looking over to the passed out man "yeah but hes just like us... famous" chris giggled blowing smoke into your face "its crazy thinking we have people who want to be us" you add making him think "like im an Inspiration to kelly osbourne" his eyes widened "really? Im an Inspiration to every demon spawn child" "i saw a child wearing the party boy track suit with these on the other day" you point to the ears that still sat contently on your head. "Thats cute, i wanna have children one day and raise them to be the most respectful little people i can" he said looking out the window "yeah right, your kids are going to be devils" "no no im being serious, i want them to be more respectful than i have been tonight, im sorry" he nodded to you as if to tell you 'im being serious' "well thats okay, atleast you gave me a penis blunt" you smile, taking another long draw. "Heh. Penis blunt".

Your blunts both finished and the conversation got less frequent "you think theyd be done banging now?" Chris asks, making you think of what he ment for a second "ofcourse its been like what, an hour? Lets go see" you both stood up to head for the stairs, nikki wasnt there anymore so you slipped the lighter into your pocket hoping to have your own little souvenir. As the party music became louder and the number of people became more frequent chris held your hand so that he didnt loose you. "Lets head for the bathroom" he practically shouted. As quick as possible you both made it to the bathroom and held your ear to the door "DARYL I DIDNT CHEAT IT JUST FELL IN" you heard a clearly intoxicated woman shout, chris bursting out laugh "fuck where is everyone?" You slightly panic, moving your body closer to his arm. He turned his head away blushing slightly at the close contact.

"Hey there they are" chris said into your ear, your eyes focused of johnny who was shamelessly grinding against the girl who danced infront of him. "Knox?" You questioned, tapping his shoulder. The lanky man jumped "oh hey doll, just um. Kinda in the middle of something" he said uncomfortably, rubbing his neck. The woman got bored and walked away, making his brows furrow "clearly... get the group together we need to do more shots, we will meet you at the booth" johnny rolled his eyes and nodded seeing the two of you walk back to where you were sat not long ago.

"Y/NNNNN" sadie cried, walking ahead of the group, she got into the booth and sobbed into your shoulder. "Sadie? Everything okay honey?" "Ill go get the shots" johnny said, slipping away from the uncomfortable moment. Everyone watched in amusement at sadie crying into you "I JUST THOUGHT YOU WERE GONE, I THOUGHT YOU DIED" she cried harder "sadie i was away smoking pot"her cries stopped and backed up, looking into your eyes "without me?" "Without you babe im sorry" "drinks!!" Johnny beamed, resting a bigger tray down "six each, had to up the anti" he winked, passing out everyones shots. You all stared at them in horror "no fucking way dude" ryan muttered, your livers all burning like hell.

"THREE TWO ONE" steve-o called, slowly you all drank the six shots until "OH FUCK WEE MAN" johnny gasped, wee man had thrown up on his lap meaning the street cats won "YES YES YES YES" you all squealed "THATS NOT FAIR" steve-o shouted "HES SMALL HIS TOLERANCE IS LOW" "fuck you!" Wee man spat, heading for the bathroom. "Steve. calm down" chris warned, looking at him intensely "well fuck you all if your going to let some house wifes win!" He stormed off killing the mood. "Sorry girls, well done honestly" ryan smiled "yeah man i could never do that" ehren laughed. “Is it just me who wants to keep drinking?” Chris whispered into your ear, you stiffle a laugh and nod.

You both reached the bar that had multiple musicians and actors laughing drunkly. “Four beers and…” “four ciders please” you order, the drinks were free of charge for some stupid reason. “You know, tonights been a great night chris” you realise, giving him a soft smile “ive really enjoyed it, a sin your a street cat though or i totally wouldve wifed you up by now” he rolls his eyes playfully, nodding a thanks to the bartender who sat down the icy cold cans. “Yeah… shame, total romeo and juliet situation… minus the sleeping pills and suicide” this made chris giggle and take a break to drink his beer, you cracked open a cider and began drinking it too.

Life on mars by david bowie started playing from the small bar, you and chris both noticed at the same time, looking at eachother with wild smiles “i love this song!” He exclaims, mouthing the lyrics “just reminds me of growing up” you smile, feeling pretty emotional reminiscing on childhood memories. You drank your second can by the time the sing ended and chris was on his fourth now.

You shared akward eyecontact more than youd like to admit and it felt weirdly intimate, no on knew if or when to make the first move. He looked so good in the dim lighting of the bar, hair down and curly, skin smooth and lips pink. “Chris can i?…” you asked, looking at his lips, he smiled goofily, glad he wasnt the one longing for skin on skin contact.

“CHRIS! Move we are going home, knox told me to go home and that i couldnt leave without you” steve-o groaned, linking arms with the muscular man “but steve-o im kinda in the middle of something” “you get pussy every night, what so special about this one?” Chris side eyes you with a sympathetic look “fine!” He got up with the drunken fool and started leaving, without saying goodbye.

A few days later the videos, interviews and pictures were posted. You instantly searched “street cats”

•heated argument between streetcat star y/n and jackass stars johnny and bam!

•streetcats stunning mtv party outfits!

•sadie from show street cats and steve-o star of jackass sneaking off into bathroom?

•how to dress like oprah star of streetcats

And multiple more junk untill you reach the jackass section

•hear what jackass star chris pontius has to say about streetcats star y/n!

What…

“Hey chris how have you been this evening?” This wasnt a carpet one, this was one taken by paparazzi when chris and steve-o left the party. “A bit drunk!” “Ofcourse! So how was your night?” “Perfect well, almost perfect” “almost perfect?” “Yeah i had to spend the night with a chick on my hip” WHAT? “It was y/n from streetcats!” Steve-o called out. “Is this true?” Chris went silent “is this true?” The paparazzi asked again “yes…” he mumbled, walking away.

DICK HEAD.

#jackass #chris pontius #wildboyz #mtv jackass #fanfic #bam margera #steve o #viva la bam #ryan dunn #dickhouse #johnny knoxville #danger ehren #wee man #Spotify

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