#and she manages to bring up ruby in any conversation she's having

[ithaquakisser]

Hello!! I have a request (also a thought) what if the reader used to be Ithaquas friend but ended up being a victim of his brother and we end up kind of like his mom(or dead lmfao)…really angsty idk man I really need some pain rn

When The Wind Cries

Synopsis; You find yourself falling victim to the hands of Nathaniel Norwell.

CW; Graphic depictions of violence, gore, religious imagery, asphyxiation, depictions of anxiety and PTSD.

WC; ≈2.6k

Note; My apologies for not getting to your request sooner! I've been working a teensy bit slow as of lately and I have recently closed my requests, but I will make yours an exception. I just could not resist this lovely idea! 🫶

Your first moments together were shared in the midst of the snow. The aromatic scent of pine and cedarwood filled your senses, shivers trailing down your spine from the occasional winter breeze that’d pass you by. The air was light, and each breath you took was visible to the naked eye. Your fingertips were as cold as ice, holding a woven basket of herbs in your calloused hands. Ingredients were scarce at this time of the year, as well livestock.

Your hair danced with the arctic wind, a pair of cerulean hues meeting yours amidst the flurry. His eyes conveyed the frigid lakes that were enclosed in a thin sheet of ice whilst his platinum waves waltzed with the zephyr before him. Fur cloak flowing alongside the gale, he held a hunting knife in his hand. Behind him stood a young woman with fair skin, her auburn locks were akin to flames ignited in a wintry landscape. A woven basket like yours in hand, she carried a benign smile on her pale face.

With the roaring wind in your ears, you could not bring yourself to remember the boy’s name. Albeit the moments you shared were incised into your mind like stone. You vaguely recall the warmth emitting from the fireplace, brushing against your ruby-tinted cheeks as you held a cup of hot herbal tea in your hands. The mellow, dulcet taste of honey lingering on your tastebuds. The young man’s delighted expression to have someone to call a friend.

You mused the feeling of benevolence and tenderness in your heart after what felt like eons of solitude spent after the passing of your parents. For a brief moment, you aspired to shed a tear. You faintly remember the voice of your mother. Your father’s face was merely a blur in your collection of memories. Muffled under bundles of woolen blankets, you hearkened to the young woman’s voice as she sang a tune ever so familiar.

From that night on, you’d often meet the boy in your solitary chalet in the midst of the woods. He often bore gifts, a basket that contained medicinal herbs, a jar of honey, and roasted fowl. “Mother insisted I delivered these to you.” He spoke, his cheeks flushed a tinge of scarlet. “She is often concerned for your well-being. Based on my knowledge, your parents have passed on, have they?” You nodded your head in response as you averted your eyes from his, accepting the gifts.

“My sincerest apologies. Mother says you may visit anytime if you wish. It must be difficult living alone, isn’t it?” You swallowed, lowering your gaze. “I’ve simply been managing.” “If I may ask, what led to their passing?” You fidgeted with the hem of your scarf, burying your face into the soft fabric. “The plague has run rampant during the seasons. It took them both in their sleep. I’ve inherited this cabin in their stead following their death.”

“Before you question any more, I… buried them myself.” You stated, setting the woven basket down at your bedside. You witnessed as his eyes widened, seemingly staggered by your revelation. He apologized multiple times, stumbling over his words as he spoke. “I didn’t mean to remind you of such occurrences, I—” You shook your head and hushed him with a smile, dismissing the conversation entirely.

For the remainder of the evening, the two of you were seated at your fireplace, conversing over a cup of tea. The fireplace crackled in your ears while you two brief moments exchanged laughter, all you felt was warmth in your heart. You didn’t wish for this moment to end, if only you could freeze time, perhaps your heart would finally be at ease. Your eyes threatened to shed tears of joy whilst the two of you spoke utter nonsense, you even found yourself tittering like a tall child under his presence. You could only ponder your reality, and if this were to last.

Several nights subsequently, you fell into a slumber. You hadn’t seen their faces again, but one akin to his own. A set of nails pierced into your skin as they clasped your wrist, raising your arm into the air as the crowd chanted falsehoods into your ears. You were blinded by the flaming torches illuminating the vicinity, salty tears streaming from the corners of your e/c eyes. You writhed under the man’s grip, collapsing to your knees.

You cried out your dear friend's name, each of your limbs restrained against your own will. You met face to face with a devilish grin that simply couldn’t be the man you had known. “You ignorant pest. You know my name very well, do you not? Speak it.” You spat at his face, the cloaked man wiping away at his cheek with a scowl. He elicited a growl, striking you to the ground as the crowd cheered. “Arrest them at once.” He demanded. You struggled underneath the crowd’s grasp as they raised you from the dirt, kicking your feet into the air as you thrashed around.

The crowd cried out profanities under your name as you were apprehended at will, hauled through the dirt whilst you shrieked. You had known well this couldn’t be your dear friend. You denied all the possibilities as you grit your teeth, meeting with a crowd that condemned you for your “sins.” Sins you had sworn you never once committed. Words that had never once escaped past your lips.

You were nothing but a toy of amusement for the magistrate’s son. A puppet bound by shackles, you hung your head low under a dim candle-lit chamber. Droplets of cerise poured from your nostrils, splattering upon impact against the pavement beneath you. He’d interrogate you, speaking words you didn’t quite understand. You couldn’t part your lips to speak, your hands trembling within chains. He’d raise his hand once more to strike upon your scarred face with a grimace.

All that filled your senses was the metallic smell and bitter taste of your blood. He grabbed your face with a complacent grin, his nails sinking into your flesh as your e/c eyes met his. “The fool doesn’t wish to speak it seems? What must I do to make you utter a sound?” You glowered as he spoke, his voice laced with poison. “Don’t look at me like that. Allow me to enlighten you with the fact I’ve been quite lenient with you.”

“This… Is leniency to you?” You coughed, traces of blood spilling from your lips. “Certainly. If I hadn’t been, you would be burning at the stake by now.” You scoffed. “I do not need your pity.” The young man leered mockingly, smearing your blood across your cheek with his thumb. “Is that so?” He murmured, you were overcome with a sense of disquietude as his lips curled into a sneer. A hand enveloped your neck, your eyes widening.

You floundered within your manacles, letting out a wince as your breathing was constricted by the cloaked man before you. His slim fingers were wrapped tightly around your throat, a devilish grin on his face whilst you gasped for air. “Now tell me, do you not need my mercy?” Salty beads of tears formed at the corners of your eyes, you could feel the man’s grip on your throat grow tighter with each passing moment.

“Stop… Please…” You uttered, tightly squeezing your eyes shut. Teardrops streamed down your bruised face, and your vision slowly began to blur. You gasped for air, choking out pathetic attempts of cries. “Stop? Why should I? After all, sinners must be punished for their sins.” His constricting grasp resulted in labored breathing, your chest heaved as you struggled to muster desperate breaths. Your vision succumbed to pitch black, a faint sound of chimes ringing in your ears.

The salty, metallic taste of life lingered on your tastebuds. You awoke to the cries of a young woman, a voice so familiar. The sound of her howls made you sick to your stomach. Utterly perturbed, your stomach twisted and turned as you heard her pleas. You kneeled on the cold pavement, hot tears seeping from your tired eyes. Your skin was battered in all shades of purple and blue, scars trailing down your flesh all the way down your waist. Your stomach churned, for you haven’t had any sustenance for the past several days.

Your lips were split in two, and your neck was covered in scratches and fingerprints. Your limbs were sore, your throat was hoarse. Dried blood was splattered along the stone tiles beneath you, a scourge dangling several feet from your direction. It mocked you from afar, grimacing as you recalled the sensation of the scourge piercing into your flesh. The sting that’d linger on your skin after a blade dances upon your skin. Or his nails that’d scrape against your fresh wounds. You were cursed to relive it countless times, repeatedly and eternally.

Until one night, you met with silence. You haven’t heard of the magistrate’s son, Nathaniel, for several days. Your heart began to patter in your ears the moment you heard footsteps coming your way. You espied the silhouette beneath the door before you, your eyes fixed on the light emitting from the cracks as it creaked open. You scrambled to the corner of the chamber, your shackles scraping alongside the stone pavement. The dim flames illuminated a young man’s face upon removing his mask, a face akin to your tormentor. Your hands trembled within your manacles as you shrieked. “Please! Leave me!”

He reached out a hand, to which you flinched in response. A sullen look on his face as he murmured. “Y/N… It’s me.” The young man removed his cloak, allowing it to fall at his feet. He bore a key, proceeding to remove your chains. They fell to the floor with a clank, a finger gently caressing the bruises on your wrists. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you sooner…”

You swallowed, perplexed you were as you stared at him doe-eyed. You couldn’t bring yourself to utter a single word, you averted your gaze from his and snatched your hands from his touch. He furrowed his brows and elicited a sigh, for you couldn’t bear to face him. Your heart silenced as he placed on his mask, offering his hand once more. With a wavering hand, you reluctantly placed yours upon his.

Enveloped in woolen blankets by a fireplace, this felt all too familiar. You gazed into the flames waltzing before you, the masked man spoke a name you didn’t quite recall. “Ithaqua.” He spoke, enunciating each syllable as he dragged a warm cloth over your torn lips. “You’re safe now… The two of you… are safe.” Ithaqua whispered, his voice faltering. He fought against tears beneath his featureless mask which shielded his face from yours at your own expense.

He recalled your shrieks of horror, how you��d physically recoil upon seeing his face. His mother couldn't even speak his given name, and she would wince at the slightest brush of his fingertips against her own. He’d encourage you to eat, yet you didn’t budge. You’d witness as he’d breakdown at the table, running his hands through his platinum locks with desperation. You could hear him sniffling underneath his mask, how his voice would waver each time he spoke. Ithaqua would reassure the two of you of your safety and well-being, albeit you couldn’t help but blench at his touch.

He’d tend to your wounds, your cuts, and your scrapes. A soft cloth brushed against your skin, a stinging sensation that caused you to yelp. Despite how mild his touch was, you’d find yourself shoving him away. You’d strike him, knocking his mask straight to the ground. You’d stare at him wide-eyed as your heart raced in distress. “Don’t touch me!” Ithaqua looked at you with a frown, his eyes glistening with tears that threatened to descend. “I’m… sorry.”

At dusk, you’d hear him muttering under his breath. His platinum hair draped over his mask, slender fingers running through his mother’s curls whilst she dozed by the fire. He sang a melody oh so familiar as you sat across him, the warmth deriving from the fireplace kissing your icy skin tenderly. “Rest, mother, I’ll watch the night.” He, himself, couldn’t bear to look at you as he sang. A feeling in his chest tugged at his heartstrings like a lyre.

When you succumbed to the land of Nod by the flames, Ithaqua enwrapped you in bundles of blankets. Ensuring that the cold wouldn’t disturb your rest. He’d leisurely remove his mask with a sigh, setting it aside. Placing a hand above yours, he reminisced the moments you two shared. The moments you’d beam from ear to ear and call out his name with bliss. Your cheeks tinted with a shade of baneberry whilst you chortled like a goober when you’d pitch a snowball toward his direction.

Yet you couldn't bring yourself to speak his name. Nor could you identify him as Ithaqua. For all you witnessed standing before you was the man who tormented you, who brought you misery and anguish. Engraved into your mind, was the man cloaked in red with a fiendish grin. Nathaniel Norwell.

When it felt like your world was collapsing before you, moments where you’d cry in hysteria out of pure dread, Ithaqua took your hands into his. Your e/c eyes darted from place to place, you took in sharp exhales as you wept. The masked man would encourage you to breathe in a voice ever so benign. “You’re here now… You’re okay…” He cooed. “Do you remember the snow, Y/N? You enjoyed making snowmen. Occasionally, you’d catch me off-guard when we’d go herb gathering and…”

His cerulean eyes met yours, yours that resembled icicles at the emergence of spring. “You… were my dearest friend. My first and foremost… Do you not remember, Y/N?” He faltered. You were utterly nonplussed, staring at the man before you with rheumy eyes. Ithaqua hung his head low, you observed the boy as he crumbled. He choked out a sob, his icy hands trembling within yours. “I’m sorry… Mother… I’m sorry… Y/N.”

Alas, the roaring wind’s cries fell to deaf ears. At twilight, the harsh winds grazed upon his tear-stained cheeks. Snowflakes licked at his loose locks, his fur cloak whirling within the gale. Hefting a distinctively large ice axe, he gazed into the raging blizzard before him. Fueled by resentment and ire, igniting straight within his core, he scorned the lunatics who dared set foot in these glacial woods. Brushing away the stray tears from his pale cheeks, a faint glimpse of light radiated upon his flushed face. Without a single word, he placed on his mask and descended into the snowy tempest.

At dawn, he’d return with his clothes stained with crimson. He kept vigil throughout the hours of darkness, underneath the clouded stars. You awoke to the clanking of his stilts against the wooden floorboards, he’d set his bloodstained axe aside and allowed the hood of his fur cloak to fall. His silver waves were ruffled, and the dim lights radiating from the flickering lanterns illuminated his weary face. You peered through half-lidded eyes, his icy hands tenderly caressing your cheek. You froze under his touch, bewildered by his actions. He spoke in a tone laced with care, a tone you weren’t quite familiar with.

“Rest, Y/N. I’ll take care of you and mother.”

Your eyes fluttered shut, his fingertips like cotton against your warm cheek. With a faint smile, he extinguished the lantern’s flame. You fell into slumber once more, hoping to someday awake from this nightmare. The young man couldn’t bear to witness his loved ones deteriorate before him. He kept the slightest lick of hope in his heart that perhaps, he’d hear his name once again. Even if that day were to never arrive, at least he has the two of you by his side.

#identity v #ithaqua #idv night watch #identity 5 #identity v night watch #identityv ithaqua #idv fanfic #identityv ithaqua x reader #x reader #idv x reader #identityv x reader #identityv night watch #fanfic #gender neutral insert #gender neutral reader #gender neutral fanfic #reader is gender neutral #angst #identity v ithaqua #ithaqua x reader #idv ithaqua

[lemonlamblaura]

My Husband is the God of Pestilence - chapter 4

More sickeningly sweet stuff. Hints of a future antagonist. Shamura gets mad.

Shamura listened to their brother with grave seriousness. A suddenly changing biome was never a good sign, even when done deliberately. Entire lives and potential followers could be lost, as well as places to grow crops, and lesser animals with less self-awareness could flee, leaving less meat to eat. They could not stand idly by while this change took place. Unfortunately, Shamura had a good guess at what was causing everything.

"I had thought Anchordeep was close enough to shore..." They said more to themself than to Kallamar.

"What does this mean, sibling?" Kallamar demanded anxiously. "Why is this happening? Why is the water turning cold?"

