I love a lot of people who
can’t love me back; rejection
feels less personal when I
can blame something else for
it. Some people only need to
be hurt once to never get over
it - the truth is I never want
to be not loved again the way
you didn’t love me.
Rebeka Anne, from now on I’m in charge of who hurts me
Summary:When you and your best friend have been attached to the hip practically since birth, you’re not going to let some scrap of cloth separate you. In which Oikawa redefines the meaning of a hatstall, and Headmistress McGonagall probably isn’t paid enough. Hogwarts AU!
Credit to @agapantoblu for the premise of Oikawa fighting the Sorting Hat forever to be in the same house as Iwaizumi (taken from this post). It’s just such a great idea that immediately sparked my dead writer brain.
Pairing: Iwaoi (You can take it either as queerplatonic or romantic) Word Count: 1470 Rating: G or K or basically as hair-raising as a stuffed teddy bear
They stopped calling it a hatstall twenty minutes ago.
It was unprecedented, to say the least. The Sorting Hat’s record for the longest time to sort a student was seven minutes and 23 seconds - something that Professor Flitwick felt the need to say repeatedly as his gaze flickered between his watch and the boy on the stool, back and forth as though he was afraid he might miss something.
Headmistress McGonagall failed to see exactly what he could miss. Certainly, just past the five minute mark, the hall could hardly contain the frenetic waves of anticipation, everyone excited at the sheer privilege of seeing a hatstall. Even McGonagall - with an impressive sixty years at Hogwarts under her belt - had only seen enough hatstalls to count on one hand.
eyes had widened, and then he’d laughed, a soft laugh. “Did you think I did not
know you had a secret?” he’d said. “Did you think I walked into my friendship
with you with my eyes shut? I did not know the nature of the burden you
carried. But I knew there was a burden.” He’d stood up. “I knew you thought
yourself poison to all those around you,” he’d added. “I knew you thought there
to be some corruptive force about you that would break me. I meant to show you
that I would not break, that love was not so fragile. Did I do that?” Will had shrugged once, helplessly. He had almost wished Jem would be angry with him. It would have been easier. He’d never felt so small within himself as he did when he faced Jem’s
expansive kindness. He thought of Milton’s Satan. Abashed the Devil
stood, / And felt how awful goodness is. “You saved my life,” Will had
you know what i rly love abt writing natasha ? she’s a former assassin with a shady past & a woman who keeps her secrets well but she doesn’t take herself srsly & doesn’t push everyone away. i could’ve easily gone down the path of the self-loathing killer who regrets everything she’s done & has to pay the consequences ( middle finger salute @ aou ) but instead, truly tell others that nat doesn’t hate herself or pushes people away. she doesn’t change for anyone to conform & she allows herself to care for those she feel truly deserves her affection, friend and/or lover.