#these two have overtaken my life | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bahrtofane · 29 days

Text

promises under the stars

It's strange. When kisses under stairwells and behind his parents house turns to no more than passing gazes. To hatred. But this is the life you live, the life you have chosen. So you live. You will live.

Jude x fem!reader

Word count - 6.3K+ (yikes !!)

Watch it - angst with minimal fluff. enjoy ?

p.s. - i took a few creative liberties with the time lines an what not so plz take it with a grain of salt and dont think too deeply about it thank u

you can read Judes pov here !

—-----

“Jude, “ you sigh. He doesn't look at you, he's afraid of what he’ll see and you know it.

It's a warm summer night, and you sit side by side on the bleachers of his training field. You waited for hours for him to be done, all for just a few moments together. In full honesty, you're not even supposed to be here, you've been threatened from both sides. And even family overseas have joined in. it's a mess. You think you told them you were off to the library, something like that.

You pulled so many strings just to be let inside to watch training, likewise for Jude. But you're here, he's here. That's all that matters.

Only the lights on the field illuminate you, but you have memorized his face to need no light to see him. Your fingers grab into the seat under you, knuckles turning white. You're afraid. Oh so afraid.

“Please,” you try again, soft and steady, patient.

He finds the courage to face you, ripping himself from the doubt that surrounds him.

You are what plants him to reality, keeps him steady. Your smile is enough to calm any worry, wave away any woe. He hates what he has to do.

“You know this is the last time I’ll see you,” he mumbles. He can't keep risking things the way they are. There's so many eyes on you as it is. He won't put you into harm's way, even if it means parting ways to do so. He wrings his hands together. Breathe, he tries to remind himself. Breathe.

You nod, swift and curt, “I know.” oh how you know. You've been dreading this day to come for a while now. And now that it's here, what can you do?

He picks at the cuffs of his training jacket,“I told them I would marry you, but my agent said it would be unwise.”

“You would marry me?” you whisper, eyes wide.

“A thousand times over. “ he finds your hand, gently lacing it together.

“I wish things were different.” a knot in your throat forms, and tears well in your eyes.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, gently bringing you snug against him as you sob. You will never understand why your families are so adamantly against you two all of the sudden. Your whole childhood was filled with teasing and jokes of marrying one another, giggles when you would be forced to stand in pictures, but now that it was to be true suddenly the jokes faded and anger took its place.

He is good for you as you are good for him. Jude is a man like no other, patient, caring, kind, soft and easy to you yet firm to all else. He holds each door open, never forgets flowers, even when he's away. Surprises you with your favorite sweets, never misses a good night or good morning text. Buys you things you mentioned casually in a fleeting conversation, all because it comes from your lips. If you were to wish for the world he would buy it all, tied neatly and delivered to your window sill.

He takes each burden off your mind with a smile, carries your things, sends a ride to any place you wish to be. (he's working on the actual license).

You fully expected your families to be static, jumping for joy and diving straight to wedding planning. Instead you were met with a brisk, “no.”

No? No to the man who has overtaken your heart and mind? No to the man who wishes to see your flourish and bloom in every regard, every aspect, every part of life? It's cruel in a way. You once used to grimace at the idea when you were younger, fake gagging and instead choosing to wrestle with him in the grass. And now you beg to be allowed to see him.

To ban your union is one thing, but to see him at all brings too much weight on your heart.

You fought every step of the way, every step until now. It gets to be too much at a certain point, when you have to watch your very move in fear of being caught, of being seen with him. When eyes wash over you with lips upturned in sneers and whispers soon following.

The delicate facade you've built is beginning to crack at the seams. Soon there will be nothing left to keep you together. You fear going mad.

So you choose to let him go.

Your phone buzzes, prying the two of you apart. Your heart leaps to your throat. Have you been found out ?

It's just a twitter notification.

You sigh, rubbing your eyes. He rubs gentle circles on your knee. His hands are warm. Just like you remember, just like you dream of. In the gentle quiet of your room you close your eyes and wish for him.

“We can't see each other but I want to keep in touch. I'll wait for you. If you'll wait for me.” he whispers.

You see the tears begin to roll down his cheeks. Ever thoughtful Jude, waiting for you to finish crying to allow himself to do so.

“I'll wait for you, no matter how long it takes. “ you nod, leaning on his shoulder.

And you do just that.

Youre forced apart when a teammate tells him to get going.

He scowls, “hold on.”

The teammate, whose name alludes you, shrugs and jogs back inside.

You stand, watching him shake the tension out of his shoulders.

“This is it then,” you mumble, lip quivering.

“Yeah,” he takes your hands in his, “guess so.”

You bit your lip to stop any more cries. He unlatches a hand from yours, brining it to cup your face gently, wiping the streaks of dried treats left on your cheeks.

“I love you,” he leans down, pressing a single kiss to your lips.

“I love you,” you nod, chasing his lips. He gives them to you. Soft and easy. You screw your eyes shut. Oh you're crying again.

You part when you can no longer breathe, foreheads pressed together while your chests heave.

“My angel,” he sobs.

“Ill find a way back,” you kiss his cheek.

He nods, here,” shaking his training jacket off and putting it on you.

Someone yells his name and he sighs. One last kiss to your forehead.

You watch him sprint down the stands, giving you one last smile before disappearing in the tunnel.

—--

Dortmund is kind to him, you watch as you flourish on the field, never missing a game. You know it's too much to go in person so you stay tucked into bed, laptop out and always always waiting for his name to be announced. Giddy as he looks at the camera. Some days you even convince yourself he's looking right at you.

He calls when he can, facetime you when he's at the facilities. Obnoxiously flexing to the camera while you laugh. You treasure these moments. The few minutes a day when the time difference allows for an overlap. Just enough to get you through to the next day. He always blows a kiss to the camera, and you alway catch it. No matter how cheesy.

“I stubbed my toe.” he whines on the other end.

You laugh, “and whose fault is that.”

“Yours.” he decides.

“Uh huh.” you shake your head fondly, raising a brow at your phone that sits on a window sill. Today you're at a cafe getting some work done. And he just finished dinner.

“Think you'll be able to come to a game soon?” he asks, voice barely a whisper.

You stop typing, frowning, “Jude…”

He shakes his head, “I'm sorry. I know. We can't.”

“Maybe in a year or so? Things should be cooled down by then.”

“Sure,” he shrugs, “they still giving you a hard time?”

You blow air through your nose, “hard time is an understatement, they've practically banned sports.” making light of the outrages situation helps you feel better some days. Jude joining in helps. He always helps.

“So dramatic.” he tuts.

You nod, “so dramatic.”

—--

The year comes and goes. The texts slow down till they are few and far inbetween. You can't blame him. You watch him dominate the field in each appearance, breaking records and showing the world what you've always known, showing just how special he is.

His following count skyrockets and he gets a blue check. You feel special to be one of the few he follows. No matter how silly. Even when he doesn't reply to you and posts on his story you try not to take it too hard (you let it get to your head on bad days.)

You wait for each reply patiently like a lifeline nonetheless, connecting the two of you together. You drop everything the moment his name flashes on the screen. You try to ease the butterflies that float and twist in your stomach, the jitters that make it hard to type out responses right. But you can't help it.

He wins the German cup. And you get a call late into the night, bleary as you reach for your phone, groaning while you put it to your ear. Skipping over his face that illuminates the screen, smiling. Cheeks flush and eyes blown wide.

He giggles, “hi.”

“Hi,” you mumble back.

He giggles again, “m in your ear.”

You squint, bringing the phone in front of you and getting your first good look of him of the night.

“Hey Jude.”

“Hey love.” he sighs dreamily.

You come to your senses soon enough, scooting to sit upright, pushing your pillows around getting comfortable.

“Are you drunk?” You laugh.

“Shhh…” he puts a finger to his lips, “secret.”

You raise a brow, “you’re not doing a very good job at keeping it that way.”

Bursts of laughter bubble from his lips. Swaying side to side while. He blinks, hard, mouth open while he stares.

“ ‘M fine.” He nods. Proud of himself.

You frown, “Are you going to be okay? Are you alone?”

“Erlings with me. My best roommate.”

“Okay good. Be safe.”

“You’re so pretty.” Is what he manages to get out.

“Thank you. You should go to bed.” You smile. He’s sweet, no matter how drunk.

“But I missed you.” He pouts, bottom lip quivering and for a second you think he’s about to cry. Instead he blows a kiss to you. Of course you catch it.

“I missed you too. But it’s late, for both of us.” You lean against your pillow, blinking against the dark of your room.

He hums, tapping his finger against his chin. “I won the cup.” He blurts.

“I know love. I watched.”

His eyes go wide, “you watched me.”

You nod, “the whole game.”

He scrunches his nose, “wow.”

“You did amazing.”

“Wow.” He repeats.

You yawn, squinting against the time in the little corner of your phone.

“Jude.”

“Hm?”

“Head to bed. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

He sighs, shoulders sagging, “fine.”

“I love you. “

He perks right back up. “I love you. You. You.”

You give him a little kiss to the screen and he manages to fall back on his bed sighing happily. You hear erling come in and decide to hang up. You hope he manages to get out of his kit for the night.

——

Things start to calm down on your end. It's almost like everyone's choosing to forget about the hell they've put you through. But you don't make a fuss, you are happy to have peace of mind, no matter how fleeting it may seem. It's just one step closer to being able to have him. Fully and wholly.

He calls you early into the morning. He's sitting in his house, shirt off, smiling.

“Uh oh. What's this about? “

He only smiles wider, bringing an ipad out of nowhere and showing it to you.

You squint, “jude i can't see that. “

He huffs, “here,” picking up his phone and flipping the camera to where his ipad now sits on his lap.

On the screen reads flight information, for about 2 weeks out, destination is to you. Your eyes go wide and you hear him chuckle on the other end.

“No way. No way oh my god.” you all but squeal.

He flips the camera back around, “Can't wait to see you again,” he beams.

“I missed you so much.”

“Me too.” he mumbles, lips curling in a smile.

——-

You greet him at the airport, flowers in hand. No you don’t care how cheesy it is. Even if you have to wait in the most obscure place, car parked and nerves rising. Playing with every button and switch on your dashboard, picking at every spec of dust you can reach. You got it detailed yesterday and you’re already nitpicking.

You check and recheck your phone, picking at the petals of the flowers that rest in your passenger, until his contact illuminates your screen.

You frantically answer, “hey.”

“TSA was being a bitch.” He groans.

You chuckle, “that bad.”

“The worst. Where you at?”

You look around for signs, “arrivals, right next to the luggage cart return thing. It says door D5. “

“D5. Okay okay I’m coming.”

You hum, hanging up and drumming your hands on the wheel.

He calls you again, “okay I’m walking out the door. Can you help me with the luggage?”

“Yeah-“ you unbuckle your seatbelt, putting your hazards on and stepping out of the car. You see him walk out the door and you almost drop your phone while rushing up to him.

He lets go of his carry on, opening his arms and you slip right into them.

“Hey,” he hums into your hair.

You laugh,“hey.”

You unlatch far too soon for your liking out the sounds and rush of the airport pushes you to get him in your car and outta here.

You grab his things, one carry on and one checked bag, clicking your keys and opening your trunk. He doesn’t let you do much else, lifting the suitcase and sliding it inside. Your little 4 door sedan manages to fit the checked bag in your truck. With not enough room for the carry in, it slides into your back seat.

You close the door, patting the top of your car affectionately, “there. All good to go?”

He nods, opening the door to your passenger and gasping, “flowers?” Eyes going wide, eyebrows shooting in and looking at you. Lips parted.

Oh yes. You forgot about those. “Haha. Yeah. Flowers.”

He picks them up gingerly, setting them into his lap as he gets into the seat. “Are these for me?”

You hop to the driver's side, buckling your seatbelt, “duh.”

He giggles,”they’re sweet.”

“Smell them.”

He does, putting his face in the petals, “woah.”

“Best flowers in town.”

“Smells like. Fresh laundry.” He nods.

“Laundry. You called my flowers laundry.” You sigh.

He swats your arm, “it’s a compliment jeez. Just landed and you’re giving me a hard time.”

“Yeah yeah buckle up.” You flick his arm.

The ride home is one filled with animated stories to catch up the time between you two. Completely oblivious to anything else as you drive with one hand, and the other plays with his fingers.

You get to your little apartment, parking and getting his things out. Sliding your key card over the sensor and you guide him to the lobby.

You roll over to the elevator and hit the button. Sniffling while it heads up.

“Are you sick?” He narrows his eyes at you.

“Nah.”

“Mkay.”

The elevator dings and you find your way to your little home, unlocking the door and motioning him inside.

“Ta da!”

He snorts, “I’m excited.”

“You should be. Best house this side of the equator.”

He rolls his things inside, shaking his head, “so there’s better on the other side?”

You shrug, “there might be.”

He collapses on your couch the moment he sees it. Closing his eyes and sighing deeply.

“Shoes off at the door Jude.” You slide yours off and set them next to your shoe rack.

He groans, kicking them off and trudging back to set them next to yours.

By the time you put his things in your room, he's out like a light, snoring softly.

—--

You let him sleep, by the time he comes back to it it's dinner time. Groggy and cranky he pads over to your dining table, still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes but reaching for you.

He finds you eventually, plating the last bit of food while he wraps his arms around you, leaning into your back. You stifle a laugh while he mumbles something about you being mean. You only roll your eyes, unlatching his grip.

“Time to eat baby.”

He only purses his lips, leaning against yours. You give him what he wants. Pressing a gentle kiss and guiding him to his seat. A sleep Jude is a clingy one you've learned.

He eats all you make, complimenting and praising you after every bite.

“You're so good at this.” he sighs, taking a sip of his water.

“Anything for my favorite boy.”

He preens at this, smiling wide.

He's only here for the next three days but you'll take anything you can get.

——-

Jude worries for you.

Even in the gentle lull of your ac that fans his face while you're fast asleep against him.

He wonders who much longer he can keep doing this. Holding onto hope that down the line he will still have you.

His time is running out with you. It feels just like the day you parted at the stadium. Crying. He noticed you kept the jacket, neatly tucked in your closet.

It makes him frown. Making you waste your youth waiting for him.

Part of him wants to keep you for him and only him. Keep waiting and hoping things will work out. Another part of him, much less excited, wishes for you to look him in the eye and tell him you don't love him anymore.

One of you has to do it, he thinks.

Even if you move in with him and you get married. Is it worth the fall out? His mother hates you. His father cant stand hearing your name at the dinner table on the few days they eat together.

He knows the sentiment is shared on your end.

But he loves you. Oh how he loves you.

—--

After he leaves you don't hear from him for months on end your worry rises, and when the replies also shorten, your fear takes a hold of you. Sensibility out the window and in comes every insecure thought.

He's found a hot shot model to be with hasn't he. Or better yet a female player. Reporter perhaps? You're not dumb or blind, you know you're not the only one who sees how handsome he is. He's growing into his features beautifully. But does he see you?

Is he leaving you behind now, as his life and career continue to accelerate at speeds you can barely keep up with, is he no longer waiting for you ?

—--

Jude finds his routine once again. Training playing, training playing. It's a little dull, he thinks.

Much better if you would be here.

But he can't have that.

He stops himself from talking to you. It feels wrong. He can't shake off the feeling that he's only doing you wrong by making you keep up with him. So he slowly distances himself.

—--

He cant stay away. Not even if he tries.

He surprises you near your birthday. Completely unannounced while you're in the middle of cleaning.

You open the door to a jittery Jude who grabs you close, pressing his lips firm to yours.

“Hello to you too,” you giggle in between kisses.

Peck! “You're so-” peck!, “beautiful.”

You shoo him away, getting his things inside as he takes his shoes off at the door.

“I missed you so much, “ he mumbles against the crook of your neck.

“Me too,” you sigh, clutching into his hands like a lifeline.

“I got you tickets?”

You look up at him, “okay. Ill go.”

He attacks you with a hundred more kisses, bursts of laughter spilling from the both of you. You dont think youve ever been happier.

—--

You do go. Sitting in the fancy VIP section while watching him warm up. You almost forgot he’s at Madrid now. Big leagues huh.

He sends small waves your way in between exercises. And you only watch fondly.

When it's time for the actual match, you can't believe you get to watch him score. And he points right to you.

You love him. Oh how you love him.

He finds you after it's all set and done. Kissing you silly while he ignores the hundreds of notifications that make his phone buzz and sputter on the table.

You frown, “who is that.”

He chews his lip, “prolly just the guys,” leaning back into your lips.

You're forced to part ways when the calls flood in, promising to see you soon when he takes care of things.

He doesn't come back to see you, instead leaving you to head back to your hotel alone. You try not to think too deeply into it. But you fear you are already starting to lose him. After everything really has passed and fizzled out to nothing but memories. You fear it's all too late.

—--

You see him only once more during your stay in madrid. When youre all packed and leaving. He presses kisses to your skin whispering promises. And you believe him.

When you land back home you go back to your routine of watching him from afar. And again the replies shorten. So much so you only get the odd text every few weeks. Until it turns to months. And you're back to radio silence.

It's almost a self pity party, trying to keep up with him. Even now that you can go see him, he can come see you, does he even want that anymore?

You crave to talk to him, to know him, to go back to the closeness you once shared. You know that's no longer your place in his life. You were someone he once treasured. Now you're another unanswered dm that lays in his inbox.

Does it hurt you as much as it does him? You don't think so. Not when pictures of him on vacation with his “friends” surface. Who even are these people? You don't recognize a single face. It fills you with rage.

Almost like he's trying to erase his past life with this new squeaky clean image of the perfect player with the perfect life. Friends and all.

Is he ashamed of you?

You fight the urge to call his mom and stir up trouble from the past. So instead you hunker down in your room and try to keep yourself busy and mind off of Jude. This turns out to be much easier said than done.

—--

Jude finds himself in another after party, wearing clothes much too expensive to be getting champagne sprayed all over them. But what else can he do?

He crafted this image delicately. Can't turn back now.

There's a woman who keeps whispering into his ear. She's not you. No matter how much his teammates howl and egg him on. He can't bring himself to do so much as face her.

He's not interested, gently moving her aside while he nurses his drink.

She scoffs, calling him a slew of names. He frowns, excusing himself and making a beeline for the bathrooms. Locking himself inside a stall and leaning on its walls.

He calls you. Of course he does. And you pick up.

“Hey Jude.” he can hear the smile in your voice.

“Hey love.”

“What's up?”

He sighs, long and drawn out, “I just miss you.”

You snort, “really because it seems like you've been having a blast on beaches with people i've never heard of.”

Oh.

“It's not like that-”

“Jude. don't lie to me. If you've found someone else, tell me now.”

“I havent I swear. They really are just friends.”

“Why didn't you tell me you were going?” you whisper.

There's a beat of silence. And Jude can't find the answer. Looking at the ceiling of the club like it will magically come to life and give him just the right combination of words to make both of you happy.

You sigh, “if we are going to make anything work I can't be out of the loop this much Jude. I can't know things after paparazzi do okay?”