Shamura thought carefully about how they should continue the conversation. They couldn't allow Kallamar to panic and lose control. He was already having enough trouble running his cult. Better they handle this themself. Hopefully, the other god would listen...

"Have no fear, brother. I will handle this," they said comfortingly, watching Kallamar sigh in relief and mop his sweating brow. "For now, focus on your followers. I'm sure this can be easily remedied."

"Thank you, Shamura," Kallamar said greatfully. "I feel so much better knowing I have you to help me."

Kallamar started to leave through the floor before Shamura stopped him. "Speaking of followers, what of your lamb? You've not mentioned her in some time."

"Um," Kallamar was surprised they asked. "She's... interesting. Very... chatty."

The spider nodded sagely, but said nothing. Guess we're done here, Kallamar thought to himself, sinking through the floor.

*

"I'm sorry to bother you, Lord Kallamar, but the kitchen made me bring you -" Lilybell stopped and gasped delightedly, the piece of paper in her hands falling to the ground and immediately forgotten as she raced over to Kallamar's desk. She was tall enough to see over it if she stood on her tiptoes and managed to pull herself up a little more by hanging onto the side of the desk. "Are those crystals?!"

Kallamar stared at her in surprise at her sudden outburst before collecting himself and blinking down at her. "Yes," he said, picking up a violet gem and looking at it through a spectroscope. "Haven't you seen them around the temple?"

Lilybell bounced on her toes, trying to get a better look at the crystals. "Yes, but I've never seen them up close! Can I see one, please? I promise to be very careful with it!"

He wasn't worried. She wouldn't be able to break any of them unless she was really trying to. Still, he looked among a few of the crystals he had already examined and found one he wouldn't mind losing, handing it to her gently. "This one is called a ruby."

Lilybell took the ruby gently in her hands, her eyes enormous. It was already cut and polished, shining in the light from the window, with a bright red colour like the poppies that used to grow near the mountains. "It's so beautiful," she breathed, not able to tear her eyes away from it. "When I was a little girl, there was an old lady from my village who had a tiny necklace with a white crystal in it. I was always so jealous, I would dream of wearing it and pretend I was a princess. But it was nowhere near as pretty as this."

Kallamar cocked his head at her, trying to imagine her as a princess. Granted, he'd never actually seen a princess in real life, so instead he ended up imagining Lilybell in a fancy dress and covered in sparkling jewelry. He had to admit it was a cute image. He leaned over and wrapped a hand around her (she let out a surprised squeak, to his amusement) and lifted her onto the desk, placing her among the other crystals. Confused at first, she realized she was surrounded by the pretty stones and excitedly began to examine them, turning them over and picking up the smaller ones.

"Crystals like these grow all over Anchordeep," he said, watching as Lilybell held a crystal up to her face to look through it. "I enjoy collecting them. I would like to study them, so I told my missionaries to bring back any they found in their travels."

Lilybell gasped suddenly. "Ooh, Lord Kallamar, wouldn't it be amazing if we could grow crystals like we grow our crops? Then we could fill the palace with them and make all kinds of amazing things! Oh, can you imagine crystal windows? And when the sun hits them just right, bang! They fill the room with rainbows! Wouldn't that be exciting?"

"You have quite an imagination," he smiled, resting his chin on his hands, "and a taste for fine things. That is something that we share." He thought for a moment. "Perharps Shamura would know how to find crystals more easily. Unfortunately, they tend to grow in random places, so there is no sure-fire way to find them. But I like your idea. I will have to discuss this with them."

Lilybell beamed up at him, proud that the god had actually entertained her idea. "Do you have a favorite crystal, Lord Kallamar?"

He gazed down at the stones on the table. "It's not here, but I enjoy sapphires. They come in a variety of colours, but they're usually blue."

"I hope you find one someday," said Lilybell genuinely.

"Thank you, dear."

Kallamar blinked in surprise at his own voice. He had never in his life called another person 'dear'. For a moment he was embarrassed, before he realized Lilybell wasn't even paying attention. "Oh, I almost forgot! The kitchen sent me up to deliver a list of ingredients we'll need for this week. It's over there on the floor."

He saw the paper, but made no attempt to go get it, glaring at it instead. "Perfect. Another thing for me to worry about," he grumbled.

Lilybell looked up at him with a concerned look. "What's wrong, Lord Kallamar?"

Kallamar sighed, putting his face in one hand. "It's nothing. Please forget I said anything."

"You should get a hobby! That way you can relax when you don't have anything to do."

"I don't think there will be a chance of that anytime soon, but thank you for the suggestion." He leaned back in his chair, lacing his hands over his stomach. "What do you do when you try to relax?"

"I like to daydream." She laid down on her stomach in front of a large yellow crystal, looking into it.

"That has never come easily to me... I'm afraid I don't have much of an imagination-"

A knock at the door interrupted him and he jumped in surprise at the sudden noise. He sighed, straightening himself before allowed the person to enter. It was the hammerhead shark from the kitchen, nervously poking his head past the door. "I'm terribly sorry for the intrusion, Lord Kallamar- there you are!" He said to Lilybell in annoyance, coming into the room. "We were wondering what happened to you. Did you deliver our list, or did you get caught up talking our lord's ear off?" He turned to Kallamar with a fake look of apology, "I'm sorry if she wasted your time, Lord Kallamar. She's such a useless land dweller. She doesn't know what she's doing half the time-"

The shark's voice trailed off when he recognized the look Kallamar was giving him was not apathetic as usual, but cold anger like a scorned parent.

"The only one here who has wasted my time is you, and your sycophancy is not appreciated," he growled lowly, standing up from his chair, making his already towering form even more intimidating. "Not only that, you have interrupted our conversation. Begone, or you shall face punishment."

He was gone in the blink of an eye, mumbling pleas for forgiveness. He even forgot to close the door in his panic. Kallamar sat down, satisfied, and noticed Lilybell was staring up at him with a surprised expression. "What?"

She shook her head. "You shouldn't have done that, Lord Kallamar," she said quietly, "he didn't say anything that wasn't true. I'm really not as good at cooking as I thought I was."

"What do you want to do?" He asked, turning towards her.

"I... I don't know," she said honestly. She looked so miserable now, Kallamar was starting to feel a little sorry for her.

"First of all," he said seriously, "if anyone gives you any trouble, you are to alert me at once. Second," he reached over and placed a finger under her chin, lifting her head up so she would look at him, "you need not worry about working in the kitchen anymore. I will find another job for you."

That made her lighten up, and she held his finger with shining eyes. "Oh, Lord Kallamar, do you mean it? I don't have to be there anymore?"

"Not unless you want to," he smiled gently.

The pair continued their conversation and ended up talking all afternoon. Before they knew it, the sun was setting, and Lilybell's stomach let out a loud growl. She looked up at him bashfully. "I guess it's suppertime."

"You had better go before they eat everything," Kallamar said, cupping two hands together and letting her slip into them before lowering her to the ground. "Wait," he reached back to the table and picked up the ruby she had fawned over earlier, handing it to her. "Take this."

Lilybell gasped in delight, taking the large ruby in her hands and hugging it to her chest. She grinned up at him, blushing brightly, and Kallamar felt something stir in his chest that he realized he hadn't felt in a long time. "Thank you, Lord Kallamar. I will take good care of it."

"I know," he smiled. "And Lilybell, please know you are welcome to waste my time whenever you please."

*

A sickening crack echoed throughout the underwater cavern, making the spiderwebs dance. At the end of the cavern, in a large room suitable for intense battles, Shamura stood triumphant, with many more arms than usual and their large abdomen showing behind their cloak and hands replaced with deadly claws. They ground their foot into the head of an enormous shark twice their size, who was wrapped up in webbing and bleeding fiercely.

"You shall cease these childish behaviors, Carcharias," they hissed, pressing harder, the shark's head sinking deeper into the sand, "and return the ocean to its natural ways."

"Why not finish me?" The shark spat, glaring up at the spider with one eye. "It is your right."

"You have no idea how much pleasure it would give me to do so," Shamura said, "but my plans are not complete. You shall live this day. But I shall be back for you, you have my word."

#cult of the lamb #cotl kallamar #kallamar #cotl oc #canon x oc #oc x canon

[multifandominfj]

A New Beginning: A Supergirl 6x20 Re-Write

Chapter Fourteen: Let The Party Begin

“Okay everyone, they should be on their way.” Kelly announced. “Kara has no idea about any of this, and most of you she hasn’t seen since the wedding.”

“I gotta say, Lena sure knows how to throw a party.” Sara brings Ava a Martini while they wait.

“I loved your proposal, babe, but I’m even going to admit this has the makings of a Hallmark movie proposal. If that Hallmark movie were also based on fanfiction.” Ava commented.

“Those may be unrealistic…” Iris joins them at their table.

“But you have to admit, Kara and Lena are what those couples should be in the movies.” Sam finished Iris’s thought, practically the same thing.

On the far side of the room we’re Barry, Cat and Lois.

“Cat, I’m surprised with your busy schedule, you managed to make it tonight.” Lois brings over a Bourbon on the rocks for Cat.

“When my best reporter and Editor and Chief is getting engaged to the woman who single handedly helped jump start the re-brand of CatCo with her foundation’s feature piece on female run businesses, I made sure to make time.” Cat takes a long sip of her drink.

“Come on, Miss Grant.” Barry gave her a knowing look. Kara had told him many stories about how Cat genuinely cared, she just had her image to upkeep.

“Oh, sweet, innocent, slightly naïve Bartholomew. If I didn’t know any better, you were acting like an alternate universe version of that charming insect man in those comic books movies; who most definitely drank the blood of a vampire to look as good as he does, to get me to reveal how I’m really feeling...”

Lois was the human embodiment of the wide eyed emoji. She was dying to see how this would play out.

“That, my dear human battery charger, is between Kiera and I. But, if it will satisfy the very clear, and annoyingly eager newborn puppy energy radiating off you…I am…beyond happy for the both of them.” Cat chugged the rest of her Bourbon. “Excuse me, I’m going to go take advantage of the open bar.”

Stifling her laughter from not only the reveal of Barry’s full name, but Cat reading him to filth, Lois had a mischievous gleam in her eye. “Bartholomew? Oh, I’m never going to let that go.”

Over by the window in one of the more lounge areas, Nia and Esme were having some girls' time. “Here you go Esme, one Dream Girl.” Nia sets before her a tall glass of a lemon-lime soda, blueberry simple syrup and blue curaçao syrup with a blueberry garnish; the virgin mocktail of her actual drink.

“They gave you your own drink, Aunt Nia?” Esme stared at both in awe. “Have you had one before? I would be bragging about it all the time.” Picking up the drink, she took a big sip to savor.

“It is pretty cool, isn’t it?” Nia gleefully took a sip of her own cocktail as she waited for the verdict from Esme. “So, what do you think?”

“It is the best thing in National City, ever.” Esme giggled. “Do you think Aunt Kara is going to like the surprise?

“Not only do I think your Aunt Kara is going to like the party with all of us here, I think she’s going to like the way your Aunt Lena is going to ask her to marry her.” The plot twist: Lena had texted Nia that day that she had learned “Will you Marry Me?” in Kryptonian to surprise Kara. Just another layer to make the night memorable.

And closer to the doors were J’onn, Ruby, Kelly and Alex. “So Ruby, your mom told me that you managed to get an internship with Lena at her Foundation?” Kelly slides that into their conversation.

“I did!” Ruby loved telling people about her job for two reasons: she wanted to inspire others, and she wanted to make a difference in the world. “For my Business Administration class we had to write a paper on our favorite CEO, and…I actually chose Aunt Lena. I actually brought that as her engagement party present. And, for Aunt Kara I got her a cookbook that has all different kinds of potsticker recipes.”

“I think she just put everyone here to shame when it comes to gifts.” Alex jokingly nudged her shoulder. “But seriously, those are some of the best ideas I’ve heard, and I know they’re going to love them.”

“And I think I speak for everyone not only at this table, but everyone here in general, that this party is the culmination of a long and winding history that has ended with hardly any stress.” Nobody said it, but J’onn had definitely jinxed it.

“Attention everyone!” Brainy had come in from outside, watching for Kara and Lena. “Kara and Lena have landed a block away and there is a 96.4% chance they will see the rest of you if you don’t get to the designated hidden area behind the wall.”

“I guess that's our cue.” Iris starts to lead everybody in that direction.

“That means we better hide too. Kara doesn’t even know we’re here.” Kelly picked up Esme as the immediate family went to a different designated area.

“I think Aunt Kara is going to be speechless, which is a first since she likes to talk a lot.” Esme jokingly burned her family, another Danvers thing she picked up rather quickly.

“I think you might be right, kiddo.” Alex gave Kelly a look as if to say, “She gets that from me, and I apologize in advance.” all while stifling a chuckle.

*Meanwhile outside the door*

“I still can’t believe you managed to get the whole restaurant…just for us.” Kara stared up at the iridescent neon sign above them, before meeting Lena’s gaze once more. “I know I say this all the time, but you’re incredible.”

“You’re worth it, Kara. Always have been.” And as she opened the door, and they both stepped inside in unison…

“SURPRISE!!!!!”

“Oh my god!” Kara’s identifiable cackling through her shock was her sign that she definitely loved the surprise. “How did you get everyone here?” Everyone filed over to give Kara a hug.

“Well, it’s not every day one of your friends decides to not only reveal their identity, but get an entire spread in a magazine as well? We had to come.” Sara’s signature dimples accompanied her to give Kara a hug. “Might I add, those photos…I may be married, but I stand by what I said when we first met.” They both then exchanged a knowing grin.

“Now that everyone is here, I think we can get this party started.” Alex declared throughout the entire room.

“Alex is right.” Kara was already at the center of the dance floor. “Brainy, please tell me you have a good playlist on that computer of yours.”

“Fear not, for I have several that are a 100% chance to have everyone getting down at the gig, as they would say on this Drag Race.”

Nia nods with approval at the use of vocab.

With the push of a button, everyone was immediately having fun. All inhibitions were gone, and the guests were being absolutely ridiculous in the best possible way.

“So what time do you plan on popping the question?” Cat pulled Lena aside before they joined in the fun.

“Before dessert.” Lena quickly answered, having thought to herself she’d hesitate.

“As much as that sounds like something out of an Indie Rom Com, that’s perfect. Especially for Kiera. Cat cracked a rare, unforced smile. And in front of Lena.

“Thank you, Miss Grant.” Lena hung back a bit, just to watch the love of her life, be the absolute goofball she fell for in the first place. And within the next few hours of everyone eating, drinking and dancing the night away, they would all be present for a declaration of love for the ages.

