#which I guess is rather at the heart of the book
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⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’
can i disagree with some of this fandom's perception of tom riddle? surely he won't be a sweetheart like lorenzo, but...
┊ i also don't think that he'd be so intentionally rude, so cold towards his significant other. i honestly think that if tom ever becomes infatuated with someone, he would take pride into getting this someone to belong to him. willingly! 🌷
౨ৎ i guess i'll never know the reason why you ♡ ͡
love me like you do; that's the wonder of you . . .
... tom riddle is a smart man, you see. love, romantic feelings, to act like a couple and all of those things— these might be the most confused that tom riddle will ever be, because otherwise, he's an extremely competent, capable young man.
tom riddle does get confused, a little lost on what to do; he'd torture himself by discreetly watching couples at hogwarts interacting, maybe make some research (= read novels. romantic novels. it was a discovery of a new medieval torture for tom, seriously, to waste his precious time reading some sappy crap like that.) to better understand how to handle you.
how to deal with you.
how to cherish you, so that you don't ever entertain the idea of leaving him. you see, tom is a practical man— he'd rather not commit mistakes, because to fail, means to spend extra time fixing his error and doing the same thing twice, so that this time, it's done correctly.
applying this ideology to you, it means: that 1) tom riddle prefers to always keep your heart happy, so that you don't have doubts about him; so that 2) he won't have to take twice the effort to conquer the city of your heart again.
some think that tom wouldn't like petnames. to be fair, tom would frown at many of those, at first— thinking that they were cringe, disgusting or a psychological way to acquire diabetes. however, when tom gets used to this stir on his heart, those loud heart beatings that cloud his rational thoughts...
... it's excused to say that tom's preferred petname to call you by, is 'my love'.
tom reasons that's because it isn't a lie at all. well, you're certainly his— and because of you, because of your existence, of this enchanting aura of yours; that's how tom riddle discovered love. there are few things that tom is attached to. even fewer that he shows to care about, to have affectionate feelings for; one of them is the basilisk. others are his favorite books, all of them first editions that were troublesome, but endlessly worth it, to get. nevertheless, at the peak of the pyramid, there's you.
you. oh, how your name sounds so angelic, so right, so perfect on his lips. sometimes, tom doesn't call you by any petnames, so that he can mouth each syllable of your name, tasting the acquaintance of the name of his darling on his lips.
⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’
he might call you by other petnames, depending on the occasions:
darling; which, in his opinion, is fairly one of the best petnames to be shared between a couple. because you, reader, are endearing to his eyes— a darling, really, whose presence immediately softens (ever so slightly, because tom riddle still is tom riddle himself, and that mask of stoicism of his won't be broken without putting up a fight.) those previously icy, cold eyes of his.
dearest; if tom is trying to reason with you. unlike what many think, tom would take a deep breath, put on that handsome smile of his, and use a gentle tone to convince some words inside that pretty little head of yours. 'dearest', he calls for you— so gentle, so full of affection; as if reminding you that you are the object of all of his affections and desires. you, his dearest, the one he adores the most. the reminder of such a fact easily melts you in less than a few seconds, which tom sees as too perfect of an opportunity to lose to convince you much faster.
doll; if you look rather ravishing to his eyes, whenever you dress up even prettier than other school days, and wear such pretty clothes and many accessories to further optimize your beauty. beautiful, perfect, flawless; like a doll. a carefully made doll. a doll, that sits there quiet and all pretty, obedient, doing as she's told.
( i must warn you, though, that tom won't entertain silly nicknames from you. tom riddle will ignore you, march forward without sparing a glance at you, not even acknowledging your presence should you insist on the matter. tom won't answer you, should you refer to him by such hideous petnames. you could be about to fall from a mountain, and yet tom won't help you until you address him properly. baby? he's not a child, for salazar's sake! pookie bear? now that might make tom riddle himself throw you off from the mountain's edge— call him such a monstrosity like that, and tom will lose every drop of faith on you. you're a lost cause. )
if he had to choose; yes, tom would prefer if you were obedient. contrary to popular belief, tom riddle is quite fascinated with sweet personas. to have a sweet significant other, who's all smiles and considerate words— it's so, so much easier for tom.
between a brat that trashes around for his attention, and a sweet girl who gently tries to indulge (purely out of concern, wanting him to share his problems with her!)— tom would rather choose the latter.
⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’
quite the darling you are. to boldly take tom's hands between your own, with that frown of yours. no, you're not being whiny; yet tom can see that there's consideration, there's time spent on that little brain of yours, that tries to find the right words to speak with him.
then, when you voice your concerns— that tom spends some time alone from time to time, seemingly hiding something from you, as if to shoulder all of those burdens all by himself...
tom takes a deep breath, swallowing his temper. trying to keep his composure, because tom hates having to justify his actions. with a smile, tom puts on a facade, with a too much convincing tone: "oh, dearest, no. i'm flattered that you noticed that i haven't been having the best days; however, your presence makes everything better. in fact, being with you now, makes all of my problems seem insignificant in comparison."
should his sweet words not be enough to keep your nose out of his business, then tom takes a step further. holding your hands, tom squeezes them between his fingers, gently at first, tightly when you're too stubborn: "my problems are mine to solve, my love. i would never put such a heavy burden on you; your smile is too precious for me to ruin."
sweet, sweet words; some that tom mentally grimaces at, but knows that are necessary and effective with you. talking as if he's doing you a favor on keeping you away from his PERSONAL thoughts and goals.
and that's how tom pushes you way. gently, smoothly— so that you'd have to rethink this moment over and over, for you to understand that once again, tom riddle has tricked you; tricked you into doing what he wants. because without a fight, without you daring to bother him further... tom riddle made you go back to your own business, and leave his alone.
⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’
however, when tom is in a better mood and less stressed with his own goals, he'd find it funny, entertaining even, if his darling tried to be bossy. to pout, to want some sort of control. it's hilarious for him.
so, he indulges you. well, sort of— tom tricks you into thinking that he gave in to your commands. to your whims. in a sneaky way, tom makes you think that you're in control!
the one who's in charge is you. yes, darling, of course. he pats your head, gives you that charming smile of his. with such a serene expression, tom briefly raises his eyebrows, mocking you inside that devious mind of his, as he says: you are absolutely right, dearest.
tom riddle doesn't really mind that you aren't consciously aware that the one in charge is him. that's fine; no, seriously, go and brag about it!
because ultimately, tom knows that what he says, goes. that with some sweet words of his, a little touch here and there, that you'll soon see the reason and comply to whatever tom wishes you to say, to do, to behave.
he does is so smoothly, that even for the outsiders, well... it'd be hard to realize that all that tom riddle is doing to you, is nothing but manipulation. and you're oh so easy to manipulate— it was a challenge at first. now, it's more of a chore; tom barely blinks through it. he knows you so well.
however, so that you whining and getting used to think that you're having things done your way, tom throws some praises and compliments here and there.
touching you chin, gently brushing his thumb on your lower lip; tom's gaze intentionally softens, as he praises: 'you're just too good to be true, my love.', whenever you act accordingly. when you do as he says.
brushing a strand of yours away from your face, so that he can further admire the physical features of his beloved: 'i sincerely can't take my eyes of you, darling, when you are so good for me like this. pardon the way that i stare— you're too beautiful.'
and with even more sincerity, tom riddle isn't sure where his manipulation ends and his genuine care for you starts; tom isn't sure, whether his words are now a muscle memory of his, or if he truly means them.
but he never allows himself to discover the roots of this thought. to actually find out if he truly is such an emotionally shallow person, or if his weakness for his darling is deeper than he realizes. no— this is one of the few matters, in which tom would rather remain ignorant about.
⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’
because tom is such a gentleman with you...
opening doors for you. walking two, three steps ahead of you as soon as the entrance is upon sight, tom will open the door for you; his arm keeps it open for you to enter or leave the room first, and so those grayish-green eyes of his watch you, as you pass by. then, tom will enter just behind you, following your lead, quickening his steps to go back to his rightful place by your side. he lies to himself, saying that he only does such a small gesture to effortlessly keep you by his side. tom would be telling the truth, if he doesn't interrupt the thought that he enjoys to escort you— because, deep down, tom genuinely appreciates your company. every step, every minute you spend together. 'here, love. please, continue; what did you tell your housemate, then?'
tom riddle refuses to let you carry heavy books. so, as if it was muscle memory and so smoothly that you can't do anything about it, tom will carry your books along with his, as soon as you leave the classroom. it's not that he finds you useless, incapable; rather, tom riddle perceives you as a... preciously delicate, fragile little thing. most of the times, tom does it so nonchalantly that you don't even notice; you're too distracted by your conversation, to notice how tom carries your stuff, busying his arms. however, should you notice or worry that you're being a burden to tom in any way; tom shakes his head at you, waving off this silly insecurity of yours: 'i know you can carry them, beloved. however, allow me to do it for you. i am your boyfriend, am i not?'
offering his hand for you to take, whenever there's a higher step to be climbed up, or tricky stairs on your way. tom will do it too, to give you some kind of support, should you jump off of a particular high edge. whenever you wear high heels, tom would be specially careful with you— he offers his arm or hand for you to take, walking in a much slower pace than usual, so that you won't overexert your feet. we can't have his darling getting hurt, now can we? no bruises, no pain, no redness on your skin undesired by him, nothing to interrupt the lovely time you're spending together. 'take my hand, my love; it's quite high for you. that's it, darling, good girl.'
whenever you're about to sit, tom grabs the back of your chair, pushing the seat backwards for you to take, then helps you settle closer to the table. only then, will tom take his own seat in front of you. it's something that becomes so, so common between both of you, that sometimes you find yourself taking a few more seconds to sit down, whenever you hang out with your friends; unconsciously, you'd wait for tom to gently guide you to your seat. oh, you're spoiled.
leaning down to get the material you accidentally knocked out; if he's not quick enough to notice, then tom will keep his hand on the edge of the table, so that there's no chance for you to hit your head. 'quite the klutz, aren't you, darling?' — with a lighthearted tone, so that he doesn't come by as mean, tom couldn't help but to tease you just this time, — 'next time, let me get it for you, dearest. now, careful with your head.'
⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’
... and because he's always so soft-spoken with you, well, how could you listen to your friends, in case they notice that maybe tom riddle isn't as a good guy as he lets on? that perhaps, he is a little controlling. that maybe, he's too overprotective of you.
→ and of course, being the fool you are, you stroll to the lion's cage (or should we call it snake?) and deliver all of this information on a silver platter for him.
SAT SIDEWAYS ON HIS LAP, tom settles your thighs to rest on top of his, while a hand is respectfully kept there; caressing the smooth skin, rubbing circles on the bare skin of your thigh, just inches underneath the hem of your skirt.
tom riddle keeps up a serene expression, sometimes humming in acknowledgement, to show you that he's listening to this ramble of yours. if it's a topic that seems to have bothered or upsets you, then tom will keep another hand on your lower back; he soothes you with small movements of his fingers.
oh, how funny. so this ravenclaw friend of yours, told you that it isn't normal for tom, your boyfriend, to comment whether you roll up your skirt during summer? that such a thing is being controlling? now that's something tom will have to deal with. perhaps, he'll only have to frame this irritating ravenclaw girl; have you ever thought that maybe, she's interested in tom? that must be why the ravenclaw is filling your pretty little brain with such absurd exaggerations of his doings. how lucky you are, to have an attentive boyfriend that easily notices when a friend of yours has bad intentions.
( for obvious reasons, tom despises amortentia. he finds it disgusting, but more than that, tom riddle perceives amortentia has a rather pathetic tool to get someone's affection. tom will never use it on you— he doesn't need to! however, he will get his hands on one, to use it on that nosy, insufferable ravenclaw friend of yours. only to prove his point. so that this nosy girl acts disgustingly flirty around tom, so that you'll come running back into his arms, crying about such an awful friend and that once again, tom was right. you apologize to him, for doubting his assumptions. you end this friendship and cut ties with the ravenclaw girl. and tom, well, tom riddle has once again rid both of you from troublesome outsiders. )
ah, now this is entertaining! so these friends of yours, housemates, have noticed that tom has been keeping an eye on you. now, dearest, that's rather silly, don't you think? so what if you seem to find the same familiar faces in the same space as you? do you really believe your friends' theories? that he sends his followers ''friends'' to follow you around the school? darling, hogwarts is quite enormous and spacious, yet all of you study together in the same castle. it's inevitable, to see familiar faces, here and there.
( however, tom will blame his followers. how difficult can it be, to follow, to stalk a girl like you? and to go unnoticed as they do that? sincerely, tom stares at them with such disgust, such disappointment, that his followers tremble under his gaze— the future dark lord even mentions the idea of getting rid of them. of throwing them away. after all, why would he need such useless, such incompetent boys like them, if they can't follow simple orders correctly? it's excused to say, that you'd never suspect being stalked again. 1) because tom reassured you that such a thought is rather silly; and 2), because these followers of tom riddle do a much better job. out of fear. )
oh, darling, what silly friends you have! sincerely, it seems like you only attract observant delusional friends, or attentive paranoid companies!
in the end, it doesn't matter if your friends tried to alert you about tom's toxic concerning flaws traits. because in the end, at night, he will have you nuzzling on his lap, holding you so tenderly; all of these warnings disappear into thin air, when tom makes you laugh at such accurate ridiculous accusations.
in conclusion: no, tom riddle would never be rude or snap at you; not if he can help it, not if he can keep his temper in check. he believes that the best way to keep you so effortlessly devoted and infatuated, to keep you willingly by his side, is to treat you with care (even if sometimes he has to manipulate his way into it). how lucky you are, to have such a obsessive caring boyfriend!
🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.
— i'm endlessly faithful to theodore nott. however. the first to kick the entrance door to my heart was tom riddle. and what a man (i can't fix him. i would let him ruin my life him tho!), ladies and gentlemen.
the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷
#tom riddle#tom riddle x reader#tom riddle headcanons#headcanons#fluff#dark romance#hp fandom#hp fanfic#slytherin boys#slytherin boys react#christian coulson#tom riddle dating
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On a slightly more serious note, I just wanna post this before the final entry, not counting the epilogue. I’m so, so thankful for Dracula Daily. It’s been an absolute blast beginning to end, reading discourse, seeing the jokes and memes and all the art, reading theories and reactions. And getting to be apart of that! Reading this book again in this format was a hell of an experience but the fact that I didn’t do it alone, I don’t know. We’ve all gotten to experience this book in a new way in real time together. I love that. And I hope that it won’t be just a one-off event, either. And even if it is? But this? It’s been wonderful. So, thank you to everyone for collectively going nuts over a 130 year old novel. Thank you for posting and making those artworks and memes and analyses. Reminds you you’re human and not stuck and alone.
#sorry for being emotional lol#but seriously#I didn’t exactly make new friends or connections#I’m not exactly someone people like seeing post etc etc#but you know what? I got to be in the same room as a bunch of strangers while we all shared an experience#on a personal note#I looked forward to DD everyday because irl I’m pretty isolated#even online I’m isolated this is my 5th or 6th blog. and it was just nice to feel apart of a group#and yeah we still have the epilogue and all but tbh#idk I don’t want it to end#I don’t wanna go back to being alone#I loved talking about this book with y’all I loved seeing your art and theories#it was exciting!#I read this book when I was 8 and my mum had never read it and my brother was too young to#so reading has always been very lonely#but this? this was amazing#and I really don’t want that to end#it’s less about the book itself and more about the people I’ve read it with#which I guess is rather at the heart of the book#dracula daily#dracula#so long and goodnight#lol
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finished reading the tenant of wildfell hall just shortly after christmas!! perfect december book ❄️
#reading tag#i like the color of the tabs i used since they match the cover!#anne brontë#the tenant of wildfell hall#and now i wonder: why is anne underrated??#spoilers under this i guess#gilbert being down horrendous for helen like brother sit tight ..#her life is in TURMOIL and you're thinking abt whether she has the hots for you???#nonetheless i still rooted for them in the end (that false alarm of a wedding got me stressed for a hot second)#oh helen... you've endured so so SO much you deserve a happy ending indeed#i like how it's not THAT cynical bc to be frank. i'd much rather finish a book without my heart sinking#this book feels greatly modern (compared to jane eyre which lets be real is both modern and dated at the same time.most of wildfell’s theme#are still highly relevant today)
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if you look, you can tell - fushiguro megumi
word count: 6k
warnings: swearing, i think that’s it
summary: megumi finds himself eavesdropping a conversation between the rest of his classmates when he hears his name pop up. the way you jump to his defense and have only sweet things to say about him has him second guessing the way he feels about you.
___
“It just doesn’t really make sense to me. I get you guys are friends and all, but how can someone like you be friends with someone so…. Cold?”
Megumi was never really one for eavesdropping. Not only because it was immature and would only cause drama, but because he’d never really felt a need to. He can’t recall a conversation he’d ever stumbled upon that he deemed interesting enough to listen in on. In fact, he’d rather find that everyone else was busy with conversation so he could slip out and do his own thing unnoticed. A habit he’d picked up in his younger years when he still shared a living space with the white haired special grade sorcerer.
But for some reason, right now was different.
Maybe it was because he was the topic of conversation. Maybe because Itadori, Kugisaki, and (y/n) were the ones around the corner. Or maybe it was because something tugged on his heart strings when he heard Nobara’s admission.
He was headed to the common room to retrieve the book he’d left in there this morning, and hadn’t even realized all three of his classmates had the evening off from training and assignments. He’d heard that they were talking as he’d approached, but didn’t halt in his steps until he realized they were talking about him.
“I think he can be nice,” Itadori defended weakly. “I mean… I just met him, I guess,” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, realizing he didn’t actually have much evidence to back up his statement. But he was too nice of a guy to straight up gossip about his new classmate. “Maybe he’s just quiet?”
(y/n) nodded thoughtfully, knowing this to be true. She figured she knew him better than the two newbies, and that was why they’d come to her with their curiosities about the stoic shikigami user. Having been born and raised in Tokyo, she’d been introduced to Megumi long before they enrolled at Jujutsu Tech. Although their friendship hadn’t truly sparked until their enrollment, she’d known him enough to understand him, his mannerisms, his fighting style, his strict routine- all of these things that she’d never really thought twice about before, she now realized sort of made her the on site Megumi- Expert. She even chuckled a little bit at the thought.
Because back then, back when she first met the grumpy boy that was thrust before her by one Gojo Satoru, with an eager grin and the promise of “Look Megs, a friend your age!” She would have never thought she’d be in this position now.
“Megumi has always been reserved” She agrees to Itadori’s comment, but her voice is distant, clouded with something else as her mind grows too occupied.
It took some time after their first meeting for Megumi to grow on her. Understandably, because he wasn’t exactly looking to grow on her. He wasn’t looking for friends his age- he wasn’t looking for friends at all, really. Whatever disease that had riddled his guardian’s mind in order to have him setting up playdates with this girl must have been fatal. Or at least he’d hoped.
Time and time again she was dropped off at the Gojo-Fushiguro residence, or at the park where they were expected to play. Time and time again Megumi barely spoke, barely looked at her, and hoped his blatant disinterest would be enough to deter Gojo from setting up anymore of the stupid playdates.
And honestly, (y/n) never really knew when that changed, or understood why it changed. Her lip was caught between her teeth now as she thought it over, trying to trace back her steps to find the point in time where their acquaintanceship blossomed into true friendship, which she could confidently call their relationship now.
“Yeah, does he ever let anyone in?” Nobara scoffed, but she didn’t mean for it to come across as harsh as it sounded. She had just felt awkward whenever she was around the raven haired boy, not knowing how to fill the silence as easily as Itadori. “It just doesn’t make sense to me,”
From where he stood around the corner, Megumi slumped against the wall. This is when he should have walked away, and forgotten he’d ever heard anything. He shouldn’t have cared what they were saying about him, and he shouldn’t have been surprised that the new students didn’t feel buddy-buddy with him. But there was some invisible force keeping him firmly in place, and intrigue won over logic in his mind as he waited to hear the rest of the conversation.
“I get you guys are friends and all, but how can someone like you be friends with someone so…” Nobara trailed off, and Megumi felt his heart drop to his stomach.
He shouldn’t care. This shouldn’t matter. But then Nobara finally found the word she was looking for, and Megumi had never felt an ache in his chest quite like this before.
“Cold?”