“Okay,” he replies, meek.

“Where even are you?”

He licks his lips, “this after party thing.”

“Its in a club isn't it.”

He doesn't answer but it's confirmation nonetheless.

“Dont be stupid and start calling me more.”

He opens his mouth to answer, but you've already hung up. He rubs his eyes and head out the stall. Washing his hands and splashing some water on his face.

When he gets back out there, he decides to call it a night. Ignoring the groans and frowns he gets.

When he's back in bed. He's looking at flights to see you again.

—--

Jude gets a call a few weeks later.

It's right after he gets back from training. Hasn't even changed yet.

The number is unknown and he ignores it the first time. Setting his phone on the dinning table and kicking his shoes off.

When it calls back two more times he picks up.

“Hello?” he scratches the back of his head.

“You know why im calling.” its your father.

Jude scrambles to take a seat, chewing his lips. What does he mean know why. He hasn't talked to you in a few days.

“Um, I really don't know-” he gets cut off.

“This will be my last warning to you. You are not going to ruin my daughter's life i dont give a damn how old you are, how old she is. None of this player nonsense. She has a proper education. You aren't going to ruin that for her, do you understand?”

Silence.

“I swear if I hear you coming around her or talking to her I will sue you and your whole family.”

The line goes dead and Jude sighs. Great. Just great.

He calls his lawyer, seeing if it would be legal to sue.

His lawyer hums, “well they can come at you from any angle really. Emotional distress possible defamation. Id lay low for now.”

So he does just that. Yet again going silent on you.

—--

He hears wind that people have put two and two together. Your instagram has been flooded with requests. You've always had it private but you've been forced to change your user name and picture.

You don't know how but pictures from when you saw him in Madrid have resurfaced.

And have gone more than just viral. It's all people are talking about.

Your work life has gone from just pleasantries and work only talk to people crowding around you begging to know more. You've had people show up to your workplace for god's sake. Begging to be let in so they can see you.

Jude calls you, worried. “I'm so sorry I don't know how pics were even taken. I'm so sorry im so sorry.”

“I don't know what to do Jude i've never dealt with this kinda stuff.” you mumble.

“Hey, hey its okay. Ill get you in contact with a security company dont worry leave it to me.”

“Okay.”

“For now. I dont think ill be able to see you anytime soon.”

“Thats okay.”

“Be safe yeah?”

“Yeah.”

—--

Your family is in a complete uproar. They blame Jude. of course they do. Your father talks about suing him but you turn it down.

“He didnt mean for this to happen.”

Your mother shakes her head, “this is why we told you to stay away from him.”

You dont regret any moments with him.

It takes a while. A grueling few months for your life to finally go back to normal. But Jude rarely comes back like before.

You watch the months turn to years flashing by. Facetimes become a luxury of your past self. Calls are reserved for special occasions like an aged wine. Only brought out sparelily. You get one on your birthday but it feels forced. Heavy and filled with all too much silence.

You've tried calling, texting. Rarely receiving the time of day. Who is Jude to you anymore?

“Hey, “ he smiles. A picture perfect rehearsed one. You almost forgot what he sounded like when speaking to you. How long has it been now?

“Hi.” You mumble.

“Happy birthday. Sorry I couldn’t be there.”

You shrug, “it’s okay.”

Silence while you pick your nails.

“Any plans?”

“I don’t know, maybe dinner with friends.”

“Oh Emily?”

You want to roll your eyes. You haven’t spoken to Emily in years.

“No Jude. We’re not in touch anymore. New friends I’ve met”

He mouths a silent “oh”.

He wants to tell you why he's been gone for so long. But unfortunately he's caught up in a legal battle. Your father actually went ahead with it. And he's stuck trying to make sense of it.

The maniac got good lawyers. And he's using every last bit of the law to win it. Using the leaked pictures that caused you so much trouble as his main leverage.

He's been advised not to talk to you. But it's your birthday. And now seeing you moved on, new friends, new life. It feels like it's time to let go.

For your sake. He's only brought problems into your life. And you live a life now without him. He just hopes you're happy.

—--

You see him once, passing by through the city center. You want to run after him, grab his shoulders and shake him awake, scream and yell, beg for him to remember your promise. But you do none of that. The second your gaze meets his, your heart leaps to your throat, you blink and he's gone.

You get a text from him a few days later, first since your birthday.

Was nice seeing you.

You want to cry. What did he see? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. It wasn't nice. Not at all. It was awful. It ripped any piece of sense out of you and made you sick.

You dont reply.

—--

You wish you had. He gets called to the national team, and suddenly your family begins to boast of your connection to him. And that's just it. Your connection. Not theirs. Yours. You know him, you love him. Or you knew him.

After so many years of cursing his name now they all but sing it.

The local community is hosting watch parties, you refuse to go.

You know the gossip around you as is. You don't need it said to your face. These people are unforgiving on their best days, cruel on their worst. More so the older generation who seems to hold not an ounce of basic human decency.

And somehow you find yourself in a room painted in blue and white, you look away at the stares you get when you walk in. You're regretting coming at all. You're wearing a blank jersey you've had for a while, slumped in the corner of the room, watching. Waiting for the comments to pour in sooner or later.

But they don't, not for now. Instead, the room erupts with cheers and applause as Jude scores a goal, you smile. Not bad for a midfielder huh. The air is electric with excitement, but you feel detached, as if you're watching the scene unfold from a distance, picking at the plate of sweets that rests on your knee.

As the game progresses, you can't help but steal glances at Jude on the screen. He looks different now, more confident, more assured. He's cut his hair, clean and precise. And yet, there's a sadness in his eyes that mirrors your own.

You wonder if he thinks of you, if he remembers the promise he made all those years ago. Has it really been years? But the thought is fleeting, lost amidst the chaos of the crowd and the weight of your own heartache. And soon I have a headache.

When the final whistle blows and England emerges victorious, the room erupts into celebration once again. But you slip out quietly, unnoticed, lost in your own thoughts.

Outside, the night air is cool against your skin as you make your way home. You're not waiting on anyone, and it's a short walk away. The streets are quiet, the sounds of celebration fading into the distance.

You pause for a moment, taking in the stillness of the night. And in that moment, you make a decision.

You may not have chased after him when you had the chance, but you refuse to let this be the end of your story. You refuse to let fear and doubt hold you back any longer. There is no use to let yourself be defined by what ifs.

With a determined step, you pull out your phone and type out a message to Jude.

Watched you play tonight. I'm proud of you.

It's a small gesture, but it's a start. And as you hit send, you feel a glimmer of hope stir within you.

Maybe, just maybe, this isn't goodbye after all. Maybe there's still a chance for the two of you to find your way back to each other, to rewrite the ending of your story.

But for now, all you can do is wait. Wait for his reply, wait for the future to unfold, and wait for the day when you can finally be together again, without fear or hesitation. In a way he'll always be your Jude.

——

News reaches you in the form of an instagram post on a summer day. Not family, not friends, not him. It’s your explore page that plasters it on your screen, in the middle of your morning routine you see him all tidied up in a suit, facing away from the camera, the side of his face illuminated by soft light. Next to his side is a woman in white, you only see a peek of her face but you call tell shes smiling.

“Just married.”

Married. Just. Married.

Oh.

You don't register it at first, the words looking more like a foreign language than any coherent sentence. So you finish brushing your teeth and your hair. Moisturizing your face, slipping back into bed and rereading it over and over and over again till it finally does click for you.

He gave up on waiting.

You keep going back to the picture. He's grown into a proper man now. His features are full and bright. He's gotten a different haircut. Leaving behind the one of his youth. You read through the comments of teammates and old friends congratulating him.

You realize the tie he's wearing is the one his dad got him when he first left for dortmund. You think you're gonna be sick.

No one bothers to ask why you've been crying all day. It's safe to assume everyone knows by now, hell the whole population probably does.

What changed his mind? What made it that he couldn't even bother to let you know beforehand?

And yet there's a stupid prick of hope that can't seem to go away. You're still waiting for him aren't you.

—--

As the days turn into weeks, and the weeks into months, the reality of his marriage settles heavily on your shoulders. You can't help but wonder if he thinks of you, if he remembers the promises made under the stars, if he regrets the choice he made. But you push those thoughts aside, burying them deep within you, because what good would they do?

A sick twisted idea of wrecking his home blooms in your mind, but you know you can't. You just can't. Not to him. You can't take away something like this from him.

Life goes on, as it always does, but the ache in your chest remains, a constant reminder of what could have been. You try to distract yourself with work, with friends, with anything that will keep your mind from wandering back to him. Yet, he's always there, lingering in the back of your thoughts like stardust.

You hear snippets of his life through mutual acquaintances, through social media posts, through the grapevine of gossip that always seems to find its way to you. He's thriving, it seems, his career reaching new heights, his personal life seemingly content. Apparently he has a kid on the way, would you look at that. And you can't help but feel a pang of jealousy. To top it all off you still have no clue on who this woman is. Not who she is, what she does, where she's from. Absolutely nothing, it drives you mad to say the least.

He hasn't spoken to you. Not since that day in the city center.

Maybe if you would have known all that was to come you would've gone after him. Chasing him endlessly through cobblestone stress and crowded walkways. Would he have even stopped? Given you a moment of his day?

The same man who spent his days off in your apartment kissing your worries away and promising you a tomorrow you still cling to.

You're a foolish foolish woman. And for some reason, you don't hate him. You don't think you ever could. Even after everything, every single year that's passed. A part of you will always love him.

—--

#jude x you #jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude x reader #bahr footy #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham blurb #jude x y/n #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham angst #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham fluff

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earthtooz · 6 months

Text

an accidental diluc fic in which you seek refuge at dawn winery in the midst of a storm. pining ensues. 1k words.

the fireplace crackles, a pen scrawls hurriedly on paper, and the rain that hits the windows of dawn winery is slowly beginning to ease, the oppressive downpour turning into something gentle and calming. you glance out the windows, unfocusing your eyes and mind from the novel in your hands to observe the slowing raindrops.

your pot of tea is empty now, your hair and clothes have dried completely now after being near a fireplace for so long, and your limbs are beginning to ache from how long you’ve been sitting around. perhaps it’s time to return home now.

diluc, from where he works in front of you, doesn’t notice you, hands too tightly wound in his red locks to look anywhere but at his paperwork. he is so concentrated that you feel bad distracting him from his duties, but with the easing of the rain, you’d rather leave now in case the downpour starts again.

oh, but thinking of the trip back home is already an unappealing thought. it is so warm inside diluc’s abode with the fireplace a few feet away from you, his furniture is so comfortable, and you’d hate having to trek through mud and hills, sullying your shoes and attire.

however, you would hate to disturb the ragnvindr estate more than you already have with your sudden appearance, frantic to find shelter from the downpour. it just so happened you were near dawn winery at the time of the storm, and when the redhead caught sight of you amidst the onslaught of rain, he hurried you inside with no room for argument.

it wasn’t that the two of you were unfamiliar. you’ve known him properly for two years now, and you admit that during those years, you’ve developed quite the affectionate spot for the young winery owner. sometimes, you think he feels the same for you, but diluc ragnivdr is diluc ragnvidr, as close as you may be, you are reminded of how unreachable he is for someone like you. so although he is the one that ushered you into his home, offering you a warm place to seek refuge in the meantime, you are the one that feels most guilty taking up space in his home.

in hopes of subtly catching diluc’s attention, you stand, careful to not let the cushions move an inch as you pat down your clothes.

despite your rustling, the red-haired still has not moved, staring at the paperwork before him as if they were the greatest heathen of his life. one of the maids notice you instead, quickly scrambling to your aid and asking whether or not something was disturbing you.

“no, no, nothing of that sort,” you reassure, unsure of how to act with someone so frantically attending do your wants. “i was merely preparing to leave soon since the rain has eased.”

the scraping of chair against wooden floorboards fill the room and heavy footsteps follow. “leaving? at this time of day?” diluc asks, presence suddenly larger than life and occupying the whole room. you feel small in front of him, overtaken by a courteous guilt.

the maid has left.

“yes, at this time of day,” you confirm. “is that so wrong?”

“it’s dusk, y/n. the monsters will be out and it’ll be unsafe outside by the time you leave.”

“i can handle myself,” you vaguely gesture to the vision and sword that hangs from your hips. still, his expression does not change. “besides, i’ve been in your hair long enough, thank you for your hospitality, but i mustn’t bother you anymore.”

“you do not need to be so formal with me. while you are under my roof, it would be in my best interest to take care of you,” he crosses his arms over his chest, looking away from your eyes. “your company could never be a burden, either.”

you cannot help but smile at his shy confession, stepping yourself back in his gaze so he can see that warm grin of yours that he’s come to adore- not that he’d ever admit that to you. “oh?” you quip. “why, i’m flattered that you deem me worthy to keep around, master diluc, but i ought to get going now.”

“it’s still cold outside, your attire is far too little for this weather.”

“a little bit of cold never hurt me.”

“you’ll get sick.”

“i’ll refuse.”

“you’ll… refuse?” he snorts.

“i will!” you declare brazenly.

“you are not leaving the manor when it’s cold and dark outside.”

you ignore the fluttering of your heart at the obvious care he is showcasing. “i feel awful taking up space in your home, diluc.”

“my decision is final, you shouldn’t risk your safety because of silly assumptions believing that you’re ‘bothering’ me.”

as if sensing leftover threads of hesitance in your resolve, he adds, “adelinde was looking forward to having you here tonight as well. if you want to leave at some point, can’t you let it be after dinner? i’d hate to disappoint adelinde by telling her of your departure.”

as if the universe had timed it, it was after his sentence that you began to smell an aromatic scent wafting into the room, one so delicious that it was getting harder for you to resist diluc’s invitations.

“you’re just guilt-tripping me now!” you accuse, a glimmer of amusement settling in his red eyes.

“and you are stalling. stay for dinner at least, i’ll feel better knowing that you leave with a full stomach.”

“what are you two bickering about?” comes a third voice- adelinde, who peeks around the doorway with an affectionate smile. at her appearance, you straighten your spine and crowd away from the young winery owner.

“nothing,” diluc explains, “apologies if we were too loud.”

“please, save your conversations for dinner. the plates are ready if you wish to eat, master diluc.”

“thank you, adelinde.” the redhead turns to you. “so, what will it be?”

home could wait, you decide. “it’d be impolite of me to decline. i’ll stay.”

he smiles in satisfaction at your surrender, seeming proud of himself for getting you to stay a little longer. you can’t see it, but the head maid can very clearly identify the warm bits of affection settling in the young master’s eyes, rolling off him in waves as you declare that you’ll return his hospitality next time.

(you stay the night because shortly after dinner, the rain returned. this time, with thunder and lightning.)

#earthtooz: genshin impact #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc x y/n #genshin diluc #genshin fic #diluc x reader fluff #diluc fluff #genshin x reader

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thebadboyfanclub · 10 months

Text

Welcome To Our Family (Daemon x Reader)

Hey everyone, so as I mentioned before I wanted to write a throuple thing with Rhaenyra and Daemon although even on this request there was some drama involved but it was interesting to write nonetheless. Also I don’t know why but this song inspired me the most especially the part “where you go I go, what you see I see” that was the vibe I was trying to pass for our reader with daemon

Most would say that the war in the stepstones had no place for love to blossom, the reeking stench of death had overtaken and most men had no life in their eyes, the majority prayed in gratitude that they were alive while others cursed the gods for keeping them on this forsaken realm when their friend of even their kin had been killed.

That did not even grace Daemon, who was lucky enough to spend every night in the arms of his beloved (y/n), the sister of one of his soldiers that had been wounded, (y/n) had marched in and demanded that her brother will come home.

“I will be damned if I allow you to give more than an arm for this, you are coming with me”

Her brother had obeyed her, she was as fragile as a rose but her thorns stung more than anything, right then and then Daemon had become a mere slave to his emotions, something that had never occurred before.

“I wish I could stay in your arms forever”

“That would be a dream, my love, however, we are counting the days until you depart, your wife probably awaits you”

Daemon was deeply offended by the jab his lover had thrown at him, slowly he rose up and away from her arm reach to look her straight in the eyes, the fireplace burned bright and the light shined against her glistening skin.

“You are questioning my feelings for you”

“I am questioning how strong they are, you are a prince, a husband, your life seems to hold no room for me”

“Is that how you think of this? That I just wanted to bed you?”

“Do you truly wish for me to answer that?”

Silence took over them while the only sound came from the crackles of the fire, Daemon was aware of how badly this could look, she was a commoner, a mere lady, and the realm would never accept her even if Daemon had not wed another.

“You and our daughter mean everything to me”

“But nothing to the king, he will ask for my head once he finds out I am carrying your child”

“I would never put your lives at risk”

“How do you plan on keeping us safe my love?”

“Do not worry about that, I will take care of everything”

(Y/n)s belly was starting to show, it wouldn’t take long for the king and his little whisperers to demand answers, the easy route was to declare his kin a bastard but Daemon was flying on cloud nine when (y/n) announced that she was with child, no he must do right by her.

He flew with her to Pentos, far away from Viserys and people that cared most about titles and crowns than love and compassion.

“Twins, my prince, two sons, praise the mother”

“What about (y/n)”

“The lady is a warrior, she is tired but healthy”

Daemon did not speak another word to the maester, he simply passed by him and into the room to find his beloved laying in bed, a faint smile on her face as she held one of her children while the other was being held by a midwife.

“You owe me 3 dragon coins”

“It is a bet I will happily pay, how are you feeling?”

“Sore and gross but happy, why don’t you hold him?”

“I-“

“Come on love it is merely a babe, like… so”

Slowly (y/n) passed one of her sons to her lover, instructing him to hold it carefully but securely, then she reached for the midwife so she can have her other son in her arms, both of the babes were quiet in their parent's arms.

“What should we name them?”

“I was thinking of Orryn, and mayhaps… Baelon?”

“Baelon and Orryn, the two princes”

Daemon and (y/n) had grown inseparable much to his brother's dislike Daemon had scoffed at his previous marriage and took his place next to his most endearing (y/n) that had blessed him with not just two children, but with passion, and comfort, she created a home for him, without her there was no warmth, no color.

Viserys was only finding out the milestones his brother was achieving with his mistress via ravens that Daemon dared to send, the birth of his sons had scratched a wound in Viserys that was not quite healed yet, so naturally when Rhea had passed due to fever, Daemon had even dared to invite Viserys to his wedding that took place in Pentos.

(Y/n) had just given birth to another set of siblings, Alyssa and Arren, two silver-haired princesses that slept peacefully through the night and would only stay quiet if (y/n) or Daemon held them, (y/n)s parents and brother had traveled to Pentos to finally meet the children and also attend the wedding.

“You look dashing sweetling, I see the prince has taken good care of you”

“How could I not? What is more important than the happiness of my lady wife?”