Here is Chapter 14, guys! Sorry I didn’t post it yesterday, I ended up getting busy. Anyways, hope you enjoy. 🤗

#supergirl #supercorp #supercorp endgame #supergirl cw #katie mcgrath #lena luthor #kara danvers #melissa benoist #fanfic #fanfiction #my otp #i miss them #they own my heart #future writers in the writers room #author in the making #queer writers #all of the fluff and cuteness before the angst #i love proposals

[masterqwertster]

New AU idea:

Ruby Hells AU

Most of Bells Hells are defectors/escapees/double-agents of the Ruby Vanguard, and they're trying to keep it a secret from the others that (they think) don't know.

Imogen

Liliana came back for Imogen after her powers manifested

This results in Imogen kind of being grandfathered into the upper echelons of the Ruby Vanguard

Given how close she came to switching sides to be with her mom in canon, Imogen is a "true" believer, even though like her mom, she doesn't really know what she's believing in

Laudna

Look, Laudna fits the conversion victim of the Ruby Vanguard: pushed to the fringe of society under religious persecution (aka: down with the undead)

The moment Delilah gets wind that this is her old colleague, Ludinus Da'leth's show, she's pushing Laudna to climb the ladder and find out what that elvish bitch is up to (and how she can make use of it)

Not a true believer, just taking advantage of the "safety" and resources

Ashton

The Ruby Vanguard decided to take a closer look at the attempted (and slightly successful) theft of their Potions of Possibility, tracking down through Treshi and Hexum to Ashton

Ashton doesn't have the info they want on who hired him, but they are a wholly unique application of dunamancy. So the RV buys out Ashton's debt to Hexum, taking him as a research subject

FCG

Dancer crossed Paragon's Call and either got killed by them and they take FCG while they loot her stuff, or Dancer lives and FCG is taken as a pay-off

As an aeormaton, FCG is of interest to research/Ludinus, so they end up as a research subject

Fearne

Wandered too far from Nana Morri's territory, ended up caught by the Unseelie Court

They were going to kill her because Calloway, but someone had the "smart" idea to make her an assassin to kill her parents and take back the Moontide Crown

There was probably some negotiation with Morri before the Unseelie got away with it. Which works in that Morri did promise to keep Fearne alive and safe, not that Fearne couldn't be turned against her parents

Orym

I can't really see Orym signing up without being fundamentally changed, so he remains the same

Still unwittingly hunting for the Ruby Vanguard for killing Will and Derrig

But also unwittingly bringing around some of the "believers" to defect through kindness and the example of the tragedy the RV causes

Chetney

Completely uninvolved, the one true neutral person in the party

He ends up gathering the pieces to see the whole picture of what a fucked up mess the Ruby Vanguard makes the party

Points/Events of Interest

Ashton and FCG meet as research subjects and form a strong bond there, imprinting into their sort-of lone-wolf-and-cub dynamic

Laudna is one of the researchers, riding in on the coattails of Delilah's knowledge. She's probably the gentlest of the researchers, so Ashton and FCG are most comfortable with her. She also really likes them in return because they are genuinely nice to her, and not tolerating her for "her" skill or the chance to research her as well

Eventually, Ashton convinces Laudna to help him and FCG make a jailbreak, get the hell out of this fucking cult. So they run

Imogen is assigned to follow the escapees, keep an eye on them. If they try to report the RV to people who could truly act against them, eliminate them. Otherwise, observe, see how they grow outside the lab environment

So Imogen follows and manages to worm her way into the group, doing her best to hide her Exaltant abilities and just look like a "normal" sorceress (and none of the others have met Imogen or Liliana before, so her looks aren't a giveaway)

The group ends up in Jrusar after a while because Ashton does still know the city and have connections, so it's as good a place to "hide" as any. The Krook House ends up a little fuller

Fearne and Orym meet up as in canon, except Fearne's search for her parents is to kill them, not just find them, which she doesn't hide. Orym (and the rest of the Crown Keepers) is disturbed by Fearne's desire for parenticide, but ditched for 100 years does provide some justification

Laudna and Imogen are not aware of Otohan's attack run on Zephrah, but they do recognize the description of the general and her abilities when Orym eventually explains the attack

#MQ AU machine #Ruby Hells AU #critical role #bells hells

[lecterthewhale]

Having work when the newest episode of Oshi No Ko comes out? Lame. Anyway, it’s later than my last few posts for this show, but I finally watched episode 5 and I love it!

This episode, in many ways, seemed to bring back a lot of that humor we saw and loved in the first episode that’s been largely missing in the past few episodes. Yes, we still have Aqua being obsessive about getting revenge and everyone still misses Ai(though, to be fair, I don’t know if it’s possible not to miss Ai), but that wasn’t the main focus.

In the past few episodes, the main comedic parts have come from Kana(assuming Aqua’s gay, following Aqua home, freaking out when she found out that Aqua wasn’t in the celebrity department, fighting with Ruby), and this episode continued that!

Considering how the previous episode ended, we all knew that Kana was going to feature decently heavily in this episode, but man I did not expect her going joining Ruby to go down in quite the way it did here! I mean, first of all Ruby and Alana constantly fight! I can’t wait to see these two continue to get closer because it’s honestly hilarious seeing the two of them go at each other yet also work together. On top of that, Aqua begging her to join? Hilarious, but also man did Aqua do Kana dirty! I love him so much! 😂

Okay, and then Ruby? She’s still so sweet and innocent, but now she’s finally starting to become an idol! Oh, and the way she wants to be honest and not have any lies? Man is she so sweet and naive! That being said, the fact that Ai was an expert lier and Ruby plans to be an idol who doesn’t lie is an interesting juxtaposition and it will be interesting to compare the two as the series progresses—especially since you know that the one thing that Ruby will have to lie about is Ai.

I will say, though, that having her idol group named the same thing as her mother’s seems like a dumb move considering that’s something that she probably wants to keep a secret. Like, there’s no way people aren’t gonna sit down and compare the new B-Komachi to the old one, so there’s bound to be a decent number of people who might notice the similarities between Ai and Ruby. Hopefully Ruby won’t end up regretting any of this!

As for my boy, Aqua, man I am laughing! I mean, we all saw the dating show coming(our obsessive little boy is willing to throw away his dignity for his revenge anytime!), but man, the fact that our lovable little sulky boy hates it all so much and yet is acting his literal heart out pretending to be happy about all of it is sending me! 🤣🤣🤣

As much as I love Aqua, I will say that the part where Aqua was talking about his love for Ai was a bit weird/uncomfy since it was framed in a romantic way yet she’s his mother and all that. It’s the thing that made me hesitate in the first episode, but Aqua has somehow managed to be respectful towards Ai despite being her fan, you know? Like, refusing breast feeding, not being overly cuddly, supporting Ai with her pregnancy, things like that. To me, all of it made what would otherwise be awkward and uncomfortable humorous and acceptable. This conversation brought up all those things, but Aqua said it wasn’t a romantic love, so I just hope that’s solidified a bit more as it gets brought up.

Anyway, I can’t wait to see how all this goes down—who will join Kana and Ruby’s Idol Group, how the dating show will go down, what’s up with the girls in the dating show(because I’m calling it now: all of them are sketchy!), and what will happen next! I really can’t predict much for what will happen in this show and it makes me so excited and curious about what’s going to happen next!

#anime #oshi no ko #anime spoilers #anime spring 2023 #hoshino aquamarine #oshi no ko anime #oshi no ko aqua #onk anime #onk aqua #onk ruby #oshi no ko spoilers #oshi no ko ruby #Oshi no Ko episode 5 #oshi no ko kana #aqua hoshino #hoshino ruby #ruby hoshino #arima kana #kana arima

[codenamesailordarillium]

Im too shy to comment rn but I noticed your post on River calling herself a psychopath (you do great commentary btw) I gotta point out in Time of the Doctor~

Tasha: “They engineered a psychopath to kill you.”

Doctor: “Totally married her. I’d never have made it here alive without River Song.”

Oh hello! No problem about not commenting, that's what anon is for. ^_^

I'd completely forgotten that scene, it's literally been like a decade since I watched that episode. You are correct, Tasha does indeed describe River as a psychopath in TTotD. I guess the distinction I was making there is it's not something I can remember anyone calling River to her face. And in context Tasha brings it up rather casually in conversation, she doesn't seem to say it with any real assertion that River is actually some emotionless psychopath. Given 11's response, more than anything else it's meant to showcase the wonderful irony of River being bred to murder him and the way they both completely turned that on its head.

I don't doubt that it's likely Kovarian may have told her and reinforced that idea that she was and had to be cold & unfeeling to fulfill her purpose as an assassin. I also have the massive backlog of TDoRS audios to catch up with as well as my copy of The Ruby's Curse, so I'd have to make note whether anyone else says that about her in any of those contexts.

For the most part tho, as fitting River's backstory I think it's the type of thing she says to protect herself. The monsters can't hurt her if she herself is the biggest, baddest monster of them all (honestly a vibe). Hide the damage and all that, can't let the universe's bad guys catch a whiff of the vulnerabilities she keeps so close to the chest.

Thanks for sending me this, when I pose open-ended questions like this I do genuinely welcome responses. I appreciate any opportunity to gush about River in depth like this. Thanks for saying I do decent commentary, though it's often a result of me just being silly & tryna keep myself entertained (also my way of interacting with the text because I can't manage fic writing at this point in time). 😊

#anonymous

[starres-stuff]

FFXIV Writes 2023 | Day 15 | Portentous

Another outing with his Half-Sister leaves Dimitri feeling attacked by the words she uses and the questions she asks.

Portentous

Adjective /pôrˈten(t)əs/. If someone's way of speaking, writing, or behaving is portentous, they speak, write, or behave more seriously than necessary because they want to impress other people

“There is one thing I have always wondered about the Sharlayan.” It was another day that he had found himself with his Half-Sister, this time they were in Limsa browsing an imported spices rack in the Culinarian store run by the Culinarian Guild, that she happened to be a card-carrying member of. 

“What’s that?” Dimitri tried to be polite when she asked her questions, but some of them tended to needle at him a bit, especially if she was in one of her moods where everything sounded like she was being critical of any way of life that wasn’t Ishgardian or Gridanian in nature, and especially if it was his way of life. 

“Why is it that everything the lot of you says sounds so overly portentous? It makes conversation with you unbearable at times.” Viviane looked over the top of her glasses, offering him one of her most smug smiles, she even stopped to flutter her ruby lashes in a manner that seemed to beseech him not to be angry with her, she was in possession of a deeply curious nature. This did result in Dimitri clenching his jaw, if he could say one thing about dear, sweet Vi she could piss him off in a matter of moments and this one brought him quite close to where he could not control his anger. 

“Have you bothered to listen to your sister?” he finally managed to get out but only after he started to busy himself with things in the store like cooking books! It kept him calm enough, but anything book-related often kept him from losing his good sense especially when they were out in public as they were now. “You sound as if your nose is so high in the air that you are inhaling the clouds and then trying to speak. No, I don’t mean airhead, I mean rather full of yourself.” 

A merry little laugh left her lips, and she pushed those glasses of hers right back up on her nose where they belonged. “I know what I sound like dear Brother.” 

Dimitri couldn’t help but gawk at her, she had resisted one of his best put-downs (or so he thought) and remained perfectly chipper. This resulted in the Sharlayan blinking his eyes at her, she had certainly caught him off guard this time and he hated every moment of it. Could it be true? That the Ishgardians were just that masochistic that words bounced off their backs, or was it necks? He swore her neck was longer than his since they met and it looked so even now. 

“I am not portentous, I just happen to prefer the proper use of common language.” The Duskwight heard himself sniffing his nose, and the way his accent hung on the last syllable of the word language made him cringe, hopefully not visibly enough that she noticed it or that would be used against him as well. 

“You are! And you just heard yourself as well. I saw that cringe, poor dear not used to people not blowing sunshine up his arse, now are you.” To her, this was the most amusing conversation the two of them had ever had since most of the time it turned into a debate where the two of them would be horns locked and head to head until someone came along to tell them to shut up. She did enjoy outings with her Brother, by far her second favorite sibling, with Qiha taking first place out of the sheer tom foolery that existed around the Viera. 

At this point Dimitri found himself flashing the smaller Elezen a cheshire smile and he lifted a hand and folded down most of his fingers; bringing in his thumb as well which left him with his middle finger straight up and positioned right towards Vi. Who burst out laughing immediately. Dimitri gawked at her again, as she continued pursuing the spices that had come in on the boats from Thavnair this morning, the whole damnable reason she woke him up to begin with, and even as she rounded the corner to check the next of the make-shift aisles she continued to laugh. 

“Does nothing hurt your feelings Viviane?” He found himself asking as he finally caught up with her, for someone as short as she was she could walk faster than he could, and she did not slow down even when she was asked to. Often he believed that she had a schedule in her head that allowed her only so much time to do everything on it, and there was absolutely nothing that could deter her from that precise measure of time that she needed. 

“That depends.” She replied, stuffing cloves, cinnamon, and cardamom into the little shopping tote she carried. “I am rather sensitive to being rejected especially when it comes to my music. My heart goes into what I sing, the words I write for my songs, and even the choreography that I put to the music can hurt my feelings. If you mean simple things like being told I am an arse or given the finger by my Brother, then no. You have to pick the things that will bother you in life Dimitri or you will be mad about everything eventually. I was almost there myself.” 

Reaching up he dragged a hand through his hair and then found himself shoving his hands into his pockets, to sulk after her. As much as he hated to admit it he wanted to hear more of what she had to say. She was a smart woman, and in ways he was not. She had what some called street smarts whereas he was all book learning which often caused the two to clash in their fiery blow-outs. 

“Not everything upsets me.” He huffed as she stopped again, this time it was baking supplies and from the look of what she shoved in the tote she was planning on some form of a cookie, this thought made his stomach rumble, Vi made the best cookies. He had tried more than a few types in both of his visits to Eorzea, in fact, he was already hoping he would get a nice tin this time to share with Laurent along with a cup of coffee. His ears seemed to perk up at the prospect. 

“Just most things?” Her eyes were on him again and this time she offered him a soft but sisterly smile. “You get that from Mother I fear, she believed everything was a chore and that everyone hated her. When in truth it was really just her making it impossible for people to get close to her. I am not saying you are exactly like her of course, but there have been some arguments at the Scholasticate that we take after our parents in one way or another. I take more after my Father. He never seemed to let anything bother him from the memories I have of him. It isn’t always the best way to be of course, because then I never talk about the things that do hurt me. I just let them sit. Mother used to tell me it was because I was cold-hearted and did not care. It is quite the opposite really, and it got me nowhere worth my time.” 

In this case, Dimitri found that Vi did make a lot of sense, words were words and there were a lot of them especially when there were so many different languages to choose from depending on where on the Star you were at the time. He had always been sensitive to words, but then he had been made fun of all through his early years of education and he had spent most of his life proving he was worthy to be called a Sharlayan because he was an outsider. 