Cold? His mind clung onto the word, picking it apart viciously. Is that really what everyone thought of him? Is that really the image of himself everyone perceived? Again, he supposed he wasn’t the most expressive person, it wasn’t like he expected them to be singing his praises, but he certainly hadn’t expected that.
Before he could convince himself that he was being silly, he found himself frowning. Never before had he cared what anyone thought. As someone who actively kept people at arm's length, Megumi couldn’t think of a time he ever thought twice about someone else’s opinion of him.
And just as he’s ready to scoff and walk away, forgetting his book once more and deciding to never think about this moment of weakness again.
But then (y/n’s) speaking up.
“Cold?” She repeats the word, and Megumi stops in his tracks again at the tone of voice she takes. His brows furrow and he’s leaning against the wall again, trying to decipher what the emotion that riddled her tone was. Anger? He wondered, puzzled. Humor?
Raising from his stomach like it had been brought back to life, his heart stutters in his chest.
“Megumi’s anything but cold,” (y/n) argues, in that same tone of voice that he’d never heard before. She follows it with a chuckle that sounds anything but humored. “He’s the warmest person I know”
Really? Megumi almost laughs to himself before remembering he was trying to stay hidden.
“Really?” Nobara gapes back at her, and (y/n) nods furiously.
“Absolutely,” She declares, firm in her stance. “I’ve never met anyone like him. He’s one of the kindest, most caring people I’ve ever known, you just have to know him, I suppose,”
Honestly, hearing her argument, Megumi’s not all that sure what she’s talking about. But he continues to hover in the hallway, now dying to know more.
“Megumi’s not like everyone else,” (y/n) says, her voice softening as she tries to explain her old friend’s habits to her new friends. “He’s quiet, yeah, he’s always been that way. But he’s not cold. He’s quite the opposite. He… he has a really big heart…” She trails off, chuckling to herself a bit.
I don’t know about that, Megumi thought bitterly, only for his face to heat up at such a sweet accusation.
“He probably wouldn’t say the same,” (y/n) speaks his thoughts exactly. “But it’s true. Megumi shows he cares through actions, not words”
“Ohh..” Nobara and Yuuji spoke in unison.
(y/n) giggled a bit at the both of them.
“He’ll grow on you,” She tells them kindly. “It takes time, but… Megumi’s one of the greatest friends anyone could ask for. I’m certainly lucky to have him in my life”
If Megumi wasn’t blushing before, he certainly was now. Even though no one was around to see, he found himself tucking his face into the collar of his jacket to hide the way his cheeks flushed with color at her openly affectionate words.
“Wow, (y/n), that’s really sweet,” Yuuji cooed. “You must be very close, how long have you known each other?”
“Well, a while,” (y/n) thought it over. “Gojo tried to set us up as best friends when we were younger. But I wouldn’t say it really worked till a year or so ago. But I mean what I said, I respect him a lot. He’s a really good person,”
Really? Megumi smiled to himself at such a blatant lie. She would think that.
“He always helps me when I need it, especially when it comes to training, or studying,” (y/n) goes on to explain.
Well, he supposed that was true. But he just wanted her to excel in their field, she had so much potential, it was only right to help her when she needed it.
“And he is kind of a secret gentleman,” She goes on, dropping her voice as though sharing a secret. “Even before we were close, he’d carry my things for me, or open the door, pull out my chair…” She trails off as she recalls all the instances.
Megumi nodded to himself, confirming that she was telling the truth. But that was just the right thing to do, Gojo had raised him right in that area, after all. You treat women with respect, but he also believed in treating people the way he wanted to be treated. Those two things seemed to overlap when it came to her. So again, he realized that (y/n) was right about him. He was starting to wonder if she knew him better than he gave her credit for. Or even better than he knew himself.
“There was one time when we were younger…” She smiles at the memory. “We stole a cookie out of Gojo’s stash, he broke it in half for us, and then gave me the bigger piece”
Nobara and Yuuji take note of the way her eyes glaze over with fondness as she remembers the day. They hadn’t even been friends yet, it was one of the instances where she was dropped off and left with him for hours in the hopes of the two of them becoming friends. In fact, that particular day, she’d spent most of the time flipping through magazines with Tsumiki. Thinking about it now, however, (y/n) wonders if that was the first bridge between them. The uneven halves of a chocolate chip cookie being a shared secret from the white haired man knocked out on the living room couch. She makes the mental note to ask Megumi if he remembers it that way.
“Aww!” Nobara clasps her hands together as she fawns over the simple memory. (y/n) can’t help but laugh a little at the way her classmates treat Megumi’s soft side. “He must’ve had a ‘widdle crush on you!” She teases in a cartoonish voice.
Megumi’s eyes widened upon hearing the declaration. Had he come across that way? His heartbeat picked up with anxiety, and he worried about what (y/n) would have to say next.
Because he certainly didn’t have a crush on her. All those nice things he did for her, he did because they were friends, they were all things friends would do, right? Helping her with training, carrying her bag when she complained about her back hurting, cooking her dinner when she said she hadn’t eaten all day, taking her to that movie she wanted to see even though he thought it was predictable and cheesy- Megumi was sure that was just being a good friend. Whether or not he wanted to do those things for her was out of the question.
Just as she’d said- he showed he cared through actions.
Nevermind what he thought. Nevermind if she was the prettiest thing he’d ever laid eyes on. Nevermind if she had the kindest heart he ever had the pleasure- or luck- of meeting. Nevermind if she proved time and time again that she was the most wonderful person through and through-
Megumi thought he was going to throw up just thinking about it. But he couldn’t help himself. He thinks about her most hours of the day, he realizes now. He waits for her to text him back, he wonders what she’s doing when he’s not around, tons of things reminded him of her. That flower she pointed out in the garden, anything that was her favorite color, when it rained, when the sun was shining, hell, even his own shikigami made her cross his mind.
Fuck.
He shakes his head as he tries to ground himself back to reality. None of that was really evidence of him having deeper feelings for her though, was it? He could care about her strongly as a friend, couldn’t he? How stereotypical was he for second guessing himself as soon as he cared about his friend who was a girl. A pretty girl. They were capable of being friends without romantic tension.
But then again, if she were to make a move, he wouldn’t exactly push her away, would he?
His face feels impossibly hotter at the question he raised to himself. What a tricky answer that was, indeed. The gears in his brain began to malfunction and break down over how simple the answer that came to him was.
“I don’t know about that…” (y/n’s) voice softens as she trails off.
Something unfamiliar bubbles up in Megumi’s stomach. It feels like he’s eaten too many sweets and washed it down with pure alcohol. It’s bubbly, and sickeningly sweet. It makes the tips of his fingers buzz and the corners of his lips tug into an uncontrollable smile. He’s not sure if he hates the feeling or wants to chase after it.
“Well, you should ask him out!” Yuuji cheers.
“Wh- what?” (y/n) stammers back.
“I bet he’d say yes,” The pink haired boy says with a bright smile of affirmation. “You’re definitely his favorite, and he stares at you a lot”
I do?
“He does?” (y/n) asks, sounding a little breathless.
Was she surprised? Horrified? Megumi couldn’t tell. He was dying to see the look on her face, so he could get a proper read on how she was processing all of this.
“Oh yeah. I see him staring at you all the time” Yuuji confirms.
“Me too” Nobara chimes in.
“Honestly, I thought you guys were dating when I first got here” Yuuji adds.
He did?
“You did?” (y/n) can’t help the small chuckle that comes out of her. “Why?”
“Dunno,” Yuuji shrugs. “He stands close to you. And most of the time when he talks it’s just to you. I just thought it was flirting”
No you idiot, I just don’t need anyone eavesdropping on- oh… Megumi drags his hand over his face, tugging on his skin as his eyes roll back. Fuck, he was the biggest idiot on the planet.
Of course he had a crush on her. How long had he not noticed? Or had it always been there?
(y/n’s) giggling pulls him out of his train of thoughts. Cute and bubbly, he can tell from their sound that she’s shaking her head in disbelief.
“No, no, you’ve got it all wrong,” She tries to deter her new friends from going down that path, but her voice has that same soft and sweet tone that Megumi hopes he’s not reading into when he thinks she’s hopeful that they could have it all right. “We’ve known each other for a while. I think if something were to happen it would’ve happened already”
It’s quiet for a beat, and Megumi’s heart is pounding so hard in his chest now he can feel it in his ears. It’s upsetting and distracting, as he’s dying to hear more of this conversation. He worries he might’ve picked up a real knack for spying, but he can’t think of anything more interesting than this.
“You say that like you want something to happen,” Nobara teases. “Are you the one with a crush?”
With every second that passes before (y/n’s) response, Megumi frets he’s going to pass out. He’s sure his body is going to hit the ground giving away his embarrassing eavesdropping.
“I…” (y/n) starts but trails off. Megumi wishes he could peek around the wall and watch the scene unfold. He’s sure that if he could see her, he could deduce her answer for himself.
If she was fidgeting, then he could confirm that she did, in fact, harbor a crush on him.
If she was standing still out of shock from the idea, then he’d know she thought the idea was preposterous, and there wasn’t a chance she felt anything more for him.
“I haven’t thought about it” She finishes quietly.
There’s some shuffling of feet and a distant hmmph from Nobara’s disbelief, or intrigue, maybe. Either way, the conversation must’ve been done. Yuuji was shouting goodbyes as he left the room to meet up with Maki for rigorous training. Nobara followed suit shortly after, claiming she had nothing better to do so watching Maki train was the perfect way to spend her afternoon.
(y/n) laughed and waved goodbye to her friends. Once they were out of sight she let out a shaky exhale.
Jesus, that was close, she thought as she finally made her way to the couch, ready to collapse and relax. Her heart had been racing in her chest for the last few minutes and she needed a break from Yuuji and Nobara’s prying eyes. She was sure they’d seen right through her, sure they’d been able to tell she was lying through her teeth.
Just as she was about to fall onto the cushions and let the couch take her into a much needed afternoon nap, she noticed a thick hardcover book had been left behind. There was a bookmark sticking out of it halfway between the covers, but all of the pages before it were littered with small sticky notes. She’d recognized it right away, if not for remembering this was the book Megumi had been reading all week, she’d deduce it was his from the heavy annotations. She’d never met anyone who took reading as seriously as he did.
With a small smile she picked it up, deciding she could nap a little later. He was likely wondering where he’d left the book after all, she was pretty sure he had the afternoon free. On a mission, she heads out of the common room, while flipping to the first page marked by a skinny pink tab.
She’s so lost in reading the little comments he’d left on a larger note inside of the page- rather than actually reading any of the actual text- that she didn’t notice Megumi in the hall until she practically ran into him.
“Oh- sorry!” She yelped quietly upon seeing the tall figure in her peripheral. When she looks up to see it’s Megumi, her shock melts into a small smile. “Oh, Megumi! I was just coming to look for you,” She beams brighter, closing his book and extending it to him. “This is yours, right?”
Not knowing what to say, he gives her a shaky nod before taking the book from her hands. He settles for a small thank you.
“No problem,” She replies. “It was in my nap spot” She adds sheepishly.
Megumi chuckles, and he’s unable to keep himself from grinning. (y/n) tilts her head at his bright smile, intrigued by the pure joy seeping out of him. Her fingers latch together as a group of butterflies in her stomach begin to flutter in her stomach.
“Hey, I was wondering…” She starts, her brows pinching with uncertainty, but Megumi gives her his undivided attention.
“Yeah? What is it?” He asks, tucking the book under his arm.
He watches the way her fingers begin to fiddle. He’s distracted by the nervous habit of hers, and his heart swells in his chest. She was fidgeting.
“Uh, ah- it’s silly-” She starts to change her mind, but he shakes his head at her, too eager to hear what was on her mind to let her back out of it now.
“I’m sure it’s not,” He says boldly. She must catch the way he looks at her in complete seriousness, because her eyes widen in the smallest amount. “What is it?” He asks again.
Her cheeks feel warm, and Megumi watches in real time as a rosy tint flushes her face. He can’t believe it took him so long to realize just how deeply he cared about her, because seeing her fidget and blush before him now, he thinks it could be his favorite sight of all time.
“D’you remember when we were little, and Gojo always made us have those playdates?” She asks with a small laugh that dies quickly as she’s overcome with bashfulness.
“Yeah, how could I forget that?” He chuckles back at her, his lips lifting into a fond smile, even though in most of his memories of that time, he was an irritated, angry little thing. “What about it?”
(y/n) opens her mouth to explain, but quickly shuts it and shakes her head. A soft smile adorns her lips as her eyes fall to her hands, still fidgeting nervously.
“I dunno, I guess I…” She’s never struggled for words more than this moment, and she curses herself for acting like a shy little girl when she’s known Megumi for years, and she’s never quite felt like this. “Do you remember when we became friends?” She rushes the question out, afraid that she’d say forget it and walk away with regret rather than feel a little embarrassment now and actually get an answer.
Megumi nods.
“I do” He responds right away.
“Like, actual friends,” (y/n) clarifies, sure that he spoke too soon. “Not just kids dropped off at a playground for three hours and being expected to play together, I mean, like, real friends”
Megumi nods again.
“I do,” He repeats, this time with a small chuckle. “You don’t?”
(y/n) chews on her lip as she shakes her head. Her brow furrows in the slightest, curious as to how he has the better memory of the two of them. Amused, he smirks at her.
“Well?” She asks impatiently. “What changed?”
“I can’t believe you don’t remember,” He teases softly, making her roll her eyes. “You’re hurtin’ my feelings, (y/n/n)”
“I didn’t know you had feelings, ‘gumi,” She retorts playfully. “But c’mon, tell me” She pleads sweetly, her eyes glittering with anticipation.
His eyes flicker between hers for a moment, swept away with the way she looked at him. It dawns on him that if she asked him any favor this way, he’d comply without hesitation. Her complete attention was on him, and he swore there was something in her eyes he’d never seen before. Or perhaps he’d just never noticed it. It was soft, but there was a depth there that he was aching to explore further.
“It was right before we came here,” He finally indulged her, his voice quiet like he was revealing a well kept secret, rather than a memory they actually both shared, even if she’d forgotten it. “The weekend before, actually. When we were moving into the dorms, you remember that?”
(y/n) nods at the general memory. She thinks she recalls making fun of him for listening to Weezer while unpacking in the room right across from hers.
“Gojo let us stay one night early. Probably so he could have his place to himself,” The thought dawns on Megumi a little late, but he chuckles realizing it now. “But at the time it was cool… cause we’d never been on our own before”
“Right,” (y/n) smiles as she thinks about it now. That first night on her own in her own space had felt so special, so exciting. It was almost humorous how normal it felt now. How her space felt completely her own. “I almost forget how it was just you ‘n me for a bit here”
“But you don’t remember the first night?” He asks. A smile line creases between (y/n’s) brows as she racks her mind for the rest of the memory.
Making ramen noodles in the kitchen far too late in the night because she couldn’t sleep. Pacing around the corridors and snooping where she shouldn’t have.
“You woke me up,” Megumi chuckles.
Realization dawns on her in the form of an embarrassed smile.
“Oh,” She muses softly. “Right… I couldn’t sleep and… I was bored”
“You begged me to get up with you, it was torture,” Megumi reminded her. “And then you made me watch a movie with you, that dumb 80s movie you like that was way too long- and you didn’t even stay awake through it”
“Okay okay-” (y/n) tries to dismiss him with a wave of her hand, but Megumi continues.
“But you talked through most of it anyways,” He speaks over her before she could get him to shut up. “You said you were scared”
Her eyes widen, and the story he’s telling sounds vaguely familiar, but truthfully she’d been so exhausted that night she couldn’t really remember the specific details all that well. But she did remember waking him up in the middle of the night, so she’s surprised he’s able to recall this random moment from a year ago so easily. Maybe his memory was just better than hers.
“I… I did?” She mumbles.
Megumi nods back, with his focused eyes set on hers.
“You said you were scared of failing,” His voice grows quiet again. “You said you… you were scared of not getting stronger,”
Despite this event having happened so long ago, (y/n) feels embarrassed now, and she can’t believe that Megumi’s clung to this memory in particular. She almost wished she hadn’t asked, because she could’ve lived in peace never having known she’d revealed such a massive insecurity to him.
“And then you told me that you thought I was strong,” Megumi continues, a smile curling on his lips. “And you asked if I’d help you get strong like me, too,”
She’s sure she must be seeing things when she notices color flush his cheeks. Because there was no way Fushiguro Megumi was blushing in front of her right now.
“Then you passed out on me and I was stuck watching the rest of the dumb movie so you wouldn’t wake up”
“You watched the rest of the movie?” She asks softly. He chuckles at her, and nods his head. “I can’t believe I don’t remember any of that”
“You were pretty tired,” He shrugs back in understanding. “And it was a while ago, I wouldn’t have expected you to remember all of that”
“I see…” (y/n) mumbles to herself. She drags her lip between her teeth as she stays quiet for a few moments.
“And by the way,” He steps forward, catching her attention again as her eyes snap up to meet his, suddenly aware of the small space left between them. “I do kinda stare at you a lot”
Her face lights up with so much heat she thinks she’s going to combust.
“You- you heard that?” She squeaks out.
“And then some,” Megumi nods back. For some reason, he doesn’t feel weird about shamelessly admitting that he’d been listening in on her conversation. “Did you mean all of that?”
Her mouth opens and closes a few times as her previous conversation comes back to her in waves. The longer she thinks about it, the hotter the back of her neck grows. He’d listened to all of that? He heard her ramble on about him? And had he heard that last part-?
“I mean, y-yeah, yeah,” She stammers over her answer, accompanied with an awkward nod of her head. “Of course I did” She says surely, but her voice is a mere whisper.
“Even that last part?” He asks, shuffling forward again. Her eyes track the movement, bewildered by his sudden closeness, but she doesn’t dare put space between them.
“Last part?” She repeats, dumbly.
“Yeah,” Megumi nods, and he can’t help but reach out and trace his thumb under her jaw, ghosting over her skin with a touch so light she almost leans into it to feel it properly. “You know, the part where you said you hadn’t thought about it, about me,” He reminded her, even though she remembers fully well what he was referencing. “You meant that too?”
She swallows thickly. The intensity of his eyes on hers was too much to bear, she could almost crumple to a heap on the ground, but her body is rigid, firmly planted before him by the pad of his thumb under her chin.
“No,” The word comes out in a whisper so soft Megumi wouldn’t have caught it had he not watched it fall from her lips. “No, I didn’t mean that”
A smile twitched on his lips, and he could see her hands fidgeting again. Just as he thought, he beamed as he met her eyes again, she felt it, too.
“What did you mean to say, then?” He asks the question that’s been lingering on his mind like poison being held in the back of his throat.
Her eyes wander to his lips as she realizes he’s been moving in impossibly closer. She’s hoping, no, she’s sure he’s going to kiss her, but he wants his answer first. Rightfully so, she supposes he’s been waiting to hear it, and if she was honest she was dying to get it off her chest. But the prospect of so blatantly telling someone how you feel has her shifting her weight nervously.
“I meant…” She mumbles, snapping her eyes up to his when she thinks she’s stared at his lips for too long. “I meant I have thought about… something more…” Her voice raises and drops in volume as she makes her confession weakly. It’s certainly not a bold, romantic movie moment, like she always thought she’d have some day. It’s timid, quiet, and a bit awkward on her end. She clears her throat. “But they didn’t need to know that” She says, a small giggle escaping her.
“No, ‘spose not” Megumi’s lips curled into a smile that had her nerves settling, comfortable again in his presence. Although she’s sure she could never be truly uncomfortable with him.
“So… spying on your friends these days, hm?” (y/n) asks, tilting her head at him curiously. She means for her tone to be playful, but it comes out in a whispery soft. “That’s a bit out of character for you, Megumi”
Despite his warm face and stuttering heartbeat- he might need to go to Shoko, the irregular pace was becoming a concern- Megumi chuckles at her, and his smile doesn’t falter.
“When else was I gonna get to hear you say all that nice stuff about me?” He hums, effectively burning up her cheeks as well. His thumb traces gently over her chin, his eyes following the movement fondly before meeting hers again.
Megumi had never really been a touchy person. (y/n) could probably count on one hand the amount of times he’s ever touched her, and the first three instances that pop up in her mind revolve around him rescuing her ass when she was being reckless on an assignment.