“We must admit we had conflicting thoughts over you my prince, I am happy that you proved us wrong”

“I do not hold it against you, she is your daughter you want what is best for her, also you were not the only one, (y/n) was also very skeptical over my intentions”

“I had every reason to do so”

“I have made peace with the fact that you will never admit you were wrong my love, you do not have to find excuses for it”

Daemon and (y/n) were wed in Valyrian traditions, something that infuriated Viserys, how dare he wed a commoner with the sacred paths of old Valyria, it was distasteful and utterly disrespectful, Viserys had only sent a one-sentence raven scroll back

“You disgust me, never come back”

Daemon had only rolled his eyes at it and threw it in the fire, he couldn’t care less about Kings Landing, they could eat each other for all he cared, (y/n) and their children were all that mattered ever since he met with the beautiful hues of hers, he treasured everything about her and worshipped the ground she walked on, he would always hold her close and shower her with gifts.

“We received a raven, I have taken the liberty to open it”

“What is it?”

“Laenor Velaryon has passed, and your niece is requesting our presence, well yours to be specific, she said “I need you, uncle”

“You are jealous, I have never seen you get jealous”

“Is this the one you told me about, that “spur of the moment” girl?”

“Indeed, we do not have to go, besides, my brother banished me”

“No, it is the first time our presence is requested”

“My dear, you are with child and the flight is long”

“I will be fine, I know it”

Daemon was certain he could not sway her, once something was on her mind there was nothing that could turn it around, he was also aware that the reason she was so adamant was a side of hers that felt threatened, there was a ghost of his past that was requesting attention and (y/n) was not willing to walk away from this without putting up a fair fight.

At a day (y/n) and her 8 children stood next to her and her husband all dressed in black, everyone rubbed their eyes at the sight of such numerous children, (y/n) always knew she was meant to be a mother and that fact that she had Daemon as her husband made it so much easier.

Until it didn’t, they were summoned by the king after the ceremony, (y/n) felt her stomach drop as soon as she walked in the room, instinctively her one hand went over her growing belly, yet she mastered the strength to place a smile and curtsy before the king.

“What is the meaning of this brother?”

“I was hoping we could agree to some sort”

“Over what?”

“I wish for you to come back, I… will legitimize your children and wife as she has proven worthy, bringing forward 8 children with another on the way is no easy task”

“The gods have been generous to us that is correct, we are grateful for this offer but forgive me to ask, since you mentioned an agreement it seems you want something in return”

“Correct, there is no smooth way to say this but as a parent, I hope you understand that I would do anything to protect my daughter”

“No”

“Daemon”

“If you are asking us to wed Rhaenyra then you have lost your mind, I will not involve my wife and children in your scandals”

“Pardon my husband, I think you can understand the reason behind his outburst”

Daemon was left confused over (y/n)s composure that attempted to cover for his utter refusal to hide his brother's plans, he turned to observe his wife, she was calm, and her hand went to find his as their fingers intertwined (y/n) gave him a slight squeeze of comfort.

“The legitimacy of our children and our marriage is something that we are interested in, however, you can see why we might have some objections over accepting Rhaenyra in our marriage”

“You are trying to negotiate?”

“Yes”

“What else would you like to accept, please speak freely”

“I want my children to be given dragon eggs as well as meet any unclaimed dragons, they are Targaryens, they should have the pick of their dragons as well”

“Done”

“I shall also be considered Rhaenyras wife, if we were to wed I shall have the same rights as my husband”

“You are suggesting the realm accept you as the future queen's consort?”

“As you mentioned I brought forward 8 children and another on the way, the crown shall accept them as future princes and princesses, if not then there is nothing for us here”

Daemon chose to observe his lady wife than speak up, she took initiative and strived for the best option, something he admired in her but he had never really witnessed how far she was willing to go to secure the future of her family, now she was sacrificing a spot in their marriage for a seat at the table, Viserys had been outsmarted by what he used to frown upon.

“Very well, we accept your conditions”

“Well then… welcome to our family Princess Rhaenyra”

(Y/n) and Daemon wed Rhaenyra as they had once done while their children and the rest of their family watched, Rhaenyra had underestimated the lady, (y/n) and might not be as assertive or rebellious as Daemon but her wits and calculated movements showed a woman that walked with her head held high and every step was thought after.

The days turned to seasons and then years, everyone was holding their breaths as they took a front-row seat to one of the most important marriages and alliances within the Targaryen Dynasty.

(Y/n) was held in the best light by the small folk, “the realms mother”, and “the Alyssane reborn” as her fertility kept thriving, blessing Daemon with another set of twins soon after Rhaenyra was wed, the two beautiful baby girls were named Megaera and Valera, the first of their family to receive dragon eggs on their cradles a gift by Rhaenyra who picked them herself then came Aegon, Viserys, and Visenya, overall (y/n) had the castle of Dragonstone filled with children, 13 to be precise.

Rhaenyra was painfully aware of how those babies came to fruition, Daemon's thirst for his wife was evident and he did not even consider giving Rhaenyra the courtesy of hiding, Rhaenyra had lost count of the times she had walked in on (y/n), and Daemon lusting after one another at all hours of the day and any room that was close to them, she sometimes wondered if the legends of Rhaenys being the favorite wife of Aegon made Visenya go through what Rhaenyra was also experiencing, is that mayhaps the reason behind Rhaenyra identifying with the warrior queen?

As (y/n) and Daemon stood by Rhaenyra at court, defending her and consulting her on important matters, painting the picture of a happy marriage with two spouses that supported her revolutionary claim, the realm expected Rhaenyra to bare a child as well, (y/n) was producing heirs one after the other, Rhaenyras womb laid empty since Daemon did not spend not even one night in her chambers.

It was the first time in years that the three of them had stepped foot in kings landing, Vaemond had called the court to usurp Lucerys from his claim at the driftwood throne, naturally, all 13 of their children were present along with the three boys from Rhaenyras previous marriage, (y/n) insisted that it would show how United they are and having that strong of a number on their side would scare off any other accusations.

A solid plan, until Ser Vaemond decided to protest against the king affirming young Lucerys as the successor for the driftwood throne.

“You run your house as you see fit, but I would rather die than let that boy take over my family’s name, parading around because you are too blind to see the truth”

“You dare question the decision of a king?”

“Look at them, all thirteen of them hold the characteristics of old Valyrian, true born heirs that I would happily accept as mine even though they came from a womb of a commoner, and you ask me to accept these three boys as Velaryons? It is blasphemy”

“You are certainly bold Ser Vaemond, you have the nerve to call me a commoner when I hold the future queen and the brother of the king as my spouses, my children are not thirteen, but sixteen, and all of them hold their names with pride, it saddens my heart to see that the thirst for recognition has turned you to this low of antics”

“Her children are BASTARDS! and she. Is. A. Whore”

“Pity, you had such great potential”

As (y/n) finished her sentence Daemon had taken the liberty to end Ser Vaemonds life, a clean cut through his head right above his tongue with the great sword dark sister, causing most people to gasp while (y/n) smirked and watched the body fall on the well-polished floor.

“No one disrespects our family”

“Disarm him!”

“No need, my love”

Daemon stretched his hand to his beloved (y/n) who only turned to pinch Lucerys cheek before she took her husband's hand to walk away, only to halt and turn around again, looking back to the rest of her family members.

“Rhaenyra”

Rhaenyra was grateful for (y/n)s graciousness, there was nothing that she could hold against her, she was loving and caring to her three boys, she would listen to Rhaenyra about any concerns for hours and even now she defended and included her in front of everyone.

She should be satisfied with such, still a thorn stuck in her heart and pride making Rhaenyra feel second best when it came to Daemon's heart, it has always been (y/n), (y/n) carried his offspring’s, he gave up everything for her, took her away and gave her a life full of gifts and love, the finest of any kind was reserved for (y/n).

“Pardon my intrusion, the princess is requesting Prince Daemon in her chamber”

“It is late, can it not wait?”

“Sweetling, the poor girl cannot know, go to her, I will be waiting for you”

“Fine, take your nightgown off for me, I want us to get straight to it when I get back”

Daemon whispered deviously before he planted a passionate kiss on the lips he most adored, reluctantly pulled away with an audible gruff and followed the servant girl silently, wondering what was so important that he had to leave his precious bed and his lustful wife right in the heat of the moment.

Rhaenyra paced back and forth with impatience written all over her demeanor and face, Daemon always had an influence over her, making her feel like a little girl again, though this was a different type of anxiety, once Daemon entered the room and the servant gave them their privacy Rhaenyra took a deep inhale through the nose to ease her nerves.

“I hoped to confront you over our marriage”

“What of it?”

“Do you truly think everything is fine or are you just blind?”

“I and my wife have honored our vows”

“That is the problem, you and your wife, it has never been just your vows”

“When you wed us you were to understand your place when it came to me and (y/n), I never used her as a surprise, you called for our aid and we generously offered it”

He was right, Rhaenyra had never been blindsided by them, (y/n) was a staple of their marriage, (y/n)s strive for the legitimacy of her children was the only reason Daemon allowed their wedding to happen, (y/n) had drank for Rhaenyras cup just as daemon had, binding their hands together and swore loyalty and devotion to their future queen.

As a woman Rhaenyra felt cast aside, this marriage was an insult to her pride, and having to bare through a birth of a child one after the other with a smile on her face was a twist of a knife in her wound, while her womb lay empty.

“You refuse to spend time with me, alone, you only show up with your children-“

“Our children, (y/n) and I call your sons our sons”

“At court yes”

“Are you questioning our actions? I did not have you to be as dim-witted as you seem right now, (y/n) called Lucerys her trueborn son in front of everyone, I took a man’s head for insulting you and our house and yet you stand before me and claim it is not enough for your liking?”

“I stand here to remind you that we have yet to produce a child, you can kill as many men as you wish, and (y/n) can scream it at the top of her lungs but that does not change that everyone sees her parading her belly and call her the realms mother while my womb rottenness under this wedlock”

“Rotten? Alright then, let us entertain this and say you bare my child, a silver-haired beauty that the realm will welcome, has it crossed that brilliant mind of yours that this will be more of a scandal for your three boys?”

“My sons are Targaryens”

“No doubt about it, but certainly they do not look like the part, in comparison to their brothers and sisters they look more like (y/n) than you”

“You are not refusing to lay with me to hush the rumors, you simply do not have the urge for it, I remember a time that you did, mayhaps it was the image of a gullible girl that kept you going”

“Listen and listen well, wife, (y/n) is my eternal love, the woman that took me in her arms and showed me life, you are my blood, I protected you, I defended you, I offered you sanctuary just so you can once again have something to complain about, well that is it, if you dare to summon me again for such idiotic matters I will grab my brother by the neck and force him to annul the marriage do you understand?”

Daemon was furious, as he spoke he started taking steps towards her, to the point that her back found the wall and Daemon was inches away from her face, hissing out the threat of annulment like a snake that released poison to its prey.

Rhaenyra had never experienced such hostility from Daemon, to say she was shocked was an understatement as her eyes frantically tried to find focus on his, daemons eyes were filled with fury, Rhaenyra had crossed the line in his mind, (y/n) had been kind and honorable to the princess, doing her duty like a proper lady wife and Rhaenyra scoffed at her, at his (y/n).

“Alright”

“Wonderful, now you must excuse me, I have some urgent matters that need my attention”

Requests are open!

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moonlightsolo · 2 years

Text

eddie the bloody-handed

summary: your boyfriend, eddie, sacrifices himself in the upside down to keep you and dustin safe- but when you finally go back for him, something else has taken his place.

pairing: vampire!eddie x female reader

warnings: graphic depictions of blood, death, angst, mourning of a character, major spoilers for vol. 2, kinda villain!eddie at the end but with good morals

note: said i was gonna take a long break, but i couldn't help myself when this idea came up. also thinkin about a part 2???

all you feel is pain. pain as your heart wrings in your chest, as if it will burst at any moment. pain from your lungs not allowing you to take a full breath. pain as your bones ache with grief while you scream out for your dying boyfriend, watching him choke out his last breath.

eddie's body sits limp and heavy in your arms, erratic pleas tumbling from your lips. your hands cup his bloodied face as sobs roll out one after another, searching his still face for any sign of life.

“no, eddie! please! wake up!” your voice echoes in the alternate dimension, coughing hoarsely from the phlegm building in your throat.

“we have to go. right now. nancy's plan didn't work." steve’s worried eyes come into view in front of you, wide and full of fear.

"why didn't you just run?" you cry out to eddie, fists desperately grasping at his leather jacket.

harrington stands up after you ignore him, taking a step behind you. his arms swoop under your arms to pull you up to your feet unwillingly, “what?! no!” your voice shrieks in protest. your legs kicking as you fight against his efforts, “steve, please!” you suck in a wheezy breath, your chest shaking and bottom lip quivering. with a grunt, you press a kiss against eddie’s still warm forehead.

before you’re overtaken by steve’s strength, you yank an arm away from his hold to run your fingers through eddie’s unruly hair you’ve grown to love, “i love you, my sweet eds.” your watery eyes blink out numerous tears above him. the liquid slides off your face and onto eddie’s cheeks, carving tracks through the blood and dirt dormant on his skin. your body goes slack, succumbing to the battle.

“i’m so sorry.” his voice cracks, the thunder rumbles above you two as your feet drag against the pavement. steve sniffles as he helps you up the stairs of the munson’s trailer, towards the gate in the living room. steve's emotions are getting the best of him. he would never want to do this to one of his best friends, if it wasn't a life or death situation.

the rest of the group has already climbed through with a new rope they found. the discarded one sits beneath the gate, causing the memory of eddie slicing it to save you and dustin to flash in your mind.

another hiccup tumbles from your lips. a wet sniffle honks from your nose in attempt to suck up the mucus leaking from your nostrils.

steve aids in helping you climb, his hands sitting respectfully on your waist. “steve… i can’t leave him.” you whimper quietly under your breath, pausing your climbing to glance down.

“i know, honey. i know, just- get through this part and we’ll come back for him. it’s not safe for us to be down here right now.” his thumb rubs your sides in attempt to comfort you, urging you to keep moving.

your head nods, taking a deep shuttering breath before continuing your climb. small puffs of strained breath fall past your lips until you’re flipped right side up, back hitting the mattress that’s laid out on the ground.

robin’s hand reaches out for you, helping you up to your feet to allow steve to fall through. the floor rumbles beneath your feet, making you second guess if you’re still in the upside down.

the things around eddie’s trailer begin to tremble, glass clatters and the objects on the wall swing. your eyes dart around at the people around you, their face mimicking your panic-stricken one.

“steve! hurry up!” nancy shouts at him through the portal, making him quicken in pace, “i’ll be right back!” you announce as you turn on your heel.

“no! y/n! shit- what is she doing? there’s an actual natural disaster happening right now!” robin rants, loud voice slightly cracking as she follows. your legs quickly carry you back to eddie’s room, but not without tumbling into the walls from the force of the ground shaking beneath you.

the modular home whines and cracks around you as your body frantically pushes through his door.

the smell of his familiar cologne, weed and tobacco instantly smacks you in the face. tears instantaneously fall down your face, you stumble up to his electric guitar sitting pretty on the wall.

“come on! we need to go!” dustin screams at you and robin from the other room. the urgency makes you reach out for the instrument, slipping the strap over your head.

the dresser falls forward, drawers clattering as they fall out onto the floor of his room. you lunge forward to catch it before it could hit the ground, robin runs up to your side to help you keep it steady.

“i think we really, really need to go. like right now, right now!” her voice is strained with panic.

“i can’t leave without some of his stuff.” you huff out, dropping to your knees to vigorously search through his pile of clothes on the floor.

you find two of your favorite band tees before standing up swiftly, snatching his cologne that has fallen to the ground on the way up. robin stands back to let the wardrobe fall, stumbling backwards to clutch your upper arm.

she starts to lead you down the hallway, but a fallen polaroid catches your eye. you reach down as you run out of the room, snatching the flimsy photo. your eyes glance over it, a teary smile coming to your face when you realized what it is.

eddie is laying down in his bed with you, arm around your shoulders as you hide your face in his chest. he’s playfully sticking his tongue out at the camera, his hand on your shoulder in a rocker gesture. your poor boy, oh how you wish he would have just ran.

“holy shit! holy shit!” robin screams, her hectic pace quickens even faster. her scared voice makes you follow her eyes to peer at the ceiling, seeing that the gate has spread down the hallway.

“come. on! come on!” harrington waves you down from the front doorway, screaming at you both to hurry up. robin practically flies past steve, hopping past the steps instead of using them.

your arm is tugged along with her, so you have no choice but to follow her movements. you slide into the middle seat of nancy’s car. eyes watching as the gate burns a hole right through the top of the beloved trailer.

once steve hops into the passenger seat, wheeler screeches out of the grass, punching the gas as she speeds out of the trailer park.

all three of you in the back turn around to watch the gate crack the home in half, spreading to the ground outside. your heart aches as all the memories you shared with eddie are destroyed- just like that. you sorrowfully turn back around, sinking in your seat as tears silently run down your warm cheeks.

“everything… is just gone…” you whisper out, fingernails digging into your knees caps through your jeans. dustin tackles your side with a hug, holding onto you desperately as he cries against your shoulder.

he didn’t even have to talk for you to wrap your arms around the boy, the silence in the car is deafening as you comfort each other.

the ride home is dreadful. the rest of the party was informed that max was taken to the hospital, and the town is completely destroyed from all the gates merging.

the next few days are even worse. half of hawkins population has been relocated to the high school. where you were involuntarily volunteered to help out, since it’ll be ‘good for you’ to get out.

you’re busy slumming out peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for the people of hawkins, working in a machine-like routine. robin is occupied with vicki, and steve is somewhere folding clean donated clothes.

how is this supposed to help? it’s making you feel worse. you’d rather be absentmindedly strumming chords on the guitar instead of-

your running thoughts pause when you notice a crowd forming around the large windows.

the knife in your hand clatters to the table below you before you run past robin to push through the crowd. your heartbeat pounds against your ears, ignoring the clamor of the people you’re pushing out of the way.

you come to a clearing, noticing steve staring out the window in the front. you reach out to grip his shoulder to pull yourself to him, stumbling forward out of the packed crowd. his hand instinctively grabs yours to bring you closer to him, holding onto you protectively.

when you’re close enough, you finally realize why everyone has gathered. to other people, it seems like it’s snowing, but to you and your friends, the familiar upside down dust is floating freely in the air.

“steve…” you breathe out, hand gripping his just as harshly, “what’s going on?”

he turns his head, giving you a look that makes fear travel down your spine, “i think.. it’s merging with our world. another gate must’ve opened.”

the sound of another gate opening makes you perk up, mind cranking with millions of thoughts. steve realizes what just clicked in your mind, but he’s too slow to react. you’ve already pulled your hand away from him, and started pushing back through the crowd.

you need to find this gate in hawkins, you need to find eddie.

steve calls out your name repeatedly, not having the best luck weaving and bobbing through the crowds as he chases after you.

your feet take off in a sprint, dodging numerous children and people as you make your way through the maze of corridors in the high school. the area is heavily guarded by military personnel; which means you need to find a way past them.

you burst through the front doors of the school, trotting quickly down the steps. the door behind you bangs open, a panting steve emerging as he weakly screams your name.

you stop in your tracks, turning around to look at him with a stern glare.