“I guess we do sound portentous most of the time.” the words slipped out with ease, and he even offered her a small smile as it did. “Old Sharlyan is a very serious place overall when I think of it.” He then stepped beside her selecting a few items of his own from the shelves as he realized that Limsa also would have things from his home that were common staples. “Most people who would visit the island would believe that we had no sense of humor, but it is there. It is merely offset by how stern we sound when we speak.” 

Up she looked, and her face warmed even further. “Ishgardians are sarcastic, we strike first with it and then when we have our foot in the door we follow up with dry humor. I imagine that it can sound quite harsh to someone who is not used to it, or even to someone who was treated poorly in their life. I do promise I mean nothing by it, I am more likely to scream and cry in one breath if I am truly being a bitch. I was merely curious why every Sharlayan I have met since the Island opened more and your people began traveling sounded as if they had no emotion to them. It is rather disconcerting.” 

Up to the counter she moved, and Dimitri moved right behind her, his tote stuffed with imported goodies from Sharlayan that he was excited to take home to his love to try. He had even been a bit of a smartass and collected Archon Loaf just to see the reaction he would get. 

“I know Vi.” He said as he stood in line behind her, waiting for the students who ran the makeshift shop to motion him forward. “It just hit me the wrong way but that is not your fault, it is mine for being over-sensitive. Speaking of which if you like, I could help you with those feelings of rejection you get. I did study such things when I was at the Studium. I could have walked that path instead of the one I chose.” 

“We shall see.” a soft hum came from her then as she was motioned forward, and she began to empty her things onto the tote for the helper to ring into the little register they used to keep track of sales. 

#ffxivwrite2023 #ffxiv rp #ffxiv roleplay #my ocs #my writing #Jienuex Family Stories #Dimitri and Viviane stories

[songsandremembrances]

Episode 3

There a lots of "national" Russian songs, folk songs handed down through generations. One such song, another childhood favorite of mine is "Kalinka," or "Snow Ball Berry." And while "snowball berry" doesn't exactly roll off the tongue, "kalinka" makes for a fun song lyric, especially since it rhymes so nicely with "malinka," another word for "rasbperry." There's even a special dance associated with the song.

Vocal (if rather militaristic) version: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m8m2BYv02Nw

Dance version: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VmlX0xGub6k

For all the time I spent in the city of Leningrad as a child, I also spent a good amount of time in the country. My great-grandparents, my mother's grandparents, had a house and a bit of land in a rural area on the outskirts of the city. The reasons for their being property owners in the Soviet Union, a country that took away all property following the 1917 revolution, were never very clear to me. I had been told at one point that my great-grandfather had served in or maybe collaborated with the Bolsheviks, and the house and land had been awarded to him for his service. That didn't make much sense, considering the Bolsheviks' well-known hatred of Jews, but it was all the explanation I got.

In any case, I remember visiting my great-grandparents a number of times, always in the summer. The house seemed very big to me, but I was fairly small, so my perspective may have been off. I don't remember much about the contents of the house. I do remember both of my great-grandparents!

My great-grandmother was thin and straight as a pole! Her dresses, plain and always dark, were immaculate and perfectly pressed. How she managed this, when her days were spent cooking, cleaning, and working in the small garden, remains a mystery. Her hair was a wonder to me. She wore it up, wrapped in braids around the top of her head, like a crown. I never saw it down, so I have no idea how long it was, but it had to have reached her waist for her to be able to braid it and make such a crown of it. I was very, very envious of that crown! My hair was always cut short, and I dreamed of letting it grow and one day having a braid crown of my own.

Occasionally, my great-grandmother would take me out into the garden to "help" her. We dug potatoes out of the dirt to be fried for dinner! We picked red and black currants off the bushes to be made preserves! We took fresh raspberries off their branches, and I stuffed myself full of the sweet, plump fruit! It seemed to me that the tiny plot of land owned by these two old people offered more goodness than any grocery store in Leningrad. I was probably not wrong.

My great-grandfather preferred to spend his time indoors, except for the few minutes it would take him to bring in a chicken for dinner. One day, I tagged along to the chicken coop with him. Big mistake! I watched in mute horror, as he grabbed a hen, placed its head and neck on a stump, and chopped off the head with one sure, swift swing of an axe I hadn't even known he was carrying. The chicken actually ran a few steps without its head, making the expression "running around like a chicken with its head cut off" a visual one for me for years to come.

When my great-grandfather spent time with me, it was usually occupied having "surious" conversations (the Russian word for serious is very similar to the English one, but he always changed the the e sound to oo), showing me treasures and telling me fairy tales. The stories I already knew -- The Firebird, The Snow Queen, The Twelve Brothers -- it was the treasures that captured my heart. There were three rings, simple golden bands, each with a large colored stone set in the center. One was green, one red, and one blue. Great-grandfather insisted they were real emerald, ruby, and sapphire and promised that someday they would be mine. The chances of those rings being real gold with real gemstones were exactly zero! Had they been real, they would have been sold years before. But that never occurred to me.

I lived my childhood with the certainty that the treasure would someday be mine. My great-grandparents died about a year before my family emigrated. A couple of items from their house were left to my mom -- a velvet bed spread and a vase or two -- but those rings were forever gone.

#country #garden #great-grandparents #crown #treasure #kalinka #reading #memoir #russia #music

[spxllcxstxr]

Teaching a Moderately Old Dog New Tricks • S.B

(Gif not mine)

Request: could you do a older sirius x younger (tonks' age) reader, maybe he's in denial about liking her because he thinks he's too old but she doesn't think that way. — @msmb

Summary: The man you fancy has been avoiding you. Tonks gives you an idea.

Warnings: alcohol consumption, mention of cigarettes, kissing, older man/younger woman (but reader is Tonks’ age), light mention of remadora (does that need a warning?), Sirius is a bit self deprecating, heated make out, Moody’s all seeing eye

Word Count: 1.6k

A.N: Inspiration hit at 1am. Uhhh Kissing can either be well written or extremely cringe. I can’t tell what category my kissing is in, so possibly sorry in advance? OotP Sirius is so hot and I will love him forever. Hope you guys enjoy. Love you all❤️

****

“So how’re you and Sirius?” Tonks asks, her hair a violent shade of violet as she swings her legs over the arm of the couch at Grimmauld Place. She takes a sip of her daisyroot draught, excited for any news.

“I don’t know.” You respond, swirling your own goblet in your hand. “How’re you and Remus?”

You smirk as she almost chokes at the mention of the man of her dreams.

“I asked you first.” She shoots back after her coughing fit goes away.

“You’re annoying.” You take another sip.

“Cry about it.” Tonks huffs. “But don’t change the subject.”

“Merlin, I wish I had an answer for you.” Groaning, you run a hand through your hair. “He seems to be pulling away from me, yet again.”

“Ugh, men.” Tonks mimes a fake gag.

“I mean, he pulls me into a broom closet for a quick snog and now he won’t even stay in the same room as me!” You cry out.

The draught is sweet in your mouth as you down the rest of your goblet. “‘Ugh, men’ is right. I will never understand them.”

“At least you get a snog.” Tonks retorts. “Remus barely grazes my fingertips passing me a piece of parchment and suddenly he’s all pink and avoiding me for weeks.”

“Are they that daft, or are we just shit at flirting?” You pour yourself some more daisyroot draught.

The murky pink of the draught bubbles and sizzles near the top of the cup.

Grimmauld Place is mostly quiet, the kids were all asleep and someone paces in the room above. There’s faint laughing coming from the kitchen, but that could be one of the Black family portraits, so it’s no concern of yours.

“It can’t possibly be the latter because if I remember correctly, flirting was our specialty back in school.” Tonks winks from her stretched out position.

“Oh yeah.” You muse sarcastically. “All those people we managed to seduce at Hogwarts...”

“Hey! I snogged Penny Haywood seventh year!” She declares.

“It was a game of truth or dare! We all snogged Penny Haywood!” You exclaim, almost spilling your drink all over your robes.

“My point still stands.”

The house groans and creaks in your comfortable silence, Kreature’s dragging gait echoes through the corridor.

“Sirius has nice lips.” You sigh dreamily, your thoughts once again preoccupied by him. “Would love to snog him again.”

“You should.” Your friend replies. “At least one of us needs a proper love life.”

“But he won’t talk to me...” You childishly whine. Pouting, you drink from your goblet.

“Well maybe you should be the one that pulls him into the cupboard next time.” Tonks shrugs, waving her wand to fill her goblet once more.

“You’re brilliant, y’know that?” You perk up at her idea.

“I’ve been trying to tell you that since we were eleven, (Y/n). Can’t believe you’re just now admitting it.”

The night gets cut short after that, mostly because the two of you have work in the morning and the Ministry of Magic was already unbearable sober. Hungover at the office meant a lot more suffering than usual.

You’ve never been more thankful for Molly’s desire to put the gaggle of kids to work around the house.

Even when you get back from the Ministry the the next night, they’re all still galavanting with doxycide upstairs, letting the exhausted adults have a moment to relax.

That’s when you decide to strike.

There’s an extremely convenient and mostly empty broom closet on the ground floor close to the kitchen that is just ripe with opportunity.

Tonks gives you a thumbs up and shoots you a wink as she passes you and strides into the kitchen. You’re leaning against the doorframe, pretending to be preoccupied with checking your nails, but in reality, you’re watching and waiting for Sirius to come a little closer.

His black curls with the occasional strand of grey rest on his shoulders. His velvet burgundy blazer stands out against the dark wood and blue theme Grimmauld Place seems to really enjoy and embrace. You watch his gold pocket watch glimmer in the flickering orange candlelight and how he twists the rings on his fingers.

Your heart flutters at the mere sight of him.

He finally breaks away from his conversation with Remus before turning around and making his way towards you.

He struts closer, heels clicking against the floorboards and your hands jitter in excitement. You’ve never been one to initiate these types of things before.

“Alright, (Y/n)—“ Sirius starts, reluctantly nodding his head in greeting.

But since he’s within arm’s reach, you grab his soft lapels and pull him into the broom closet.

With a flick of your wand the door shuts and you’re plunged into even dimmer lighting.

Your hands are still tightly grasping at his lapels and you have to admit, you’re a little breathless as you fervently press your lips to his.

Your eyes flutter shut and you press your chest to his own, effectively pushing him harder against the wall. You moan, feeling him kiss back. He tastes distinctly of firewhiskey and cigarettes and you’re loving every second of it. His lips are addicting as they move in tandem to yours. Sirius’ hands trail up to the back of your skull, pulling you closer to him, something you enjoy and gleefully let happen. The closer to him you are, the better.

The heatedly deep kiss sends a thrill throughout your body. Here you are, snogging the man you’ve fancied since the day you met him, in a broom closet of headquarters. Instinctively, your heart skips a beat.

One of Sirius’ hands detaches itself from your hair and instead, trails its way down your body to rest on your lower back. A jolt of excitement sparks and flares up inside. Goosebumps erupt underneath his warm hand. He squeezes your body tighter, quickly taking control of the situation.

Unfortunately, air becomes something that you’re losing fairly quickly and when you reluctantly spilt apart, you’re extremely aware of his swollen red lips. They stand out between the dark hair of his beard.

You’re panting as you cling on to his blazer for stability. The moment your lips touched, your knees practically gave out.

“What was that for, poppet?” Sirius pants as well, grey eyes looking into yours.

“Merlin, Sirius, do I really have to spell it out for you?” You smirk, still breathless. “I fancy you.”

“You what?” His eyebrows dart up in surprise.

“I fancy you? Like I want to go out for a drink sometime. Or I guess, stay in for a drink since—“ You ramble.

“You can’t fancy me, (Y/n).” He interjects, hands slipping away from you.

You carefully remove your hands from his figure in return. “Oh.” Awkwardly, you stuff your hands into your pockets. “And why’s that, then?”

Anxiously, he begins to twist the ruby ring around his thumb. The broom closet feels a lot smaller than before and the burn of embarrassment feels even harsher.

“I think you know why.” Sirius evades the question.

Your brows knit together in both confusion and annoyance. “No, I really don’t know why, Sirius, so please enlighten me.”

“Godric, (Y/n)!” He cries out. “I’m an old ex-convict with a fuck ton of issues! You don’t want that kind of baggage!”

Sirius scowls, not at you, but at himself.

“You’re in your thirties, Sirius. If that’s old than Mad-Eye’s ancient.” You try your best to joke and make light of the situation.

However, you see that your attempt doesn’t work.

“Hey, I don’t care that you’re older than me. I like you because you’re this handsomely charming and charismatic guy that shares my issues with authority.” Hesitantly, you bring your hand up to his neck. He leans into your warm touch. “And I really like you.”

“I’d be more of a burden than a boyfriend.” He mutters.

“You’re no burden. Not to me.” You reply, stroking his beard. “Never to me.”

“I’m a bit rusty.” Sirius confides. “Haven’t had a partner since the seventies. And I’m not the same person I used to be.”

“Neither am I.” You shrug. “Mostly because back then I was a wriggling little lump.”

Sirius snorts.

“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” You question, tucking a few strands of stray hair behind your ear.

“I felt bad.” Sirius confesses, straightening out his blazer. “Felt like I was manipulating you by leading you on so I was trying to get you to hate me. Trying to convince myself to get over you.”

“I’m guessing you didn’t succeed in that endeavor?” You tease your bottom lip with your teeth, innocently looking at the man in front of you.

His grey eyes are kind and soft gazing into yours even after years and years of torture and misery.

He’s someone to admire.

“Getting over you is probably the hardest thing I’ve attempted.” Sirius laughs. “And I escaped Azkaban.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Sirius.” You muse, rubbing the back on your neck in embarrassment.

“Flattery will get me everywhere, poppet.” He winks in return, amused by your gesture.

“So can we give it a shot?” You ask, praying to Merlin he agrees.

“Sure poppet, why not?” He grins, his white teeth poking out from the intense red.

In a swift movement he has you flipped, your back now pressed to the wall as he passionately places his lips back on yours.

You hands tangle themselves in his wild hair, his sneaking around your waist. You tug at the locks and he hums in approval.

Suddenly there’s a large bang against the door causing it to shake on its hinges.

“Oi!” Tonks’ voice rings out.

Sadly, Sirius pulls away just enough to rest his forehead on your own. His breath hot on your face.

“Mad-Eye says that if any clothes come off he’s barging in there, so wrap it up!”

Your mutter out a curse as you attempt to untangle yourself from Sirius.

“Also (Y/n),” Tonks yells again. “knew you had it in ya.”

•

Sirius Black Taglist: @fific7 @quindolyn @msmb @lunalovecroft

All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20 @amourtentiaa @cherie-draco

#Sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black imagine #sirius black fluff #the marauders x reader

[sparklingchan]

Ruby Eyes|| Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)

Pairing : Reader(fem.) X Changbin

Word count : 7.3k+ 

Warnings : Mention of an accident, cuss words, divorce, a single kiss.