“I liked the part where you said I was a gentleman,” He beamed a little brighter, and (y/n) had to grind her teeth into the inside of her cheek to keep from grinning like an idiot. “But for the record,” He moves closer, and her eyes grow so round as she stares at him that they almost burn from her lack of blinking. “I’m lucky to have you, too,”
Her jaw loosens and her teeth no longer have a grip on her cheek, allowing for a sweet smile to stretch across her lips as she takes in the fond words.
Just as she thought. He was the warmest person she knew.
“And,” He continued, his eyes moving between hers as he took in how pretty she looked when she was in a state of surprise, “You are my favorite”
She laughs again, breathless and quiet before she rolls her eyes with nothing but fondness.
“I know,” She murmurs, narrowing her eyes in mock annoyance. The smile on her lips was too sweet for him to think she was giving him anything other than her entire heart on a platter. “Must be a side effect of your staring problem”
He tilts his head down, simultaneously lifting her jaw with a tender pull of his thumb, but just as his nose brushes over hers, he seems to remember his manners, and he can’t have her go thinking he’d dropped the gentlemanly side of him she seemed to appreciate so much.
“Can I?” He murmurs, his lashes rising and falling as his eyes travel between her gaze and her lips. “Kiss you?” He clarifies.
And she almost laughs. She wants to giggle and grab him by the shirt and smash her lips against his in a feverish, passionate kiss. But her breath is caught in her throat, she can’t quite find her voice, and her fingers seem to have magnets clinging them together because she’s frozen before him.
So all she can do is shut her eyes and give the faintest nod of her head, barely pursing her lips before his are pressing against them.
Every muscle in her body relaxes as she’s flooded with warmth. Her posture loosens up and even her hands pry apart as she finally finds the strength to lift them, setting them gently on his shoulders.
His lips are surprisingly soft, even when she presses closer and kisses him deeper, they feel nothing but tender. She feels light headed from how sweetly he kisses her, his free hand, the one that isn’t holding his book, splays across her cheek. The tip of his index finger barely ghosts along her earlobe, before tracing down her jaw, and back up again.
She was damn near about to raise her foot like the girls in the movies do when they’re swooning over their true love’s kiss. That shit was no joke.
When they part, she’s smiling at him again, and he’s mirroring her expression. It takes her a minute to will herself to open her eyes, and her hesitation makes Megumi chuckle.
“Next time, I’ll let ‘em know you’re a good kisser, too” She mumbles, in a bit of a daze, as he could tell.
“Oh will you?” He teases quietly.
She nods, leaning her cheek into the comfort of his palm. Her cheeks flush before she crinkles her nose, second guessing her previous statement.
“Well, maybe not right away” She mumbles, and he chuckles at her.
The apples of his cheeks are bright, his smile is toothy, and his eyes sparkle with every lovely feeling humanly possibly, all held for her.
“Maybe not right away” He agrees in a soft voice, before tilting forward again, his thumb swiping gingerly across her cheekbone.
She swears she could melt into the way his low voice comes out in a whispered husk against her lips. Her eyes are already fluttering shut again. His lips brush over hers sweetly, gently, as though for the first time. She returns the tenderness, her fingers reaching up and ghosting along his sharp jaw, twitching with anticipation to touch more. The desire to grab him by the face and crash their lips together is still a thought in the back of her mind, but she sets it aside for now. She thinks he’ll make the time for her to do so later.
And suddenly Megumi believes her. He believes all the kind things she’d said when coming to defense. He believes he is warm, and he is caring. But he only believes it because she made him so. He thinks he’ll have to tell her, at some point, but it could wait for another time. They were bound to have time ahead of him where he could spend hours on end returning the favor, and sing her praises until his face is blue and hers is pink.
___
xoxo ~ jordie
#fushiguro megumi x reader#megumi x reader#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi fushiguro fluff#fushiguro megumi fluff#megumi fluff#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#megumi brainrot#fushiguro megumi friends to lovers#fushiguro megumi imagine#megumi imagine#megumi fushiguro imagine#fushiguro megumi x you#megumi x you
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'...“It’s fun playing bad, but actually he’s not,” the actor says, smiling as he reflects on his character, Crowley. “He’s a villain with a heart. The amount of really evil things he does are vanishingly small.”
...As it always has, “Good Omens” dissects the view of good and evil as absolutes, showing viewers that they are not as separate as we were led to believe growing up. Aziraphale and Crowley’s long-standing union is proof of this. The show also urges people to look at what defines our own humanity. For Tennant — who opted to wear a T-shirt emblazoned with the words “Leave trans kids alone you absolute freaks” during a photocall for Season 2 — these themes are more important now than ever before.
“In this society that we’re currently living in, where polarization seems ever more present, fierce and difficult to navigate. Negotiation feels like a dirty word at times,” he says, earnestly. “This is a show about negotiation. Two extremes finding common ground and making their world a better place through it. Making life easier, kinder and better. If that’s the sort of super objective of the show, then I can’t think of anything more timely, relevant or apt for the rather fractious times we’re living in.”
“Good Omens” is back by popular demand for another season. How does it feel?
It’s lovely. Whenever you send something out into the world, you never quite know how it will land. Especially with this, because it was this beloved book that existed, and that creates an extra tension that you might break some dreams. But it really exploded. I guess we were helped by the fact that we had Neil Gaiman with us, so you couldn’t really quibble too much with the decisions that were being made. The reception was, and continues to be, overwhelming.
Now that you’re no longer bound by the original material that people did, perhaps, feel a sense of ownership over, does the new content for Season 2 come with a sense of freedom for you? This is uncharted territory, of sorts.
That’s an interesting point. I didn’t know the book when I got the script. It was only after that I discovered the worlds of passion that this book had incited. Because I came to it that way, perhaps it was easier. I found liberation from that, to an extent. For me, it was always a character that existed in a script. At first, I didn’t have that extra baggage of expectation, but I acquired it in the run-up to Season 1 being released… the sense that suddenly we were carrying a ming vase across a minefield.
In Season 2, we still have Neil and we also have some of the ideas that he and Terry had discussed. During the filming of the first one, Neil would drop little hints about the notions they had for a prospective sequel, the title of which would have been “668: The Neighbour of the Beast,” which is a pretty solid gag to base a book around. Indeed there were elements like Gabriel and the Angels, who don’t feature in the book, that were going to feature in a sequel. They were brought forward into Season 1. So, even in the new episodes, we’re not entirely leaving behind the Terry Pratchett-ness of it all.
It’s great to see yourself and Michael Sheen reunited on screen as these characters. Fans will have also watched you pair up for Season 3 of “Staged.” You’re quite the dynamic duo. What do you think is the magic ingredient that makes the two of you such a good match?
It’s a slightly alchemical thing. We knew each other in passing before, but not well. We were in a film together [“Bright Young Things,” 1993] but we’d never shared a scene. It was a bit of a roll of the dice when we turned up at the read-through for “Good Omens.” I think a lot comes from the writing, as we were both given some pretty juicy material to work with. Those characters are beloved for a reason because there’s something magical about them and the way they complete each other. Also, I think we’re quite similar actors in the way we like to work and how we bounce off each other.
Does the shorthand and trust the two of you have built up now enable you to take more risks on-screen?
Yes, probably. I suppose the more you know someone, the more you trust someone. You don’t have to worry about how an idea might be received and you can help each other out with a more honest opinion than might be the case if you were, you know, dancing around each other’s nervous egos. Enjoying being in someone’s orbit and company is a positive experience. It makes going to work feel pleasant, productive, and creative. The more creative you can be, the better the work is. I don’t think it’s necessarily a given that an off-screen relationship will feed into an on-screen one in a positive or negative way. You can play some very intimate moments with someone you barely know. Acting is a peculiar little contract, in that respect. But it’s disproportionately pleasurable going to work when it’s with a mate.
Fans have long discussed the nature of Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship. In Season 2, we see several of the characters debate whether the two are an item, prompting them to look at their union and decipher what it is. How would you describe their relationship?
They are utterly co-dependent. There’s no one else having the experience that they are having and they’ve only got each other to empathize with. It’s a very specific set of circumstances they’ve been dealt. In this season, we see them way back at the creation of everything. They’ve known each other a long time and they’ve had to rely on each other more and more. They can’t really exist one without the other and are bound together through eternity. Crowley and Aziraphale definitely come at the relationship with different perspectives, in terms of what they’re willing to admit to the relationship being. I don’t think we can entirely interpret it in human terms, I think that’s fair to say.
Yet fans are trying to do just that. Do you view it as beyond romantic or any other labels, in the sense that it’s an eternal force?
It’s lovely [that fans discuss it] but you think, be careful what you wish for. If you’re willing for a relationship to go in a certain way or for characters to end up in some sort of utopian future, then the story is over. Remember what happened to “Moonlighting,” that’s all I’m saying! [Laughs]
Your father-in-law, Peter Davison, and your son, Ty Tennant, play biblical father-and-son duo Job and Ennon in Episode 2. In a Tumblr Q&A, Neil Gaiman said that he didn’t know who Ty’s family was when he cast him. When did you become aware that Ty had auditioned?
I don’t know how that happened. I do a bunch of self-tapes with Ty, but I don’t think I did this one with him because I was out of town filming “Good Omens.” He certainly wasn’t cast before we started shooting. There were two moments during filming where Neil bowled up to me and said, “Guess, who we’ve cast?” Ty definitely auditioned and, as I understand it, they would tell me, he was the best. I certainly imagine he could only possibly have been the best person for the job. He is really good in it, so I don’t doubt that’s true. And then my father-in-law showed up, as well, which was another delicious treat. In the same episode and the same family! It was pretty weird. I have worked with both of them on other projects, but never altogether.
There’s a “Doctor Who” cameo, of sorts, in Episode 5, when Aziraphale uses a rare annual about the series as a bartering tool. In reality, you’ll be reprising your Time Lord role on screen later this year in three special episodes to mark the 60th anniversary. Did you always feel you’d return to “Doctor Who” at some point?
There’s a precedent for people who have been in the series to return for a multi-doctor show, which is lovely. I did it myself for the 50th anniversary in 2013, and I had a wonderful time with Matt [Smith]. Then, to have John Hurt with us, as well, was a little treat. But I certainly would never have imagined that I’d be back in “Doctor Who” full-time, as it were, and sort of back doing the same job I did all those years ago. It was like being given this delightful, surprise present. Russell T Davies was back as showrunner, Catherine Tate [former on-screen companion] was back, and it was sort of like the last decade and a half hadn’t happened.
Going forward, Ncuti Gatwa will be taking over as the new Doctor. Have you given him any advice while passing the baton?
Oh God, what a force of nature. I’ve caught a little bit of him at work and it’s pretty exciting. I mean, what advice would you give someone? You can see Ncuti has so much talent and energy. He’s so inspired and charismatic. The thing about something like this is: it’s the peripherals, it’s not the job. It’s the other stuff that comes with it, that I didn’t see coming. It’s a show that has so much focus and enthusiasm on it. It’s not like Ncuti hasn’t been in a massive Netflix series [“Sex Education,”] but “Doctor Who” is on a slightly different level. It’s cross-generational, international, and has so much history, that it feels like it belongs to everyone.
To be at the center of the show is wonderful and humbling, but also a bit overwhelming and terrifying. It doesn’t come without some difficulties, such as the immediate loss of anonymity. It takes a bit of getting used to if that’s not been your life up to that point. I was very lucky that when I joined, Billie Piper [who portrayed on-screen companion, Rose] was still there. She’d lived in a glare of publicity since she was 14, so she was a great guide for how to live life under that kind of scrutiny. I owe a degree of sanity to Billie.
Your characters are revered by a few different fandoms. Sci-fi fandoms are especially passionate and loyal. What is it like being on the end of that? I imagine it’s a lot to hold.
Yes, certainly. Having been a fan of “Doctor Who” since I was a tiny kid, you’re aware of how much it means because you’re aware of how much it meant to you. My now father-in-law [who portrayed Doctor Who in the 80s] is someone I used to draw in comic strips when I was a kid. That’s quite peculiar! It’s a difficult balance because on one end, you have to protect your own space, and there aren’t really any lessons in that. That does take a bit of trial and error, to an extent, and it’s something that you’re sometimes having to do quite publicly. But, it is an honor and a privilege, without a doubt. As you’ve said, it means so much to people and you want to be worthy of that. You have to acknowledge that and be careful with it. Some days that’s tough, if you’re not in the mood.
I know you’re returning to the stage later this year to portray Macbeth. You’ve previously voiced the role for BBC Sounds, but how are you feeling about taking on the character in the theater?
I’m really excited about it. It’s been a while since I’ve done Shakespeare. It’s very thrilling but equally — and this analogy probably doesn’t stretch — it’s like when someone prepares for an Olympic event. It does feel like a bit of a mountain and, yeah, you’re daring to set yourself up against some fairly worthy competition from down the years. That’s both the challenge and the horror of doing these types of things. We’ve got a great director, Max Webster, who recently did “Life of Pi.” He’s full of big ideas. It’s going to be exciting, thrilling, and a little bit scary. I’m just going to take a deep breath.
Before we part ways, let’s discuss the future of “Good Omens.” Gaiman has said that he already has ideas for Season 3, should it happen. If you were to do another season, is there anyone in particular you’d love to work with next time around or anything specific you’d like to see happen for Crowley?
Oh, Neil Gaiman knows exactly where he wants to take it. If you’re working with people like Gaiman, I wouldn’t try to tamper with that creative void. Were he to ask my opinion, that would be a different thing, but I can’t imagine he would. He’s known these characters longer than me and what’s interesting is what he does with them. That’s the bit that I’m desperate to know. I do know where Crowley might end up next, but it would be very wrong if I told you.
[At this point, Tennant picks up a pencil and starts writing on a hotel pad of paper.]
I thought you were going to write it down for me then. Perhaps like a clandestine meeting on a bench in St James’ Park, but instead you’d write the information down and slide it across the table…
I should have done! I was drawing a line, which obviously, psychologically, I was thinking, “Say no more. You’re too tempted to reveal a secret!” It was my subconscious going “Shut the fuck up!”
#David Tennant#Michael Sheen#Good Omens#Neil Gaiman#Terry Pratchett#Ty Tennant#Peter Davison#Aziraphale#Crowley#Doctor Who#Macbeth#Ncuti Gatwa#Job#Ennon#Bright Young Things#Series 2#Matt Smith#John Hurt#Russell T. Davies#Catherine Tate#Max Webster#Life of Pi#Sex Education#Billie Piper#Rose Tyler#BBC Sounds
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Picture to Burn
Cairo Sweet x Reader
Summery: You should've known better than to fall for Cairo, your friend who seemed to have no interest in you, but it only takes one drink to mess things up and get you into her bed.
Warnings: Attempts at writing, angst, miscommunication, slight sexual content, underage drinking, Miller being an inconvenience, and heartbreak
Word count: 3.3k yikes
A/n: Hm, not sure how I feel about this one but its been sitting in my drafts long enough, might need a part 2...
“What do you look for in an ideal partner?” Cairo furrowed her eyebrows, her pencil caught between her lips. Your question threw her off track, and she grumbled softly as she erased a mistake. She glanced up at you, annoyed by your upside-down gaze and the way your lips quirked.
“Someone who doesn’t have a camera hanging around their neck all the time.” She retorted, eyes drifting back down to her notes.
You perked up, grasping the camera that was indeed resting on your neck. “Seriously?” You scoffed, settling back into the blanket.
Cairo smirked behind her pages, taking full satisfaction in your crestfallen demeanor. “Oh, and people who aren’t into Marvel.” She added, chuckling at your deadpan reaction.
Assuming the conversation was over, she resumed writing, scribbling random thoughts only to look away and meet your raised brow, tied with an expectant look. God you had to be needy. With a heavy sigh, she shut her book. Typical, you rarely gave her time to properly invest in her writing.
“Fine…I guess for them to make a good income? You know, enough to support me and my writing. Or at least put up with it.” Cairo explained with a shrug, nose scrunching at the way your eyes softened. Ignoring it, she pointed to you with her pen, hitting your nose, “And you are ten grand in debt, unfortunately missing the cut, so sorry.” She said with a faux pout.
Once again, you scoffed, pushing her away and murmuring about how unserious she could be. Cairo fell back on the blanket with a laugh, feeling anything but apologetic, though your smile gave you away.
As you reached into your bag for your notebook, Cairo assumed she might finally get some writing done. Quiet time was her favorite time with you - if you had to be there, which she preferred if you weren’t, totally. Either way, the sound of you fiddling with your camera grounded her; enough so she could focus on her work again.
Initially, Cairo found certain quirks about you irritating, but as she spent more time with you, she began to see them in a new light. The small curses that left your lips when your camera wasn’t working properly, the spontaneous photos you snapped of Cairo - they became endearing rather than bothersome. And above all, your unwavering support and genuine admiration for her writing. Something Cairo needed more than she’d ever admit.
With each word of encouragement and every heartfelt compliment, Cairo's heart swelled, in a dreadful way. It was more than admiration or appreciation; it was something more, a feeling she couldn't deny, no matter how hard she tried.
Though she continued to brush off your advances and maintain a facade of indifference, yet Cairo couldn't ignore you whenever your eyes met hers, the way your smile seemed reserved for her alone.
Yes, you were her friend, but that was all. Nothing was worth the risk of ruining things now. Especially if you didn’t truly mean what you spoke.
“Have you read anything new lately?” You asked, your back hunched over as you picked with the old thing. Honestly, Cairo couldn’t see why you still put up with it, the damn thing broke all the time. But still, it was a classic model from the 50s, an heirloom from your grandfather, which she could respect.
Her hand reached over and shoved at your back, smiling in satisfaction when you straighten your back, shooting a glare in her direction.
“I finished Lolita, it was on Miller's list for its themes of controversy. I wouldn’t read it again though.” She mumbled, “I did pick up this new book called Rebecca, it’s allegedly a psychological thriller but what’s so dark about being haunted by your partner's ex?”
You scoffed, doodling some part of the camera in your journal, “A lot.”
“Doesn’t seem too bad, I mean they’re dead right? Can’t do anything.”
“I wouldn’t risk crossing a paranormal creature like that.” You commented, with a shrug of your shoulders. Cairo hummed, watching you work. When you made no further comments she returned back to her notebook, spending the hour before class working separately.
—
Despite Mr. Miller's evident excitement towards writings of controversy, apparently, that wasn’t the case with Cairo. It was a mistake, a stupid mistake but a mistake she assumed a man like him would love. How wrong was she?
A student longing for their middle-aged professor was where the line was drawn. The hypocrisy of it all made Cairo want to laugh, who was he to dismiss her paper that way? She knows the other students, the other students who wrote worse. The book Miller had them read was even worse.
But no, what was done was done. And now she was convinced Miller thought she was coming onto her, just what she needed. Cairo wouldn’t be surprised if he reported her and there was suddenly a new switch in teachers. As annoying as that’d be, she didn’t have time to dwell on it.
Instead of a clear schedule, there was now an overdue assignment, dragging her grade down that she had to redo. All. Over. Again.
Oh how she wanted to scream at that, a relaxing week gone.
“Stupid fucking Miller…” Cairo muttered, walking with haste to her car. Once inside she slammed the door, pressing her head against the wheel. A knock on her window startled the girl, causing her to look up with a huff, her eyes widening once she realizes who it is.
“Are you alright?” You ask, waiting for her to roll down the window. She does just that, wiping her face with her arm. Was she crying? “You look…off.” Typically your way of saying she looked like shit. Mascara smeared and all she couldn’t blame you.
Deciding not to answer your question, Cairo motions to the passenger seat, tossing her bag carelessly into the back seat. “Get in.”
“But I already have a ride-“
“And I’m offering…just come inside.” She grits between her teeth, letting out an impatient sigh. She doesn’t know why she needs you in the car with her but doesn’t give herself time to dwell on it, when you’re slipping into the seat next to her.
Your posture is tense and that bothers her. She didn’t mean to come off…abrasive. Taking her eyes off yours, she starts the car, preparing herself for the upcoming conversation. You quickly buckle yourself in without another word.
The car ride could’ve been more comfortable, which usually it was but your consistent nervous tapping was starting to bother the brunette. Wordlessly she threw her stapled papers in your lap, you opened your mouth to speak but Cairo beat you to it, mumbling a small ‘read it’.