“steven, you can either you help me, or you can ignore what i’m doing and go back to folding clothes.” you breathe out heavily, giving him an ultimatum.

he marches up to you, face twisted with frustration, “i don’t think you realize how dangerous it’s going to be to go back! i mean- seriously? there’s militia everywhere, they will shoot-!”

“you can lecture me all you want, harrington, but you will not change my goddamn mind.”

steve groans in annoyance, looking up at the darkened sky, “you obviously know i’m not going to let you do this by yourself, right?” he mutters, stressfully running his hand through his hair as he drops his head to stare at his feet.

a small grin curls up on one side of your mouth, your hands rest proudly on your hips, “i seriously love you, steve. now let’s go.” you slap your hand into his to pull him to your car but he doesn’t budge.

“we can’t do this alone.”

steve corrals robin and dustin from inside the school, gives nancy a call, but she refuses to help anyone go back into that hell. (that’s her exact words)

dustin knows exactly where eleven’s hideout is, so steve drives there with the help of dustin’s directions. the car rolls up to a very old, almost destroyed cabin.

the inter-dimensional dust seems to be thicker around this part, and there’s nobody to be found. “come on.” you usher, hopping out of the backseat to run towards the house. you knuckles rap against the wooden door, but to no avail.

you hop down the steps, ignoring the rest of them to run around back. you notice a trail that leads through the forest, so you opt to follow it; even with steve’s fatherly protests.

it seems like you’re going the right way since the dust is growing thicker, almost as if a gate is nearby. you come across a clearing, a grassy hill scattered with wildflowers. the scene behind it catches your eye, dark smoke billows into the sky from the cracked open earth.

it resembles a scene out of a fantasy book, like lava is spewing from the depths of the planet. the group is standing farther down the hill, surrounding something on the ground.

you run up to them, chest constricting with anxiety as you grow closer. there it is- the gate.

the people around you call your name in surprise from your arrival, but it falls upon deaf ears. every form of self-preservation is screaming at you to not jump through, but your heart aches for eddie; to find him and put his body to rest.

as you’re about to step through the gate, your body is held captive by someone gripping the back of your metallica t-shirt, “what do you think you’re doing?”

your head spins around to the person holding you back, seeing hopper, alive and well. “oh my god!” you shriek, throwing yourself at the man who quickly hugs you back with a hearty laugh.

“hey kid. how you doing?” his deep voice rumbles. this doesn’t seem real.

the floodgates let loose, tears soaking into his shirt. “i’m terrible.” you sniffle, wiping your nose with your hand, “my boyfriend… he- he died in there.” you point back at the gate with your lip quivering.

“i want to get him. bring him back to give him a proper burial. i just- i left him in there.” you sob, digging your face into his chest.

“hey, hey. i don’t think going back there is the best idea right now. we need a plan.”

you pull away from him, eyebrows furrowed in frustration, “i do have a plan. i’ve been thinking about it for days. i know what i need to do.” you pull away from him, turning on your heel to stare down directly into the gate.

it seems as if everything slows down around you. before you could decide if you want to jump into it, a tentacle from the gate whips out at your foot. the slimy extremity spirals up your leg to grip your body, pulling you harshly to the ground.

a scream leaves your mouth as you’re tugged towards the mouth of it, “no!” you yelp, scratching at the ground, dirt building up under your nails. you wanted to make this decision yourself, not to be forcefully taken in.

flashes of your friends running after your helpless body are seen between your head being hit repeatedly against the ground. your body is lashed around by the violent force of the creature as you fight against its efforts.

your strength is nothing compared to it, unable to keep yourself in your own world. the tentacle tightens it’s grip on your ankle as it pulls your body into the alternate dimension.

the thing detaches from you, throwing your body into the air as you scream into the oblivion. gravity takes over and you’re sent hurling towards the ground. your side slams into the solid terrain, your lungs left unable to work.

all the air is punched out of your body, instantly struggling to breathe as you army crawl away from the insistent tentacle. “augh- fuck.” you wheeze, unable to take a fully deep breath from the air being knocked out of you.

you roll onto your back, looking over at the gate that’s sealing up in the ground. the once colorful flowers around you seem to have molded and withered away, the sky is dark and menacing, lightning flashing red.

your consciousness seems to fade in and out, head twirling dizzily. you blink in attempt to clear your fuzzy eyesight, lungs finally regaining some strength.

your hand rests on your chest as you breathe in all the upside down grime. you close your eyes for a moment to try and relax, taking in deep and slow yet painful breaths.

something above you blasts air in your face, making you gasp and whip your eyes open. the dark silhouette of a large bat-like creature in the sky is shown by the flashing lightning.

adrenaline kicks in your nervous system, activating your fight or flight response. your legs scramble beneath you as the bat nose dives, and barrels down right towards you.

“shit shit shit shit!” you screech when you notice it growing closer, hands coming up to hide your face. it’s cold grasp embraces your body, trapping your arms by your sides and lifting you up into the sky.

the freezing air whips through your hair, your eyes hesitantly squint open to look around you. red flashes in the clouds you’re flying through, making your body tremble with fear. even with the cold temperature of the sky, sweat pools on the back of your neck.

the monster soars through the air, it’s fur slightly tickling your nose. since you’re pressed into it’s chest, you didn’t dare to look up at its face. you’re not dead… yet, so you decide to glance at your attacker.

it seems almost human like- it’s skin is soft, yet deathly pale, almost grey. it’s wearing a bloodied white shirt, it’s scarred sides in full view from the torn holes. you realize that it’s not fur, it’s curly hair that adorns it’s head.

oh my god.

the jawline, the hair, the ripped up hellfire club shirt…

“eddie?” you scream out over the loud wind in your ears. instantly, tears spring to your eyes as you wiggle in his grasp to bring one of your hands out. his tight grasp doesn’t budge, not letting you move as he traps you against his chest.

eddie drops beneath the clouds, making you squeal from the feeling in your abdomen. his arms tighten protectively around you before his wings widen, stopping the airflow to gently lower you both to the ground.

once your feet touch the grass, you stumble backwards to fully look at him. it’s eddie, but he doesn’t look like your eddie. his skin is much paler, clothes torn where he was bitten by the demo-bats, wings folded fingertips black with long dark nails, and leather jacket scuffed and ripped from his protruding wings.

“eds?” you call out his name again, stepping forward with your hand out. his head hangs, frizzy hair covering his face as he shakes and grips the roots at the top of his head.

“baby, please. look at me.” your voice whimpers out desperately, tears running down your cheeks.

“stay away!” he raises his voice, making you stop in your tracks. his shoulders quiver as he silently cries into his hands, “i’m a monster. i don’t want you to see me like this. why did you come back?”

you take another careful step towards him, waiting for him to tell you no before you take another one, “my love. you’re not a monster.” you mutter with a breathy laugh.

his head lifts up, looking at you with bright glossy red eyes instead of the dark brown ones you’ve grown so fond of. you stop to stare at him, looking over his slightly sunken cheeks. his perfect lips are still plump, and slightly pink.

“but i am.” he talks, flashing his pearly fangs in his mouth. the sight makes your blood run cold, but you refuse to let him know that it terrifies you.

“no, eds. you’re not.” you shake your head with a watery smile, reaching both your hands out for him. his bright eyes dart towards you, then to your hands then back down to his.

shakily, he lifts his arms so his hands were hovering above yours, fingertips grazing against each other’s. you slightly raise your hands, fingers wrapping around his slender wrists. the temperature of his skin is a great contrast to yours. it feels as if he’s been outside in the snow all day.

“i don’t wanna hurt you, sweetheart.” his voice is timid, quiet and scared.

“you won’t. i know you won’t.” you let your hands travel up his familiar arms, feeling the muscles and once full veins under his skin. you let your hands travel to his waist, pulling yourself towards him to embrace his rigid body.

at first, he’s tense when your body presses into his, but he soon softens against your touch. he nuzzles his nose into your hair, letting out a relieved shaky breath. “god, i missed you so much.”

“eds, you died in my arms. i thought i was never going to see you again.” you mumble into his dirty shirt, voice muffled.

“i did, but i woke up once you left. i turned into... whatever this is,” he motions to his body, “think i’m part demo-bat, or somethin’.” he chuckles, fluttering his wings behind him.

“like kas the bloody-handed, from d and d.”

“kas?” he tilts his head back to look at you with a sly smirk, “hearing you say that was so sexy.”

“only learned from the best.” you bring your pointer finger up to poke his nose, making his face scrunch up.

“can i kiss you or will you bite me?”

“maybe i will… maybe i won’t.” he shrugs playfully, gripping your hips to pull you closer. his infamous smirk makes your stomach flutter with butterflies.

you stand slightly on the tips of your toes, craning your neck up to peck a wary kiss against his cool lips. he chuckles against you, dipping down to catch his lips with yours again.

the temperature sends a shock down your spine, goosebumps rising on the surface of your skin. his nails slowly drag up the back of your arm, making another shiver wrack through your body.

the sharpness of his fangs press into your bottom lip as he deepens the kiss, wiggling his tongue past your lips to press against yours.

eddie’s hands glide down your sides to rest on the swell of your ass, squeezing the plushy flesh there. his wings flap happily behind him, curling in around your bodies to shield you both from the surroundings.

you pull back from the kiss, eyes fluttering open to look around, noticing the fleshy wings circled around you. “eds, you’re so beautiful.” you stare up into his crimson irises, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek.

the boy nuzzles his cheek into your palm like a puppy, happy to be here with you in this moment. touching you, feeling your warm skin under his icy fingertips.

the crunch of footsteps behind you makes him tug you against his chest possessively, wings tightening around your body to hide you as he whips around towards the sound.

eddie lets out a loud hiss, showing his fangs at the aggressors in front of him. his eyes are intimidating, baring his teeth as he tries to ward off the intruders.

“hey, hey, hey!” someone attempts to calm him down, their voice deep and muffled by something. “we don't want to hurt you. we’re looking for someone! a girl. she came in here, did you see her?”

his eyes flicker between the people, muscles softening against you. his wings slowly unravel, letting you in view. when you turn on your heel, you don’t exactly recognize them at first.

two men are standing in front of you, clothed in protective gear, flashlights and weapons in hand and bandanas over their nose and mouth. “steve? hopper?” you breathe out, squinting to get a better look.

“hey, yeah- it’s us.” steve’s eyes flicker to eddie, looking fearful of the winged man. “harrington?” eddie calls out with a shocked tone, hands on his hips as he leans forward to stare at him for a moment.

“should’ve known by the hair.” he gestures with a twirl on top of his own head, “sorry, buddy.” he chuckles, “didn’t mean to scare ya.”

“what happened?” harrington asks, eyes raking over munson’s silhouette with a frightened look.

“long story short… those uh bats? turned me into a vampire, kind of thing.” he nods his head once he thinks he explained it good enough, pursing his lips awkwardly.

“y/n. we have to go. you can’t stay here, come on.” hopper waves his hand as he moves toward you.

your eyebrows furrow, taking a step towards eddie. “i’m not leaving him. i just got him back.” you wrap your arms around his side.

eddie pulls you in protectively as hopper sighs and takes another slow step towards you both, “i don’t want to fight with you, let’s just go. it’s not safe.”

“excuse me. i don’t know who you are, but she says she doesn’t want to go, and frankly, i don’t want her to either.” eddie grows more and more protective by the moment, upper lip slightly twitching as he yearns to snarl.

the man completely disregards eddie, “did you not hear me correctly? it’s. not. safe. you can’t be breathing in all this shit for a long period of time.” hopper grows impatient, his broad shoulders huffing.

steve is behind him, eyes darting nervously between everyone as he stays quiet. “you gonna help me, or what, kid?” hopper shouts back at steve who clears his throat and steps forward.

“yeah, uh. you should probably listen to him.”

“or what?” you snap back, chest rising and falling quicker as anger brews deeply inside of you.

“or i’m going to drag your ass out of here.” jim states, obviously loosing his cool.

“over my dead body.” eddie steps forward, almost chest to chest with the taller man. his fangs slightly show as he finally snarls at him.

hopper let’s out a chuckle, but not one that’s sounds like you just told him a joke. “huh, okay.” his hand rests on the weapon in the holster of his waist.

“eddie. get us out of here.” you whisper up to your boyfriend, in fear for both of your safety. “hold on tight.” his arms wrap around your waist as he launches himself from the ground and into the air.

“hey?! hey!” hopper and steve yell at you both, watching from the ground as eddie disappears into the clouds.

your body shivers from the below freezing temperatures of the high altitude, gripping his body for some sort of solace.

“hold on, baby. tryna find your house.” he dips beneath the clouds, eyes looking over the area until he finds your home. he drops to the ground, leading you up to your doorstep.

eddie pushes open the front door, letting you walk inside first before following behind. he locks the door behind you both, letting you look around at your home.

“it’s like mine… but different.” you breathe out, walking up the steps to find your room. eddie folds his wings behind his back as he follows you up the staircase.

the door to your bedroom is already cracked open, letting you slip inside easily. the bed is messy and thankfully not covered in vines, “i’ve been staying here. since mine got destroyed by the giant gate.” he clears his throat awkwardly, watching you as you peer at all your familiar things.

“can you sleep?” you ask, turning to look at him leaning against the doorway.

“nope, i tried.” he huffs, rolling his eyes, “doesn’t mean i can’t cuddle with you while you do.” his eyes perk up, awaiting for your answer with a little smile.

“of course, darling. you can always cuddle me.” you plop on the bed, patting the empty space beside you.

eddie sulks up to you, sinking into the soft mattress. “you know, i tried to leave through a gate and it burned me. i mean, i healed quickly, but it hurt like a mother-fucker.”

your worried eyes flash to him, “wait- you can’t leave?”

he shrugs in response, gulping when he notices your emotions growing stronger, “don’t worry ‘bout it right now, babe. we’ll get henderson down here and that nerd will figure something out.” he wraps an arm around your shoulders, guiding you down into the bed.

“but for now, get some rest, okay? i can tell you’re tired.” he tucks you in under the blankets along with himself beside you.

he stares down into your eyes as he slightly hovers above you, “everything will be okay.” he pecks your lips with a reassuring smile.

“you’re right, we’ll figure something out.” you give him one last kiss before succumbing into his side, nuzzling against him to get comfortable enough to be able to fall asleep.

one of his wings sneaks underneath you, wrapping around the side of your body like a canopy. he absentmindedly presses soft kisses to your face, enjoying watching you sleep.

“i love you.” he whispers to your sleeping self, before he begins to press kisses down to your jaw, making his way to your neck.

eddie let’s his cold tongue poke over your jugular vein, feeling the heartbeat pumping blood through your body. his mouth salivates at the feeling, knowing you’ll be so tasty. you’re his girl, everything about you is tasty.

he’s careful not to wake you up while he drags his fangs across your soft skin. every bone in his body aches to feed, to sink his teeth into you.

the animalistic urges take over, eyes tearing up from being unable to control himself. a hoarse hiss emits from his mouth, making you jolt awake. he presses his nose into your skin as you wake up, “eddie?” your pretty voice whispers out to him, pushing against his chest but he doesn’t budge.

he trembles in your arms, lips opening to mouth at your skin, “eddie, you’re scaring me, baby. get off.” you whimper, pushing more aggressively against him.

“i’m so sorry. i just- i can’t be without you... please forgive me. i love you.” he weeps softly in your ear.

his words makes you go still, eyes going wide when you realize his fangs are pressing into your skin. “eddie!” you yelp once the pain grows hot on your neck, pushing your hands roughly at his chest.

a cry tumbles past your lips, his wings curl around you to hold you steady. his strength is no match against you as he slurps at your delicious blood.

the thick warm liquid hits his tongue, an almost orgasmic moan gurgles out against your neck, “eddie, please!“ your cries grow softer as more blood is drained from you.

the hits against his chest slowly fade to nothing as you go limp in his arms. he pulls back instinctively with a gasp, wiping his wet mouth on the back of his hand.

he cups your face once he realizes what he’s done, “i’m so sorry, baby. i’m so sorry.” he wails above you, wiping at the seeping blood on your neck with his hand. his thumbs swipe under your eyes to dry up your tears.

“you’ll wake up soon, sweetheart. everything will be okay.”

tags: @authorlovers @powerfultenderness

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #vampire eddie munson #vampire au #eddie munson smut #stranger things #stranger things spoilers #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #eddie munson fic #vampire eddie au #kas the bloody handed #dungeons and dragons #eddie the bloody handed

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javarium · 5 months

Text

under the clouds, in my heart | g. satoru

it’s these kinds of days that make Satoru the happiest — that remind him of the wonderful things he has in his life now; thunderstorms where his wife and children are safe and protected inside of his home are all he could ask for

w — post canon! gojo, canon-divergence, pregnant! reader, former first-year student! reader, mentions of underage relationship, mentions of being in a former! student-teacher relationship, Papa Satoru & Mama Reader, Satoru and Reader have a (growing) big family, this ended up shorter than I anticipated

a/n: another fix it fic you guys 🤧 this one has been in my drafts longer than 236

[ apart of the TFFTS universe! ]

He loves seeing you cozied up in his sweaters, no matter the time of year (he secretly keeps it colder than normal in the summertime so you’ll put them on, but he’ll never tell you that). He loves how the hemline rests at your knees, a testament to the cute height difference between the two of you.

With your pregnancy belly, like now, sweaters only seem reach mid-thigh.

Ah, he’s not complaining.

He’s back from a mission overseas a day early, one he committed to speed-running like a demon so he could get back to his growing family. It wasn’t too necessary, considering he doesn’t have to do many more missions nowadays. The only reason he was summoned was because of his long, long influence, to which he most definitely used to get back faster.

But the universe hits his Pause button the second he warps back into his lovely home. For good reason. His heavenly blue eyes take in the scene in front of him, soul imprinting this memory into itself for eternity.

Seiji, his five-nearly-six year-old firstborn, was curled up on your lap, head using your thighs as a makeshift pillow. Traitor. Satoru can hear little snores escaping his lips at the awkward position his head is in. But if Satoru tilts his head, he can see his son’s protective decision from where his head and body lay.

Sanari, his sweet daughter, is curled up by your left arm. Her white curls of hair are splayed out on the pillow behind her as her head rests on your shoulders. Satoru chuckles. He can clearly see drool at the corner of her mouth pooling onto the sweater of his you’re wearing.

Lightning lights up the sky outside. And suddenly, the gushing sound of rain is all Satoru can hear — a downpour. Huh, the clouds had been just as white as his hair earlier. He supposes anything can happen though.

He can’t even see outside anymore now. The greenery has been completely overtaken by the opaque gray of the intense rain and thunderstorm.

Satoru’s head snaps back to you and his sleeping offspring. As much as he wants to join, he can’t bring himself to. He wants to do anything besides ruin the picturesque moment in time before him.

Just look at the family he’s made for himself.

Ah, but the squirming toddler in your arms may do just that anyway. So he doesn’t debate taking Junpei from your arms as he begins to scrunch up his adorable little nose.