Genre : Romance, Soulmate AU, fluff, angst, best friends to lovers.

Description: Seo Changbin has done everything in his capacity to remove and replace you, yet fate seems to have different plans for the both of you.

A/N : Hello everyone ahhh I know it’s been so long y’all. So many things have been going on including exams and internships and I just didn’t have the patience to write :(( This one shot was written as a part of a collab event by wonderful, dear Ro! 

I hope y’all like it!

"So, how's it being back, y/n?"

Your dad looks older now than he did the last time you saw him - probably two years ago, when you were leaving the country.

You missed him, really. You missed his warmth and his wisdom and how he was a sharp contrast to your mother, more calm and composed. Sometimes you wonder how your mother had even managed to get your custody after their divorce.

"Okay, I guess." You lie.

You didn't want your father to know how your feelings are all over the place, ranging from sadness to anger and longingness.

It's a weird thing to be experiencing such a cocktail of emotions when you'd convinced yourself these feelings had disappeared the day you left the old neighborhood, seven years ago. You had not felt any attachment towards the new neighborhood that you and your mother then went on to live for the next two years before you moved abroad for your studies. Yet you feel nostalgic now, as your father drives you through your old old neighborhood.

"How's mom?" He asks, taking a left to a road all too familiar to you, "Is she still going to therapy?"

You nod, "She's getting better, I think. The new country seems to have changed her. The therapy is helping too. She has many friends there now. "

At first when you were offered a job at one of the biggest publishing companies in the world, you were ecstatic. But everything soon died down when you found out you were posted at a branch in the country you'd left behind. It was your mother who'd convinced you to take it.

"I know you don't like being back, y/n." Your dad smiles sadly when he pulls over infront of your old house.The house that contains years of secrets, tears, lies and whispered confessions in front of the mirror stands in front of you, as grand and pretty as ever. It looks different but similar enough to make you tear up a tad bit.

"But I'm glad you're here. I really am." He says, "I renovated the house a little when you told me you were moving back. I hope it's okay."

You smile at the old man, wrapping your arms around him, "Thanks, dad. I missed you. I'm glad you're here, too."

He pecks your forehead, "I missed you, too, love."

Moving in doesn't take a lot of time since your dad had already set up everything. You just had to get some of your stuff and you were ready to kick start your stay.

That evening, your father leaves after making you promise to call him if anything happens at all and when the front door closes, you find yourself in the company of your old room.

You lie on your bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling as you hum an old tune to yourself. And without meaning to, you find yourself thinking about him; The man you hadn't seen or talked to for a whole seven years. The man who'd tried his best to stay in touch with you yet gave up when you didn't reciprocate the same.

A horrific realization then dawns on you,

He'd obviously replaced you now.

The familiar clouds of grief loom over you, threatening to engulf you any moment now.

No. Not now, please.

Getting up from your bed immediately, you shake your head as you make your way to the mirror- the mirror that had encountered more honest tears and smiles and words than any human ever had. You stare at your reflection as tears escapes your eyes, the bright red iris of your right eye staring back at you when you rub your tears off.

You shiver.

"Shit, I forgot to wear the contacts."

Quickly grabbing your lenses from your bag, you put them on, concealing the scary blood red color of your right eye. You take two long strides across the room and pulling your favorite black hoodie over your head, you walk out of the door.

By the time you manage to leave the house, it's already 10:30 in the evening. A quiet calmness has fallen over the town, as the shops and restaurants near the market square slowly start closing up. Your feet are as if on autopilot, taking you to that one place you know would still be open; Yang's Café.

And rightly so, the smell of freshly brewed coffee reaches your nostrils when you walk through their main door, past the group of chatty teenagers waiting outside. This place hasn't changed much, you realize, the brown and golden hues of the place and the vintage coffee cups collection in the far corner of the Cafe are still the same. The only difference is that you're no longer here with your best friend right after school, you are here all alone on an evening too quiet for your liking.

"Y/n? Is that you?"

When you turn around to face the owner of the voice, you are stunned.

"Jeongin?"

Jeongin's family has owned this Cafe for three generations now, from his great-grandparents, his grandparents, his parents and soon enough it'll pass down to him. As a kid, you remember often playing with Jeongin at the park and teaming up with him during quiz competition. He was always sweet and always smiley.

But the handsome young man that stands in front of you doesn't resemble the Jeongin you once used to know, not even a little bit.

"What..what happened to you!" You exclaim, taking his face in your hands, "Where are the braces! And the specs and wow, would you look at the blue hair!"

Jeongin can only let out a few giggles as you continue squishing his face and complaining how big he's grown in only over seven years.

The customers give you weird stares but only the heavens above know how genuinely happy you are to see Jeongin, albeit the fact you almost couldn't recognize him there for a second.

"What have you done to my child?" You mutter when you've finally calmed down and Jeongin takes you to your seat.

"I have a mother, y/n, thank you very much," he laughs, taking a seat opposite to yours, loosening the Barista apron around his torso, "And I missed you too."

You attempt to pinch his cheeks but he is quick to dodge.

"So how have you been?" He asks through giggly breaths.

You sigh, "I'm good... I feel weird being back here, honestly but I think I'll get used to it soon. What about you?"

"I've been good. Graduated a few months back, now I'm working here full time." He ushers over a waiter, "What would you like, y/n?"

You don't even think for a second while responding, "An iced Americano, please."

The waiter notes your order and walks away before Jeongin pinches your arm teasingly.

"Ouch. What?"

"Old habits die hard, huh? You always used to drink an iced coffee whenever we hung out here. I am glad to see nothing much has changed," Jeongin laughs, "You and Changbin, too!"

That one name sends your entire mind into a frenzy. Changbin. Seo Changbin. The love of your life. The man who you wouldn't even go to school without, the man who had saved you from a terrible accident, also the man who probably no longer even remembers you.

And you realise, despite everything, your heart yearns for him, still- for you wouldn't be in so much pain at the mention of his name otherwise.

Jeongin seems to have noticed your discomfort because he immediately changes the topic, "Anyway, you have to try our new chocolate cake. It's heavenly, I'm telling you."

Your reason to leave the neighborhood wasn't a secret, really. It was public knowledge that your mother had blamed Changbin for the fatal accident you almost had.

You're grateful for what Jeongin does, and try your best to engage in conversations about the neighborhood and old gossip you'd missed out on. Yet all you want to do is drive out of the damn Cafe and find changbin.

"Y/n?"

Or maybe, Changbin will find you.

Behind Jeongin, you see the blurry image of a man that had once caused you great misery yet you had never felt as happy as when you were with him.

"Hi..hi, Changbin." You stammer as you see the said man walk towards your table.

The seven years have as if done some magic on him, because the Changbin that walks towards you in no way resembles your high school best friend.

With thick buff arms, new ear piercings and silver jewelry gracing his wrists and fingers, you have a hard time actually accepting the fact that Seo Changbin is really there, in front of you.

"Been long, huh?" He grins, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes and somewhere in the depths of your conscience, you realize it might have been your fault. You'd done everything in your capacity to break apart from this friendship, ignoring his calls, changing your number, even going as far as blocking him on all social media.

So, did you really expect him to welcome you back with open arms when you had caused him so much pain?

Jeongin brings an extra chair for Changbin to sit on and soon, the three of you are talking, maybe not like the old, happy days but it's still better than nothing. Changbin looks at you everytime you throw your head back and laugh, your eyes squeezing shut as his heart clenches in his chest.

You are really back home.

"So what have you been doing? I told you guys about me." Jeongin says, stealing a bite off of Changbin's cheesecake.

"Oh..you know," Changbin giggles, the tip of his ears turning a light pink shade.

You raise your eye brows in confusion.

"Been busy with the wedding and all."

Your heart drops. "Wedding? W-whose wedding?" You try to laugh it off but it's very evident from the way you're gripping your glass of iced Americano that it has affected you. A lot more than you actually thought.

"I'm getting married, y/n," Changbin smiles, "I'm so glad you could be around for the wedding."

*

Your grief stricken self has not gotten up from the bed since last night and you're thankful to Jeongin for finally checking up on you or else you would have gone deeper into the spiral hole of despair.

"Are you really going to be like this, y/n?"

You hate being miserable on the very second day of your stay. You hate depending on Jeongin. But you can barely move without bursting out into tears,so it seems as though there's no better idea than have someone take care of you at the moment.

"I'm sorry, Jeongin. " You manage to speak when he places a bag full of snacks and drinks on the dining table, "And thanks."

Jeongin chuckles, "Don't thank me, just yet. Guess who wants to meet up with you?"

Your eyes widen for a split second as you sit up on the couch, "Who?!"

No, he wouldn't, would he?

"It's not the person you think, y/n. Calm down." He laughs, "It's Bang Chan. Your senior, you remember?"

Oh, yes, the infamous Bang Chan. Shy smiles, dimples, curly hair, angelic eyes. Yeah, you remember the school's heartthrob. Very clearly.

"I was talking to him this morning and he said he'd be very glad to catch up with you again." Jeongin settles beside you, "It's not a date, y/n. He's an old friend. It wouldn't hurt, would it? You can't possibly sit here all day long crying about him."

You open your mouth to argue, but only air slips out and you realise you don't have anything to defend your miserable state with. You knew this was coming; when you cut off all ties with Seo Changbin, you knew this was coming.

Jeongin is right; you need to go out and meet new people.

You roll your eyes before pinching Jeongin's cheeks, "Fine. Give him my number."

He responds by pulling your cheeks as well.

*

The first day of work is weirdly gut wrenching.

You hadn't expected yourself to be this nervous but here you are, muttering under your breath as you make way towards the office.

"You'll be okay, y/n," you breathe in, "You've worked hard for this." And breathe out.

A few more minutes of self pep talking and you see all your hard work and expectations go down the drain as you feel a few droplets of rain fall onto your head. You look up and the dark, heavy clouds greet you.

Bloody brilliant.

You see the office goers around you jog quickly to the nearest shelter but you're short on luck today as your gaze falls on your watch and you realize you don't have enough time to wait for the rain to pass.

So you grab your office bag, cover your head with that and make a run for it.

The sole of your high heel shoes dig into your feet and a throbbing pain shoots through your body, as you wince. Note to yourself - never wear heels to office again.

You also secretly pray to the gods that your contact lens don't get washed off. Turning up at your new office on the first day with a blood red iris doesn't feel too fun, really.

"Do you need a lift?"

You had been so busy running to your office that you don't notice when a black car drives toward you and the driver rolls down the window, offering you a smile.

Seo Changbin.

Your heart skips a few beats.

"Y/n, do you need a lift?"

You blink back to reality when he clicks his fingers in front of you, "I-I mean if that's okay with you."

Changbin smiles, pointing to the passenger's seat, "Come on in."

When you're comfortably seated in his car, using his spare towel to wipe off the water from your face and hair, his questions start-

"So.." He steps on the break when the traffic light turns red, "How have you been?"

You look at the digital clock displayed on the cars' LED, and sigh. You're late to work and you're stuck in traffic with the one man you'd rather not be stuck in traffic with. Brilliant.

"Good." Your eyes are focused on the cars outside the window, "You?"

There's a moment of silence before he speaks again, "Fine."

Fine? Just Fine? Shouldn't he be over the clouds, now that the wedding is finally around the corner?

"Okay.."

"Actually, I meant to ask you earlier, y/n." He turns to you, a gentle smile playing at his lips, "I am throwing a party this weekend. I'd love it if you could come by. And I could introduce you to her."

You sink back into your seat, biting your lip, wondering if you want to ever know who her is. Your peace of mind is more important than meeting your ex crush's fiance, right? And if you do end up going to the party, whom would you hang out with? It's not like you know any of his rich friends and cousins and there's no way you'd hang out with Changbin and the said fiance.

You are about to respectfully reject the invitation when a sudden, seemingly good idea pops into your head.

Bang Chan.

You nod, shrugging, "Okay. I'll be there."

You clasp your hands together as he continues driving and you look out the window, unable to suppress the bubbling excitement.

"Great, then." He replies, suspiciously.

*

The evening of the party finally arrives, much to your dismay, you find yourself seated next to Chan. He's just the same as the guy in your memory; a gentleman.

"You look pretty, y/n." He had greeted you as he held the car door open for you, "I'm glad we could meet up."

His words turn your cheeks into a darker shade of red but your heart doesn't beat quite as furiously as you'd expect it to.

Muttering a small thank you, you seat comfortably in the car while Chan drives towards Changbin's family's old Farmhouse on the outskirts of the city. You've been there before - during summer holidays, he would take you there with his family. That place was only filled with happy memories of sunshine, swimming pools, watermelon juice and bonfires.

You swallow the grief that comes along with these memories.

"Are we here already?" Chan pulls over in a familiar driveway not even ten minutes later, jogging up to your door and clicking it open, like the gentleman he is.

"Yeah, we're here." Chan smiles, "Very less traffic tonight."

You guys walk through the huge metallic gate, making your way through the main door of the house.

"Uh..." People are crowded mostly around the front door and in the front yard, so you and Chan have to push and squeeze your way into the Farmhouse. You hate the feeling of sweaty bodies pressing against you (or holding Chan's hand for stability) but desperate situations call for desperate measures.

"I hate it here." You mutter when you later find yourself by the pool side, swirling the drink that you don't even plan on drinking and looking at all the flushed faces having the time of their lives.

Thankfully, Chan happens to be on the same boat as you.

"I'm sorry I dragged you here, Chan. We could have just gone for a movie."

Chan giggles, "Hey, it's alright. I don't mind, I'm glad I could spend some time with you after so many years."

His eyes shine and dimples deepen.

You whisper, "Yeah, me too."

Chan is a handsome man, good at all kinds of sport, good at arts, very smart and intelligent yet there's a part of you that knows you'd never be able to reciprocate his flirtatious words. It's sad, really, but that's just how life is.

"Wow, those two seem to be having the time of their lives." Chan chuckles, pointing at someone behind you.

It's quite dark outside, the only source of light being a few decorative fairylights hung at random places haphazardly.

Hiding behind a huge, tall bush, you see a couple, kissing each other like it were the last day on the planet.

The guy's hands roam all over the woman's body and the woman is so loud that even you could hear her sighs and moans. When she pulls away to catch her breath for a second, Chan asks you, "You know her?"

"Nope. I don't know either of them."

You look away; what kind of creep looks at a happy couple like that? (Not a creep, just a lonely and touch starved person)

"Should we check out the dinner table?" Chan suggests and you agree with a nod, "I hope there's no crowd there."

As expected, there actually isn't a crowd there - there's only Changbin, sitting and nibbling on a pizza slice while scrolling through the phone.

The moment your eyes land on him, your feet as if stop on their own and your heart bangs furiously against your chest.