You flipped through her work carefully and Cairo didn’t have the heart to look at your reaction, not this time. It was different with you judging her work, not that you judged, words of compliments spilled out of your lips every time you did read something of hers, tugging those same old heartstrings Cairo was starting to get sick of. Unlike those other moments, this time, it was different as you flipped silently through her work. Did she really screw it up this bad?
She heard a hiss leave your lips and if she weren’t driving the car her head would’ve snapped in an instant. Turns out you were only focusing on the grade and notes Miller left, better yet lack of.
You bit the inside of your cheek, slowly sliding the papers back to her, pursing your lips. Cairo huffed, removing one hand from the steering wheel to snatch them back, throwing them harshly towards the back.
So, she was in a bad mood. You thought, hands clutching at your knees, swallowing dryly.
“So?” Cairo asks, her voice on the verge of a shout.
“Well, it was interesting. I mean I skimmed through it so I don’t know, your writing was good- like always.” You spoke rapidly, a nervous trait.
“God Y/n, if you thought it was bad you could’ve just said so!” She blurted exasperatedly.
“I don’t! Cairo you know I adore everything you write, this just caught me off guard. Doesn’t mean I like it any less, I promise.”
A silence loomed over the car, and you shrank into your seat even further if that was even possible. Cairo let out a sigh, losing her grip on the steering wheel.
“Sorry, I'm just feeling…” Cairo's voice trailed off as she struggled to find the right words. She didn’t want to fight, not again. The guilt weighed heavy on her chest every time she saw that deflated look on your face. She couldn’t keep pushing you away, that wasn’t fair. But she also couldn’t shake that feeling of uncertainty she felt around you, about what she wanted, when you were what she wanted, “frustrated with this assignment.”
“And that’s okay,” You reassured her, your voice as gentle as ever, as you reached out to take her hand. Cairo’s gaze flickered down to your hands, feeling a mix of comfort and apprehension, before reluctantly allowing them to intertwine, giving you a small squeeze. “I’m here for you if you need me, anytime.”
Suddenly, the car felt much tighter than before, the lump in her throat growing heavier. She wasn’t sure when her eyes started to water or why your touch felt like a burden, but she knew she couldn’t hold it any longer. It all felt too intimate too quickly. Silently, she withdrew her hand, placing it back in her lap oblivious to the hurt expression on your face.
Yet, she couldn’t ignore the own ache in her chest.
—
A bright white light blurred endlessly in Cairo's eyes, slow and unresponsive to everything else that wasn’t her assignment. She fought tirelessly at the screen in front of her, the now blank page mocking her to no end. In the midst of it all Cairo recalled how easy her first essay had been to create, only to be dismissed.
With a huff and slam at her laptop, she tossed the thing aside, landing back on her bed with a grunt. She separates herself from her work, wiping at her burning eyes with her hands. To say Cairo was frustrated was an understatement. After driving around with you for a while she let you go, dropping you off.
A decision Cairo started to regret.
Once again, her parents were out of town doing who knows what. It was something Cairo was used to, but it still bothered her more than she’d admit. Some company would be nice, she wasn’t sure how much longer she could take rewriting that assignment anyway.
After mulling it over in her head, she lifted herself up, to open her phone. Her eyes remained locked on your contact, holding a photo of you and Cairo at the library. While Cairo had her nose stuck in a book, you looked at her like she was everything and more. The picture only made her stomach gnaw uneasily, but still, with much hesitance she dialed your number, listening to it ring.
“Hey, can you come over?”
An astonishing ten minutes was all it took for you to appear at her door. Cairo smiled at you, tugging you in. She noticed you carrying a small plastic bag but didn’t comment on it, dragging you up to her room.
“I brought you something.” You said, softly closing the door behind you. Cairo sat herself on the bed, tilting her head curiously. “A lot of things actually.”
How Cairo managed to miss the balloon you had brought in with you, reading in big bold letters: ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ was totally behind her. Cairo raised a questioning eyebrow and you explained for her writing losses, and Cairo didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or punch you.
Fortunately, you reached into the bag before she could consider the latter, pulling out a familiar bottle of scotch that had Cairo’s lips contorted into one of mischief and pleasure. “And I figured you could use a drink, or two.” You muttered thoughtfully, tossing the bottle on her lap. Cairo traced the bottle with her fingers before twisting it open with a ‘pop’.
You moved around the room, searching for glasses you could use. Spotting two clean ones on the dresser you grabbed them, and settled down next to Cairo, leaving a respectable distance between you. Cairo already had her lips on the bottle by the time you poured the drinks and you raised an amused eyebrow, handing her the whiskey-filled shot. She downed it impressively and you attempted to do the same, failing quite miserably when the burn settled.
Cairo laughed and you settled further into her bed, grumbling embarrassedly. And it had only taken two more shots for you to really feel the effects, and you could tell Cairo was starting to feel them too, a giddy smile plastered on her face that never seemed to leave. Your shoulders untensed noticeably from how serene the air felt, wishing that every moment with Cairo didn’t feel like walking a tightrope.
Yet there was still something there – a lingering tension of sorts that no matter how hard you tried wouldn’t leave. You assumed Cairo felt the same when you met her eye and a soft smile tugged on her lips, one that you couldn’t help but return.
Time seemed to blur with the buzz of alcohol in your body, everything having been so peacefully quiet till Cairo shifted against the headboard, lips lingering on the bottle. Her gaze met yours and your stomach stirred. Not knowing why, foolishly, you looked away. Never had Cairo looked in your direction with so much fervor, and you’d be damned if she started now, under the influence when she didn’t mean it–couldn’t mean it.
But your heart would always betray you, now more than ever. So when she took another swing, you knew you were a goner by the way her eyes darkened and her teeth shone. Your own eyes remained locked to her lips and you swallowed dryly, feeling your heart race because she was staring back the same way.
Cairo didn’t seem bothered, chuckling under her breath as she tucked the bottle away, then swiftly advancing on you the next second, giving into what you both so desperately wanted.
She stumbles into your lap messily, thighs encircling your waist and you groan when she squeezes, placing your hands on her thighs to anchor yourself. Cairo took the opportunity to trail kisses down your collarbone, her lips moving frantically, eager to kiss every inch of you. You let yourself get lost in the sensation, trying to block out that part of your mind that tells you, this is wrong.
Cairo stifles a moan when your nails dig into her hips, grounding her and you both shiver at the contact. Your hand slides along her side, encouraging her, and she does just that, moving slowly against your thigh. Then the room changes completely when her noises become louder, and the pit in your stomach grows hotter. And you have to take a moment to separate yourselves, breathing out of sync.
“What are we doing, Cairo?” You whisper affectedly, rubbing your hands along her inner thighs and Cairo sighs.
“Whatever you want me to do.” She whispers back in the same tone, bringing your foreheads together. “Guide me.”
Despite her words, she’s the one to bring your mouths together first. It’s hesitant and slow, and you both sigh. Her hips press harder against you, and you break the kiss with a grunt. “More.” And that’s enough for you to kiss her again, in a much more heated kiss than before.
Your head is spinning in pleasure as Cairo’s hips grind against yours. With shaky hands you squeeze her skin, taking control of her movements and slowing them down. Cairo whines against your lips, begging and you realize you’re completely weak against her and give her what she needs, meeting her thrusts.
She comes undone on your thighs next, hips spasming, and gasping against your lips as she comes down from her high. Her body goes limp and she falls on your shoulder for support. You press a kiss into her hair, rubbing her back with your hand to soothe her, not really caring if the act is more intimate for whatever this is.
You switch your positions to lay her to rest on the bed, pressing soft lingering kisses on her face as you do, and she curls in beside you blissfully ignorant to what had happened, and you wonder if she’d still be like this with you if this never did occur.
Still, you hold her tighter, blinking as the past minutes replayed in your head, trying to make sense of the situation. Your thoughts only come to a halt when Cairo’s lips are back on your neck, and you shake away the goosebumps because you know you can’t do this again without truly knowing.
“Cairo—what, what did we do? What was this?” Your voice cracks through the silence, a lump forming in your throat.
“Sex,” Cairo states matter-of-factly, continuing to kiss your neck, but it has your heart dropping to your stomach and suddenly you feel sick. Maybe it was just the alcohol or the heartbreak, or both. Either way, it had you pulling away.
“But did it mean anything?” You ask hesitantly, sitting up next to take her hands off you. Cairo huffs in frustration but doesn’t stray her eyes away from you, the action only making it all the more difficult to ask. “At all—did you feel something?”
“Baby I felt many things,” She chuckles incredulously, raising an eyebrow. “What's with all the questions?”
Her wandering hands make it hard to focus on your words, each touch just a reminder of what you had done just a moment ago. You tentatively take her hands into your own, catching her by surprise. “I just mean- well you’ve never…shown or said you’ve wanted to be with me this way.”
“Just because I had sex with you doesn’t mean I want to be with you. It’s just sex, Y/n.”
You choke in disbelief, feeling a wave of soberness wash over and you let go of her hands, similarly to how Cairo did earlier.
Not really knowing what to do or say, you shuffle away from her, noticing her torn expression. It hurts you to look at her, so you don’t, choosing to face anything—the ceiling, her vanity. But everything ties back to her, and you hated yourself for allowing this to happen.
A wave of silence passes you before you have the strength to repeat something, “Right”. You manage to utter, your voice trembling.
When you make a move to leave, Cairo touches your wrist to stop you and you freeze. “It’s late, and you’re drunk. Stay the night.”
You take a shallow breath, shaking your head in denial. “I don’t think I should.”
“I wasn’t asking.”
“Of course not.” You mutter, sitting back against the headboard. Cairo doesn’t question the attitude, only sparing a concerned glance before moving off the bed. Her movements are sloppy as she makes her way to the bathroom, holding a new pair of clothes.
You don’t register when she returns, but it’s long afterward. Neither of you says a word, choosing to settle in silence. There’s a palpable tension when she places a pillow between you, a silent barrier.
You want to scream, to say something, to remind her who initiated it. Tell her that if anything, you should be uncomfortable with her. But that would be a lie. Your head continues to pound throughout the night, and you decide it’s better to sleep it off, unaware of how deeply affected both of you are.
The next day, Cairo wakes up to an empty bed.
#cairo sweet x reader#cairo sweet#jenna marie ortega#jenna ortega x you#jenna ortega#jenna ortega x reader#wednesday x reader#wednesday addams x reader#tara carpenter x y/n#tara carpenter x female reader#tara carpenter x reader#millers girl
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Glad your back love! I have a request if that’s alright. Remus and reader going on a bookstore date and lunch or something!! That would be so cute. Imagine how excited both of them would be picking out books and being affectionate. Just a lot of fluff and cuteness. Thanks sweetness hope you enjoyed your break!
Thanks for requesting sweetness!
Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1k words
You’re feeling a bit guilty about the teas you’ve snuck in, but if there are two people who can be trusted around books, it’s you and Remus. He takes a careful sip as he leans in to skim the titles, sticking one hand in the pocket of his pants.
“Island of Love,” he reads, amusement lilting his tone. “Original.”
“I think I’ve actually read some of that author’s stuff,” you say.
Remus quirks a brow at you interestedly, hand coming out of his pocket to pull the novel from the shelf. “Let’s see, a summer wedding, the groom’s brother and bride’s maid of honor hate each other, but—oh, he’s frustratingly attractive…and something about passionate summer heat.” The corner of his mouth twitches. “Wonder what that could be alluding to.”
“Alright.” You steal the book from him, slotting back into its space. “I never said this stuff was, like, literature to be studied at Oxford. If you’re going to disrespect my section, run along to yours.”
“Fairly sure it’s considered rude to abandon your date,” he muses. “What’s my section, by the way?”
“Depressing stuff.”
“Oh?”
“Mhm.” You take a sip of your own tea, trying not to fluster under his attention. You scan the shelves idly for a distraction. “It’s all rather doom and gloom. Very well-written doom and gloom, to be fair, but I’m not always looking to have my life changed. This stuff is fun, at least.”
“I see,” he hums. “Oh, this looks familiar.”
You turn to see him holding up the shiny new version of the worn and waterstained paperback that rests perpetually on your nightstand at home.
“How do you know about that?” you ask him.
Remus smiles. Your heart flutters. “It was on the coffee table when I was over last week. Are you rereading it?”
“Yeah.” You shrug, turning your eyes away from him. “I reread it a lot, it’s my favorite.”
“Mm, I noticed it looked fairly battered.”
“Well-loved,” you correct him.
He chuckles quietly, and you grin because you can’t help it. “Right, so sorry. My mistake.”
You brush a piece of hair out of your face, slotting it behind your ear. Watch Remus’ eyes track the movement. “So what’s your battered book?”
“Hm?”
“Your favorite,” you clarify. “The book that’s all war torn and full of nonsensical annotations.”
He thinks for a minute. “I’m not sure,” he admits. “I have a few I go back and forth between, but lately it’s been The Secret History.”
You have to cover your mouth with a hand to hide the full breadth of your smile, and Remus narrows his eyes at you.
“What?” he asks.
“That book is so depressing.” You shake your head, delighted at being so right. “I mean, it’s beautifully written,” you amend. “Really gorgeous. I’m just not sure I found the plot as compelling as the prose.”
His mouth actually drops open. You can’t tell how much of the shock is teasing and how much is real. “You thought that book had no plot?”
“No, I mean, plenty happened.” You turn to face him, forgetting about the books around you for a moment to focus on this one. “But I felt like it happened so slowly, and there was so much in between that was just tons of description. It was like they almost skimmed over the murder part! There were so many plotlines that were brought in and then just disappeared, though I guess I can respect the ways in which it reflected real life.”
You think for a second that Remus might argue with you (he should, really—it’s his favorite book and you’re slandering it), but he keeps his mouth shut, watching you interestedly.
“And don’t you think Richard was a bit passive? Henry and Bunny had so much going on, but the narrator could have literally been a fly on the wall the whole time. He kind of reminds me of Nick Carroway, you know?”
“From the Great Gastby?” He tilts his head, eyes squinting a bit (it’s devastatingly cute). “How’s that?”
“Just, they’re both such flat characters.” You frown. “I don’t really think either of them needed to be in the story at all. I mean, having a narrator that’s a character with no personality is effectively the same as having a non-omniscient third-person narrator, right?”
Remus is biting the inside corner of his lips like he’s trying not to smile. “Right.”
“What?”
“I’m just thinking that I need to get you talking about books more often,” he says. And that’s real affection in his eyes, mixed in with the humor.
You look down, grinning at the front of your shirt, but his little smile doesn’t waver.
“Shouldn’t be hard,” you say. An awkward, obvious sidestep of the compliment, but he lets you get away with it. “Your turn. Let’s go to your section.”
He shrugs. “If you think you can stand it,” he says, but starts moving in that direction. You notice he’s still holding the copy of your favorite book.
“Aren’t you going to put that back?”
“No.” He doesn’t need to look down to know what you’re talking about. “You’ve already torn one of my choice novels to shreds, now it’s my turn to read yours.”
A little bite of nervousness snips behind your belly button even as his sidelong look lets you know he’s only joking. “You could always borrow mine.”
Remus blinks. “I’m flattered that you’d trust me with it,” he says, and it almost has you blushing again, that he knows the significance of you offering him your copy, “but I think I’ll read the un-annotated version first. But if the offer still stands after I’m finished, I’d love to read your thoughts on it.”
He says it like it’s nothing. Like taking the time to read your favorite book twice, just so he can get to know you more thoroughly, isn’t the sweetest thing anyone’s ever so much as thought of doing for you. You worry that if you look down, your heart will be glowing right through your shirt.
“Alright.” You muster your courage, taking him by the hand. “But now we also have to find one to read together.”
Remus has looked down at your joined hands, something like shyness coloring his expression, but he looks up to quirk an eyebrow at you. “Are you so sure we’ll be able to find something we can agree upon?” “So long as it involves a main character that actually does something, I think we can manage.”
#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x fem!reader#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin x self insert#remus lupin fanfiction#remus lupin fanfic#remus lupin fic#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin scenario#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin blurb#remus lupin oneshot#remus lupin one shot#marauders#the marauders#marauders era#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#hp marauders#marauders x reader
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Hell? [01]
⌐‣Hazbin Hotel + Bat-Like Teen Reader
Want more? Check out the masterlist↩︎
Want to chat? Check out my discord server↩︎
AUTHOR’S NOTE: YOOOOO SHOUT OUT TO @blueberrymuffin-6 FOR BEING THE FIRST PERSON TO GUESS THAT READER WOULD BE LIKE A BAT!!! I'm so happy someone picked up on my hints. I'm really excited to post this chapter considering how much love the first one got😭 THANK YOU GUYS SM FOR THE LOVE AND SUPPORT THE HAZBIN FANDOM HAS SHOWN FOR MY TEEN READER WRITINGS💝
Also I can't guarantee that there won't be triggering subjects in the future chapters!! There's nothing of that here yet and I will put warning when needed but you’ll only find something this chapter if you REALLY look.
I'd love to hear from you guys your speculations as well!! Send them through my inbox or contact me in discord!! I love interacting with you guys!!
My head hurts…
Am I lying down?
Is it raining?
Opening your eyes, you were met with a dull light to your right, everything else was dark. Rubbing your eyes, you groggily sat up.
You could see, but the light to your right was actually making it hard… You felt a light weight on your head and slight pain in your back. You looked down, you had… fur?
Taking deep breaths, you closed your eyes. You could hear everything so well. From the sound of your heart, to the rain outside.
Where am I?
How did I get here?
Considering that you couldn't remember anything, you felt strangely calm. Like a blanket was over your head and you were blocking out the world around you.
The rain was nice… soft blankets, a plushie? What was it...? It was dark? I had a flashlight, a book? And whatever the plushie was…
A sudden knock interrupted your thoughts. The noise caught you so off guard you physically jumped, you tried to look at the door as you heard the knob turning.
“Oh! You're awake!” You heard a quick patter of footsteps coming in your direction, before a blob entered your vision- or what little vision you had anyway. You couldn't make out the shape in front of you, even with your eyes wide open. There was… red? Or maybe pink? You couldn't tell. Your eyes darted around, and your breathing picked up.
“Hey now- You're all tense! What are you anyways?” The blog had a cheery voice, rather high-pitched. It hurt your ears. You could feel a small hand grab at your arm- rubbing the fur.
“Nifty!” Another sudden noise made you jump. Your body tensing up in a panic. You couldn't hear the rain anymore even if it was so close… You could only hear your heart beating quickly and your uneven breathing.
Then, there were hands cupping your face, a calm, quiet voice accompanying it.
“Hey, calm down.” On instinct, you took a deep breath. Were you holding your breath before? Or were you breathing too rapidly? Where were you again? Sitting up right? Wait- it's raining… that's right… it's raining.
“Are you okay?” The voice to the hands cupping your cheeks spoke again. You could barely focus your eyes enough to see more than just gray. Did the voice have a… wait- the voice asked me a question-
“I-I can't see…” You almost didn't recognize your own voice. It came out so quietly, hardly audible.
You could have sworn you saw the gray blob furrow their eyebrows.
“What's your name?”
“I don't… I don't know?”
The calm the voice was deemed Vaggie.
Vaggie described herself as having long grey hair, grey skin- which you initially found weird- and a pink X over her left eye.
Vaggie told you that the loud, almost squeaky voice that you first heard was Nifty. She also told you where you were and what had happened for you to be here.
You had previously run into one of their friends named… Angel Dust? And apparently, passed out? Then he brought you here, and… here is… I don't remember…
You do remember Vaggie telling you that there were other people here and they were made aware of your existence as well.
Vaggie was also kind enough to explain that you were in hell… she also took the creative liberties in describing to you what you looked like.
“Well… You did take on the appearance of a bat- which is normal, it's normal for people to take on animal-like appearances in hell. For instance, we have someone here who takes on deer antlers and someone who has fur like you but looks like a cat… But you have these ears above your head, small wing protruding from your back, and… foggy eyes-”
The two of you spent time making the connections. The big bat-like ears atop your head gave you really good hearing, and the wings on your back were the cause of your back pain, (and the fact that you had been lying on them) and your foggy eyes contributed to your lack of sight. You took on the appearance of a bat.
The two of you tried to answer Vaggie’s earlier question from before about your name, but to no avail. She had to force you to stop trying to figure it out when you started getting worked up. You did come to the conclusion that you were very young- at least very young to be in hell. Guessing that you were around 15 years of age. Maybe a little younger or maybe a little older, but it felt right enough.