Besides, Satoru’s sure you’re bound to wake up soon. His Six Eyes tells him that because the cursed energy from within your tummy is starting to become restless, the twins are finally waking up.

A big family hadn’t been on his mind. You both agreed on leaving your family with Junpei as your youngest. Especially with you falling pregnant so soon with him after having trouble with Sanari’s pregnancy and birth.

But things don’t always go to plan, do they? Satoru muses.

Taking the littlest that'll soon be a big brother wakes you from your nap. You inhale and exhale deeply as your eyes flutter open, blinking quite a few times before your vision clears.

“….’toru~” Your sleepy inhale sounds like a cute sniffle; he can’t help but grin. “You’re home?”

“Surprise, baby,” Satoru mumbles as he sits down and leans over the couch and over your pregnant belly to sweetly kiss your lips. “I’ll be home for awhile this time,” he adds softly. One arm holds his son, the other wraps around the back of your shoulders, hand resting on your upper arm to gently pull your body into him to deepen the kiss. You can’t help but giggle against his lips, and he smiles and giggles into it in return.

Lightning brightens the sky, this time for the longest you’ve ever seen. And following it, is the mightiest thunderclap you’ve ever heard. It makes even your husband jump, surprised by the deafening boom. Your lips separate from Satoru’s, who’s looking out the window with you, impressed by the power of Mother Nature.

It wakes Seiji and Sanari, who despite their maturity for their age, show their age by the fat tears pooling at their eyelids. Junpei, fully awake, begins to cry too, slightly louder than his older siblings. The toddler buries himself into his daddy’s shoulder for comfort and protection. And when the other two see their dad, who’s back home early, they jump to him and do the exact same, hugging him and burrowing into his chest and neck.

You’d take a picture had your babies not been so scared.

When your hand rubs Seiji’s back, the little boy turns to you, eyes watery with fear. He takes two little steps on the couch and softly stumbles into your outstretched arms. He rests his bottom on your thigh, head burrowed into the crook of your neck, little hands balled up into fists with the sweater you were wearing between his itty bitty fingers.

“Come on, Seiji. Off Mama’s belly,” Satoru says, a slight tinge of worry to his voice as he sees him lay a little too heavily on your rounded middle.

The little boy gasps lightly and moves. “Sorry, Mama. Sorry babies.”

You chuckle and kiss his tiny forehead. Satoru presses his lips to the side of his son’s temple, his free hand reaching for his sides to tickle him, saying things about how cute he was.

Sanari takes the moment to detach from her daddy’s side and dives back into your ribs, albeit much more carefully than her older brother. She sniffles, still scared from the clash of thunder, but much calmer now that both her parents were home and awake. She burrows her head under your arm, almost behind your back, leaving her nose room to breathe in the cool air and the sweater that smells like both you and her papa.

It’s so cute, Satoru thinks. She’s the complete opposite of him. She’s the more quiet and reserved one of her siblings. And he still suspects that she still will after her younger twin siblings will be born. Satoru has a feeling, knows in his gut that they’ll be the most extroverted of his children, bouncing off the walls just like he does every day.

Though not so much anymore, heh. He’s still a childish person at heart, but his age is slowly getting to him, slowly beginning to chip away at his ability to be the flamboyant jujutsu sorcerer he used to be. He can feel the ache of time and age begin to take root in the bones of his body that had been so tempered.

In its place, however, took fatherhood, took a new and different kind of responsibility that he was more than excited for — days filled with new challenges, watching his kids grow as he smothers them with love.

His former students were more than capable of handling the load he used to. There’s plenty more of them nowadays than there is of him. With most of them all Special Grade sorcerers, too, he muses. Including you. But you don’t partake in missions like that, mostly being in the reserves of jujutsu society and using your reverse cursed energy like Shoko has.

Especially since becoming a mom.

Satoru sees the rainy day lulling you back to sleep. Being five-and-a-half months pregnant with twins, while also caring for three more while her husband was away would make any woman tired.

His offspring, however, were wide awake.

“Go upstairs and go to sleep,” Satoru says quietly. He sees the waves of fatigue hit every time you blink several times in one go. Your happy expression is getting harder to hold as you grow tired all over again, and Satoru thinks he’s going to have to carry you upstairs, fearing you falling.

But you, ever-stubborn, refuse. “I’m okaaay,” you reply, yawning into the words.

The white-haired man chuckles and shakes his head. “Go to bed,” he says, this time in a more commanding tone. “I’ll wake you up in a couple hours with food ready.”

And when he makes that face, the cutesy one that also means he’s more than happy to carry you to bed, you don’t argue. He does, however, help you up off the couch and watches from the bottom of the stairs to make sure you lose balance and tip backwards. Satoru blows you a kiss, to which you chomp down at, mock-devouring his kisses. He gasps, fake offended, and it gets the giggle out of you he’s hoping for before you go into the bedroom.

Satoru’s heart swells with adoration and love. It overflows even more as he turns back to his two sons and his daughter. God, he almost wants to cry. What did he do to deserve such happiness in his life? After everything he’s done, that’s happened to him, when did the universe decide a beautiful wife and sweet, adorable children were in the cards for him?

He doesn’t know. All he knows is that he’s going to hold his family close to his heart and protect them until his last breath.

a/n: this got published at a completely random time lmao, where did this even come from? this’ll flop for sure but everyone who reads pls enjoy anyway

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ganondoodle · 8 months

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thought about combining some of my yiga stories with the rewrite so

what if i took this old design for Ramuda (the thief that hid the clothing you can find in botw; i made him be the second founder of the yiga alongside koga) and used him as the boss of the shadow temple?

(in my yiga stories koga is a monk from back when the first calamity happened, after being hunted down by the royal family as their tech was being banned he and Ramuda founded the yiga; ramuda was a researcher and developed a way to seal malice into tattoos to make use of its life preserving and combat enhancing abilities; they used it first on themselves and it wasnt quite right yet the malice wasnt sealed enough within the tattoos and started to affect their mind leading them to get overtaken by their hatred for the royals and attempting to assassinate the king of their time, failing and being killed by the princess, hence the hole in his head, but they didnt die, the malice kept them alive but only in a zombie like way, they werent themselves anymore and were imprisoned in secret by the royal family- koga finished the research and used the more refined tech to do the same to himself which is why he is still alive to this day, side effects being mostly his extreme need for sleep, memory loss and loss of control when a bloodmoon hits)

so my thought was that the shadow temple is located beneath the akkala fort, but extremely hidden and kept a secret, the fortress being made in the first place to have constant control of it to make sure no one can even accidentally discover the dark secret the royal family of the past had kept (similar to the og shadow temple bc tbh it fits well into it all) ramuda being kept in an arena like cell at the end of it as he grew more agressive over time (id want to redesign them for this purpose but not by much, add more rot as they have been down there for centuries, and some sort of shackles, perhaps give him back arms that are shackled and in phase two they break free driven by the rage of recognizing that zelda is of royal blood once you defeat him they fall on their knees and start to disappear, but now that the malice is gone, and although they have no face left yet still recognize koga, weakly reaching for him with one hand, koga grabs it and as ramuda is already half gone his hand tightens the grip before disolving fully

even without spelling everything of this backstory out i think it work well as its clear koga had a personal connection to the person that turned into the boss and i think thats a realyl good thing, gives way more weight to it than just another mindless monster

a little more unsure is where the enigma stone was kept but one idea i had is that it was used to power whatever mechanism was put in place to keep ramuda locked in there, the only reason getting into the shadow temple at all being that it got damaged during the cataclysm and wasnt fully functioning anymore

(totk rewritten project)

#ganondoodles #zelda #art #ganondoodles talks #ganondoodles rewrites totk #yiga clan #weehooo another hour gone lol #thoughts go brrrrr

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eightstarr · 7 months

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hello baby i’m here to request some gym hcs for both abby and ellie (abby for sure goes but does ellie??)

💗💗 it have overtaken my life as you know

hi princess <3 i just got this but i immediately had more thoughts than i expected so here it is!!

abby has a strict routine that she designed a long time ago and hasn't changed in the slightest since. i'm a firm believer that she goes to the gym at night!! it works with her schedule and she likes that there aren't as many people around.

she has never missed a workout a day in her life. i know we know this but it needs to be stressed!! she has gone in tired, hungover and sick— or all three things at once. you tell her she should stay in bed when she has a cold and she says, "it'll be good for me, baby, i'll sweat out the germs."

you look unimpressed. "is that a medical term?"

she slips on a loose tank top over warm skin stricken with chills and comes to kiss your forehead, something quick, her lips barely making contact. a sentiment more than a gesture. she doesn't want you getting sick. "it's an abby term," she explains, and smiles like she does when she wants to get out of trouble. "even more official than a medical term."

i know everyone wants to go with abby to the gym and live out the plot from a lesbian porn video but i'm sorry to say that if you do come along, she's not paying attention to you <3 she'll compliment you to death on your outfit before you get there and kiss you stupid right before you go in, but as soon as you cross the door she's gone!! she's been doing it for too long to let distractions slip in. she clicks into that comfortable headspace and wears expensive noise canceling headphones and she loves you, she really really does, but she's not looking at you once until she's done. she'll let you come if you really want to, though, she likes knowing that you're watching her. sometimes she'll avoid her carefully prepared towel and wipe the sweat from her forehead with her shirt, just for you! but that's all you're getting.

abby has like, two gym buddies and they're both men in their early 60s that go there maybe once a month but they chat for like forty minutes when they see each other! she gets really excited. every cool gym person that's there everyday wants to be her friend but she doesn't wanna talk about working out, she wants to hear about paul's granddaughter and dan's new lawnmower, thank you very much!

definitely has strong opinions on water bottles. has tried so so many and you cannot tell her that her current one isn't the best in the market. i will not elaborate on the details because i do not know enough about the subject, but she can tell you all about it if you ask! please ask.

ellie doesn't go to the gym but she runs after the bus when she's late sometimes :) does that count? i just asked her and she said that it counts.

#doctor!abby #modern!abby #loser!ellie #modern!ellie #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #abby anderson headcanons #ellie williams headcanons

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cahootings · 19 days

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It’s impossible to capture or describe what totality feels like. It becomes viscerally clear why some ancient civilizations feared eclipses, saw them as anger from the gods. Even well knowing the science behind it, TEACHING it, you get overtaken by the Wrongness of it all. The minutes before and after totality, when the sun still shines but the light hitting the ground dims drastically all around you; the air changes, the temperature lowers, a cool breeze kicks up; the geese start to squawk and fly, the crickets start their chirping. And when the sky has reached a haunting midday sunset all around you, you see the sun, this thing that is so reliable and predictable and constant, this thing that gives us life, disappear and transform into a pitch black disk before your eyes. The absence of its light and the bright spray of the corona behind the moon looks like someone tacked an odd lamp on a wall. It doesn’t make sense, it doesn’t look like it can be real. I’ve seen it twice now and it still seems so impossible.

I can’t believe how different this one felt from 2017. The bigger shadow allowed nearly two more minutes of totality, and I felt every second of those four minutes. It was a noticeable full sensory experience - I felt the cooling air so much more, we sat in the dim pre-totality twilight for so much longer, the geese and the crickets warned us early. When totality hit we got to relish in it. I’m glad I snapped a few hasty photos but mostly I just couldn’t tear my eyes away. I didn’t want to blink. The corona was sprawling, and those bright pink solar prominences took my breath away. There is nothing that compares to that sight. Nothing comes close. I’m so grateful to have gotten to see this. I’m so lucky.

But my favorite part by far is seeing so many people I love getting to see it too. I love sharing this. I want to see everyone’s pictures and videos!!!! We really saw this impossible thing!!!

#eclipse 2024 #sorry if you follow me on other socials this is going everywhere LOLLLLLLL #anyway here’s one minute of me losing my shit

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tomriddlehyperfixataion · 8 months

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Rumor has it - Tom Riddle x reader - Part 1/2

...i-i dont even know, enjoy this fic that I've been giggling and kicking my feet over Afab reader, has a last name, she/her reader

There was a rumor going about school-that apparently had started from a Slughorn party-after party. It was quite outlandish-many didn’t believe it-others hoped it was true and they were the one involved in it.

What was that rumor? Tom Riddle had a crush.

Who was he crushing on? No one knew, all anyone got out of him was the word ‘yes’ when asked if he liked anyone during truth or drink. It had been the first time anyone had seen him blush-his pale cheeks and ears during apple red, his cheeks puffed slightly as he sunk into his chair and sipped at his butterbeer.

Many wondered who started this rumor, and if it was true or not; because Tom had never shown any interest in romance before-boy or girl. He had flirted once or twice-then usually abandoned that tactic when he got what he wanted-which garnered him a playboy title. He really wasn’t; a playboy by definition was someone who didn’t care for personal feelings and had many sexual relationships.

Tom didn’t care for sexual relationships, before now(as the rumor suggested) he hadn’t even had a crush before.

The great hall was a mess of voices, many of them whispering about the rumor and Tom felt eyes on him as he tried to study. It was bloody study hour after all-that usually meant ‘be quiet’ or at least be respectful to those who are trying to study.

“Who do you think it is?” one voice whispered from the Ravenclaw table-which right now had several Slytherin and Hufflepuff sitting at it-since house tables were really only assigned during dinner. “I dunno, I know Olive Hornby hopes it’s her heh-did you see her face when she first heard the rumor?”

“yeah, her eyes lit up like Christmas had come early,”

Tom sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose-heavily regretting not taking a shot when he had been asked that question during the after-party. He had thought-possibly, maybe, it wouldn’t spread about. He had thought what happened at a party-stayed at a party. But he had been wrong, and now his secret was out and being spread like wildfire.

Yes-Tom Riddle had a crush, and he had had it since 4th year. Who? He would never tell; he had hardly admitted it to himself this past summer when he realized why this particular person plagued his thoughts like no other had before-they had even overtaken the chamber and horcruxes in his mind.

Tom was 16 years old, and dealing with liking someone for the first time.

He detested it(he didn’t), he just wanted them to disappear from his mind and life and never have to think of them again(a lie, he wanted nothing but to be around them all the time).

“Honestly, you’d think Tom Riddle is the only boy in existence with how they talk about him,” Tom glanced up from his potions work, seeing Viktoria Klopstock arm In arm with (y/n) Alexander; the two talking about the rumor swirling through the school. (y/n) snorted at Viktoria’s quip and shook her head, catching Tom’s eye for a split moment and smiling at him like she always did.

Tom couldn’t help but stare.

“Well, he is the heartthrob of the school, or did you not say that only a few months ago?” (y/n) teased back, laughing as Viktoria sputtered and glared at (y/n) with flushed cheeks, her pale complexion stark against her dark brown hair. “You-I was simply making an observation!“ (y/n) just hummed in response to Viktoria’s sputter, sitting down with their other friends, Walter Deville and Lucy Billington, and laughing as Viktoria attempted to defend herself over her past comments on Tom.

“Keep telling yourself that Viv, we all know you fancy him,” (y/n) teased and Viktoria just kissed Walter in protest, who chuckled and shook his head, brushing back his dark curly hair. (y/n) tossed her head back while she laughed and Lucy shook her head at her friends, returning her attention to her divination book.

Tom tore his eyes away when (y/n) glanced back at him, swallowing harshly against the dryness of his throat.

Yeah, Tom Riddle had a crush all right, and no one would ever know who it was.

But…

Tom glanced back up-seeing (y/n) still looking at him, seemingly lost in thought and Tom had to look away as he felt heat buildup in the tip of his ears.

He had a feeling it wouldn’t stay a secret for long.

“Hey Tom!” Tom forced himself to stay perfectly calm as he turned on his heel to face (y/n), who was walking up to him with her broom in hand-clad in her Slytherin quidditch uniform. “Alexander,” Tom greeted, mentally patting himself on the back as he forced down the waver of his voice. “is there something you need?”

(y/n) shook her head, just smiling, a strand of her hair falling into her eyes. “Not really, just wanted to know if you’ll be at the game this Saturday?” Tom shrugged, he had never been one for quidditch, it was a brutal game that always resulted in pointless injuries. But when he looked at (y/n), who seemed so excited at the prospect of him being at that game(her first game actually, a chaser had gotten injured and she was finally coming off the bench after being on the team for a year), he caved.

“I’ll be there,” Tom said instead of saying he was going to be busy, and (y/n) beamed. Tom couldn’t help the flutter of his chest at the sight of it, meant for him. “what time? I’ve never been to a match, not since first year anyway,” Tom asked and (y/n) happily told him what time the match was, it was Slytherin against Ravenclaw, and he nodded, taking a step back as she went off to practice, giving him one last grin.

“Oh I’m so doomed,” Tom breathed, feeling that now familiar heat travel to his cheeks and ears, catching a glimpse of his apple-red face in the reflective glass of a window. “so doomed.”

To this day-he had trouble figuring out why he was attracted to (y/n), it wasn’t as if she had come out of nowhere, they were in the same year, and same house-and she was a high-class halfblood(pureblood father and halfblood mother), from one of the richest families in the uk-right behind her friends, Deville being the richest of the four.

Tom had noticed her from the start really, while he was walking down the cars of Hogwarts Express, seeing her with her three friends laughing away with her head in Deville’s lap, a chocolate frog in hand. She had seen him and smiled, waving at him shyly.

Tom had just blinked-the socially awkward child he had been-and carefully waved back, then continued down to find an empty car.

Then she just kept showing up, sitting next to him in class, being partnered with him in assignments; always smiling at him and greeting him with a wave. Tom simply got used to her, almost began expecting her really, she was probably the only person in Hogwarts that didn’t annoy him to all hell just by existing.

He supposed that’s how she slipped through the cracks-by not being one of the several banes of his existence.

But then the calm expectancy became heat rushing to his face when she sat down with him in the library to study, butterflies in his chest and gut when she glanced at him, trembling hands when she smiled at him, sharp intakes of breath when her hand rested on his shoulder to pass by him in a busy hall.

Tom was utterly infatuated with her and he had no idea how to handle it, but he dreaded the idea of disappointing her(agreeing to come to a stupid game just so she would be happy), felt the burning pit of jealousy in his gut when someone got far too close to only want friendship(he had never wanted to fist fight someone before then), and had the desperate need to just-hold her hand.

He had never wanted to hold anyone’s hand before.

But then he wanted to be around her all the time, just to stare at her freely, curl his fingers into her hair, touch her lips with his thumb, and bring her into a kiss.

Tom groaned at the thoughts going through his mind, his face burning against his palms as he rubbed his eyes. He was really so doomed, here he was-attempting to unlock all the secrets of the chamber of secrets and become one of the greatest wizards of all time-and he was constantly plagued by thoughts of (y/n) Alexander.

He remembered only a few days ago, after he had been researching horcruxes and the chamber-they had been the only thing resounding through his mind as of late. But with a call of his name and (y/n) asking him if he was okay(he was visibly distracted) Tom had just nodded, feeling his lip quirk up without his control. And for the rest of the day, the only thing he could think of was (y/n) Alexander.