He's breathtakingly gorgeous.

By the time you debate in your head whether or not you want to sit there and fill your stomach, Chan has already made his way to Changbin.

"Hey, Bin!" He greets him with a smile.

Changbin looks at Chan with an unamused smile, the same one from your high school days, when these two were named the biggest rivals on campus. You wonder if somewhere deep in his heart, Changbin had still not let go of that rivalry.

"Hey, Changbin." You manage to whisper before sitting beside Chan.

He looks almost angry.

"You should have the pizza. It's good." He mutters, turning to pass you a slice of pizza on a plate, "Help yourself, Chan."

Yup, there it is. The Seo Changbin that would kill to be on top. You feel worse about dragging Chan here now when neither of you were having a good time.

"Thanks, mate. " Chan replies.

Your ears ring with the sound of approaching footsteps, and when a pretty girl comes walking in and takes Changbin in her arms, your heart stings. Like a fresh wound.

"Y/n.." Chan whispers to you as you watch the two collide in a loving embrace, Changbin smiling at her and running his fingers through her hair.

Your heart hurts at how happy and content he looks.

You could have had that, a part of you thinks, if you weren't such a coward, it would have been you instead of her.

"Y/n," Chan calls you again.

"What?" Your tone is harsher than you intended, "What happened?"

You think Chan is about to give you the whole it-is-time-to-move-on talk but he doesn't, instead he points at the girl and whispers,

"It's her. The girl we saw earlier."

The rest of the night is blurry to you, all conversations, all gazes, all thoughts just feel ....like an awkward dream.

"We have to tell Changbin."

You're sitting at Yang's Cafe at 1 am the same night, watching Jeongin's brother guide his staff to clean the place up.

"I agree." Chan says, biting the inside of his cheeks.

While you, on the other hand, are completely zoned out, staring at the glass of water placed in front of you and watching the droplets on its surface race each other.

"Y/n, what do you think?" Jeongin asks when you don't take part in their discussions.

You sigh, "I don't know. I really don't. As much as it troubles me that Changbin is being cheated on, I don't want to get involved in their personal relationship. "

"Let's not tell anyone for now, then. But someday in the future, before that goddamn wedding, we have to tell him. He deserves to know." Chan agrees.

You purse your lips and close your eyes.

Chan is right.

Changbin deserves to know the truth.

*

"So, how's it being back in town, y/n?"

"It feels good. Weird, but good." You smile at your old teacher, "How have you been, Miss Oh?"

Your teacher adds sugar to the cup of tea in her hands and then looks at you, smiling - the same old smile, except with more wrinkles now, "I've been good. I'm retiring next year so I'm glad I could see you before that, huh?"

You nod your head, "I'm glad too. The school hasn't changed much, unlike what I had expected."

Other than the addition of some new labs and libraries, and the change in color of the walls, everything was still the same. No place in this old school building feels foreign to you.

"Ugh, these administration people I tell you, y/n, they're cheap idiots. They won't spend a single penny on infrastructure unless it's absolutely necessary." She complains as you giggle in response,

"They've always been like that."

Miss Oh gulps some tea from her cup, "Anyway, y/n, I have a class now. I would have loved to stay and chat, really, but I'm afraid that might get me in to trouble."

"No issues, Miss Oh. Go ahead. I'll just roam around the school a little more though, if that's okay."

After Miss Oh leaves, you step out of her cabin and walk the familiar corridors, reminiscent of the memories you have here. Studying a few minutes before tests, bunking classes, running to class when you're late, hanging out with your friends- these corridors have seen you grow in love, in friendship, in life. There's absolutely nothing that could ever replace these memories.

Mindlessly, you wander around the third floor, walking toward the end of the corridor before stopping in front of an old door, way too familiar to not try and push open.

While a part of you tells you it might not be a good idea to go into that room again, there's also a part of you that thinks it's a bloody brilliant idea.

Pushing the door open, you walk into the old dusty room, sighing in relief when you see a particular set of letters still carved on the wall.

CB and YN were here.

You finally let your tears run free, as you crouch down to touch the letters.

Your heart aches at how much you miss Changbin being an important part of your life and how much you miss being his top priority. And your heart aches for Changbin, who is so in love with his fiancé and has no idea he's being cheated on.

You almost want to leave this town and go back to your mother, away from this terrible mess. Yet you don't find it in yourself to act on those thoughts.

Maybe, it is your fear of abandoning him once again that stops you. Or, maybe it is simply the unconditional love you harbor for him.

* Surprisingly, Yang's Cafe is near empty that afternoon.

"Did something happen, y/n? You look really worried." Changbin has his arms crossed over his chest, looking at you with a tense frown.

"Um..it's kind of complicated." You sigh. For a second, you see the genuine concern and innocence on his face, and you wonder if it is worth telling him the truth at all because it would kill you to see him lose his smile but then, his engagement band shines on his ring finger and your stomach turns unpleasantly.

He has to know. From you. In person.

"Changbin, that day at your party...I saw something. " You whisper, "Something I shouldn't have. I should have turned a blind eye really but I can't. My conscience won't allow it. I'm sorry, Bin."

"Y/n, it's okay, just tell me," he reaches over and wraps his fingers around yours, soft and gentle, "You're scaring me."

"Changbin, your fiance is cheating on you. I-I saw her kissing another man that night. Chan saw it too." You feel sick even having to say this to him, "I think you should confront her."

He sucks in a deep breathe, his face completely void of any emotions as he extracts his hands from yours.

"I know." Is all he says.

His eyes drill into yours, as if accusing you of a crime. He looks angry. Just how he looked the day you brought Chan to his party.

"Why are you still marrying her then?" You question.

He sits up straight, "Y/n, I wish I could explain. But I can't. I'm sorry. And please, stay out of this, okay?"

"Why? Why should I stay out of it?" Your voice threatens to break, "I cannot watch my best friend marry a woman who's not loyal. You deserve better than this, Bin."

A sarcastic chuckle leaves Changbin's lips as he taps his foot against the floor, "Let me correct you, y/n. You were my best friend. Seven years ago. You're not anymore."

Your heart shatters.

A part of you knows you deserve this after ghosting him for seven long years. You were the center of each other's world at one point of time.How could you have been so selfish to ever think that your absence and lack of communication wouldn't hurt him?

"Changbin, I'm sorry for everything I did okay. B-but I never stopped thinking or worrying about you. Even for one second. And I still do."

Changbin pushes his chair back and stands up while you stay frozen in your seat.

"It doesn't seem like that though. "

"What do you even mean!"

"Chan. I mean Chan, y/n." He grabs his phone and purse, "Goodbye, y/n. I hope Chan turns out to be a better friend than I ever did." With that, the love of your life walks out of Yang's Cafe.

And for once, he doesn't even look back.

* "Y/n, don't let go of my hand!"

Changbin is panting heavily, his voice shaking with fear as he desperately tries to hold onto you.

He should have known it would be a bad idea to play badminton near the infamous cliff in your town yet when you had showed him your innocent smile and pleading eyes that day, he just couldn't say no.

Your sweaty hands clutch his, legs dangling over the edge of the cliff. Your free hand grabs the rough surface of the rocky cliff to keep yourself from falling.

You want to cry; but you're too traumatized to even let out more than a few terrified grunts. "Y/n," he yells, "I'm going to try and pull you up one more time, okay?."

You don't even remember how you had ended up in this situation; one second you were happily giggling, playing badminton with Changbin and in the next second, you found yourself hanging by the cliff, praying for your dear life.

With all the energy he has left, he tries to pull you up onto the surface.

"Y/n, you have to free the other hand. Let go of that rock." He pants.

You shake your head vigorously, you know you would not survive if you let go of the rock, you'd fall thousands of feet below into absolute nothingness.

"Y/n, please listen to me." Changbin pleads, now crying, "Please. I'll catch you, I promise. I'll not let you die. Just..please."

Changbin sounds like he's about to give up and in all honesty, you couldn't blame him really. Everytime your eyes fall on what's beneath you, a part of you loses hope.

"Please, come on, y/n," he's still pulling at your free hand, while his right hand awaits desperately to grab the other hand. A mixture or sweat and tears grace his face, making him shine under the bright afternoon sun. Your heart aches at the mere thought of never seeing him again- your friend, your childhood crush, your partner in everything.

Well, here goes nothing then.

You suck in a deep breath and let go the Rock, immediately reaching for Changbin. He is quick to grab both of your arms and in one swift movement, he pulls you up onto the surface.

You fall onto his chest, "Y-you saved me."

Changbin let's out a sob mixed with a relieved giggle, pulling you into his arms.

Your eyes feel heavy, as darkness slowly begins to engulf your vision.

"Oh God, I am so sorry this happened, y/n. It's all my fault." He cries, rubbing your back softly, "I'm so sorry. I thought I was going to lose you, oh God. Fuck!"

You want to tell him that it was never his fault, and that you wouldn't even be alive if not for him but your body betrays you and your body goes limp against his.

*

"I'm not leaving this neighborhood."

Your hands rest angrily on your waist as your mom frantically walks from your closet to where the suitcase is spread open on your bed, shifting all your clothes. She dumps them inside the suitcase, not bothering to fold them even.

"You will do as I say! That Seo Changbin tried to push you off of a cliff and heaven knows what he might do next!" Your mom yells back.

You sit at the edge of your bed, trying to keep yourself calm, "Mom, I told you it was an accident. I fell because I was going after the shuttlecock and didn't notice the cliff. Moreover, why would my best friend want try to kill me!"

Your mom let's out a sarcastic laugh, closing the suitcase roughly. She looks at you with eyes full of contempt and a part of you knows that there's no point in trying to convince her. Her mind is already made. Yet you refuse to go down without a fight.

"You're just sixteen, sweetie. You don't know anything about the cruel world, " your mother sighs, "Rich people are not friends with anyone. Changbin may be nice to you but he only sees you as a pathetic poor girl."

"Mom, we're not even poor!"

"Yes, I know. But those filthy rich businessmen consider everyone below their economic status poor. His family probably doesn't like him being friends with you which is why they asked him to get rid of you."

You think of Mrs. Seo's face in your head, always smiling and always welcoming. You remember Changbin's sister and how she'd promised to let you borrow her dress for this year's winter prom. And you think about Changbin- his face, his smile, his passion for music and his protectiveness towards you. Why would these people ever want to hurt you?

"Mom, you're being ridiculous right now! Do you even hear yourself!" You stand up from the bed, now beyond frustrated.

She walks upto you and grabs your arm tightly, nails digging into your skin as you whimper slightly. "You will listen to me. I am your mother and you will listen to me. " she growls, "Pack the rest of your stuff. We're leaving tomorrow."

When she finally walks out your bedroom, your first instinct is to dress yourself in your black hoodie and track pants, and quietly slip out of the back window of your room.

The cold air nips at your skin, goosebumps slowly appearing on your arms and legs but you're too preoccupied to pay too much heed to it.

You reach Changbin's house and like always, walk up to the backyard and climb upto his room through the emergency staircase.

When Changbin hears knocks on his window, he quickly removes his headphones, "y/n?"

He walks upto the window and let's you in, his heart more at peace now than it's ever been the entire day. The guilt from the accident you had earlier was clawing at his conscience.

His room is mostly dark except for his table lamp. You notice the lyrics notebook lying on the table, open with some scribbles and random phrases on the pages.

"How are you feeling?"

You sit at the edge of his bed, cross legged while he kneels on the floor to get to your level. His hands find yours naturally.

"Fine," you swallow the tears that have been accumulating since you left the house, "Changbin, I- we're leaving tomorrow."

Changbin is taken aback; his heart shattering into billions of pieces at your words.

"Leaving? What do you mean Leaving?" his voice trembles.

You lick your dry lips and tell him everything your mom had told you earlier. When his face twists bitterly, a part of you wishes you'd held your tongue yet a bigger part of you wants Changbin to know the truth now; you didn't want him sending you off with lies in his mind and the fear of him finding out some years later just killed you inside.

"I'm so sorry, Changbin. Mom's just not been okay after the divorce." Your voice breaks when Changbin refuses to look at you, "I know she's speaking bullshit. But there's absolutely nothing I can do to change her mind, I've tried I swear. I'm sorry, Changbin."

When Changbin finally does look at you, even in the dim lit room, you see the tears glistening on his face, mirroring the ones that roll down your cheeks. "Why are you sorry, y/n? I don't blame your mom." He mutters, "It was partly my fault. I should have taken more care, I-"

You cup his cheek, "Shh. Bin, are we really going to spend my last night here crying and blaming ourselves? We might never see each other again."

The words sink deep into his soul, and he nods. He wills his tears back in as he grabs your hand tighter.

"Okay. What do you wanna do?"

You smile a little, "You're not gonna like it though. "

"Stargazing it is then." He giggles a little as the both of you make your way to balcony attached to his room.

It is quiet outside, unlike the noise in your head and you feel the calmness spreading to you when you look up at the stars.

Changbin brings a picnic mat from inside and spreads it out on the floor, along with two pillows and a blanket.

"We'll stay in touch, yeah? If you ever need anything, I'll be right here." He reassures you, lying beside you, hands behind his head.

You smile yet you cannot bring yourself to promise him the same because you know your mother would do everything in her power to push the two of you apart, even to the point of physically hurting Changbin. You would never want that so you'd rather distance yourself and let Changbin forget about you. And maybe, just maybe fate would be a little nicer to you and decide to bring you into his life again. Many years later.

He presses a soft kiss to your head, "You'll always be my best friend, y/n. I don't care how far we are."

It takes everything in your being to not repeat the words.

*

"Changbin, come on we're getting you to the hospital this instant, okay?" Mrs. Seo is furious next morning, running from room to room, looking through the list of doctors she'd saved just in case of emergency.

When she looks at her son, sitting on the sofa with one of his eye irises turning a glowing red, she is reassured that this is an emergency.

"How did this even happen, mom? I swear I didn't try to do anything funny with my eye." He murmurs, scared, "It feels so itchy, gosh!"

Mrs.Seo looks at him with concern just when the doctor picks the call, "Oh, hello Dr.Lee! Thank god you picked up!"

After his mom walks out of his room, Changbin quickly types you a text,

Binnie: Hey. Did you leave already?

Y/nnie: No not yet. We've stopped at the doctor's.

Changbin's eyes widen in alarm.

Binnie: What why?

You look at your face in the decorative mirror at the doctor's waiting room, one of your irises burning into a bright shade of ruby.

Y/nnie: Mom's running a cold.

You close the messenger app before he even replies, deciding to change your number and deleting all your old contacts as soon as you move into your new house. And as much as it hurt you, this one text turned out to be the last time Changbin and you ever talked.

*

It has been raining all day, which means you were stuck in your goddamn house with nothing to do but cry about Changbin and your lost friendship and your broken heart.