Or maybe you guys had settled on that answer as you dozed back off. The rain hadn't let up and with all this new information to really process, Vaggie let you rest. The clock was growing near to striking morning anyways.
Word Count: 817
A/N: I've also made the tag #voonroo’s bat-like reader for you guys to use as well if you make any posts on it!!
#gender neutral reader#x reader#no use of y/n#voonroo#gender neutral y/n#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x reader platonic#hazbin x reader platonic#hazbin hotel platonic#platonic x reader#platonic#hazbin hotel blog#hazbin x teen reader#hazbin x you#hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel x you#hazbin hotel x teen reader#hazbin hotel x y/n#voonroo’s bat-like reader
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I am very sorry if this has already asked a million times, but I am genuinely curious- From all of your disparate areas of study, what do you think qualifies an area as being connected to “Occultism”?
A few days ago, one of my partners showed me an electrocardiogram print out. It was a strip of paper covered in lines and symbols. I knew it somehow represented the beating of a human heart, but beyond that, I couldn't make heads or tails of it.
He explained to me how the human heart functions, how the lines corrorponded to the electrical impulses. He showed me how a particular mountain lacked a valley, and how that meant that a particular chamber wasn't firing properly. He explained that -with a glance- he could immediately know what was wrong with this person's heart.
This medical readout isn't occult. It's just highly specialized information. It's a tool for conveying specific information as clearly as possible.
If that medical readout was intentionally trying to obscure or hide the information it contained, then it would be occult. In my opinion, for something to be truly capital-o occult, there needs to be a deliberate encoding of information that isn't just cryptographic. There's often a literary dimension to it, obscuring information with narrative devices like metaphor and allegory, to ensure that only people with the right information can "read" the text as intended.
There's also a second-degree definition of Occult, which is "books about other occult works" or "applying occult reading techniques to ostensibly mundane texts." I guess you can think of them as books that are about lockpicking rather than locked books.
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come on back to me - nikolai lantsov
summary: five times you save nikolai and one time he saves you.
a/n: if you've seen my thoughts as i read through siege and storm and ruin and rising then you know that i am deeply in love with nikolai lantsov and since ive finally finished the trilogy i finally feel qualified to write about him lmao. i actually don’t think i’ve written a 5+1 which is crazy so here you go. i wrote this in like 2 days in a spurt of inspiration and im absolutely in love with it, so i hope you all are too!!
title from you’re the one by greta van fleet
wc: 7.3k
warning(s): fem!reader, canon typical violence, siege and storm & ruin and rising book spoilers (i have not watched the show), medical inaccuracies, nikolai's volcra era, hurt/comfort and a happy ending (as usual)
Os Alta
It all happened rather quickly.
One moment, you were in the infirmary mending a poor soldier’s broken arm. The next, screams were erupting everywhere.
You and the soldier locked eyes, and you did a final bit of healing on his arm before you nodded at each other and darted off.
The soldier grabbed his gun and went further into the palace, no doubt to find the royal family, and you adjusted the collar of your kefta before you ran out into the fray.
Nichevo’ya had surrounded everything, attacking anyone they could find, and their shadowy bodies were like a void’s blight on the land. You knew the sight would be forever burned into your mind.
You knew the Darkling was going to march on Os Alta, that he would have to do it directly to use his shadow soldiers, but this was so much earlier, so much worse than you’d expected. Enforcements were meant to come from Poliznaya. You guessed that was off the table.
You were fine at fighting—alright with a pistol and better with a dagger—but you were a Healer. You spent more time dealing with the aftermaths of battles, more skilled at setting broken bones and mending bullet wounds than inflicting them.
Times like these were the ones when you normally questioned your decision to not hone your abilities into a Heartrender, but now you would at least be a dead man either way. Nichevo’ya didn’t exactly have hearts to stop and organs to manipulate.
You had to get to the other Grisha. You had to make sure the Sun Summoner made it through this attack, even if it meant you wouldn’t.
You broke into a sprint, trying your best to ignore the crippled and broken bodies in the carnage. Your instincts tugged against you, but you knew there was nothing to be done. If you stopped to help a dead man, you would soon join them.
You nearly battered into a group of people from your speed and lack of attention, and you reeled to the side seconds before a head-on collision. When you looked up, drawing in ragged breaths in the one second of rest you’d gotten, your eyes widened.
You were face to face with the royal family. The King, the Queen, and Nikolai Lantsov. The absence was glaring.
“Grisha,” Nikolai breathed, and he grabbed onto your shoulders like a madman as his fingers ran over the embroidery. He might as well have been one, the way wildfire flickered in his eyes. “You’re a Healer? One of Alina’s?”
You nodded rapidly. “Are you—”
“I’m getting them to safety on the Kingfisher,” he cut off, “and she wants me to get that old woman as well.”
“Baghra—?”
“You’re a Healer?” the King interrupted harshly. Your heart stuttered—you’d never been directly addressed by the King, but you supposed circumstances like these called for different standards.
“Yes,” you nodded. “Are you hurt?”
“My wife,” he said, and your attention turned to the Queen. Genya’s absence had taken a toll on her, and the shards of glass sticking out of her side weren’t doing her pallid frame any favors.
“Madraya,” Nikolai whispered, his eyes wide, “I didn’t even notice.”
“Alexander—” her voice was ragged, her entire appearance pallid— “we’ve much bigger concerns.”
“Nonsense.” The King’s gaze bore into you. “We have time. Heal her.”
You screwed your eyes shut, your hands closing into fists for a moment before both opened and you nodded. “Keep an eye out, moi tsarevich,” you huffed, and you moved to the Queen’s side. Nikolai’s head perked up for a moment at your words, but it disappeared just as quickly as he adjusted his grip on his pistol.
“Of course,” he said wryly. “Not that I don’t trust your work, and not that I don’t trust my abilities, but it would be grand if you could do this quickly.”
“Working as fast as I can,” you muttered, ignoring the noises the Queen made as you pulled the shards of glass out with little care. Your mentors would be rolling in their graves if they could see you.
“Vasily is dead, by the way,” Nikolai said, attention focused on the nichevo’ya all around. Thankfully, you’d run into each other in a spot relatively hidden from view. Hopefully it extended to shadow creatures. “I know you were wondering.”
Your hands faltered for a moment, but it was hardly noticeable as you continued to work. He wasn’t wrong. “I’m so sorry.”
The Queen choked back a sob, and the King’s face betrayed the slightest bit of emotion.
“An awful way to go,” Nikolai muttered, more to himself than anything. “But fitting that he brought about his own end.”
His parents said nothing to your surprise, but you stood up from your knees and nodded at the King and Queen. “She’s healed enough. No internal bleeding, at least.”
“Healed enough?” the King repeated. “That is not—”
“It’s the best we can hope for,” Nikolai interrupted sharply. “We’ve already wasted too much time out here.”
He then nodded, grasping your hands with fierce desperation. “The crown thanks you, darling.” You’d never seen him like this—you’d never seen him fear anything. The Darkling and his creations were a good start. “I thank you, truly.”
“Just doing my duty,” you assured, and you pulled a small container out of the pocket of your kefta, leftover from your work in the infirmary before it all went to hell, and pressed it into his hand. “She should be alright, but I’ve been slightly rushed. Rub this salve on her wounds when you’re out of danger just to be sure.”
Nikolai nodded again, slipping it into his own pocket. “Keep our Sun Summoner safe,” he said. “Or else this’ll have all been for nothing.”
You nodded. “With my life.”
Nikolai’s eyes met yours, and something unsaid passed between you. Then his hands slipped off of yours, and he continued to herd his parents away from the chaos. You muttered a quick prayer to any Saints that would listen for their safety, and then you head off on your own way.
2. The Pelican
You thought either the bones in your hands or the wood was going to crack with how tight you were holding onto the side of the ship. Your heart was still hammering away in your chest—the adrenaline from the battle and Nikolai Lantsov’s sudden appearance and being shot at a thousand different times by a thousand different militiamen still had you quite shaken.
You knew the sort of chaos you were in for when you made the decision to travel with Alina Starkov rather than stay in the White Cathedral, but you think you hated being in the air like this even more than you hated being trapped underground with those zealots.
Someone called your name, and you turned to see Adrik a while away with wide eyes. You huffed a sigh as you reluctantly let go and hastened your pace to catch up with him. If he was sent to fetch you, then someone needed healing, and you couldn’t exactly hold off on the one thing you were good at.
Adrik led you over to a corner of the Pelican where a large portion of your group of Grisha were gathered. Tamar was kneeling next to whoever was injured, one hand splayed above their chest, and you took a deep breath as you forced calmness to wash over your mind.
“What are we dealing with?” you asked Tamar, but it was clear enough when he spoke up.
“I’m telling you, it’s fine,” he insisted. “Just a flesh wound.”
“He was shot,” Tamar said dryly, “and he refuses to accept its severity.”
“So we meet again,” you said placidly.
Nikolai seemed to perk up when he saw you, any prior frustration absent from his face as he grinned at you and said your name. “If you’re the Healer here, then I guess I’m not so fine.”
“Am I ever going to be around you when you’re doing important princely things,” you said as you crouched on the other side of him, Tamar continuing to keep his heart rate steady, “or only when you’re injured?”
“This is a very important princely thing,” Nikolai said. “I’m showing my soon to be subjects that I’m just like them.”
“You were shot and you thought you were fine?” You let out a loose sigh and shook your head—it wasn’t worth getting into it. “Keep it steady, Tamar.”
She nodded, and you reached out to begin unbuttoning his outer coat. He wouldn’t stop shifting around, and it made it infinitely harder.
“Will you sit still?” you snapped.
“I am,” Nikolai said.
“You are not,” you asserted, and you undid the final button on his coat after a struggle, “and you are making this much more difficult.”
“My apologies,” he said. “Usually women that are taking off my clothes aren’t this angry with me.”
You scowled, only making his smile grow.
“You do it yourself if you want to be like that,” you said, letting your hands fall back to your side. “I’m sure the rest of your soldiers will listen to a Healer.”
“Ah, but none of them bravely threw themselves into danger for you,” Nikolai remarked. “I’m sure that earns me a few points.”
“Points that you’ve immediately lost by being this difficult with me.” You crossed your arms. “And you did not throw yourself into danger for me—you were in the battle and you got shot.”
“We came to save you all, and you are a part of it,” Nikolai said. “I’d say I definitely threw myself into danger for you.”
“You’re impossible.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Will you not even allow a dying man some honor?”
“You are not dying,” you said, “but you will be if you continue talking. Now take off your clothes and stop being so difficult so I can fix this up before you do die.”
He tutted as he shed his jacket and worked on the rest of his clothing. Princes were apparently fond of multiple layers. “For a Healer, your bedside manner is remarkably poor.”
“Don’t worry,” Nadia piped in, “she’s always been like this.”
“I have very fond memories of you healing my broken ribs,” Alina said dryly.
“All of you are still alive,” you said tartly with a glance back at your fellow Grisha, “aren’t you?”
“I think you made me wish I wasn’t,” Harshaw mused.
You scowled again and Nikolai laughed. “That bodes very well for me, considering how much I seem to irritate you.”
“You’re going to be fine,” you grumbled. When you turned back to him, he’d gotten down to his undershirt and unbuttoned it. Blood had spread across the white fabric, but apart from being shot, the wound wasn’t nearly as bad as it could have been. It’d had the chance to fester for a bit, but with Tamar’s aid it hopefully wouldn’t be a problem.
You took a deep breath as you placed your hands on his chest—lucky as always, you could sense the bullet missed all his major organs—but Nikolai grimaced before you could even do anything.
“Are you alright?”
“Your hands are very cold,” he said and you just shook your head.
“How no one has wrung you by the neck is beyond me.”
“Many have tried.” He flashed that smile again. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t add your name to the list.”
You ignored him, taking another deep breath before you closed your eyes. You felt your power within you, the tug you’d grown accustomed to over the years, and you focused it into a single point.
You slowly worked on healing Nikolai, making sure you went from the inside out to stop any internal bleeding before you carefully wedged the bullet out with your knife. Surprisingly, he managed to keep his mouth shut for the most part. He watched you the entire time though, wholly unyielding, and it was unnerving.
Nikolai covered up his pain remarkably well, but you still caught the slightest grimace when you practically stuck a dagger inside him.
“Do you always try to injure your patients more when you’re healing them?” he asked innocently.
“You typically don’t make fun of the person fixing you up,” you said, and you held up the knife, “or the one holding the blade.”
“Surely you could’ve used David to get it out,” Zoya offered lazily. “Better than practically stabbing the King of Ravka.”
“I’m not the king,” Nikolai said. “Not yet, at least.”
“And I’m not stabbing him.” You held up the bullet with your other hand, then let it fall to the floor. “I just didn’t feel like digging around inside him.”
Nikolai picked up the bullet, and you frowned in question. He just shrugged. “To hold onto the fond memories of this battle and the kindest, prettiest Healer I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
Someone snickered behind you, and you turned to see all of them just standing around—Zoya, Harshaw with Oncat perched on his shoulder, Adrik ignoring his sister to watch, even Alina and Mal were still there. At least Tamar had enough sense to stay quiet while she helped you.
“Don’t you have anything better to do?” you snapped. “It’s hard to focus with you all watching me.”
Alina blinked, seeming to come back to her senses. You almost didn’t blame her—she had so much on her shoulders, it made sense to just want to stand and stare for a minute.
“Right,” she nodded, and she gestured at Zoya and the Squaller siblings as she started walking across the ship, “Adrik, Nadia, I need you all over…”
Alina's words trailed off as she got farther away, and the small crowd dissipated to find duties to carry out without their Sun Summoner to indulge their whims.
“Thank you for your help, Tamar,” you mumbled. “I can take it from here.”
She nodded and went off to join the others—the controlled state Nikolai had been in dissolved as she let go of the hold she had on his heart, and the slight daze in his eye went away.
“Are you always this mean?” Nikolai asked. You turned back to find him with that same unshakable confidence, same lazy smile even in the face of it all. It was no wonder noble and commoner girls alike tripped over themselves when he returned to Ravka.
It was no wonder Alina fell for his charms despite the tracker by her side—he always knew the right thing to say to make you feel like everything would be okay, and in the midst of Ravka’s endless war, that was a valuable quality indeed.
“I save it for irritating princes,” you remarked. With a final flourish, his wound was sewed up, and Nikolai raised his eyebrows as he touched the newly healed skin.
There was another slight wince, but he still smiled up at you. “Excellent job.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” you said.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to Grisha handiwork,” Nikolai said as he pulled himself up from the side of the ship. “Especially the healing kind.”
“It would do you good not to get used to it,” you said. “You may not be king yet, but Zoya is right. I’d appreciate it if you tried to stay out of my infirmary.”
“Do you not enjoy my company?” he asked.
“I don’t enjoy bringing Ravka’s only heir back from the brink after every battle,” you corrected. “You’ve got a lot more weight on your shoulders now, moi tsarevich.”
His eyebrows furrowed slightly at your Ravkan. “Say that again.”
You frowned, wondering if you’d heard him correctly. Nikolai continued staring at you, so you sighed. “Moi tsarevich?”
He laughed, and that only soured your mood further. “What are you laughing about?”
“I recognized it back during the attack but I didn’t fully think about it,” he said. “It comes out the most with your R’s. You’re not Ravkan, are you?”
You paused at his sudden subject change. “You were focusing on my accent when everyone was dying around us?”
“Answer the question.”
Your frown deepened. “I am in most senses of the word.”
Nikolai’s eyes narrowed. “You’re Kerch.”
Your lips twitched. “Yes, but I don’t—”
“You still haven’t lost the accent somehow,” he continued. “At least, in how you speak certain Ravkan words. Is it Ketterdam?”
“Don’t you have better things to do than quiz your Healer on her childhood?”
“Perhaps,” Nikolai said, eyes twinkling, “but if you’re really my Healer, as you said yourself, I’m surely allowed to ask as many questions as my heart desires.”
“Your heart desires no more,” you said wryly. “I have other injured to attend to. Call if you find yourself actively dying.”
To his credit, he didn’t try to fight it. Just offered that same smile that weakened knees from the Kaelish to the Shu. “I’ll be sure to ring before I’m dead and buried.”
“Put your clothes back on before you do,” you said.
“Ah, but isn’t this your reward for putting up with the irritating prince?” Nikolai asked with a slight gesture at his chest. “I’d imagine you’d want to keep an eye on your handiwork.”
That sparked a rare smile of your own, and you bowed your head. “Moi tsarevich,” you said before you walked off.
You felt Nikolai’s eyes on you even as you approached an injured First Army soldier, and after the first few preliminary questions you couldn’t help but look back.
When you did, he was gone.
3. Monastery of Sankt Demyan
You sat on the Spinning Wheel, off to the corner so you wouldn’t be disturbing anyone, staring at your hands as you tried to ignore the thousands of things bumping around in your mind. You’d been on the run with the Sun Summoner and a smattering of other Grisha for longer than you would have liked, but you had to accept that this was what life would be like until the Darkling was either defeated or destroyed you all.
It was a damning sort of fate, knowing what awaited you unless the impossible was done. At least it would be quick if the nichevo’ya tore you apart.
You grimaced. That was one thought that would do you no good—if you’d made it this far, from Os Alta under the Darkling’s control to Os Alta under Lantsov control to the White Cathedral and now to Fjerda of all places, what was one more piece of the puzzle?
A very big piece of the puzzle, of course, and there was still the intrinsic distrust that some soldiers—and even Alina at moments, flickers of it you could see in her eyes against her will—had towards you. You, like the rest of the Grisha here that hailed from the Second Army, served the Darkling until you’d switched sides. You wanted nothing more than to see the Darkling to his grave, for Ravka to be restored and for all of this to be over.
But you had switched sides in the first place, and you knew enough from the looks of those soldiers—they still believed that if you could betray the Darkling, you could always still betray the Sun Summoner if given enough cause.
You didn’t try to dissuade their views through words; it wouldn’t do any good. You just hoped the long hours you spent holed up in the infirmary healing the injured would. You missed Maxim if only so you wouldn’t have to do it all alone.
“Vlachka for your thoughts?”
You looked up, surprised to see Nikolai Lantsov of all people. You hadn’t held a true conversation with him since you healed him after his bullet wound. He’d been busy with princely things like banishing his parents and saving Genya’s livelihood.
You were thankful for that, at least. She’d suffered too much at the hands of the Darkling and the King.
“You’d need a lot more than that,” you said.
He smiled. “I’ve got quite a bit. Have you seen this place?”
You chuckled and shrugged. “Just thinking. About our next move, about the Darkling, about what will be after this.”
“You certainly aren’t the only one,” Nikolai said. “Lately it seems to be all anyone can think about.”
“I’m sure you’d much rather have them thinking of you,” you said wryly.
“Oh, there’s plenty of that going on as well.” Nikolai smiled. “An even balance, I’d say.”
You chuckled again. “What brings you here, Nikolai?”
He shrugged. “I wanted to get to know my Healer.”
You huffed a sigh and looked away. “Why do you call me that?”
He was awfully good at feigning innocence. “Call you what?”
“My Healer,” you repeated. “Your Healer. I don’t understand it.”
“I like the sound of it,” he said. “I’ll stop if you don’t like it.”
You felt your cheeks heat and you felt his eyes on you. “It’s not that. It’s just—”
“Because I can,” he continued. “Would you prefer lapushka? Milaya? Perhaps babya.”
You scowled as you turned back to him, and you hit him lightly on the shoulder. “You should stick to the seas and the throne, moi tsarevich. Comedy is not your strong suit.”
“I like it when you call me that,” he mused. “I like your accent, your voice.” He sat down next to you, mildly unexpected, and you hoped you did better at hiding your surprise than it felt. “There’s something soothing about it.”
“I am from Ketterdam,” you said after a moment. “You guessed right. Born and raised. When my abilities started showing, my parents put me on a ship to Ravka with a map, some vlachki, and the clothes on my back. I made my way to the Little Palace, pleaded my case to the Darkling, and I haven’t seen them since.”
Nikolai was silent, and you fully turned to look at him. “You wanted to know more about me. That’s who I am. A girl from Ketterdam in over her head.”