Tom sat down in potions class, getting out all his things, but still-the only thing in his head was (y/n) Alexander. Her eyes, her lips, the curve of her jaw and cheeks, the way her head tossed back when she laughed particularly hard, the curl of her nose when she snarled at Black during practice because he had made one too many comments.

“So doomed,” Tom muttered to himself, getting out his quill and ink well, looking up at Professor Slughorn as he greeted the glass.

Oh to be young and to be in love.

The wind from the quidditch pitch threw his hair around-his scarf tucked tightly into his jacket so it didn’t fly away. It was loud, very loud, something Tom expected considering he could hear the crowd from the bloody library sometimes.

“Hello, and welcome to Hogwarts' sixth match of the season! Today’s game, Slytherin vs Ravenclaw!” The respective houses roared with support for their teams, and Tom saw the Slytherin team soar high above the pitch, his eyes drawn to a particular player.

Alexander; 3

She had a wild grin on her face-the wind curling her hair and flushing her face, she zoomed past Black and settled with her teammates as they all gathered in the air. The referee stood at the bottom and said something Tom couldn’t hear and opened the box that sat at her feet; in an instant-the bludgers flew up, along with the snitch.

With a blow of a whistle-the quaffle was tossed into the air and the game began.

(y/n) had snatched it before anyone else could grab it-flying up and over the Ravenclaw’s heads, laughing as they gave chase. She was quick-a blur to the naked eye, but that was the same for the other players, however- there was something about her speed; flying just fast enough to keep out of reach.

She easily made the first score-throwing her first up in victory as the bell rang to announce it. “(y/n) Alexander makes the first score of the game! Ten points to Slytherin!!”

Tom couldn’t keep his eyes off (y/n), her smug smirk giving him those silly butterflies as she flew back into the game, avoiding bludgers and other players with graceful ease. Tom’s knuckles cracked as a bludger came soaring right for her-but she quickly noticed and hooked her elbow around her broom, swinging around, under, and getting back on top within a split moment as the bludger zoomed right where her head had been.

“Holy shit! She’s good!” someone yelled from behind him, the Slytherin crowd cheering loudly as someone scored once again, (y/n) laughing heartily as she caught the quaffle from her teammate and flew off-her grin turning to a glare as she nearly crashed into one of the Ravenclaw chasers.

“It's odd seeing you here!” Someone yelled over the noise of the crowd and Tom spared a glance to see Abraxas-who almost seemed nervous. Tom just shrugged, looking back up and searching for (y/n), who had disappeared from his gaze the moment he looked away.

“I think I get sports now,” Tom just said(which made Abraxas sputter in confusion because Tom had loathed quidditch before now), finally locking onto (y/n) again, his lip quirking as she snatched the quaffle mid-air, suddenly flying up as two Ravenclaw players tried to slam into her on either side-only to get each other and fly off their brooms.

“oooh!” Nott laughed from behind Abraxas, the crowd watching in tense anticipation as (y/n) continued flying up, and then suddenly-she started free-falling, the quaffle and her broom still tight in hand. Tom tensed-wondering what was going on-but he relaxed as he saw the grin on (y/n)’s face.

Just as she passed by the horde of Ravenclaw players that had been trying to get back the quaffle-she straightened out and headed straight for the pitch, faking out the Ravenclaw keeper and scoring another 10 points.

“That’s another 10 points to Slytherin! They lead Ravenclaw 30 to nothing!”

Tom squinted at the roar of the crowd around him and quickly planted his hands over his ears-it was far too loud for him now, but he didn’t want to leave early-it might make (y/n) disappointed that he left.

At that moment-(y/n) spotted him and she looked overjoyed to see him, waving eagerly. Tom grimaced back and she laughed, tossing her head back like she always did. Tom felt that now familiar heat burn at his ears and he sighed-glad he was covering them at the moment.

No one could say (y/n) Alexander wasn’t a brilliant chaser-through the next half hour the match played-she scored more than half the points Slytherin gained, and snatched the quaffle mid-air as the Ravenclaw chasers attempted to pass it multiple times.

She was quickly becoming a threat, grinning while bludgers and other players tried to knock her off-but she easily dodged each one, even jumping off her broom at one point to avoid a collision.

At one point she went high up-avoiding any players or bludgers and wiped her sweat-soaked face with her jersey, allowing all to see her stomach-which made Tom’s face flush with both jealousy and something else as the crowd whistled at her, some of the boys cat-calling her.

Tom never wanted to hex someone more.

But she caught his eye as she brought down her shirt and grinned, and Tom had a feeling she had done that on purpose-which made him think; why would she? unless she either just wanted to rile him up or…Tom swallowed down the hope in his throat as he thought; (y/n) might’ve done that to get his attention.

Well, she had it-if that’s what she wanted-and Tom doubted she would lose it.

“Rouge bludger!” someone yelled and Tom tore his eyes away, only to comically widen them as a bludger came rocketing towards him-right at him-all of the beaters were on the other side of the field, and Tom wondered how they had hit the dammed thing over to the stands. He felt hands on his shoulder-most likely Abraxas-that tried to pull him down and away-but the bludger was fast and Tom had a feeling he would be spending the next week in the hospital wing.

But something flew right where the bludger had been heading and snatched it out of the air-only feet away from where Tom was standing. He let go of the breath he had been holding and looked over the edge-seeing (y/n) with the bludger in the crook of her arm, it struggled to get out but she had a tight grip. Her face was set in anger-her eyes saying ‘murder’ as she threw the bludger right back at the ones who had accidentally hurled it at Tom-unfortunately being her own team.

She yelled something and even Black seemed to curl under her words-nodding sheepishly with the rest of the team.

Tom felt his stomach flip-flop, his mouth going dry and his face blooming with red as she pointed back towards him and continued to yell-the match being put to a halt while the referee took the rogue bludger and checked it(it was supposed to be bewitched to redirect the moment it went towards the stands)-“you nearly hit Tom!” she yelled over the roar of the wind and crowd, her lip curled into a snarl.

“You all right, my lord?” Abraxas asked, his hands still on Tom’s shoulder, and Tom nodded-eyes locked onto (y/n), who glanced back at him and drew her eyes all over him-nodding when she saw he was perfectly fine.

“Just fIne,” Tom said, ignoring the way his voice cracked like it did when he hit puberty. Abraxas frowned but nodded, the match soon resuming.

Tom really understood sports now, he really did-because that was really really hot.

The crowd started to chatter-all about (y/n), about how she caught a bludger(which-Tom learned just now-were made of IRON?!) going full speed and continued to hold it with one hand-even as it attempted to escape.

Tom realized that’s maybe why Black looked so sheepish-(y/n) had caught and held onto a 150-ish pound iron ball with no injury(to his knowledge), she was not a witch to be trifled with.

And Tom’s heart and stomach did another flip, his eyes once again on (y/n) as she used her anger to score three more times, and finally; the snitch was caught by the Slytherin seeker-ending the game.

Slytherin had won by a landslide, 240 to 60.

The Slytherin crowd exploded into cheers as the other houses booed or left the field in defeat, and from the stands-Tom could see Black hold out his hand to (y/n), and offer her the main chaser position. She grinned and took his head, her eyes turning a bit sharp as she tightened her grip, and Tom’s stomach did one last flip as he saw Black wince.

“Oh I'm so bloody doomed,” Tom muttered to himself over the blaring cheers of the crowd-turning on his heel as he saw the Slytherin team make their way off the pitch.

He didn’t even bother to look behind him to see if Abraxas and Nott were following-they always did. He made it down the rickety stairs in record time, panting slightly as he caught his breath-seeing (y/n) with the team making their way back to the castle.

Tom swallowed harshly, seeing McLaggen waltzing up to her, looking all too smug for Tom’s taste. “Alexander!” Tom called out right when McLaggen opened his mouth-both (y/n) and McLaggen looking shocked to hear her name from Tom’s mouth.

From behind him-he could feel the bewilderment from Abraxas and Nott. But (y/n) smiled at him, her hair wind-swept and cheeks slowly cooling back down, sweat drying on her face and neck. Tom licked his lips, feeling his ears start to burn as she waved off her team and walked towards him-broomstick in hand. “Tom!” she said, grinning still, leaning on her broomstick as she stopped in front of him and tilted her head. “How’d you like your first game since first year?”

“Good-great-you,” Tom cleared his throat-suddenly very nervous, his throat dry and ears burning, his usual calm and collected behavior nowhere to be seen. (y/n) bit her lip a bit-something that made Tom’s brain fumble and he paused in his words.

Oh, yes, he was gone for this girl.

“You-you played great, can’t say I’ve seen a better chaser,” Tom finished his sentence, breathing slowly as (y/n) just grinned, her eyes twinkling.

“Thank you, but you also don’t have many other chasers to compare me to, for all you know-I could be dog-shit.” Tom found himself snorting and shaking his head at (y/n)’s lack of elegant words, waving his hand towards the pitch. “Believe me, I saw enough from your teammates and the Ravenclaw chasers-you were the best on the field.”

(y/n) laughed, her head tossing back with the action and Tom found himself staring, his gaze softening as (y/n) continued to giggle as she calmed down, shaking her head as she bit her lip. “Honestly Tom, you’re funnier than others give you credit for,” Tom just hummed, he thought he was hilarious.

Thankfully, (y/n) seemed to think so too. Tom opened his mouth again, glancing around-seeing McLaggen staring daggers into him-but he quickly looked away when he caught Tom’s eye. “I just wanted to say, thank you for catching that bludger, I would probably be in the hospital wing right now if it weren’t for you,” Tom said with his usual charming grin, patting himself on the back for returning to his normal behavior.

(y/n) nodded and clapped his arm once, sending fire through his veins at her touch-his mouth going dry again. “Like I was gonna let it hit you, but, you’re welcome Tom. What would the world be like without your pretty face?” (y/n) teased and Tom’s mind went blank.

“You think I’m pretty?” Tom asked, his voice cracking slightly as his jaw went slack, the flush on his ears growing towards his cheeks as (y/n) nodded with a grin, her eyes sparkling still. He knew most of the students of Hogwarts found him attractive-but to know (y/n) thought he was pretty-wow…just-wow.

“Yeah, I do,” (y/n) breathed out, her eyes traveling his face and Tom didn’t mind being looked at like that for the first time. Usually, he hated being studied like he was just a pretty thing to look at-but-if it was (y/n)? he wouldn’t mind being studied all day.

“uh-cool,” Tom muttered back-shaking his head. Cool? Cool?! Just-cool? ugh, how lame was he?! “um-did, any chance you would like to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?” Tom asked, eyes going wide at what tumbled out of his mouth, where did that come from?!

He could feel the shock and disbelief from Abraxas and Nott-considering Tom had not shown interest in anyone ever, and now was suddenly asking out (y/n) Alexander.

And then they realized; this was the girl Tom had admitted to liking at the after-party, and they grinned at each other while they watched Tom practically make a fool of himself in front of his crush. (y/n) seemed to come to this realization as well, and she stuttered for a moment, blinking quickly before she nodded, stepping closer to Tom. “I would love to, um, three broomsticks? I know a corner in there that’s nice and quiet?”

Tom nodded-he really didn’t go to Hogsmeade often, he found nothing of interest there. But he supposed now there was someone of interest there worth going for-especially if she already had a place for them to go that was quiet and secluded, just how he liked it. “Sounds good,” Tom breathed, a smile growing on his face that had (y/n) staring at him, and her smile grew, reaching to her eyes.

God, he never stood a chance, did he?

“Great, I’ll-I’ll see you then,” (y/n) said, her voice wavering with excitement and Tom nodded, his hands behind his back as (y/n) skipped back with a grin, waving goodbye and then running towards her friends who had been waiting for her, and Tom couldn’t help his smile when she screamed and jumped into Viktoria’s arms. “Tom Riddle asked me out!!!”

“You just asked (y/n) Alexander out,” Abraxas said from behind Tom and Tom whirled around, very aware that his face was bright red and he was grinning like a madman. “yeah-I did….I have no idea how to go on a date,” Tom said after a short pause, still grinning-he couldn’t stop.

Abraxas just laughed and Nott stared, unsure of how to handle any of this. “We’ll help, my lord.”

The next week passed by both quickly and all too slowly. Nerves jumbled about in Tom’s gut as the weekend came ever closer, he could hardly focus in classes-all he could think about was (y/n). God, he had actually asked her out-after nearly two years of staring and (unknowing) yearning, he was going on a date with the first person he had ever felt attracted to. His stomach had been doing somersaults all week at the thought of her, of their upcoming date-and the idea that it might turn into…something more.

The Chamber and his Horcrux research had been pulled off the stove-only (y/n) Alexander remained.

His followers were-no help. They just made him more nervous will all the “advice” they gave him.

“Don’t be overbearing,”(duh?)

“Don’t only talk about yourself, girls hate that,”(also duh)

“But don’t ask about her too much she’ll get overwhelmed,”(Tom was beginning to doubt these knuckleheads had ever gone on a date)

“make sure to order for her, girls like it when a man takes charge,”(yeah he wasn’t going to take Black’s advice)

“be cool and aloof-like you always are really,” (Tom thought (y/n) liked it when he fumbled a bit honestly, she seemed charmed when he was making a fool of himself asking her out.)

But really, Walter Deville had the best advice for Tom when the time came around for the date-he took Tome aside as he passed by him in the hall, giving a stern look to Tom’s followers who were ready to protest. “Look, Tom, I’m going to give it to you straight, (y/n) is a lady, you must remember that, but she is not judgmental, she does not care for your background nor your status.” Tom felt some of the nerves in his gut decrease a bit-but Walter wasn’t done. “She likes you, Tom, she really does like you, but she has a very high standard-not out of training from her mother or the family, but for herself, if you do not treat her with kindness and be a false version of yourself around her; she will drop you quicker than a basilisk can kill. Treat her well, and treat her kindly, or you will regret it.”

Tom swallowed at the last bit-very much hearing the seriousness in Walter’s voice. It wasn’t a ‘we will hurt you if you hurt her,’ it was ‘she will hurt you if you hurt her,’ and Tom didn’t doubt she would. “Clear?” Waler asked, grinning as Tom nodded. “Crystal,” Tom muttered, stumbling forward as Walter laughed and slapped Tom’s back.

“Oh don’t be so grim! I have faith in you, Tom,” With another pat on Tom’s back, Walter walked off, and Tom was just as nervous as he was before.

Tom had very few outfits, he had his uniform and its extra pants, shirts, and vests, his uniform from the orphanage, a suit(a gift from the Malfoys for a Christmas party from last year), and very little extra. He ended up wearing the suit because he didn’t think anything else fit the situation.

He hoped (y/n) wouldn’t be put off by the lack of casualty, but he had an inkling she wouldn’t mind at all.

She didn’t, her eyes traveling his well-dressed form with appreciation and a heat that made Tom’s ears burn, coughing slightly into his fist. “hi,” she said quietly, stepping closer to him as he waited for her by the carriages to Hogsmeade. “hello,” Tom said back, his lip quirking. (y/n) Alexander looked-breath taking, her skirt flowing gently in the late fall breeze.

“You look very handsome,” (y/n) said with a soft smile, her hands moving up to tug at his suit jacket, holding each side with both hands and getting a better look at what lay beneath the jacket. “Thank you, you look-“ Tom could hardly finish his sentence, just letting out a slow breath that had (y/n) giggling, her smile growing.

“let’s get going, shall we?” (y/n) asked, taking Tom’s arm as he offered it and he nodded, leading her to a carriage and helping her inside like the gentleman he was; taking the seat from across her-the two falling into a comfortable conversation as the carriage went off to Hogsmeade.

(y/n) indeed had a quiet corner for the two of them, hidden away from the noise and tucked away from sight, letting them talk quietly and share small smiles and glances they didn’t have to worry about others seeing.

Tom, quite honestly, had never expected to have such fun on a date; he never expected to go on a date ever really. But here he was, on one with (y/n) Alexander, at the three broomsticks; drinking butterbeer and sharing an appetizer.

Tom could hardly keep track of what they talked about-but he felt himself grow more comfortable and his nerves almost disappear the longer they sat there. Tom chuckled at something she said and she stared-smirking a bit as Tom cleared his throat at her gaze-his ears burning. “I like your laugh,” she muttered, leaning on her arm, her eyes burning into his soul.

“Thank you,” Tom muttered, licking his lips nervously, which were quirking up into a smile that mirrored (y/n)’s gentle one. “You don’t laugh often, do you? At least not genuinely.” (y/n) asked, tilting her head a bit and Tom shrugged.

“Not much that I find genuinely funny, really,” Tom muttered, rolling his jaw a bit but (y/n) just laughed, biting her lip. “Suppose you find me funny then? Good, wouldn’t do us any good if you didn’t.” Tom laughed gently again, but nodded in agreement.

“I do,” Tom mumbled, hiding his slight flush behind his glass of Butterbeer. (y/n)’s soft grin widened and Tom’s blush darkened a bit, drifting his eyes away from (y/n)’s gaze. God he was absolutely gone for this girl, he really never stood a chance.

They talked for a bit longer, and (y/n) eventually gave him a look that made him go quiet, tilting his head in curiosity. “this is your first date, right?” she asked and Tom slowly nodded. “yes, I’ve never been interested in anyone else,” Tom said honestly and (y/n) glanced away with a chuckle, hiding her grin in her shoulder.

“I don’t suppose it’s yours though,” Tom said, glancing down at his hands. (y/n) nodded, but then shrugged. “Yes, but this is the first date I actually wanted to be on though, so-you’ve already made top marks.”

Tom frowned, glancing up at (y/n) who was shifting in her seat. “Wanted to be on?” Tom asked curiously and (y/n) nodded, glancing down at her watch.

“Yes, my mother likes to set me up on dates hoping i'll find a suitor that adheres to my tastes-but I have yet to find one in the ones she sends. Usually, they’re all pompous bores who couldn’t care less about me other than my money and what status they’ll gain by being with me,” Tom slowly nodded, hoping she didn’t think he was doing the same thing.

Honestly-half the time he forgot (y/n) was an Alexander, or was more well known as Lady (y/n) Alexander, and not the amazing girl he had been crushing on since 3rd year and had only realized it the previous summer.

“Why is she setting you up on dates?” Tom asked, leaning back in his chair, his face set into a perfect calm. (y/n) sighed, leaning into her palm, her eyes distant. “She wishes for me to marry by twenty, something about heirs and my duty as Lady Alexander,” Tom swallowed the pit in his throat, his eyes drawing down. He knew (y/n) did not care for status and money, but her parents most likely did, and Tom was not a man of status-even if he was descended directly from Slytherin, and from his limited research, his father was of the high class.

But Tom had no money, and his father had no knowledge of him-besides, Tom had no want for that acknowledgment.

“Tom,” he looked up, and swallowed again as (y/n) reached across the table and took his folded hands with a smile. “things like status and money do not matter to my family, my mother just wishes for me to be taken care of if anything should happen to the Alexander fortune. Most of all she wishes for me to find love, to be treated kindly, and be held dearly; if I married a poor man with nothing to his name-if all he could give me was his heart and soul-my family would be overjoyed that I had found a man like that.”