After you manage to get some food into your body during dinner time, you crawl back to your room and look into the mirror as you comb your hair and moisturize your skin.

(Self care is important, y'all)

Your red iris stares back at you, taunting your mistakes and calling you a coward.

If only you had still tried to keep in touch with him, if only that stupid accident wouldn't have happened in the first place, if only.

Suddenly, a knock on your balcony door makes you jump in your place.

Shit. Is it a burglar?

You grab the closest thing that could be classified as a weapon - which happens to be an umbrella.

The knocking continues.

"Y/n, it's Changbin." He yells, "Can I please talk to you?"

You freeze in your spot.

Why in the world is he here? Does he have anything worse to say? Is he here to invite you to his wedding? But why would he sneak in through the balcony when he can easily ring the main door bell.

"Y/n, are you in there?"

You quickly walk upto the door and slide it open, revealing Changbin, completely drenched in the rain. His wet hair stuck to his face and "Shit. What the- God, come inside!"

He obeys and tiptoes inside your room, a guilty expression plastered on his face.

You guide him directly to the bathroom and offer him a towel.

"What are you even doing here, Bin?" You lean against the door frame, hands crossed over your chest.

He is drying his hair with the towel when he looks up at you as if to answer your question but he stops. His mouth hangs open as his eyes remain glued to your face.

And that's when you realize why he looks so surprised.

"Shit- fuck." You turn around immediately, "my lenses," you mutter to yourself.

But before you can even walk upto your dressing table, Changbin has caught your wrist and spun you around, pulling you closer to his body.

"Your eye." He let's out a shaky breath.

"Yes, I know. Please don't freak out. It's always been like this after -"

"After the accident." He finishes your sentence, "I know."

Your mouth runs dry as his face draws in closer, "What do you mean you know? What do you know?"

He let's go of your wrist and takes a step back, turning around so that his back faces you.

And when he turns to look at you again, you swear you could have passed out there and then.

"Y-you have it too." You whisper, weak in the knees, "You have a red iris too."

Changbin gives you a small smile, "Yes, y/n."

"But why? What does this mean?" You say, "Is it a symptom of some chronic illness?"

"It's a soul mark."

"What's a soul mark?"

"It's a mark that exists on the bodies of soulmates."

You feel a pang in your chest; like someone was squeezing your heart out of your chest.

"Right," You fall back onto the bed, dazed with the sudden piece of information, "And how do you know all this?"

Changbin kneels down in front of you, hands finding yours. He looks more relaxed than he did since the first day you come back to town.

It almost feels like you had been given back your old friend.

"I've been doing my research, y/n. After you left, this is all I've been doing." He says, "This is also the reason why I had gotten engaged. By that time, I had given up on finding a soulmate. So I just settled for whatever I got. I didn't even feel bad when I found out my fiance was not in love with me. For the world, we might look like a happy couple, but truly, it was just a marriage of convenience for our parents' business."

You bite your lips wondering how to respond to these words. He'd laid bare his heart in front of you, something you never thought he'd do ever again.

"What now?" You say, tired.

He intertwines your fingers, "Also, I'm sorry for yesterday. I shouldn't have said all that."

You nod, "It's alright. I know you didn't mean it. And for the record, I and Chan have nothing going on."

"And for the record, I also broke off my engagement."

Your eyes widen as a gasp leaves your lips, "What? Why?"

"Because when I told my parents that I do not love my fiancé, and that I have only ever loved you, they said my happiness was more important than their business."

When you don't reply to his words, he looks worried, "Hey, you don't have to feel burdened to like me back and all okay? Literally, if you want me to leave you alone, I will. I understand-"

You pull him by the nape and place the softest, gentlest, most sincere kiss on his lips.

"I feel the same way, dumbass." You sigh as you pull him into your arms.

He muzzles his face in the crook of your neck, playing with your hair from behind, "So what now?"

"Let's start with a date." You say, "Let's take it slow."

Changbin wraps his arms tighter around you, kissing your cheek, "As you wish, my love. "

#skz #stray kids #skz au #skz scenarios #stray kids scenario #skz changbin #seo changbin #skz ff #skz angst #skz fluff #skz x reader #stray kids fics #stray kids changbin #seo changbin au #skz soulmate au #skz smut #stray kids x reader #skz changbin x reader #skz fanfic #skz fic #3racha #spearb #skz changbin fanfic #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #kpop au #skz kpop #kpop fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst

[remsmoonlight]

— title : sweeter than candy

— word count : 3k words

— pairing : daryl dixon x reader

— summary : daryl is good at keeping things buried, but when the thought of words left unsaid do you both realise you have both been thinking the same thing about the other. 

— warnings : mentions injuries, mentions of death

“ hi!! OMGG I came across your account and I’m obsessed with your writing!! I was wondering if you could write a Daryl Dixon x Reader following candy coated promises. Where Daryl has developed feelings for reader and following an errand run she gets injured and has to stay in bed. And Daryl find out! If that makes sense! Thank you!!! “

           ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*   requests are open ! / requested by anon *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A deep desperation of yearning to be useful has led you to forget the risks involved in the interminable list of things that wish to cause you harm and are able to on such an intense scale. Luck had been on your side for so long, the illusion of life’s greatest ally refusing eluding your group for this long has proved itself to be just that — nothing more than an illusion. Once the burning of fear had dulled to nothing more than a dim ache, all you now feel is the one wound that does not run red yet pours into your veins as if it does. Stupidity. You’d volunteered yourself to go on a run with a small group, you’d spent enough time before the barbed wire fences, that you felt yourself becoming trapped.

A deep regret that would follow you even in death would be if any of your group would, too, meet their chapter’s end too soon by an immense error made on your part.

One thing that lays dormant in your mind, yet unable to completely fade is the fear of becoming too settled in safety. Spending too much time wrapped in a blanket of comfort that provides refuge from the grit the outside world revels in only hands you a vulnerability unsuitable for a reality submerged in death that roams freely. You don’t want to forget how to survive, you’ve come too far for that.

Part of that is how you have ended up being put to bedrest.

Your brain is yet to sort through and file the fleeting images that blend together into one disorientating image instead of a folder of what had occurred picture by picture. In one instance the group and yourself had been rummaging through the shelves that still contained some stock and the next, you’re rushing Maggie out of the way and pushing over shelves onto a growing horde of walkers. Though in the next second, your heart fell a thousand feet below as you lost your balance from the liquid coating the floor from where they’d tumbled and smashed to the floor, with the shards of glass forming a bewitching hazard.

“ your ankle still givin’ you trouble? “

The voice pulls you out of your thoughts, your sight settling on Maggie.

“ I don’t know if that hurts more or if these scratches do. “ You complain, your fingers lightly tug at the bandages that cover the fresh wounds that coat both of your palms, you take note of a number of loose fibres from the material.

“ Glass’ll do that to ‘ya. “ She chuckles, slowly moving into the room. She grabs a chair from the metal desk on the side and moves it next to your bed. “ I never got a chance to say thanks. “

“ You don’t have to worry about it. “ you refuse, shaking your head in turn.

“ I feel it’s my fault you’re like this. “

“ If we’re going to blame anyone, let’s blame my eyesight. I should have seen that wet patch. I should have been more careful. “ Frustration that burns bright in your reply as you turn away from her. Perhaps you’d spent too much time concealed from the harsh reality that constantly claws at you all as it takes refuge in a thick coat of a hauntingly isolating fog as it waits to drag you down with it further into the depths.

Mistakes are synonymous with fatalities now, one moment you’re on top of the world and in the next you can be in a free fall clutching the thin air as if it should be your saviour. Never have moments been promised, and this fact has never shone clearer than when the dead claimed the Earth for itself in an effort to void it of life wholly.

“ Hey, don’t be too hard on yourself. “ Maggie brings a hand forward to squeeze your shoulder momentarily, a comforting smile packaged with it easing some of the self loathing you could feel weaving itself into your being.

“ I don’t have much to do in here by myself, I have to keep myself entertained somehow. “

“ Well, I got an idea.. “ She trails off, a mischievous grin lifting her lips.

“ Maggie.. “ You utter a strict warning, already knowing where the conversation is about to lead.

She pauses for a second, laughter bouncing from grimy wall to grimy wall as she reacts to your cautionary tone, the light in her eyes bursting with the power of a thousand stars as it illuminates her features. Gratitude for the fleeting moments of rare normalcy that reflects a past occurrence in the old world runs deep, for a fraction of a second you can pretend you’re simply two friends joking about something goofy and foolish. For a minute, you’re not sheltering in a decrepit prison as you run from walkers, it’s a perfectly average afternoon.

“ You can’t tell me you don’t realise the way he looks your way now? I know you’ve been lookin’.. “

“ Okay, I think I'm tired now. “ You huff, shifting your body as to your ability with your injured ankle to face the wall that has an array of stains permanently painted into its surface.

Maggie only laughs in response, the sounds of steps dulling into nothing more than a ghost of an echo that informs you of her departure. Her words have pulled a string you’d not wished to pay attention to until it would be absolutely necessary. Needless to say that as much as you’d tried to bury the budding seeds of affection into the dirt, they’d only bloomed in force into a sea of colour with the evidence left to coat your fingertips for everyone to see.

Never had it been your intention to entertain this idea, when anything positive you’ve managed to seize with both hands can be ripped away so unexpectedly that you are left to nurse the empty space left behind of what once had been, grieving the idea of what could have been. However, there’s a dim curiosity that softly grows in size that envelopes around you, compelling a desire to reacquaint yourself with a human intimacy that fell to the back of the queue as the instinct to survive overwhelmed it. You don’t want to fear living, you don’t want to fear connecting to others on a deeper level, but you can’t help but simply.. be afraid.

Had you been in a different reality where the world continued on as normal, you would have probably fallen under his spell sooner.

Only after that one night you’d spent on watch together after he’d gone out of his way to bring you such a simple gift illuminated him in a way that your sight would often lean towards him. Many times you would find yourself analysing his actions on a deeper level, a coy warmth burying itself in the pit of your stomach when realising he’d included you in his thought process. From the chocolate bar, to you being the first person he’d check on if you needed anything before heading out on a run, to even the simple act of being there just to talk when life felt rough. A shape of one Daryl Dixon had been carved out by the man before either of you had realised.

A thunderous groan erupts from your lips as you turn onto your back to stare at the bunk on top with the realisation hitting you like a train threatening not to stop. You completely adore the Dixon.

About an hour away from the Prison Daryl secures the last of the rabbits caught, they swing side to side with each of his calculated movements. All Daryl finds himself wanting to do is to get back to the Prison, unable to push down the inclination of being back to the comfort the life behind those metal fences bring. It’s been a long day and all he’s interested in is getting back to those he holds dear.

That thought is when a fleeting frame of your face crosses his mind. Though he speaks not of which he truly wishes to share, the time you do spend together is something he cherishes more than a billionaire would with all of the money and rubies in the world if they had them in the palm of their hands. The darker side of him, the side that would always listen to those who preferred to taint his waters with their gloom, doesn’t allow the emotions constantly swirling within him to be touched by the burning sun rays as they are laid bare.

Heavy breaths fall without grace from his chest as he’s let through the gates, the stony expressions etched deeply into Carol’s features. No words need to be uttered to know it’s to do with you, Daryl doesn’t even allow a thought before he’s making his way on a path he has walked a thousand times and will walk a thousand times more. Creaks that echo in the darkening corridors that are not lit by the comforting flames of candles, the prison sounding as if it’s more in pain than it appears — still, he pays no care. His only goal is to check on you, he’d be unable to forgive himself if anything were to happen to you and he’d never be able to see you one last time. His brain conjures a number of horrific scenarios and tainted pictures to accompany them as it runs wild in a sea of dread.

The crossbow that had been secured in Daryl’s grip is lowered gently to the ground as he scans your form, a grateful sigh when he sees the slow movement of breathing.

He lowers himself into the chair next to your bed, trying to pinpoint the moment he’d stopped gazing upon your form as a friend to replace it with an aura of starlight — no longer did he see the colour of your eyes, but galaxies full of life and wonderment. Daryl allows himself a few seconds to chase each other by as he considers his next action, though deep down he’s aware his decision had already been chosen, as he threads his fingertips into yours to allow your warmth to comfort the panic that had been raging at the thought of your demise. His thumb traces a circle that is light enough to keep you tucked away in a slumber and as a comfort technique for him, where his mind allows him the time to placate himself.

Before he’s aware of it, the sky blends into itself once more as the pastel hues paint it with dashes of gold from the sun as dawn breaks and he’s hunched over with your hands still connected as one — the position held the entire night. Nothing can be heard in the confined space except a symphony of soft breathing from you both, the serenity only the early hours in which no one is awake brings comfort to the sleeping forms of you and Daryl.

A lengthy yawn escapes your lips as your eyes fight to open as they blink heavily to adjust to the light that invades as much as it can. The weight of something lying comfortably in your hands confuses you, as you distinctly remember there had been no pressure previously, the image before you washes your entire body with the icy grip of shock as you scan the trail leading from the hand within yours to the person it belongs to. Teeth grip your bottom lip as you bite it, attempting to battle away a smile that wishes to break free, you can’t believe the sense of humour that the universe has. Not an inch is moved by any part of your body, you seek to savour the intensity that such a simple action bears, your eyes positively glowing in adoration as a softer side to the man is revealed. Moments like these are few and far between, it leaves you wanting to bottle it up and pocket it forever.

A squeak of displeasure cuts through the serenity the early hours have worked so hard to cultivate as you inch your injured ankle to the side, clearly different positions prove to be the opposite of beneficial. The noise is enough to wake Daryl, his sudden alertness makes you doubt whether he’d truly been in a deep rest, but it’s the least of your worries as he realises he spent the night with his grip connected to yours. The warmth that brought a grounding comfort to your being now is a phantom touch you crave again once an eerily coolness now surrounds your empty palm.

“ ‘M sorry ‘bout that. “

“ There’s nothing to apologise for, Daryl. It was nice. “ You confess, your volume touches the air with a softness of a feather that descends to below in an elegant waltz.

“ Mhm. “ He turns his gaze to the floor, a thumb is chewed upon lightly as he’s wondering what he should say next. “ ‘Was worried about ‘ya as soon as I got back. “

“ Yeah, things just kinda happened. “

“ ‘Ya gotta watch y’self more out there. “ He scolds you with a light scorch of misplaced anger that almost lays eternally with him, a wave of anxiety at the thought of losing you are twins in a realm of horror he never wants to bear witness to.

“ I know, Daryl. “

Poisonous words full of fire and fury born out of dread of your existence in his life being cut short itch to burn your indifference to the situation. As he settles his gaze upon you, all he can see are the stolen moments you both have shared away from the group, where the person he’d created in his head built without even speaking to had been smashed into shards the more he got to know — you’re a fresh breath of peace in an unstable world that thrives on chaos. Quiet moments where all he can hear are the flickering embers of the fire are the memories he finds himself kicking for, all that lost time to never be recovered due to his preconceived notions.