“Give yourself some credit,” Nikolai said. “You’re a woman from Ketterdam in over your head.”
You huffed a laugh, and Nikolai’s expression softened a bit. “Why did they send you away? If that’s alright to ask, of course.”
You shrugged. “Being a young girl in the Barrel is bad enough. If anyone figured out I was Grisha, I would either be dead in the streets, indentured before I could blink, or worse.”
“They thought it would be safer in Ravka,” he guessed. “In the Second Army.”
You nodded. “They couldn’t have known any of this would happen,” you said dryly.
“Do you miss your parents?” he asked.
“Every day,” you said quietly. “We sent letters when we could, but it was never enough. And those stopped after Alina left the Little Palace, obviously.”
You didn’t need to recount the months of the Darkling’s madness as he searched for his Sun Summoner. Nikolai might have been Sturmhond at the time, but you didn’t doubt that he had contacts in the Little Palace. You didn’t exactly want to remember it either.
“How about this?” Nikolai adjusted his position so he could look right at you, those smart hazel eyes enough to get lost in. You forced yourself not to. “On the slim chance that we make it through these next few weeks, when the dust has settled and I’m officially King, I’ll charter a ship for you back to Ketterdam.”
Your head whirled back to look at him, eyes widening. There was no sign in his eyes of a false promise, only that soft smile, charming as ever. You had the sudden, misplaced urge to wind your fingers into those blonde curls and kiss him.
“You’d do that for me?”
He nodded. “Of course. Only the best for my Healer, right?”
That got a laugh out of you, but the heat rose to your cheeks all the same. “That would be incredible, Nikolai. Thank you.”
“Of course.”
He looked—gazed— at you for a touch longer than usual before he spoke again.
“There’s going to be a meteor shower later tonight,” Nikolai said. “One of my crew figured it out—he’s very fond of the sky, and he told me it would be… quite the sight.”
Your eyebrows furrowed. Was he—
“I’d like to watch it with you,” Nikolai continued. “Of course, I have to put on a display with Alina, but after that,” he looked over at you, hazel eyes gleaming, “I’d like to spend the night with you.”
It took a moment for your brain to fully process his words. “Moi tsarevich, are… you asking me on a— a date?”
“Just Nikolai, please,” he said with a grin. “And yes, I am.”
It seemed so trivial in the scheme of things. You were leading an impossible battle against the Darkling, and as a traitor to his throne, you would end up dead or worse if he caught you. The near entirety of the Second Army was dead, friends you’d grown up and honed your power alongside with ripped apart by nichevo’ya. Your chances for victory relied on the firebird, and no one knew a damn thing about it.
It was trivial. It was frankly ridiculous, for the prince— the King of Ravka—to be asking you on a date, especially when it was imperative for him to present a certain image with Alina.
But for all the triviality and ridiculousness and idiocy, you found that you’d never wanted to accept something so badly.
So you did. You nodded, smiled, brighter than usual. Nikolai seemed to have that effect on you.
“I’d love to.”
“Wonderful.” Somehow, impossibly, his grin grew bigger. Nikolai took your hand and pressed a delicate kiss to it before he stood back up—you’d never been so thankful for his confidence, because you found yourself at a loss for words. “I’ll see you tonight, darling. Try not to get into too much trouble without me.”
You nodded again, and you knew you looked like a dazed idiot. The better half of a decade spent training as a Grisha and all it took was a kiss to your hand for your brain to stop working. You really had been at war for far too long.
Nikolai could tell every thought—or lack thereof—in your head by the overly pleased expression he wore as he walked away, and your entire face burned as you bit back your smile.
He knew exactly what he did to you.
4. The Bittern
Sergei sold you out.
That son of bitch had betrayed you all to the Darkling the first chance he got, and he’d been rewarded with a quicker death than any of you would get.
You’d been left fighting for your lives against the Darkling’s oprichniki, Grisha, and nichevo’ya alike, and as usual, you were hopelessly outnumbered. You knelt over Adrik as Zoya, Nadia, Harshaw, and David kept the crowd of enemies back, doing your damnedest to keep him from bleeding out from his nichevo’ya bite.
His arm hung at a bizarre angle, and you didn’t know how you would tell him and his sister you didn’t think you could save it. You were sure Genya’s whispered words were the only thing keeping him even slightly calm.
By the time the Bittern was in the air, precarious but afloat, you were about ready to collapse. It had all been too damn much, with the Darkling and Baghra and Nevsky, and now the poor schoolboy lying beneath you with an arm you couldn’t save.
“He’ll be okay,” you murmured to nobody but yourself, wiping beads of sweat from your forehead as you laid against the side of the ship. As okay as any boy who lost his arm to a shadow monster and went through what he just did.
Thank the Saints for Tolya keeping both Adrik’s and your heart steady during that ordeal, because you were sure your panic would have won over.
Everyone in your motley crew was injured in some way or another, and you were the only Healer. Soon you were back on your feet, pushing the horrors of the night out of your mind as you mended lacerations and fixed up bullet wounds.
Every so often, your eyes would drift over to Adrik. You’d healed him the best you could, but it wasn’t enough.
And then your mind went to Nikolai.
Nikolai.
In the chaos of the battle and the subsequent healing haze, you hadn’t even realized he wasn’t with your group. The Pelican had taken off before you all got to the Bittern, but Nikolai wouldn’t have left Alina on her own after all he’d done to ensure her safety.
You were almost too scared to ask, but you did anyway.
“Alina,” you asked, slightly surprised at the sound of your voice in the silence of the night, “where’s Nikolai?”
Her eyes were unfocused, arms crossed around her midsection for warmth despite the light that glowed beneath her skin. “The Darkling,” she murmured.
“Wh— what did he do to him?” you continued. “What in the Saints’ name happened to him, Alina?”
“He ruined him,” she whispered. “He turned him into a monster.” The look on Alina’s face broke you into even smaller pieces. “He turned him into a monster all because Nikolai dared to stand against him. He’s gone.”
Your grip tightened on the side of the ship as she explained what she had to watch, and your knees threatened to buckle.
Maybe it was stupid, but you hadn’t even realized you cared this much about the prince. The king, you had to keep reminding yourself. But the thought of him hurt—a hurt that you couldn’t heal—it tore your heart to shreds.
Only last night you were laying on a blanket next to him, staring up at the meteor shower through the glass dome. He’d never looked more beautiful than he did then, with the streaks of light illuminating his handsome features and those hazel eyes you’d grown to appreciate.
Few words had passed between the two of you, but once Nikolai had taken your hand in his, neither of you let go for the remainder of the night. That urge to kiss him came back in spades, but you never acted on it.
Saints, you wished you had.
“Do you think you can heal him?” Your voice sounded oddly foreign, but you didn’t even feel like you were in your body. Like you were watching it all happen from above, because this couldn’t have been happening. Not to Nikolai— to your Nikolai.
You were his Healer, and he was your Nikolai. That was how it was supposed to be.
“I don’t know,” Alina admitted, her tone strained. “My light might be able to help, but… but whenever I’ve used it against the nichevo’ya, against the volcra, I— it kills them.”
Her voice broke on the last few words, and you wanted to hug her. Alina didn’t love him, you knew that much, but anyone could tell she’d grown close to Nikolai over the months. She was hurting just as much as you.
You didn’t. You found that you couldn’t do much but stare into the night sky.
He was all alone. Forced into a monster, and now he was all alone.
It felt like ages before the Bittern finally landed, everyone’s teeth stained rust-orange and bones run deep with exhaustion. Everyone was still alive when you woke up the next morning, and after another check-up on Adrik, you went off into the woods under the guise of searching for kindling.
Really, you needed some time to yourself. After what had happened—Sergei’s betrayal, losing even more Grisha when you had little to start with, Baghra’s sacrifice, Adrik and his arm, and— and Nikolai—
It was too much. It was just too damn much.
You’d never gotten close like this to anyone before, never moved further than some useless flirtations and a few stolen kisses with various Grisha when you were bored back at the Little Palace, and when you finally did, with the damned future King of Ravka, this is what happened.
Guilt tore away at you as you plodded through the woods, and you let the tears you’d been holding back all night fall. You wished you’d been there for him. You wished you’d kissed him. You wished you were strong enough to take the Darkling down on your own for what he’d done.
The hairs stood up on the back of your neck, and you heard the rustling of branches. You whirled around to the source of the sound, taking a few steps to peer through the trees, and that was when you saw it.
Your eyes widened and your heart cracked all at once.
“Nikolai,” you whispered.
You’d have recognized him anywhere. Despite the shadowy veins splintering across his chest, the wings furled behind his back, claws and fangs in place of fingers and teeth—he was still your Nikolai. His blonde curls remained, his sharp cheekbones and strong jaw, even his clever eyes—even if they were black instead of hazel.
The smear of blood around his mouth was a sharp contrast to it all. You wondered what—or who—had become his unlucky victim when he could no longer control his hunger.
Nikolai didn’t move as you stepped closer. His dark gaze was unreadable and you wanted to sob for what the Darkling had done to him.
“It’s me.” You continued to speak softly as you moved closer, saying your name in hopes of even a spark of recognition. “Your Healer.”
His eyes followed your movements, his gaze falling down to your hands. He pointed at them with a clawed talon.
You held them up. “My hands?”
You realized the blood around his mouth wasn’t the only bit of it on his body as your eyes trailed across his bare chest. There were cuts all across his arms and chest, most small but some deeper. He pointed at a thin scar near his abdomen, the only sign of the bullet wound you’d stitched up.
He wanted you to heal him. He knew who you were.
This time, a small sob escaped you, and your hand flew up almost on instinct to cover it. You brushed the tears brimming in your eyes as you moved closer to him, and you gently placed your hand on his arm. You felt his limb stiffen for a moment before they relaxed, and you couldn’t help your small smile. Your Nikolai was still there.
The thin cut vanished as you healed it, and you continued to do the same for the myriad of other injuries on his body. You felt his gaze on you the entire time, and some part of it was comforting. Nikolai was still there—his humanity was still there. This was the least you could do to make him feel the part.
Once you’d healed up the last of his wounds, you felt the glow of Grisha power inside of you. Nikolai grabbed onto your hand the moment you’d finished, and you looked up into his dark eyes as your fingers clasped around his talons.
“We’ll figure this out, Nikolai,” you whispered. “I promise.”
The corner of his lips curled up ever so slightly, the barest sign of the old smile you’d grown to love.
And then he let go of your hand, and he shot up into the air. It took only seconds for him to disappear, but your gaze remained stuck in place.
All you could think of was Nikolai’s dark eyes and the shattered shadows beneath his skin, the feel of his taloned hand in yours.
You would find a way to bring him back. You knew that much.
5. The Shadow Fold
“For Saint’s sake— catch him, Zoya!”
“You screeching at me isn’t helping,” she snarled, her hands held out above her as she summoned wind to break Nikolai’s fall.
It was almost laughable, how Alina ended it all with a bit of stabbing. First Mal, then the Darkling—now Soldat Sol and oprichniki alike were glowing like human lamps around the Fold. The nichevo’ya dissolved with the Darkling’s power, the same thing that created Nikolai’s monster—you screamed in general when you first saw him falling, and then you screamed at Zoya. It was a credit to her growth that she didn’t slap you first.
Thankfully, the updraft did its job, and he only landed in the sand at concerning speeds rather than very concerning.
You ran for him without thinking, not even feeling the jolt in your ankles as you lept from the skiff onto the sands. You no longer had to fear the Fold—the various Sun Soldiers that had gotten Alina’s powers had done away with the remainder in no time—and even if you did, you would brave a thousand volcra for Nikolai.
He looked so small, so vulnerable laying there in the sand, only clad in torn pants and a myriad of bruises. The last of the shadows receded when you finally reached him, and you didn’t try to stop the tears as they flowed freely down your cheeks.
“Nikolai,” you whispered, falling to your knees in the sand next to him, “Nikolai, can you hear me?”
You cradled his head in your hands, tears splattering in the sand around you, and then his eyes opened.
His beautiful hazel eyes opened and looked right at you, his lips tugging into a smirk as he said your name.
“Would you say this is an important princely thing?” His voice was husky, damaged from whatever dark thing that had taken a hold of him, but the usual lilt was there. “Or just another injury?”
You broke into full on sobs, unabashedly and unashamed as you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him into a hug. You felt his arms around you as well, and he rubbed circles on your back.
“I had time to think,” Nikolai murmured, “and I think I’ll settle on lapushka.”
Darling.
You couldn’t help but laugh, and you moved away from him just so you could look at him, gaze at him, never forget his beautiful features.
“I’m so glad you’re okay.”
“I knew I would be,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “I had you looking out for me.”
“Stop,” you said, your voice watery. “I can’t keep crying in front of you.”
“I think you’ve more than earned it, lapushka.”
You laughed again as you shook your head. “How do you feel? Can you still move all your limbs?”
Nikolai took his hand in yours, fingers intertwining with yours. His gaze didn’t move from you. “Limbs are fine.”
You let your smile shine unabashed as you squeezed his hand, thankful for the lack of talons. “Can you sit up?”
Nikolai visibly winced at the effort, but he managed with your help. “My chest hurts quite a bit.”
“You’ve definitely broken some ribs,” you murmured, “but it’s nothing I can’t fix up.”
“There’s nothing you can’t fix,” Nikolai said.
“Careful with all the praise. I might get used to it.”
“Good.”
You glanced over to see Tolya and Zoya moving across the sand towards you and you looked back at Nikolai.
“We’re going to get you back on the skiff, Nikolai,” you said. “I’ll get you healed up and then we’ll get you some clothes. Alright?”
“I told you,” Nikolai said, “this is your reward for putting up with the irritating prince.”
“That was for the prince,” you said, running a hand through his blonde curls to untangle them. “My reward for putting up with irritating kings is to make sure they’re clothed and healed.”
His smile shone brighter than anything Alina could conjure up.
The Darkling’s Skiff
You ended up below deck with Nikolai, Tolya, an unconscious Alina and Mal, and the Darkling’s body. It normally wouldn’t have been a cheery atmosphere, but you were just thankful to be alive after all you’d done. Thankful that Nikolai was alive and himself and that the Darkling was dead.
A First Army uniform was folded next to Nikolai’s makeshift cot where you sat next to him, and Tolya’s companionable silence was appreciated as he stayed by Alina and Mal to ensure they stayed alive.
“You broke a few ribs in your fall,” you murmured, your hands placed on his chest, “but overall, I’d say you made out pretty well.”
“Yes,” Nikolai said wryly, looking at his hands. Faint black lines ran across each of his fingers, where claws had torn through his skin. Though the other shadowy marks had faded, these appeared to be permanent. “Pretty well.”
“You know what I mean, Nikolai.” You moved your hand over his ribs and focused your power—by the slight grimace on his face, the itch that came along with Grisha healing, you knew they were mending back together. “You’re still alive. You’re you again. That means everything.”
“And your hands are still freakishly cold,” he mused. You smiled.
A moment passed before he spoke again.
“You know,” Nikolai said, and you felt his eyes on you again, “I remember everything. Everything that I did when I was that… that thing.”
Your throat bobbed, but you nodded, encouraging him on.
“I went to you,” he said, “and… you helped me. You weren’t afraid—you understood what I meant, and you healed me.”
“Of course I did,” you said softly. A smile tugged at your lips. “I am your Healer, after all.”
Nikolai placed his hand over one of yours, and your power wavered for a moment as your heart stuttered.
“One of your ribs is still broken, Nikolai,” you said. “I have to—”
“I love you,” he interrupted. Your eyes snapped to him, and you thought you misheard him.
“What?”
“I love you,” he repeated, as if it came as easily to him as breathing. “Forgive me for the lack of ballads and sonnets on how to express it—I plan to remedy that as soon as we’re back in Os Alta. But I love you, and it’s the one thing I’m sure of at this moment.”
You continued to stare at him, as if you’d suddenly forgotten how to speak. Nikolai was no Corporalnik, but you were sure he could hear how loudly your heart was beating.
“It’s alright if you don’t feel the same,” Nikolai said, “or if you’re not ready. I’m a very patient man.”
It was like your limbs had suddenly regained the ability to move, because something clicked in your mind. You took his face in your hands and you kissed him with a brazen fierceness you didn’t even know you had.
For a man with two bruised ribs and one broken one, he kissed you back with the same intensity, if not more. You poured all your fear, all your anxiety, all your worries about him into the kiss, reveling in the warmth of his lips and his hands and—
Tolya cleared his throat. “We’re nearly out of the Fold.”
You pulled away as quickly as it had started, Nikolai looking very pleased with himself as you fixed the collar of your kefta and looked over at him with eyes that were surely more pupil than iris.
“Thank you, Tolya,” you said, and you cleared your throat as well. Good of him to ignore the two of you. Embarrassing of you to nearly forget about your surroundings when you looked at Nikolai.
“Yes,” Nikolai said, mirth in his voice, “thank you, Tolya.”
You rolled your eyes as you turned back to him, your lips still burning from his kiss, and you settled your hands back on Nikolai’s chest.
“No more interruptions,” you said. “I’ve got to get you healed and dressed before we’re off the sand.”
His eyes twinkled. “Whatever you say, lapushka.”
You had no idea what was next. The Sun Summoner died on the Fold, the Darkling’s reign of terror was finally over, and Nikolai was to be King. You didn’t know where you would fit in, though you were sure he would find a place.
But you loved Nikolai, and by the Saints, Nikolai loved you.
And for now, that was more than enough.
#nikolai lantsov x reader#nikolai lantsov x you#nikolai lantsov x y/n#nikolai lantsov#nikolai lantsov fic#nikolai lantsov fluff#nikolai lantsov angst#nikolai lantsov the love of my life#shadow and bone x reader#shadow and bone fic#grishaverse x reader#sadie writes
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Poppy Seeds -- Part One
As you may have guessed, I fell into a new hyper fixation. Poppy's Playtime of all things. >.<
Inspired by TooManyPsuedonyms work, which in turn was inspired by @semisolidmind fanart/cabin!Au for Playtime Poppy.
I know right now we have no idea who or what Ollie is, but I decided to go with the assumption he is just a kid and not the Prototype as some theorists are assuming. This will likely be debunked in chapter four, but I'm running with it until then.
Dogday/Player!reader (attempting keeping it gender neutral)
Warnings: will touch on the after effects of trauma, but nothing is super explicit. Maybe some unhealthy coping skills (Dogday holding Reader on a pedestal) But otherwise we're giving everyone a happy ending. (Everything is wonderful and nothing hurts)
One: Home
Your hands gripped the steering wheel tight as your old truck climbed up the steep incline. It hadn't liked the rough road on a good day, let alone with Kissy and Dogday in the back trying to drag it down. Now it whined and complained, the wheels occasionally skidding on the gravel. Ollie clutched to Poppy tightly next to you, his sunken eyes wide with fear. Poppy, to her credit, looked confident that everything would be okay.
By the time you reached the cabin nestled high above the valley, it was close to midnight. It was a sizable two story home, complete with a barn, garage, and even a chicken coop. Thick forest surrounded the homestead, assuring complete privacy. A year ago your grandparents had moved into an assisted living community in town, leaving the whole place to you. The rest of the family had not been happy but in your defense you would come out every school break growing up to help them out.
And then, after you left Playtime Co, you had moved in under the guise of getting your life sorted out. Your grandparents never asked why it was taking you a decade to figure it out. Which you were glad, because you didn't know how you would have answered them.
Ollie’s fear eased into wonder as he looked at the flock of sheep you had in the pens up front. You were just thankful they were still there, looking rather healthy despite the fact you had been unexpectedly gone for a week or so.
When you had received the letter and VHS about the old Playtime Co you had interned 10 years ago while in college, you thought you would be gone for a few days at most considering it was a few hours away. You prepped your home as best as you could for being gone that long-- giving extra water and feed to the animals, setting the sprinklers for your garden on a timer-- but had little hopes of your own survival let alone that of your animals after being dragged deep into hell.
You didn’t bother with the detached garage, but pulled up right next to the porch. You were exhausted, and you could only imagine everyone else was as well. The truck seemed all too happy to shut off with a rough sound. You looked over at Ollie, who was still looking at everything in wonder, though Poppy was carefully extracting herself from his grip. “You okay there kiddo?”
He looked back at you, “This is where you live?” he asked instead, voice full of awe. “It looks like it's from a fairytale book!”