Tom just stared, that pit in his throat only growing heavier as he blinked back a burn in his eyes. “Oh,” Tom breathed instead of responding, his cheeks flushing as (y/n) smiled at him. His heart was beating out of his chest-trying to hop into (y/n)’s hands and be kept.

He was so-fucking-doomed.

“Is-is he smiling? Actually smiling?” Black asked quietly as he, Abraxas, Nott and Mulciber all watched as Tom walked through Hogsmeade with (y/n) Alexader tucked into his side, the two holding hands and talking quietly-both of them smiling.

“Yep, he’s smiling…” Abraxas muttered, leaning against a wall and watching as the two new lovebirds walked past, (y/n) tugging Tom into honey-dukes with shining eyes as Tom chuckled fondly.

“He is gone gone for her,” Avery said as he walked up, hands in his pockets. The other boys nodded; they had a feeling certain planned things had quickly gone down the drain all thanks to (y/n) Alexander.

Oh, the things Love can change.

-one year later-

Tom was very sure he was deeply in love with (y/n) Alexander, for one year after they began dating-she stood with him in the chamber of secrets, discovering his past, all his darkest desires and wishes-and was not deterred by any of it. If anything-her affection towards him seemed to grow, for as he spoke to open the chamber, she stepped closer, carefully watching his lips as he spoke parseltongue. She immediately closed her eyes and let him guide her as he summoned the basilisk-putting her utmost faith and trust in him as he placed her hand upon its scaley nose.

Tom had never felt more love for her and had never felt more love from her for him, he had trusted her with his deepest secrets over the last year as they dated, even his wish to become immortal, even his fear of letting love into his heart.

And she never shied away, she never shunned him, she only took his hands and held him close-guiding him through the pitch-black maze of his mind. He even told her about his plan for Horcruxes.

He ended up with a dead stare and a long sigh. “That’s-quite honestly Tom, so stupid.” She muttered and Tom frowned, taking a step back but she stopped him and took his face, giving him a smile that was slightly strained. “I do not think of you any different, but dark magic such as that is not worth it, yes your soul will live on but it will be shattered and disfigured, leaving you with ultimately a cursed life and weaker magic because it is so strained across the separated souls. If you wish to live forever-I will be by your side, but horcruxes are a stupid and simply bad idea.”

Tom…honestly couldn’t argue with that. (y/n) smiled and pecked the corner of his lips, which made Tom want to tilt his head slightly so he could kiss her properly-but at that point they hadn’t had their first kiss yet. “Promise me you’ll drop the idea of it? Horcruxes?” (y/n) asked gently, still holding his face, looking into his eyes.

Tom nodded immediately, he would do anything for (y/n), anything. She smiled and kissed his cheek again, moving her hands down to grab his and guiding him from the chamber and back up to Hogwarts. Tom only felt a slight pit of guilt in his gut, since last year, just before school ended-he had attempted to create a Horcrux by using the chamber, but it had eventually slipped his mind as (y/n) took over all thoughts of his plans for it.

But he had never truly opened the chamber of secrets-and he would keep his promise to (y/n), he would find a way to become immortal, and he would share it with his (y/n) Alexander, so they would be together forever.

Tom took a deep breath that rattled in his chest as he stood before (y/n)’s father's office doors in the Alexander mansion, it was the spring break of their final year, and Tom had been invited over since he was dating the heiress to the fortune. In his pocket, he had a small box that contained a silver ring with a small obsidian piece mounted atop-it was all he could afford with the money he scrapped from his last year of stipend from the Hogwarts fund.

It helped that (y/n) had insisted on buying him new robes and taking care of this year's curriculum items-as a gift for becoming head boy. He had tried to deny it all but with a stubborn huff from his beloved (y/n) Alexander, Tom relented with a soft smile and sigh, following her around as she bought his books and whatever else he might need.

Tom took another deep breath-nerves settled deep in his stomach and knocked on Lord Alexander's office door. “Come in, come in,” He called and Tom opened the door and stepped inside, giving a polite nod to John Alexander-the father of his girlfriend(and hopefully soon to be, fiancée)

“Tom, how nice to see you, how can I help you son?” John said with a grin, putting down his quill and setting his intertwined hands on the desk, giving Tom a warm grin. Tom opened his mouth a few times, and then shut it-unsure of how to say anything. The Alexanders were one the top families of both the muggle world and wizarding world, the Deville’s being the top dogs really, was Tom really going to soil their family line? To bring a bastard son into their practically royalty family?

Yes, yes he was-because he loved (y/n) and he didn’t want to let her go to some-rude rich boy who didn’t know how to love her correctly. “i-I was hoping,” Tom started, clearing his throat as his voice cracked. John’s smile only grew, seemingly knowing what Tom was about to ask. “if…” Tom took another deep breath, straightening his back and looking Lord Alexander in the eye. “I was hoping you would approve of me asking for your daughter’s hand in marriage.” Tom got out in one breath, his jaw clicking as Lord Alexander just stared at him, that warm smile still there-but a twinkle in his eye that made Tom nervous.

“i-I love her dearly Lord Alexander. I do not have money, and I have no status to offer her, nor do I have a proud lineage or background, but I would love her for the rest of my life, and beyond it. I know there are many men who you would prefer her to marry but-“ Tom was stopped with a hand to a shoulder, and he hadn’t realized he had been staring at his shoes. Tom looked up, seeing John-beaming.

“I would be honored if my daughter married a good man like you Tom, you love her dearly and that is all I could wish for my little girl, as does her mother. You have my blessing Tom Riddle; you’ve had it since we first met.” Tom, actually felt like crying-staring wide-eyed at John, who chuckled and opened his arms for a hug-knowing Tom didn’t like to be touched without permission. Tom stepped into his arms and squeezed, a few tears escaping his closed eyes as John hugged him tightly. “Welcome to the family Tom, I cannot wait to call you my son.”

Tom smiled into John’s shoulder, sniffing slightly as John patted his back and took a step back. “Thank you sir, I’ll cherish her forever,” Tom said quietly, smiling still as John nodded-patting Tom’s shoulder again.

“I know you will, now come on, I think the girls are outside having lunch.” Tom nodded and turned on his heel-unable to keep the smile off his face as he walked outside to the patio to see his girlfriend(hopefully soon to be fiancée) sitting under the sun with her mother, Viktoria, and Lucy, the four sharing a plate of snacks and tea by the pool.

“Tom~” (y/n) sang, holding out her hands to him and he quickly walked over to her-giving one last thankful smile to John before taking his beloved (y/n)’s hands, stepping close and moving his other hand to her shoulder as she leaned against him. “How nice for you two to join us! We were just talking about you,”

“Good things I hope,” Tom joked, obeying (y/n)’s tug as she made him sit down with her on the chair, his gaze and smile softening as she chattered away John mirroring Tom’s position as he sat with his wife. “of course,” (y/n) said with a tone that meant she was lying and not trying to hide it, and Tom sighed shaking his head fondly.

Oh, how he loved (y/n) Alexander and had never expected it.

Perhaps it was a good thing he had let it slip he had a crush at the Slughorn after-party last year. If he hadn’t-he didn’t think he would’ve gained the courage to ask (y/n) out after that fated quidditch match.

-end-

Part 2 - its just fluff lol

#tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagine #Tom Riddle #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter #fluff fic #Tom redemption #no voldemort au

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bwabys-scenarios · 18 days

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If reader was the sweetest person ever but started throwing low blows towards Kurapika (clan), acting sassy, being snarky, in an attempt to make Kurapika grow to not care about her, would Yan Kurapika forgive her? Would he be understanding/see through whats shes tryna do? I mostly wanna know how’d he “handle” blatant disrespect from someone he cares about or if he’d even take it and just let her go without being able to forgive her

warnings: choking, bruising

Kurapika is a smart man, he knows this isn’t how you usually behave. He’s studied you for months and spent so much time with you that he almost knows you more than you know yourself.

He’s read up on how humans react to captivity, knowing that you’ll have mood swings and bouts of depression or rage. Kurapika has planned for all of this, and prepared to eventually be insulted or degraded at some point.

Well… he thought he was prepared, but when you said that his clan was better off dead… he kind of lost it. Before you knew it, you were pinned to the ground with his hands around your neck, choking you.

“How dare you!”

His eyes were a harsh shade of scarlet, not the usual soft red you’d see when he let adoration got the better of him. No, now it was the color of blood red rage.

“You know nothing about my clan, HOW FUCKING DARE YOU!”

You choked out an apology, tears pooling down your cheeks as you clawed at his hands, trying to take in air and failing.

Kurapika wasn’t present, he was so overtaken by rage he didn’t even realize what he was doing. It wasn’t until you stopped struggling that he snapped out of it, his eyes going wide with terror.

“N-no…”

He let go, and you immediately took in a shaky breath, your eyes hazy from the lack of oxygen. Kurapika’s hands trembled in fear and shame, tears forming in the corner of his eyes as he noticed the bruises forming on your neck.

Shaped like his hands.

“My angel… oh, my love…” he choked out, gathering your weak body in his arms. “I’m so sorry, fuck…”

He rocked you back and forth, sobbing into your hair. Kurapika knew, he KNEW that you hadn’t meant what you said, and yet he still attacked you.

‘I’m such a hypocrite…’ he thought, his grip tightening around you. ‘I took her to protect her… yet I’m the one hurting her…’

Kurapika wouldn’t let go of you the entire night, as if he was terrified he’d lose you. He was so scared, he had lost every important person in his life, and now he had almost killed you, the person he loved with his entire soul, his entire being.

You were so fragile, your life so easy to snuff out with just a little pressure to your throat. He knew that, he understood just how much weaker you were than him. And yet he still put his hands on you, nearly taking away your life.

It was enough to make him more unstable than usual. Kurapika clung to you desperately for the next week, carefully tending to your bruises and being much more lenient with your little requests. He spoiled and pampered you even more than he usually did, and you slept with him every single night.

You never tried that method again… you never wanted to make Kurapika that angry, it was the worst experience you ever had with him. Even if it meant staying captive, you would much rather see the soft side of Kurapika than the one full of rage and violence.

And Kurapika was more than willing to stay the gentle, sweet man you wanted. He adored you after all… and he would never hurt you again.

He couldn’t take the knowledge that his own two hands caused you pain and fear… so he made sure to control his anger better… and you never mentioned his clan again.

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graceylacey · 1 month

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is laios touden happy?

I keep coming back to the question that a lot of Dungeon Meshi (manga) fans seem to be asking: is Laios happy at the end?

My two cents on this is: well, yeah. He actually is.

He’s sacrificed a lot, it seems, far more than all of the other characters. He’s the driving force behind the reason they survived to save Falin - through eating the monsters. Only in the end, he’s not able to explore dungeons, be near monsters (RIP his special interest) or even eat without feeling 30% empty. It’s a real tough bargain.

But that’s the whole point. And that loss makes the story so much more impactful to me.

When talking with the Winged Lion at the end, Laios’ true desires appear. But we can see through Mithrun, Thistle and Marcille’s time as Dungeon Lords that The Winged Lion seems to expose really selfish wishes that, whilst having good intent, don’t end up benefiting others the way the Dungeon Lord wants.

Obvious as it may seem, Laios’ true main wish IS to save Falin over the course of his storyline. It’s what drives him despite having other, arguably impossible, desires that he longs for.

Even though Laios wishes to become a monster, this desire has never overtaken his motivation in any other part of the narrative.

Yes, he loses a lot. But he’s gained Falin.

It seems obvious, but that’s the key to why I think this is a good ending for him. It’s about sacrifice. Itsusumi is a great microcosm for this - you have to do things you don’t want to do, eat things you don’t want to eat. You also have to give up things you don’t want to in order to gain more.

The similarity between Dungeon Meshi and Fullmetal Alchemist (manga) is wonderful to me. Both stories explore the giving and taking of life and the goals of our lives.

At FMA’s conclusion, Ed sacrifices his ability to do alchemy; the reason the whole story started. It cost him and Al so much, but also helped them recover what they’d lost and literally save the world (are we starting to see the similarity?). Whenever I reread FMA, it’s sometimes hard watching Ed give up all his talent and everything he worked towards. What does he have without it? But for him, in that moment, it’s not such a difficult price to pay to get his brother back.

Maybe Laios is not aware of how much he would lose when he defeats the Winged Lion. But we do know he wants his friends and Falin to be saved, even if he dies. But that’s the thing! Both he and Falin are prepared to die to save their loved ones, but what about being prepared to LIVE to save their loved ones?

In our lives, we won’t often be sacrificing our lives for people, but we might be faced with a choice to give up things we love for people we love. Losing his life would be the easy way out (a great example of this is through Mithrun. It takes conscious effort to live. It seems so much simpler to die). Losing your dreams is hard, but that’s what it ended up costing for the safety of not just Laios’ friends but the world. He made that choice, now he must live with it. Even if he’s not fully happy at the end of the narrative, he still can be. You can be happy without having everything you desperately desire. That’s Dungeon Meshi.

Dungeon Meshi’s theme of neurodivergence fit into this really well. Personally, I think Laios is the perfect person to become King, possibly because he doesn’t think he should be. We know it’s not necessarily what he wants to do most. Heck, we know he doesn’t even like people that much and they don’t even seem to like him. But that’s what will make him the perfect candidate. Unlike others, he doesn’t have some high and mighty vision of becoming revolutionary at the end, nor does he have misconceptions about his abilities. He is genuinely righteous and humble, whilst having his flaws.

Laios knows what it’s like to feel different, outcasted by the world. But despite being awkward, strange, having weird interests and an inability to read social cues; people that once hated him ultimately end up having his back. There are bound to be others like him in his world (and ours), who don’t feel like they belong within humanity. People that would want a benevolent leader who genuinely cares and is enthused about things that don’t fit the norm because he doesn’t either.

It’s not his dream job but I believe he will eventually settle into it. We see this in the extra chapter where he willingly gives up his sword. That hit me hard. It felt a bit like a betrayal, like he was giving up who he was and everything he had worked for. But maybe it just shows that it’s okay that he couldn’t achieve all his desires. At least now Falin can achieve hers, and wasn’t that his fear for so long? That she would be lost and alone without him?

But now, because of Laios, Falin has the ability to choose her own path. She can choose make to leave as he once left her without the fear and guilt that Laois felt with his own departure. It shows both of them that it’s okay for them to take separate paths. They can grow and change and love each other from wherever they are. That protection, that survival and that connection between people is at the heart of Dungeon Meshi to me.

Both Laios and Falin choose to live. When Laios eats the Winged Lion’s appetite and Falin returns it’s down to their own decision. The choice to eat; the choice to experience life the way it was intended, with all its thorns. When they eat the monstrous parts of themselves they choose to be human, they choose the consequences of life, they choose to change and to go forwards. They are two sides of the same coin.

It seems only just that after all Laios has been through and after all we’ve seen him do, he should be allowed a perfect happy ending. But that’s just not Dungeon Meshi, is it?

There will always be sacrifices. Dungeon Meshi is not just about accepting life and death, but also accepting the possibility that you may not achieve everything you want, that things will not always go to plan but that you can always achieve other things despite this.

Laios has made his choice to become King. Just like the choice to eat, it’s another part of life and of moving forward. Think of all the good he could do. I think he can be happy. That’s life.

#dungeon meshi #laios touden #falin touden #delicious in dungeon #mithrun #dungeon meshi manga spoilers #first post

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astermath · 10 months

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nemesis; part two.

pairing: carmen berzatto x fem!reader

summary: with carmen reworking the restaurant, you’d think his mind would be far too occupied to even think about anything else. yet he can’t shake the guilt from what he’d put you through a month prior. after some talks in therapy, he decides to take a leap of faith and see if he can talk it out with you. he not only wants to convince you that he can be better, but he's got an offer for you too. one you truly can't refuse.

♡ landing page ♡

word count: 4.9K

tags: carmen being unsure about his feelings but trying to be better episode 3265742, letting reader in a little more, APOLOGIES!!!, cursing ig, carm goes to therapy yippee, syd being the absolute realest, regular font below!

notes: sorry this took literally forever omg, I lost my carmen muse for a bit but we are SO back baby. I missed him so much and so sorry if some things don't follow the canon completely (I've been watching season 2 on and off bc I've been so busy lol BUT my fics never follow the canon completely anyways),, hope u guys enjoy and let me know if you'd like a part three ;))

lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list for further carmen berzatto related content! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

Carmen’s life hadn’t known a moment of mental rest in ages. If you asked him when he last sat down with his thoughts or acknowledged his mental anguish, he probably would have said he couldn’t remember the last time. If ever.

With plans to completely revamp The Beef and everything that came with it, now his feelings should be the last thing on his mind. Renovation plans, unforeseen costs and a completely new menu, sure, he could worry his ass off about those, but feelings? Absolutely not. Good thing he was usually so good at suppressing those anyways.

So why was it that he couldn’t shake the thought of what he did to you?

Why, every time he had a moment to himself, would he be overtaken by this intense feeling of guilt? He didn’t even have to be alone, just a second of quiet and the image of you crying in distress would intrude on his thoughts.

It was getting to a point where he’d told his sister, Natalie, about it. Well, not all of it, he wasn’t even sure if he knew all of it. Just that he knows he hurt you, and that coming to terms with what he projected onto you might be a good first step in understanding himself better.

Or maybe it was something more along the lines of “I gotta talk my shit to some people”. Probably that.

To his surprise, it was actually helping. Besides the group therapy sessions where he’d talk about Mikey, the business and his future, he was talking to other people in his life too. Even told Sydney about you, kind of on accident. The words just seemed to… Flow out. It was probably the exhaustion doing its thing.

“I guess I just felt like,” he kept his eyes on the floor he was sweeping, “she was doing it all to fuck with me. I don’t even know where I got the sick idea that she had some obsession over me, but it— it drove me at the same time. It’s like her being on my heels at every aspect of culinary school just made me want to try even harder.”

“Maybe you painted her in that light because you knew it was a good way to keep pushing yourself.” Sydney spoke almost absentmindedly, sweeping the other side of the room. She listened to everything he said in the meantime, and though what he was telling her was a bit worrying, she was glad they got to have talks like this. Carmen often doesn’t like to bring up his past like that.

“Huh,” he paused sweeping for a moment, “yeah… yeah, maybe. Or maybe it was something else.”

Sydney wasn’t even sure he knew what he was referring to. It sounded like something entirely different, like a crush, but what kind of person treats their crushes like that?

Probably an overworked, pressured, overachieving culinary student with a dangerous need for validation. But she wasn’t about to tell him that.

“So yeah, I visited her restaurant, and… It just felt the exact same as back in New York, you know? Like she was rubbing it in my face again, and— and I know that sounds insane, or conceited, but I just can’t let it go. It’s like the thought of her is stuck to my brain like a stubborn piece of gum.” He wanted to smack himself for that stupid analogy, but what was said was said.

“So how’d you handle it?” Sydney’s head perked up, some of her braids now draping over her shoulders.

“Handle what?” Carmen became more and more uneasy the more he talked about you. Like his chest was tight, it was uncomfortable, but not in the way he was when the health inspection came by, it was different. Weirder. Unfamiliar. He didn’t like it, because he didn’t understand it.

“The talk with her.” She emptied the last bit of dust into the trash bag.

“Oh,” his mind took him back to the parking lot a month ago. The way he could almost taste the tears of your skin from how close he stood, he could hear the shakiness of your breath and the profound desperation in your voice when you apologized to him, when you really had no reason to.

If it was still so clear in his mind, then what must it be like for you?

“Carmen?” Sydney snapped him out of his oncoming train of thought.

“Yeah? Sorry, I— Uh, I don’t know it was…” He runs a hand through his hair, suddenly finding it in his best interest to look anywhere else but her face. “Bad. It was— It was bad.” He looks a bit shameful when he meets her eyes. “I fucked up. I like, went all New York boss on her. And then I just… Left.”

His colleague just stares at him for a moment. She knew what he was like when he snapped like that, but that was with his staff, people he liked. So how badly did he snap on you, a person he’d been resenting for years?

“I’m gonna go take out this trash, and uh… Head home.” She lifts the grey plastic bag she was holding. “But uh, Carm?”

“Yeah?”

“You got issues, man.” She has a bit of an awkward smile on her face, but he knows she means it. He knows she’s right. She usually is.

He nods, silently, letting her words sink in. He did have issues, everyone knew that, but most people didn’t just say it. That’s why he liked Sydney, she was so real, so honest. She was so good for the business, for the kitchen. And maybe her saying that to him was all part of grounding him in the reality of it all. Of his issues, just that they existed.

“Heard.” he says. His voice comes out raspier than he expected, like he’s struggling to say it.

“Goodnight, chef.”

“Night.”

He’d thought about what Sydney said the entire night. He does have issues, he knows that, he’s just mad at himself for letting everything get this far before seeking help. It scares him. Because it reminds him too much of Mikey. Or what he heard about him when things got bad.

He doesn’t want to make the same mistakes his brother did. Lock people out of his life just because it seems easier, because it’s better to minimize the damage than to figure out why you’re doing damage at all. And yes it’s uncomfortable, yes it’s scary, terrifying even. But he keeps being reminded of how it must feel for you.

It’s something he’d never considered before. He always thought he had you all figured out, all fake smiles and backhanded compliments to distract him. It never occurred to him to just… Ask. It was always just easier to assume. It fit his view of you and it kept him going, even if it was at the expense of ever getting to know you at all.

He’s hoping he can change that with a few text messages and a long, probably uncomfortable, talk over coffee. Just hoping, trying, that’s really all he can do. He’s well aware of how bad he is at communicating, but he has to give it a shot. For you, at least.

He stares at his phone screen for far longer than is necessary, continuously rereading the messages he’d typed. His eyes keep flicking to your contact, making sure he sent it to the right person. The only thing you two had texted about before was a time and place for him to try your new restaurant. His heart aches at the exclamation points and emojis you’d sent; you were so excited, and he drove all that excitement straight into the ground.

He closes his eyes and shuts off the phone. His chest hurts, like he’s been holding his breath the entire time. Maybe he has. You could have that effect on him, making it harder to breathe. He always wondered why he had such nervous reactions around you specifically. He always figured it had to do with your one sided rivalry, but it feels… Different. More complex.

Your eyes are finally peeled off your computer screen when numerous phone notifications alarm you. Truth be told, you’ve been trying your best to keep yourself occupied as much as possible. That usually helps when you get waves of emotions like this, keeping busy, distracting your mind from overthinking.

Ever since your last encounter with Carmen, you’ve been so on edge. Always trying to do something, anything, so you wouldn’t have to think about what happened, why he acted like that to you. Because you know if you did, you’d just start blaming yourself again, and you’d be back to square one.

Your eyebrows raise at the name of the contact. You were sure he’d blocked you, or at least deleted your number after last time. He was avoidant like that, and frankly, you weren’t sure if you wanted him to talk to you again after that anyways. Maybe it was just to drive the point home, make you feel even more worthless.

Still, you were curious. Even if it was just to cuss you out even more, at least you knew what to expect, right?

[carmen]: hey, I really want to talk to you about what happened last time.

[carmen]: well

[carmen]: I want to apologise

[carmen]: but I can’t do that like this

[carmen]: I’d much rather do it in person

[carmen]: if you’d let me

[carmen]: meet me at odette’s tomorrow around 10? coffee’s on me, I just want to talk

[carmen]: please

The last message was sent minutes later than the rest, while you were reading them. He was desperate for an answer, and though you wanted to hear him out, to talk to him, something in you felt off about the whole thing. Like he was just doing this to clear off his own guilt, only to then ditch you just like he ditched you after culinary school. Because you’re rivals, apparently. That’s what you do.

But then there’s something else in you too. The part that’s still nostalgic about New York with him. About the glances back and forth when you were timed on preparing certain things, about the way he’d stare at you when you got feedback, the ignorant bliss you lived in. When you still believed he might have liked you just a little.

That part of you takes the upper hand when you reply and take his offer. Your heart is in your throat, nerves overtaking you already and you weren’t even with him yet. He had that effect on you sometimes, making it harder to breathe.

You wondered what that meant.

Carmen sits alone at a booth, all the way at the back of the café he’d chosen. It’s rather quiet, as most Mondays are, yet at the same time, it’s so loud. Loud in the way he hears the clinking of every spoon against porcelain cups, the crinkling of a napkin and the not so subtle ticking of the clock above the entrance. 10:06. You were late.

Suddenly he's filled with more regret than he's ever felt before. He's not ready to see you again, only to be reminded of how he made you cry, and of his own tumultuous emotions and shortcomings that lead to this moment. It's surprising how fast the emotions he associates with you changed; he's not angry anymore, he's scared, guilty, nervous. He wants to see you so bad and yet he feels like you'd be better off never talking to him again.

It's too late to make a run for it when you finally walk through the door. Hair a little damp from the rain, just a bit disheveled from what he could only assume to be rushing over to the café. And that same angelic smile you offer to the barista that greets you, the same one you'd offer him every morning, whether he looked at you or not.

He had no choice but to look now.

Your smile falters into something more nervous, a little melancholic, when your eyes meet his across the café. Though you knew he was going to be there, something in you feels surprised to see him again. Maybe it’s because he isn’t yelling at you or throwing insults at your head this time. Or maybe because he’s actually looking you in the eye. Since when did he get so good at that?

You sit down across him, taking off your coat and putting your bag besides you.

“Hey.” You smile again, much more awkward this time.

“Hey.” He returns the same thin lipped smile.

It’s quiet for a few seconds. Carmen swears the whole café has gone silent in that moment, leaving the two of you to listen to the sound of your own breathing and heartrate picking up. You’re not sure where to look, not being used to being in such an intimate setting with him.

“Do you want a coffee?”

“Sorry I was late.”

You both talk over each other, and the urge to chuckle about it overtakes you. Carmen can’t help but smile as well. You seem nervous, and somehow that puts him a little more at ease. Like he’s not the only one who’s in their head about it.

“Sorry, I, uhm, yeah— I would like a coffee.” You scramble over your words. “Please.”

“Sure,” he nods, “and no worries.”

“Hm?”

“That you were late. I haven’t been here that long either.” He lied. He’d been there half an hour early, cursing himself for letting him sit along with his thoughts for that long and psyching himself out into almost leaving.

You both order and another heavy silence sits between you two. You both know why you’re there, what needs to be talked about. Yet neither of you know how to bring it up.

You’ve lived most of your lives believing this version of each other you had in your minds. Because it kept you grounded. Because it was easier. He never let you in and for the longest time, you were at peace with that. You could have a slightly distant view of who he was, your classmate, your rival. And he could do the same. Keep you out, pretend you were there to keep him on his toes, to always try to outdo him.

Those facades of each other don’t work anymore. The real world has forced you to reconcile with each other, whether you liked it or not.

Your coffee gets brought to your table, and both of you feel this urgency to say something, anything, at least.

“The pastries here are good too, if you want to get one.” He finally broke the awkward silence. He can start with talking about food, something he knows. If all else fails, resort back to that.

“I haven’t tried a pastry besides my own in a long time. Maybe I could learn a thing or two here.” You admit. He knows that feeling. He’s not nearly as adventurous with his food choices as he wants to be, but as a busy chef on the brink of a new entrepreneurship, it’s usually beef sandwiches and frozen meals.

“I think yours were better though.” He takes a sip of his coffee.

“Huh?” You look up, realizing you were avoiding eye contact by staring into your cup.

“The danish I tried at your place. It was fire.”

“Oh. Right. Thank you, we make everything from scratch.”

“I could tell.” He takes another sip. “I guess I— I kinda forgot to tell you that. In the heat of it all.” He huffs to himself. “Food was so good it made me upset.”

“Upset?” His word use frustrates you. Upset is when they forget to give you your sauce with your order. What happened back there was not upset. That was rage. Wrath. You raise an eyebrow and he realizes he said something wrong.

“Well, more than upset. Listen, I— We need to talk about what happened.” His blue eyes peer into your own. They’re almost distracting enough to avoid you noticing his fidgeting hands.

“I’m listening.” You lean back slightly in your seat. You’d played nice with Carmen all your life, given him every chance to return it. Now it was his turn to try.

"Right." Of course he has to talk. It's his fault, isn't it? He's the one who snapped-- why did he even imply you'd have to explain yourself? He runs a hand through his hair, and there he goes again, eyes darting across the café to find something to focus on as he sought out the right words. You'd almost find it endearing, how bad he is at this, if it wasn't so important to you.

"You don't do this often, do you?"

"What, like-- meeting up for coffee?"

"Talking about stuff. Your feelings and shit." You hid your slightly amused smile behind your coffee cup before taking a small sip.

"Oh. Yeah, no, I-- I don't. Not until recently." He takes a deep breath. Just like they had told him to. “I’ve been going to this therapy thing my sister recommended. S’not much, but… It’s a start. Talked about the restaurant, my brother—“

“Your brother?” Your eyebrows raise slightly.

“Yeah, my— my brother. Mikey.” He looks a bit surprised. He’s come to the shattering realization that he’s never told you anything about his personal life, ever. You don’t even know about one of the most important people in his life, his main drive. You’ve known each other for so long yet you know so little. “I never told you about him?”

“You never told me anything.” You answer curtly. “We never really… Talked, you know?”

“Yeah— yeah, you’re right. I just thought… Wow.” He smiles, more out of shock than anything. He feels so stupid. How immature is it to be feuding this much with a person who doesn’t know anything about you?

“I guess I really don’t know much about you either.” His fingers rake through his messy curls again. “Makes me feel like even more of an idiot for going off on you like that. Like I had you all figured out.”

“Yeah, that was uh... That was something." The mood shifts a little. His smile fades as soon as he sees the melancholy in your eyes return. Of course it wouldn't be that easy for you to forgive him, to feel better about all this. "You know, I never knew you thought of me like that." A small smile graces your features. Somehow it's sadder than the expression you had before.

"I mean, I knew you didn't like me. I was pretty much at peace with the fact that you were never going to like me, either. But I never thought you hated me that much." You sniffle, trying your hardest to blink away any oncoming tears. "Like your life, your entire career, would have been easier without me there at all."

His heart aches at the sight of you, all teary eyed and trying to be brave. You're much braver than him. Sadness is a much harder thing to express than anger. He's starting to figure that out more and more.

"I don't hate you." He starts. He sees the confusion contort your features, and he knows he's not making any sense. "I mean I did-- I did hate you. Or, maybe not you, just... The fucked up idea I had of you. And-- and that was on me, that was my own fault." He feels an urge to touch you; to rub your back, hold your hand, anything to comfort you. It's tearing him apart to know that he's the cause of all this.

"But why?" A single tear rolls down your cheek, leaving a wet streak on your skin in its wake. "Why did you think that about me? I-- I get that we had a little rivalry going but jesus Carmen, did you really think I spent my whole culinary school career trying to outdo you?"

"To be honest... Yeah." He feels ashamed. So ashamed. He hopes the waitress doesn't walk by and listen to any of this, see you crying, and make you feel even worse. "Cooking was always just... My thing. If I was good for anything, it would be that. So seeing you do so well at something I'd started to base my whole existence around, it made me jealous, so fucking jealous." He meets your eyes, even if it's hard. You have to know he's being sincere.

"And it's-- it's unfair, it's so unfair to you, I know, and I'm really fuckin' sorry. I'm trying to work on myself, on everything, and I hope I can prove that to you." His face has that red tint you recognize whenever he's nervous or stressed. You can tell this is taking a lot from him.

"Is that really all? You were just jealous?" Your voice is quieter, fragile almost.

"I don't know. I wanna think it's that simple but I really don't know. There's a lot I don't understand about me, or you, or us. My mind doesn't know how to react when I see you anymore I think, now that things are different." He takes a deep breath, like saying that took a physical toll on him. "You have this-- this weird effect on me, and I don't know how to cope with it. I think it was just easier to be mad at you than to be anything else."

Anger is easier to express than sadness. The easiest out of all emotions, actually. Sometimes a little too easy.

You look to the side, wiping your cheek with the back of your hand. You huff out something close to a laugh, and though he’s caught off guard by it, he doesn’t mind it. Even if you’re laughing at him, at least that means you’re not crying.

“You’ve got issues Berzatto. You know that?”

“Yeah. I’ve been told.” He smiles, and it’s heartfelt this time. Not nervous, or sad, or awkward. He’s happy to see you a little more at ease.

“It’s just really crazy to me.” You trace your finger over the edge of your coffee cup as you talk. “I spent so much time in culinary school looking up to you. And then I find out you were always just trying to keep up with me.”

Carmen’s eyebrows raise a little at your words. “Looked up to me?”

“Yeah, like… Your drive, your passion, it’s so impressive. Always looking to improve, to do better, it just— it inspired me to do better too. As cheesy as that may sound.” You smiled. “S’why I opened up in Chicago, you know.”

“Really? Huh.” He leaned back in his seat.

“Because I wanted to work with you. Or for you. Either would have been fine with me.” You sigh. “I like owning my own place, but… I don’t know, for some reason I always imagined us working together.” You smiled. “Is that stupid?”

“No,” he replied quickly, “no not at all, I— I totally get that.” He’s quiet for a few seconds, and you can practically hear the gears turning in his head when he stares at you for a moment.

“I mean you’re a remarkable chef, really, like— insanely remarkable, and, well, we’re revamping the restaurant completely right now. We need people— more people, new people, and so, I was wondering— or I’ve been thinking—“ He stops himself from losing his breath from all his rambling, before he freaks you out even more than he already has.

“I want you to come work for us at the Bear.” He puts his hands together, as if he’s about to beg. “Please.”

You can almost hear yourself blinking out of confusion. There’s suddenly no more loud silences, no, the café seems dead quiet for once. All you can do is stare at him, wait for a laugh, because clearly this was a joke right? There’s no way Carmen Berzatto, chef supreme, arch nemesis of yours, would want you anywhere near him, let alone work in his own establishment.

“I’m sorry?”

He feels stupid already. You had every reason to say no. He’d been the biggest asshole in the world to you, he’d kept his distance all his life, and now he expects you to be his employee. Or, well, colleague, more so.

“I’m uh— we’re redoing the restaurant entirely. New equipment, new staff, new everything.” He swallows; the thought of everything that needed to be done arises for a moment. “We need people that work hard, who know what they’re doing and who are passionate about it. And I barely know anyone who’s better at what you do than yourself.” He pauses, waiting for you to stop him. But you don’t.

“So I’m asking if you’d work for me. With me. It won’t be anything like old days, if anything I— I need to learn from you.” He scoffs at himself. “Could take a thing or two about how to communicate with my staff.”

You smile, and he genuinely thinks you’re about to start laughing at him. You chuckle, but it’s not mean, it’s honest. Cute.

“You know, you have great timing.” You grin.

“I do?” the smile on his face reflects the hope he feels.

“One of my chefs wants to take over the place for me. Well, has been wanting to. I haven’t had an exact reason to say yes to her yet.” You shrugged. “Guess I do now.”

“…Is that you saying yes?”

“It’s definitely not me saying no.” Your eyes meet his, and there’s something between you both that’s different now. It’s not like there’s a switch that’s been flipped. It‘s more like this conversation was the turning page of a new chapter.

“I’ll think about it. I want to see it first. Maybe talk to some of your staff.” Carmen’s chest strains a little when he thinks about you interacting with Richie. Then he’s reassured when he thinks about you interacting with Sydney or Marcus. You’d fit in well, you have great feeling for people.

“Yeah— yeah, I get that. Totally. I can arrange that. Uhm, we’re renovating right now, actually, it’s all really kinda wild, but if you wanna stop by, chat with Syd, or Nat, or talk about the plans, let me know. I’m sure they’d love to talk to you.” He’s not lying, you seem like you’d get along well with them. Especially Sydney. Your thinking processes are very similar to each other. And to his.

Carmen gets the bill, even though you try to pay for it.

“It’s just a coffee, just let me get this one.”

You let him have this one, simply because you can’t argue with him after the conversation you just had. You’re in too good of a mood after his proposition too.

He walks you to your car, hands in his pockets when you reach it. It’s cold outside, and his breath comes out in visible puffs of air. His nose is a little red, but you think it looks cute.

“Thanks for coming, by the way,” he starts, “I know you didn’t have to. Like— after how I acted to you. But— But I really do appreciate that you’re givin' me a chance here.” He’d always been confused about how positive and faithful you were in people. He never thought he’d be grateful for those exact features too.

“No worries, I… I had a good time. I’m glad we talked.” The keys jingle as you fidget with them. Among them is a keychain in the shape of a cherry, he recognizes it. It reminds him of how little you’ve both changed. And how much.

“Yeah.” He sighs. Relieved, almost. “Me too. But I’ll let you leave, might wanna tell your chef the good news.”

“Good news?” You quirk an eyebrow.

“That you’re selling them the business.”

“I haven’t decided yet, Carm.” You scoff. But he can tell you have, you look too excited about it all to not have your mind made up yet. It excites him too. Scares him a bit as well, but what’s a new chapter without a bit of tension?

“Right. Sorry.” He huffs. “Just text me when you wanna head over to see the place. It’s uh… It’s a work in progress, but it’s getting somewhere.”

“I believe you. I’m looking forward to it.” You lean back against your car a little.

“Yeah. Me too.”

“See y’around?” You unlock it and walk up to the driver’s side.

“Course. Uh, don’t be a stranger.”

You grin, leaning down to get into the vehicle. “Never with you, Berzatto.”

He watches you drive off, standing in the cold for far longer than any sensible person has any business standing there. But he feels good. He feels warm.

He thinks about what you said to him before you left. You were right, you were never a stranger to him. You were always like a constant in his life; whether you were actually present or not. And even if he didn’t know that much about you, which he was insistent on changing, you were never a stranger.

Never with him.

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