It really wasn't, it's a typical farm for this part of the country. Hardly one of the fanciest or beautiful, just simple and sturdy.
“Let's get inside and get settled for the night,” you offer instead of remarking. “I should have the stuff for some sandwiches at least.”
“Sand…witches?” Ollie repeated, sounding confused.
“Meat and bread,” Poppy answered, unbuckling the boy. “Sometimes with ketchup, mustard, mayo, cheese.”
“So, food? I like food!”
Your heart ached. You knew the boy had been raised in the factory, hidden away and protected from the Prototype or hungry ‘toys’. The fact he had was a miracle enough--especially considering how small and thin he was. He had to be ten at the youngest, but barely looked as if he was half that age.
The passenger door opened, which considering how much trouble Kissy had with her hands, was surprising. Yet the pink creature reached in and pulled both Ollie and Poppy out of the truck.
Dogday waited for you as you exited the truck, your legs shaky from the long ride. However, his attention wasn't on you but the dark sky above. It was a new moon, meaning the Milky Way arched overhead with dozens of stars. A glance over to Kissy and the others showed they too were amazed by the stars--you could hear Poppy trying to explain all of it to Ollie quietly.
“It's beautiful, isn't it?” You said as you stepped closer to Dogday.
“Yeah,” he whispered. “I-I’ve never seen the night sky like this.”
“Well, now you can see it every night,” you said, shouldering his arm lightly. “Best place for meteor showers too.”
Dogday tore his gaze away and looked down at you. “Are you sure we can stay here, angel?”
“Of course. As long as you want, even if it's forever.” Granted, you didn't know where else they would go, especially Dogday and Kissy. But you didn't want to assume anything either, or make them feel trapped.
His hand found yours, so giant compared to yours but soft and warm. “Forever it is then.”
You felt your cheeks warm against the chilly night air as you laughed self-consciously. “Right, you might wanna sleep on that kind of decision, ‘Day.”
Two: Sleep
You woke slowly, feeling warm and cozy. Something soft was surrounding you, with the faintest hint of vanilla. At first you thought maybe you were wrapped up in a thick blanket, but when you opened your eyes to matted brown fur you realized it was Dogday instead, his arms wrapped around you and holding you close as if you were the toy. You could feel him breathe softly, each inhale and exhale caressing your skin softly.
(You didn't want to think about the amalgamation of organic and inorganic parts inside of him. You saw enough when you helped attach his legs to leave you with nightmares.)
For once, Dogday looked relaxed. Dark eyes closed and his smile softened. You couldn’t resist running your fingers along his face. He had been one of the few you had instantly trusted in that hell. One of the few that never even seemed to think about harming you.
Poppy had used you for her own means, not giving you a real choice ever since you released her. Kissy Missy had always been kind but you had soon realized that her partnership with Poppy may have played a part in it. And of course there was Ollie, though it took a while for you to trust the faceless voice on the phone, especially after you learned that the Prototype could mimic voices and Ollie had a very… peculiar way of phrasing things.
Yet Dogday… he had raised his head, and saw you as someone special as soon as his gaze met yours. Begged you to leave him behind and to run when the miniature Critters started to swarm. Actively fought to defend and protect you despite missing the lower half of his body at first.
And ever since, had refused to leave your side. While everyone else did their part, he determinedly stuck with you. Even last night after everyone finished eating and all anyone could think about was sleep. Kissy happily cuddled Poppy and Ollie in her arms as she climbed up the stairs to claim a bedroom. You expected Dogday to follow suit…
“Hey, uh, angel?” Dogday said softly, sounding rather shy. He had stuck around to help you clean up, though all that consisted of was a few plates, cups, and butter knives. Though the number of sandwiches consumed had emptied out all the bread, lunchmeat, cheese, as well as peanut butter and jelly in your pantry.
“Yeah?” You were getting used to the nickname, though you still felt as if it was undeserved the way he said it. As if you truly were an angel from heaven, sent to save.
“... Could I sleep with you?”
His question surprised you, and you almost dropped the cup you had been washing. Thankfully he quickly grabbed it before it could fall very far. “Sleep…with me?”
Granted those last two… days? You weren't sure, but you and him had found safe spots to watch out for each other while the other slept. It was the only time during the whole ‘adventure’ you managed to sleep. Wrapped up in his arms, feeling him breathe, listening to his heartbeat. It reminded you weren't alone anymore.
“I… don't want to be alone,” he continued, drying off the cup and placing it on the shelf. “Even if I know you and the others are nearby, I…”
Your surprise shifted into sympathy and understanding. Kissy, Poppy, and Ollie were together… and now that you thought about it, being alone right now did not fill you with any sort of ease.
“Yeah. I mean, if you don't mind cuddling close. My bed is barely big enough for two normal-sized people, let alone one me and one… well, Dogday.”
His smile widened. “With you? Never.”
Dogday shifted in his sleep, turning his head to nuzzle into your hand before his eyes slowly opened. His smile widened slightly, and you heard more than saw his tail thump against the bed which in turn made you smile wider as well. “Morning,” you greeted softly.
“Good morning, angel,” he said just as softly. “Did you sleep well?”
“Best sleep in a long time,” you admitted with a slight laugh. Trying to sleep in the factory had been a scary experience. Finding small places to hide long enough to close your eyes. Waking and jumping at every little sound. Plagued by endless nightmares.
And you had been there for just a few days, a week at most.
“What about you?” you asked. Him and the others had lived in that hell for a decade. You didn't startle awake from him lashing out at nightmares. Which you had seen him do a few times before at the factory. You had held him in your laps as best you could, reassuring him he was okay as he broke down.
He leaned closer, nuzzling your cheek slightly. “Next to you, how could I not?”
You laughed between his flirty words and his fur tickling your skin. “You're such a flirt!”
Three: Morning After
“It's so bright outside!” Ollie gasped as he looked out the window while you worked on breakfast. Thankfully none of the eggs had spoiled, nor had any milk, meaning you were whipping up a full course of scrambled eggs and pancakes-- as well as cooking the few boxes of frozen sausages you had found in the freezer.
Dogday was currently watching them like a hawk, occasionally licking his lips as he moved them around in the skillet.
“Actually. That's cloudy. See how the sky is gray. Not blue?” Poppy pointed out, also gazing out the window. “On sunny days, it's a bright vibrant blue, and even brighter.”
“Really?” The boy looked up to you to confirm the doll's words, and you nodded your head. To think he had never seen the sky before. To be unable to tell a sunny day from a cloudy one.
“It actually looks like it could rain,” you pointed out. “Maybe we should hold off on a bath until after you have fun in the mud.”
His brow furrowed in confusion. “I thought if you get caught in the rain, you'll get sick?”
“Psh, no. At least, not as long as you can dry off and warm up afterwards. It'll also give me time to look through stuff down in the basement. I think there should be some old hand me downs that should fit you.”
“A good bath can do wonders.” Poppy hopped down from the windowsill and into Kissy's hand before the giant monster also gently corralled Ollie to the table where the food was waiting. “It's been such a long time.”
“Er, excuse me for being intrusive…” you set down a towering plate of pancakes before sitting yourself. “But can you guys get wet?”
“We may not be flesh and bone anymore, but we can still enjoy a good shower,” Dogday answered as he set the plate of sausage links in front of you. “Or even a swim.”
“Why is the water white?” Ollie interrupted, looking oddly at the glass of milk Kissy poured in front of him. “I've never seen it that color before.”
“It’s milk,” Poppy answered. “You used to love it when you were a baby and we had access to some.”
Ollie sniffed suspiciously before taking a drink… and then nearly gulping the entire glass in one go. You took the opportunity of everyone chuckling at the boy to split the sausage between the others. Kissy noticed first and clapped excitedly, her mit-like hands muffling the sound.
“Angel,” Dogday sighed, though you weren't sure he was touched or exasperated. Or maybe both.
“Shh, I saw the way you were eyeing them. I can always buy more when I go to town.”
He was silent for a while before taking a bite of the sausage, savoring it unlike Kissy who had all but inhaled hers. Ollie was following Kissy’s example with the banquet of food, while Poppy was benign as dainty as could be, cutting everything into tiny bites, even for her smaller size.
You couldn’t help but savor your own food, feeling rather happy and optimistic about the future.
#poppy playtime#poppy playtime chapter 3#dogday poppy playtime#dogday x reader#dogday/reader#dogday x player#dogday/player#poppy#kissy missy#ollie
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ugh think of like just jamming out to music (like upbeat rap/hip-hop) and hobie just being like wtf got you so happy and u give him one of ur earbuds and he can't help but jam with u (let's be honest here tho he'd try to pretend like it sucked ass just to mess with u). I just love this man♡♡
also i love ur writing so much it makes me wanna cry (but happy tears) thank youuu!!!
: ̗̀➛ STUBBORN.
hobie brown x reader
REQUESTS ARE OPEN
thank u angel for the kind words !! ur amazing, thank u for the req!!
“what you smilin’ at, darlin'?” hobie looked down at you, slipping his warm hand into yours as he sat beside you.
it wasn’t uncommon for him to tuck you into his side, swinging you both onto the top of a bridge, building or any structure that overlooked london – it was one of your favourite things to do. take in the sights of the prepossessing skyline, cozy with your lover above the crowds and anguish of the city below. hobie would relish in seeing you so peaceful.
he was sat next to you, legs dangling off the edge, playing with your fingers, guitar discarded on the concrete behind you, though he would usually play for you when you were both alone.
cross-legged, you sat with your phone in your lap, one earbud in, the other dangling across your chest, blasting a new playlist you’d constructed. you’d been absentmindedly bobbing your head to the beat, a minute hum sounding in your throat.
“oh, uh,” you read aloud the song name and artist, too distracted to see hobie’s look of disapproval, “do you wanna listen?”
looking up at him, you caught his rather annoying what-do-you-think expression, to which you rolled your eyes.
“don’t be so stubborn,” you picked up the second earbud with your free hand and offered it to him, smiling when he reluctantly took it. he knew the music you listen to was incredibly varied, often a wide range of artists he’d never heard of. your music collection at home was eclectic, and he was almost convinced you had a song for any scenario possible.
sighing, he popped the earbud in, being met immediately with an unfamiliar melody.
“‘the fuck is this?” he muttered, a displeased expression etched onto his face. if you didn’t know him so well, you’d almost be offended, but you just smirked to yourself and continued playing the song.
a minute or two pass and you’re humming the tune again, tapping your fingers against the back of his hand. turning your gaze to him, you almost cheered at the sight you were met with.
looking down, hobie sat with his eyes closed, his head bobbing along to the beat. he almost looked impressed. smiling, the innocence of the moment warmed your heart. he was in his own world, peaceful and gentle, his hand in your lap tapping along with you. you knew he’d like the song, that’s why you put it on.
“see!” you squealed with excitement, squeezing his fingers, his eyes shooting open, “i knew you’d like it!”
he didn’t even answer at first, just huffed and turned his head from you. he didn’t wanna see your beaming, satisfied smile, knowing you’d read him like a book.
“it was alright, i guess.”
giddy, you squeezed his hand tight and cuddled into his arm, the feeling of his cuffs not even phasing you as the excitement flooded, and he was fighting battles not to turn and tease you for it.
finally turning back to look at you, you had your head resting on his shoulder, arms wrapped up in his, your legs swinging mindlessly off the concrete ledge. leaning down, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, earning a tiny content sigh from you.
“what else do you ‘ave on there?”
#across the spiderverse#hobie brown#atsv hobie#hobie#hobie my beloved#hobie spiderverse#hobie x reader#spiderpunk#hobie brown x reader#hobie brown x you#hobie brown imagine#hobie brown fanfiction#hobie headcanons#spider punk x reader#spiderverse x reader#spider punk#spider punk x you#request#anon#love-bitesx
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Enchanted to meet you | CL16
part 1 , part 2
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x singer!reader
Summary: cheating in never a option it's a choice, a choice that he made while she loved him with her whole heart but you know there's nothing that she do better than revenge.
Genre: SMAU
warnings: google translated french, grammar mistakes, incorrect time line to match the story line, A LOT of charles slandering (I'm sorry my love)
Author's note: important! this is not any kind hate towards alexandra she's a beautiful woman from inside and outside this is all fiction and if I see ANY hate toward her in comments you'll be blocked...and also this fic is slandering our it boy as well, so don't attack me for that because I love that guy sm, my username and profile should explain a lot, that's it hope you y'all like it 🫶🏻
fc: Gracie Abrams
celebnews
liked by username, username, username and 46,29,38 others
celebnews do you believe in fairytale? Well...no not anymore, the popular singer and songwriter Y/n L/n and formula 1 driver Charles Leclerc recently made their relationship public, they were also given the nickname called "the it couple" everything seemed perfect and fairytale and rainbows until few days ago Charles was spotted with a girl on his yatch which sources says is an arts student named Alexandra saint melux and the duo looked pretty comfortable around eachother, or more than comfortable meanwhile y/n was in new york for her work, thoughts on this?
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username say sike rn.
username THE AUDACITY OF SOME MEN
username literally not even a proper month.
username all these while she was working her ass off??
⤷username yup...she was in nyc.
username cheating is never a option, it's a choice.
username men really can't handle a successful women now can they?
⤷username not all men.
⤷username yup, but somehow always men.
username If I had a nickel for every time charles leclerc cheated on his girlfriend with her friend, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.
⤷username FRIEND?? Y/N AND ALEXANDRA WERE FRIENDS??!!
⤷username apparently yeah, that's how Charles and Alex met in first place?
⤷username yup, y/n and Alex we're friends and when y/n started dating Charles, she moved to monaco and I guess there she met alex in a art show or something and then they both become really good friends and y/n, charles and Alex all three of them used to hangout together, there are many pictures
⤷username how did I not know this?
⤷username because it was not much of a big deal, we all thought they're all just friends hanging out together.
⤷username that's honestly so fucked up.
username once a cheater always a cheater.
yourinstagram added to story
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sabrinacarpenter babe this is not you.
conangray I'm coming over rn.
username babe nooooo!!
username charles marc herve perceval leclerc count your days.
oliviarodrigo pick up my call.
iMessage
instagram
yourinstagram
liked by carlossainz55, rubendias, sabrinacarpenter and 39,739,828 others
yourinstagram I would rather spend my time a honest whore rather than a dishonest lover. (ps: that wasn't me on my story, i don't cry over disappointments 🥰)
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sabrinacarpenter honest whore are so much cooler too.
⤷yourinstagram exactly.
landonorris thanks for that ps i was actually quite concerned
⤷yourinstagram nah don't worry Lan.
⤷username "lan" Charles could never ruin their friendship.
⤷username don't mention his name here.
conangray men are for ruining your lipstick not your mascara.
⤷username tell em conan!
rubendias he's not worth your tears anyway 💙
⤷yourinstagram thanks ruby, I miss you sm.
⤷rubendias booking flight rn.
⤷username mom and dad finally reuniting 😭
⤷username I'm new to all of this can any of you explain how ruben and y/n know eachother??!! I'm a massive city and y/n fan and i didn't knew that they were bestfriends??!!
⤷username for 4 years actually, they met in 2019 when ruben was at Benfica B, as much i can remember y/n was in protugal for her very first tour and I think ruben attended that concert and then y/n attended his match and both of them become friends and then they got super close and then after ruben moved to manchester city, y/n started to attend his matches more often and slowly they became bestfriends.
⤷username that is actually so cute 😭😭💙💙
oliviarodrigo what a beauty.
⤷yourinstagram oli you're the best 💜
username bro actually fumbled SO bad
carlossainz55 reina ❤️ (queen)
⤷yourinstagram muchos gracias carlitos ❤️ (thank you so much carlitos)
⤷username and i oop-
⤷username i love how the entire grid is on her side.
⤷username as they should.
⤷username I'm not shipping but it would be so iconic if her and carlos started dating
⤷username dts be like: where do I sign?
⤷username no but actually netflix is not gonna let this drama slide.
lilymhe beautiful, gorgeous, cutest, attractive, adorable, charming ,dainty, delightful ,pleasant, pretty
⤷yourinstagram LILYYY!!! ILOVEYOU!
⤷lilymhe I love you toooooo!!!!
⤷yourinstagram we should definitely go out!
⤷lilymhe yesyesyesyesyes!!!
⤷alex_albon can I join? Please?
⤷lilymhe nah it's a girl dinner.
⤷francisca.cgomes I'm joining you all.
⤷pierregasly pleaaaseeee!!!!
⤷francisca.cgomes no.
⤷sabrinacarpenter got room for one???
⤷oliviarodrigo two**??
⤷yourinstagram yesyesyesyes
⤷username I'm begging on my knees, let me in please
⤷username this group is gonna be SOO iconic.
lewishamilton you deserve someone million times better.
⤷yourinstagram thank you lew 🥹🫶🏻
⤷username MY KING.
⤷username nah that guy literally messed up big time.
szoboszlaidominik gyönyörű lány 🩷 (beautiful girl)
⤷yourinstagram thanks domi 🫶🏻🫶🏻
⤷username my girl is literally collecting every hot guys.
⤷username post breakup y/n is gonna be soo iconic.
username mother.
yourinstagram
liked by rubendias, lilymhe, szoboszlaidominik and 48,938,940, others
yourinstagram girls dinner ft. some stupid boys🥂 (they begged us to come)
tagged; sabrinacarpenter, oliviarodrigo, lilymhe, alex_albon, pierre_gasly, francisca.cgomes, rubendias, carlossainz55, landonorris, szoboszlaidominik
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oliviarodrigo your sports friends are cool i guess, but their girl's are cooler
⤷lilymhe you and Sab are super cool as well! It was awesome meeting you guys.
⤷sabrinacarpenter the pleasure was all mine ✨
rubendias finally! reunited and happy!
⤷yourinstagram reUNITED and happy 👀?? Nah buddy I don't think so
⤷szoboszlaidominik lmao 💀.
carlossainz55 I INFACT DID NOT BEGGED YOU! you told ME to tag along.
⤷yourinstagram AND you didn't wanted to????
⤷carlossainz55 I'm not saying that....
⤷username and i oop-
⤷username if i speak now.
⤷username shhhh
francisca_cgomes could've been better without those idiots tbf.
⤷yourinstagram ikr
⤷pierregasly WOW you're literally MY girlfriend
⤷francisca_cgomes says who?
⤷username lmfaoo iconic iconic iconic.
landonorris your footballer friends are amazing ngl.
⤷rubendias i have a name.
⤷szoboszlaidominik me too.
⤷landonorris my bad g.
⤷username fuck everything DOMINIK AND RUBEN interaction is what I'm living for.
lilymhe you're so beautiful marry me please
⤷yourinstagram yes yes yes!!!!
⤷alex_albon yeah.....no.
⤷lilymhe who are you?
⤷username I'm loving this wayyy toooo much
maxverstappen1 where was my invitation????
⤷yourinstagram sorry maximus, it was like a last minute plan
⤷username maximusss 😭😭
username literally the entire grid and their girlfriends are on y/n' side
⤷username as they should.
username even max is team y/n, my guy just can't stop taking W.
username this is the defination of iconic.
username dts gonna be so fun.
username can't wait for next gp.
celebnews
liked by username, username, username and 386,892 others
celebnews when at some point we all thought Charles Leclerc was regretting his decision or mistake, he infact was not, yesterday charles leclerc and probably his new girl alexandra saint mleux was seen leaving a fancy restaurant in Monaco, few fans said that the 'couple' seemed very happy and after that they both left to charles appartment in his custom pista, that's a very shameless behaviour. thoughts?
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username this guy have 0 shame
username disgusting, absolutely disgusting.
username tbh we don't care, y/n is living her life with her friends and his teammate lmao.
⤷username ikr like no one even cares about this guy 💀.
username bro realised he fumbled hard and have 0 chances of a second chance so bro settled down.
⤷username real
username we do not care, y/n got multiple guys who would treat her way better than this sore loser.
⤷username yeah?? like who? no offense but Charles better than all of "her guys"
⤷username yeah not really, Carlos his teammate certainly beat him this season, Lando his rival out performed him as well despite being in McLaren, Ruben and Dominik actually good at what they do, so I can assure she got a lot of guys who is better than him and imagine defending a cheater who shamelessly admits it and literally start hanging out with his side chick.💀💀
⤷username ate her up lmao
rubendias who?
⤷username KINGGGGG
⤷username defending his girl on and off pitch.
⤷username rubennnnnn
username bro's smashing (in walls)
⤷username lmfaaaoooo
username can't spell charles leclerc without L, L and L.
charles_leclerc
liked by alexandrasaintmleux , joris_trouch and 38,395,689 others
charles_leclerc there's a thing called privacy.
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lilymhe there's also a thing called loyalty.
⤷username queen ate him up.
⤷username the L in lily stands for legendary.
⤷username y/n's no.1 defender.
⤷username i love this woman sm 😭
username yeah you wish it was because if it wasn't then you'll never be caught cheating.
carlossainz55 lmao.
⤷username ohhhh hell yeah vegas is gonna be verrryyyyy interesting
⤷username see not trying to be weird and all but I ⛴️.
⤷username ⛴️🛳️🚢
⤷username guyssss.....what if....
⤷username yes!.
⤷username damn...i kinda wanted her to get with ruben but carlos would work too....
⤷username OHHH DTS WHERE ARE YOU NOW??!!
username face of a cheater
username imagine crashing every race and then having the audacity to cheat on a successful woman who's actually good at what she does, lmfao.
⤷username bro FUMBLED HARD.
username ew.
username y/n should make a song about this cheating ahh loser.
liked by landonorris
⤷username landooooo????!!!
⤷username Lando what do you know???
maxverstappen1 atleast be honest with yourself.
⤷username EVEN MAX LMFAAOOO
⤷username if i was charles leclerc I would've locked myself in my house.
username bro fucked up very badly.
username bro have balls of steel to come on internet and post this.
username no offense but this twig cheated on my girl???
⤷username ik sweetie ik, a strange world we live in.
username oh the music is coming y'all, I can feel it.
yourinstagram
liked by carlossainz55, rubendias, sabrinacarpenter and 39,838,973 others
yourinstagram welllll you guys called it, new one coming...soon 👀.
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sabrinacarpenter ohhhhhhh myyyy goooooddd!!!!
⤷username my exact reaction.
⤷username sab is one of us.
⤷username supportive queen.
oliviarodrigo a hint? Is it sad or a absolute menace???
⤷yourinstagram guess we'll find out soon.
⤷username I'm really craving sad tbh....
⤷username oh she would destroy him in sad genre.
carlossainz55 can I say that I was the first person to hear that masterpiece??
⤷yourinstagram no
⤷carlossainz55 okay (I was)
⤷username ahm ahm...
⤷rubendias excuse me?!!
⤷username so we all know it's gonna be a masterpiece.
⤷username well it always is, every music she makes is a work of art.
rubendias still hurted by the fact that carlos heard it before me but okay I can't wait to enjoy it with the whole world.
⤷yourinstagram sorry rubs but he wouldn't leave me alone!
⤷carlossainz55 ACCUSATIONS!
⤷username so we can all feel it no?
⤷username shhh don't jinx it
szoboszlaidominik can't wait for it gyönyörű (beautiful)
⤷yourinstagram thank you domi!!
username SCREAMING CRYING
username finally!!!!! I've waited months for a song from mother.
username mother mother???!!!!
⤷username that's a band.
⤷username girl-
username i can't wait for it.
username song of the year.
⤷username it's not even released yet??!!
⤷username OK, and??
username oh my god I used to pray for times like this.
username finally the queen is back. (She never left)
username oh how I love being a y/n stan.
username finally!!!
╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾
ps: I finally did it! Thank you soooo much for waiting! And yes there will be part 4 AND once again this is no hate to charles or alexandra this is all just fiction so take it lightly, thank you 🫶🏻
#formula 1#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc smau#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc social media au#f1 driver x reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 fic#f1 driver x you#carlos sainz#dominik szoboszlai#ruben dias
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The Lin Kuei trio + Raiden reacting to their usually nice, compassionate, and generally nurturing s/o suddenly looks at an enemy and goes "You have five f**king seconds before I rip open your stomach and turn your innards into a noose." And proceeds to do just that to frightening effect?
First time writing for Raiden, so hell probably be ooc and some shitty character writing to be made aware of 😂 🦦
Tomas Vrbada
Honestly didn’t see that coming.
He guessed that what he got for judging a book by it’s cover and Tomas learnt that rather fast upon seeing you destroy your opponent in frightening quick succession. So upon seeing your sweet tender smile afterwards whilst covered in blood was bone chilling to Tomas, knowing that someone so sweet, so kind, so caring and nurturing like you had the ability to switch up to a more vicious and violent version persona.
Tomas would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t find you covered in someone else’s blood extremely attractive. So you best mark him down as scared and horny because holy shit.
Like Raiden, he felt the need to protect you and keep you within range of him, but that’s mainly because he’s absolutely terrified of losing you like he lost his family. So he knew that he could come across as overbearing at time when it came to keeping you safe, but you knew that it all came from a good place, and that Tomas was trying so hard to avoid a repetition of in his past to happen to you; So upon learning that you didn’t in fact need his help in keeping you safe, he allows himself to relax a little and ease off of you in fear of being the next person you pummel.
To which he knew wouldn’t be the case but that pent up anger you displayed must’ve come from somewhere.
Tomas came to accept that the hands that he came to love and admire whilst melting within their warm, tender and nurturing hold as they cupped his face, also possessed the ability to mane and destroy just as easily as they could heal and mend his broken heart and patch up his open wounds from intensive missions.
Kuai Liang
Surprised but honestly wonders where it was that you had learnt to defend yourself and in that brutal fashion.
So while everyone else was taken aback when you inevitably unleash hellfire upon your opponents to frightening effect. Kuai Liang on the other hand was only feeling sorry for the poor bastard on the receiving end of your vicious blows, they looked like they fucking hurt that Kuai Liang was for certain on.
Upon first meeting you, Kuai Liang genuinely believed that you either had no prior experience in combat, or just held a distain towards all things violent and purposefully adhere it all together; Not that he was claiming that was a bad thing. It was just a rarity to come across someone like you. To the point where Kuai Liang would often worried that someday someone would sniff this out, before then proceeding to taking advantage and manipulate you into shady business under the pretences of doing good.
He didn’t want to tarnish your kind, caring and loving nature by bringing this up in fear that it would only make you think negatively, and or ashamed of yourself, which would never ever be his primary intention. Kuai Liang was too aware of the horrible people that blended within the shadows and lurked in dark alleyways, so therefore he didn’t want you getting involved in something that would alter you into a person that you would forever hate ever becoming.
Knowing now that you could fully protect yourself if the instance ever did arrive, Kuai Liang would only become more adamant in helping you incorporate moves of self defence into your arsenal, so you’ll always be ready for near enough anything if he wasn’t able to be with you.
Bi-Han
He is proud as all hell.
While your vulgar threat made his brows raise in slight surprise but mainly curiosity, having wondered where this side chaotic and violent of you had came from, but ultimately took a sickening form of satisfaction of seeing you back up your words by utterly decimating your enemy with doing what you forewarned was about to happen; He might as well looked like an utter mad man with how much attention he was giving, good lord.
He’s giving your fighting style an close and in-depth examination, taking notes on everything that you did good and everything that you could use some improvement upon with his help as though he was locked within a high intensity game of chess! Someone was getting brutally pulverised and yet Bi-Han could only watch on with genuine intrigue on articulating methods in to making you even more deadly in combat.
He’s seen a golden opportunity and he would be stupid to let it go now.
Raiden
Scared and horny 2.0
Poor baby is taken aback by your vicious side.
However he would still hold your hand as though they were made of porcelain as he takes a wet cloth and cleans away the blood and viscera from your knuckles to take care of your bruises that lied beneath from brutally beating down your enemy. You’re still the kind, caring and nurturing person he knows and loves, you just got some added qualities that’s all!
Even though your caring and nurturing nature often made you look weak and in constant need of defending in the eyes of others, Raiden didn’t see it the way that they did. While yes he felt this obligation to keep you out of harms way and keep you close, that’s just how Raiden is as a person to defend those who couldn’t defend themselves. And that was in no way shape or form meant to be taken as him disregarding your ability to protect yourself.
That wasn’t his intention and if you did believe that were the case. Then he would have no qualms in reminding you of how much he trusts you to protect yourself, even going so far as to sight this as a major example of that. Your fighting style may be consistent of the usage of deadly and lethal force but Raiden knew that you wouldn’t willingly use it against just anybody, only using it as a method of self defence first and foremost, unless further provoked into engaging in a full altercation.
Much like Tomas, Raiden probably also thought that you being covered in someone else’s blood was attractive in it’s own regard.
#mk1#mk x y/n#mk imagine#mk x reader#mk1 x reader#mortal kombat 1 x reader#mortal kombat x y/n#mortal kombat x you#mortal kombat x reader#mortal kombat imagine#mortal kombat imagines#bi han imagines#bi han x you#bi han imagine#bi han x reader#sub zero x reader#scorpion x reader#kuai liang x you#kuai liang imagines#kuai liang imagine#kuai liang x reader#smoke x reader#tomas vrbada x you#tomas vrbada imagine#tomas vrbada x reader#raiden x reader#raiden x you#raiden x y/n
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A little present event: fem reader 🦋 + yandere Al Haitham 🌺 🥺
Title: Learning to love
Character(s): Al Haitham (Genshin Impact)
Summary: He offered a proposal, a trial of sorts to see if you and him were really a match.
Warnings/tags: Yandere themes, fem!reader, soulmates au, toxic relationship, manipulation
The continuation to: The Akasha's choosing
[ - A little present~! Event - Closed - ]
You bit your lip when you saw Al Haitham waiting for you outside your small humble home again seated on one of the outdoor stools. "You are awake. I thought you would sleep a little more considering how tired you were last night from getting lost in the forest."
"Thank... thank you for finding me back then..." You looked down, it was because of him that you were able to find your way back home. But it was him that you were running away from that you winded up there. You know it was much, if anyone knew that someone was trying to avoid them this much to the point they would become lost... it would hurt the person. Yet you could not help yourself.
These feelings inside yourself felt like they were twisting your stomach yet you just can't push it down.
"Hmmm. Well, you don't have to worry about that though you should really consider other ways to avoid me."
You flinched at his words, feeling your heart rate speed up as you looked away guilty.
"I notice a long time ago that you were avoiding me, heading out so early in the morning when you usually stay in bed a little more in the past." Al Haitham looked at you from his book, waiting to see if you have something to say before continuing "I am guessing you are not really fond of this idea of soulmates. That you are acting like this? Personally, I think I would be much better if you were to say outright say that you hate me rather than run away constantly like this."
"I-I don't!"
"Then why are you avoiding me?"
"I really don't... I just don't think that uhh... you and me are meant for each other." You sighed finally admitting to why you have been acting like this for a long time. "That there might be a mistake in the Akasha... I just don't think we are compatible. I am sorry... I should have told you that sooner."
You glanced at Al Haithams face wondering how he would react before looking down again in guilt. You didn't know how to bring the subject up and had avoided it for the longest time. In all honestly you were intimidated by him.
"So you are saying that the Akasha had made a mistake?" Al Haitham asked closing his book. "Are you sure? I don't think most people if any would take too kindly to what you said especially the sages." You flinched again suddenly realizing what you were implying. That the akasha that was created by the past dendro archon, which was used by everyone in Sumeru had made a mistake. You wanted to take your words back, your face flustered as you tried to think of a way to recover from the situation.
Al Haitham watching you sighed, leaning back a little as he stared right at you. "I understand having doubts. Even I wanted to see for myself whether this was just some delusion someone in the academia made yet was accepted by those sages. Those who only rely on the akasha when it is also controlled by mere men are nothing but fools who can't think for themselves."
You found his words harsh but stayed silent.
"Hmmm, how about this. We shall do a little test between us to see if we are compatible or not." You looked at Al Haitham in surprise. What did he mean by that?
Al Haitham shook his head a little a small sigh escaped his lips, raising a hand a little as he started to explain. "While I too am not particularly fond of the idea myself, how about seeing for ourselves whether we are actually compatible or not and stop playing this cat-and-mouse chase that would only lead to nowhere."
"We can do a series of tests for an extended period of time. If we don't think we are compatible we can go our separate ways and forget all this happen. But if we do, we can continue on and see where this takes us."
Your eyes looked at him in surprise, but the more you thought about it the more it made... sense. You could see for yourself if the two of you were actually compatible with each other.
Agreeing to his proposal you could not help but feel a little determined but you could not help but wonder, "But what should we do first?" Much to your embarrassment you never really dated before too focused to take care of yourself and putting food on the table.
"Hmmm just do things that couples do. We could start by *not* avoiding each other and work away from there." You flinched a little at this personal attack, unable to look at him in the eyes again.
But you did see a small smile on his lips.
The two of you started slow, Al Haitham being patient with you as you tried to be less awkward with him on your side. You guys started first by going to the forest when you needed to go there to collect herbs, mushrooms, and berries. With him mainly there to protect you from monsters or eremites and treasure hoarders. Most of the time he was reading a book a little farther than you as you go about collecting.
He tried to offer help to you a bit, but still too awkward you declined telling him that he should instead rest while you do your work. Instead, you had to promise him that you would tell him if you need his help getting something that was too far of reach or dangerous.
A lot of your lunches were spent with him. You now purposefully pack up meals meant for two people rather than one. As you seat in the grass or under a tree or maybe at home when you worked on the small farm you had you would share your meals with Al Haitham. He would eat without saying much, but you did notice he would look a little annoyed when you brought soup and later made sure not to bring them too often. (Al Haitham also offered to pack or buy lunches every so often to be fair, and when you first time you tried his cooking you could not help but be surprised. It was good!)
You didn't go out in public much with him since both of you did not want the attention of others. And when you did most of the academia students would stare in shock unable to understand that the famed scribe had a partner while others cooed at how cute of a couple you guys were.
An old granny had called the two of you cute when you were out picking groceries with Al Haitham right beside you examining the vegetables as he too needed to stock some food in his own home. You were flustered at her words, wanting to deny that you were a couple but with a glance that Al Haitham gave you, no words came out of your mouth as you tried to smile.
You thanked the grandmother for her words.
Next were small touches and kisses, your face was never this hot till when Al Haitham told you to kiss him. You were embarrassed when he started grabbing your hand or placing a hand on your shoulder but you stifled all your complaints as you told yourself this was a trial and that it was fine. But you still could not help yourself but become nervous as you stare at his face after what he said.
Al Haitham was always patient with you, and if you didn't want to do this you were sure that he would be fine with it. But seeing that he was trying, you would feel guilty if you were to say no now.
You looked at Al Haitham's face an eyebrow raised waiting before he asked if you do not want to do it. You shook your head telling him it was fine. He always reminded you that both sides needed to put in the effort, and you knew he did. So you must... it was just a small kiss really.
He waited for you, made no movements to take the lead in the kiss, and left you to do it as you took small hesitant steps toward him shyly. With Al Haitham sitting down you were forced to lean towards him as you close your eyes unable to stare to look into his face in such a close distance. You didn't see his reaction back then as you quickly kissed and then turned your back from him unable to look at him.
What was a small peck on the lips soon spiraled from there. Moving too fast you thought to yourself, as if whatever wall that you thought was there between you and him was never there from the start. But you thought that it was fine, that this was just a test to see if you were compatible. As you forced yourself to get used to the thankfully rare kisses that Al Haitham would make. But more often than not you were forced to sit on his lap or he would lie on yours as you both either nap, read a book, or finish an essay for his case.
There were some days he would stay at your place, stating that he was too "lazy" to go back home when he was tired and told you to think of this like another test. He didn't like it when you offered to sleep on the sofa scooping you and tossing you on the bed with a hand on your waist to prevent you from leaving the bed stating that this would be the most comfortable way to sleep at a single person bed, pulling you closer to him. You felt it was too intimate but didn't voice your thoughts when you heard his small snores already fallen deep asleep.
Whatever you tried to make space between you and him on the bed whenever he decided that he would stay for the night would quickly be gone as you would find him always holding you tight in his arms the moment you wake up almost like a stuffed toy that a kid liked.
You kept repeating to yourself that this was a trial if you were compatible and if things just did not work out that everything would just work out as you two separate unknown to you that Al Haitham was still awake looking down at your hair, his arms tightening around you.
To him, this was never a trial, but you were just too precious after all as he let you think as you please. He knew that you were never comfortable with his affections. But he knew you would get used to it. He would not let you go even if you didn't. You would get used to his touch, the idea of him by your side, he would make you get used to him and let him mold you to love him just as much that anxiety would drive you insane when he is not around.
He would never let you go.
#yandere genshin#yandere al haitham#yandere writing#yandere scenario#yandere imagine#yandere x reader#yandere x you#tw yandere#al haitham x you#genshin x you#al haitam x reader#genshin imagine#yandere al haitham x reader#yandere genshin imagines#genshin writing#genshin scenario#genshin imapct#genshin x y/n#genshin x reader#genshin drabble
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For Tuna; Rook End
A/N: editing this is gonna suck, cause Tumblr is so glitchy today 😭 but as I'm sure no one is surprised...some of you have been waiting a long time for this specific ending, so I figured he deserved his own title . The next ending is a three way tie, so keep an eye out for a poll in the next couple days.
Chapters One Two Three Choose another End
“Rook Hunt, you have been chosen-”
“At last! The moment has come!”
Grim was immediately second guessing his decision. Y/N had told him all about how Rook's family had multiple villas, so he'd thought he'd be willing to put up with him the one day a year he'd have to. But the man was far too excited.
“Wonderful,” Grim said through gritted teeth. “So what we'll do is, tomorrow-”
“You're adorable, Monsieur Fuzzball. No need for that though!”
“Huh?”
“I don't need you. Au revoir!”
Rook practically skipped out of the room, singing a cheery tune to himself.
….
Grim was terrified. All day he'd been waiting for whatever Rook had planned. He'd stuck to your side all day, quivering in anxiety.
“Okay, Grim, what's wrong?” You asked, finally tired of ignoring it for the sake of his pride.
“N- nothing is wrong, human! You insult me.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered.
You closed the book you'd been reading during the break in the lesson, and turned to him.
“Okay, so what's not wrong, then?”
Grim mumbled under his breath. But you soon forgot all about it, as the lights in the classroom dimmed, followed by a shower of rose petals raining down on all of you.
“Who is responsible?” Trein bellowed, but he was soon forgotten as well, as Rook appeared at the front under a single spotlight, violin music playing to his entrance.
“Bon jour!”
“What the fuck?” You whispered, quickly realizing that Grim was no longer by your side. He must have taken the opportunity to flee classes. Little rat.
“I am here because I can no longer keep silent about my affections!” He pressed one hand to his heart, the other dramatically extending to the classroom. “I am deeply in love.”
You looked to see if Trein would stop him, but just watched him sigh. Even the teacher knew to just let Rook be Rook.
“Mon Trickster! My heart beats so hard for you, it is apt to burst into a bloody mess of my adoration.”
There was now a second spotlight on you. You looked around to see where it was coming from, only to find there was no source of it.
A gust of wind picked up around Rook, making the rose petals that had fallen to the floor pick up, and swirl around him.
“Mon Tresor, say that you will allow me to forever kneel at your feet. Say that you will allow me to sing your adoration until my vocal cords tear. Say that I can write you poetry until my fingers fall off. Say-”
“God, Rook! I'd rather have you in one piece,” you cut him off with a laugh.
He stood upright with a light smile, swirling a finger in the air to turn the rose petals into a single rose. He gently kissed it, then tossed it to you across the classroom. You caught it, sniffing it and letting the aroma wash over you.
By the time you looked back up, he was standing right in front of you. You blinked, looking at the spot he was standing, then back at where he stood now. He smiled as though he was unperturbed by your confusion.
“If I stay in one piece, will you pledge your soul to me?” He asked sweetly.
“My soul? Not my heart?”
“For Seven’s sake, tell the boy whether you love him or not, so I can move on with the class,” Trein snapped.
“Okay! Rook, I like you too!” You said quickly.
“How exciting!” He snapped his fingers, and you heard the beginning of an orchestral intro.
Rook inhaled heavily, and began to sing.
“Goodness, class dismissed!” Trein shouted over the aria, which was not going to stop anytime soon. You gave Trein a pleading look. While you liked Rook, and were totally happy to start seeing him, this song sounded like it would go on for a while. Trein gave you an apologetic look as he shut the door of the classroom, locking it behind him.
....
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