“ Do ‘ya? “ Daryl shakes his head in frustration, his soul a pot of swirling emotions and thoughts blinding him to the point he can’t see straight. “ I can’t lose ‘ya. “

His voice is so low you barely hear it, your brows thread together in the slightest form as they’re unused to the window of Daryl’s vulnerability being so widely open.

“ You won’t. “ A faint twitch of your lips means well, you try to comfort the man. Your touch is delicate as your palm overlaps his with warmth.

“ Y’can’t promise that. “

“ But I can try! “ You argue lightly, a bounce in your response.

“ Forget it. “ Daryl sighs harshly, shaking his head as if to rid himself of the thoughts that run circles around his mind.

“ Daryl! Wait. “ Your voice falls on deaf ears as he’s already halfway towards the exit of the room, for a moment you forget your injury and a burning sensation flies with boundless wings up your protesting muscles and you land in a heap on the floor. The bandages do nothing to cushion your fall, you cry out in pain from the intensity of the throbbing plaguing your body.

“ Why can’t ‘ya be careful!? Damn it. “

Before you know it, Daryl is level with you as you feel his touch grazing your skin — ensuring you’d not injured yourself further. Guilt pools in his stomach at the thought of your current suffering being his fault, his ire now directs itself brightly towards him.

“ Dar — what’s going on? Why are you acting like this? “ You quiz as your expression contorts into a grimace. You’d not seen him behave like this for what feels like a long century, even more so when directed towards you.

“ Like what?! Huh? “

“ You’re being crazy! “ You state, your finger jabs into his chest.

“ Ain’t it obvious? “ Daryl asks suddenly.

Your head shakes, confusion clouds your features as if it’s an angry storm that has waited long enough for the calm — nothing can be seen through the darkened skies. All you want is for the sunny rays of truth to shed light upon this mess.

“ ‘Ya mean more to me than you should. “

“ Daryl? Do.. do you — ? “

He nods suddenly, unable to hear the words out loud no matter how true they ring, because as real as it is. There would be no taking it back then. Your lips purse as a sad smile lifts itself with no help from you, your heart hurting as you realise this could have been avoided entirely since you both appear to be on the same page. You acknowledge the fact that actions would speak louder than words in this scenario, your fingertips brush through darkened strands of hair as if they play a sheet of music with the aging competence of a commanding pianist. This is one of many songs your mind finds itself conjuring, a burning hope of this forging something more between you. It’s not long before your arms are wrapped around his neck, with Daryl unable to believe the scene in which he finds himself in, you’re a sky full of stars that he finds himself wanting to get lost in.

“ We can take this one step at a time, yeah? “ You question softly, not wanting to be witness to the fleeting images of a set of angel wings.

He agrees silently, a warmth spreads outwards from your cheeks and treks outwards to cover your completely. The moment is sweet, as it concludes with a honeyed kiss on his tanned cheek. In one frame you both are thinking the same thing, just how lucky you are to have fought through your fears of living and given in to taking the plunge into unchartered waters that Maggie and Glenn have already found themselves navigating.

In a world full of the dead, you both agree that to love shouldn’t be a reason to cower and hide.

#daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon oneshot #twd imagine #daryl fic #twd oneshot #daryl dixon imagine

[texanredrose]

Prep and Goth

Day 1: Enemies to Lovers/Secret Library Time

---

Weiss stared at the clock, mentally urging the second hand to move faster. The transition between this period and the next always took the longest- or at least it felt like time slowed down around this point in the day. She hated how the end of the period never caught her off guard; she was always keenly aware of the clock, with her work done and backpack already packed and ready for her to leave the classroom. She was usually the first one out the door.

“Hey, if I give you five lien, could you get me a redbull?”

“No, Ruby; for the last time, I don’t have a release period next, I’m a library aide.”

“Oh, come on, everyone knows you just show up, sign in, and disappear!” Her fellow senior slumped in her seat. “It’s not like you’re going to get in trouble! Ms. Goodwitch knows you ditch and she doesn’t say anything!”

How she’d become friends- perhaps even best friends- with the school’s most energetic track star was beyond her; it involved an ill fated chemistry lab and the fire department but, honestly, she couldn’t remember specific details beyond that. While Weiss would love to say she merely put up with and tolerated Ruby, the truth was that she still hadn’t entirely adjusted to the concept of having someone who would be with her through thick and thin. She was being… persuaded to open up to the young woman but she still kept more secrets than she probably should from her best friend.

“I swear, Ruby Rose, if you keep spreading such slander about my character, I’ll be forced to take drastic action!” She tore her gaze away from the clock to glare at the woman. “I do not skip class!”

Rolling her silver eyes, Ruby rested her head on her desk and groaned. “Just because you’re the Valedictorian doesn’t mean you have to be perfect, Weiss. No one’s going to care if you ditch one period.”

“I care!” The bell rang a moment later and she forgot about the argument entirely as she quickly grabbed her pack and fast walked to the door.

The walk from her class to the library was a blessedly short one, made slightly longer by classmates and underclassmen getting in her way as other students emerged into the hallway for the passing period. A cold glare managed to persuade some of them to move but not all of them- those blessedly ignorant few she stepped around or nearly barreled through if she could get away with it. It probably contributed to her reputation of being a vicious, cut throat type of person like her sister but her patience had worn too thin and she needed to get to the library.

A few steps from her goal, a hand suddenly landed on her shoulder and spun her around, and only two people in the whole school would dare put their hands on her like that, and only one of them for no good reason. “YANG-”

“Calm down, Princess, this’ll be quick, promise!” With hands on Weiss’ shoulders, she guided them away from the throng of students to a small alcove next to the library doors. “Just got something I need to say real quick.”

“What could you possibly have to say to me?” Weiss scowled at the blonde, annoyed that she seemed to get taller every time they talked, and crossed her arms over her chest. “Last I checked, I didn’t have anything to do with the girls’ basketball team. Or the weightlifting team. Or the boxing team. Or-”

Yang clapped her hands together in front of Weiss’ face, smiling that do-you-really-think-they’ll-expel-me smile of hers. “Hey, do me a favor? Drop the frigid bitch act for, like, five minutes, okay? Because I really don’t have the time for it; if you wanna go toe-to-toe in the bitch-out-lypmics, we can schedule that another time, but right now, I need to have a serious talk with you. It’s about Blake.”

At the namedrop, her blood ran cold and her heart lodged in her throat, eyes growing wide as a genuine tendril of fear began taking root in her chest. “Is she okay?”

“Well, that depends,” Yang replied, looking around at their classmates walking past without paying them any mind. “Look. I don’t get it, okay, the whole secret girlfriends thing, I don’t even know how you two got together… but what I do know is that Blake deserves better than someone who’s ashamed of her-”

“Don’t you dare put words in my mouth,” she hissed, worry turning to fury in the blink of an eye. “I’m not ashamed to be dating Blake. If it was safe, everyone would know!”

“Yeah, can you define ‘safe’ for me in this context? Because I’m having a real hard time convincing Blake you’re being sincere when you don’t want anyone knowing the two of you are dating.”

“You know we’re dating!”

“Because I refuse to let things go and I knew she was acting weird!” Yang growled in frustration, fingers flexing as if she was seriously debating throttling Weiss. “Listen, I figured it out and I bullied her into telling me weeks ago, but not even Ruby knows beyond that. Not a fan of keeping secrets but I’ll do it for a friend. Now, answer my question, please, because with the rest of the school convinced you two hate each other, this whole ‘don’t tell anyone we’re dating thing’ is clear as mud, and it’s really starting to get to her.”

Weiss’ shoulders fell as she looked away, her anger abating in the face of the situation presented to her. “It’s… complicated.”

“Then uncomplicate it for me.” Yang made a gesture with one hand. “Just give me a straight answer!”

“I can’t!” She stamped her foot, speaking before she could think about her word choice. “I can only give you a gay answer!”

Yang stared at her for a long moment. “So, that’s what Blake meant when she said you have the worst sense of humor.”

“I’m done with this conversation-”

Yang grabbed her arm and stopped her, expression turning serious. “Listen, you don’t wanna talk to me? Fine. But talk to Blake. If you really care about her, she deserves to hear that.”

As the blonde stepped away, the bell rang, making both of them late- not that it would matter. Ms. Goodwitch wouldn’t count her late and even if she did, a single tardy wouldn’t be much of a blemish on her record. There was a time when it would’ve bothered her but she’d grown past that a few years ago; perfection was, in some sense, in the eye of the beholder. Blake would notice, though, and she hurried to the library to keep her ‘secret girlfriend’ from worrying.

When she got to the library, she dropped her bag behind the counter and signed in, highly aware that Blake was somewhere among the rows reshelving books. 

The librarian gave her a small nod. “I presume you have good reason for being late but don’t make a habit of it.”

“Of course, Ms. Goodwitch.” With that, she grabbed a few leftover books that needed reshelving and went into the stacks to reshelve them. As soon as she was far enough away from the front desk, she spoke in a soft voice that Blake would be able to hear regardless. “Blake? I’m sorry I’m late.”

“Is everything alright?” She’d long ago grown accustomed to the faunus’ silent steps, which really shouldn’t be possible given the amount of glistening chains and bits of metal hung from her ensemble but it was one of those things Weiss had accepted about Blake at first and had grown to admire. “It’s not like you to be late.”

“I… got pulled into a conversation.” She debated, briefly, if she should mention who the conversation was with but ultimately decided against it. Yang would likely bring it up herself at some point but she didn’t want the distraction at present. “Blake… you know I care about you, right?”

“Yes, Weiss, and I care about you, too,” she replied, her voice holding that special lilt that Weiss used to think was snideness. Now, she recognized it as a gentle sort of teasing and, sometimes, a deflection. “What brought this on?”

“I’ve been thinking about some things… and I find myself curious about some… other things.”

“Truly, you have a way with words.”

“I’m trying to be serious!” Weiss whined, putting a hand to her head as she tried to think of a way to word what she wanted to say. In the next moment, Blake stepped up and wrapped her arms around her waist, resting her chin on Weiss’ shoulder in a silent show of support. This was, partly, where they differed, because even when words escaped Blake, the faunus could somehow find a way to convey what she needed; Weiss, in contrast, simply clammed up entirely if she didn’t begin insulting whoever was nearest. “You know the only reason we’re not dating publicly is because of my family, right? That, the moment I turn eighteen and gain access to my funds, I’ll shout it from the rooftops… right?”

Blake took a step back but one hand lingered on Weiss’ hip, a soft assurance that she wasn’t leaving but that they should probably have a conversation like this face-to-face. When she turned around, she searched shining amber eyes and found a touch of disbelief hiding there. “I’ll admit, I didn’t think it was the only reason.”

“It really is…” Weiss sighed, running a hand through her bangs in frustration. “I… I don’t know how to prove it, I don’t know if there’s anything I could say or do that would, but… I don’t want you thinking that I’m ashamed of dating you… that’s… that’s the furthest from the truth.”

Feline ears flicked towards one end of the row and both of them quickly focused on shelving the few books that remained as a group of students went back to one of the study rooms. Once the coast was clear, Blake sighed heavily. “I told Yang to drop it.”

“She’s trying to help.” Begrudgingly, she continued. “Ruby’s the same way. They meddle when they can but they have the best of intentions.”

“Still… she wasn’t too… forceful, was she?”

“She only threatened to throttle me, so no, she wasn’t too forceful.” Weiss tilted her head. “And, arguably, she has a salient point. I… I perhaps took it for granted that you would… that I made my feelings about you clear to you.”

Blake ducked her head, her ears flicking back briefly to blending into midnight black hair. As per her usual, the faunus was bedecked in all black save for the silver of the chains hanging from her pants and the snake bite piercings on her bottom lip. Whenever they were making out, Weiss found that flicking either of the piercings with her tongue would always result in a soft groan from Blake.

“So… when you turn eighteen…basically, when we graduate?” Blake took a step forward. “That’s… a long time to be a secret from everyone.”

“Well… not from everyone. Yang knows.”

“Uh huh.”

“And Ruby will know… when I tell her…”

“Right.” Blake came a bit closer. “I guess that means we won’t be going to prom together.”

Weiss raised a brow, then caught onto what her girlfriend was doing, a smile tugging at her lips. “You? Go to prom?” A soft chuckle. “I thought you said you wouldn’t be caught dead at… what was it you called it? A useless party for empty headed idiots?”

“And a waste of money. I said that, too.” Blake stopped just a hair’s breadth away and very nonchalantly shelved a book just behind Weiss’ shoulder. “But you’ve got a crown to win, right? Prom Queen to go with your other honors?”

“There’s only one crown that I care to claim,” she replied, reaching up to bury her hand in midnight locks between the faunus’ ears and pulling her down into a kiss. Normally, they didn’t indulge in such outside of Ms. Goodwitch’s office, which the librarian granted them access to once they’d reshelved all the books. If she suspected what they did in there, she remained silent, probably because while reshelving the books they would also fix what other aides did incorrectly and she appreciated the help more than she cared to curtail PDAs.

The kiss didn’t last too long- just long enough to drive her point home- but the look in amber eyes almost made her too weak to move.

Weiss gathered her courage. “I do love you, Blake.”

Not ‘care about’, not ‘fond of’, not any other arrangement of words she’d used over the past year to describe how she felt. Fear that caring too much would make her careless had prevented her from saying the words before. Now, though, she couldn’t go another moment without Blake understanding exactly how much she cared.

After the shock passed, Blake smiled softly, ears canting forward. “I love you too, Weiss.”

It took a moment for them to part but they returned to the counter and finished reshelving the books.

“Blake?”

“Yes?”

“Do you think I’d look good in black?”

---

Hi, yes, please join me in picturing Blake as a late 90′s/early 00′s goth girl.

#Monochrome #Monochrome Week 2021 #checkmatingweek2021

[zackcrazyvalentine]

U could do headcanons of idia, azul and Kalim with a fem!s/o who doesn't like her own body because she thinks that she too thicc? Can sfw, nsfw or both. U choose

Ah, anon, you’ve asked for something that I relate to a lot Once imagined Azul reassuring me through these doubts, it was so comforting, hopefully I’ve managed to write this well!

I know it’s hard to believe when these doubts plague our minds, but you’re beautiful ❤️ We’re all beautiful 💗 And lemme tell you, these boys (the whole cast) will love you so deeply, regardless of your looks and struggles. They will do their best to try and help you when brain isn’t being the friendliest ( ◜‿◝ )

Just a small head’s up:  tw // self harm In Kalim’s part. Nothing super intense, but still want to put a warning just in case

There's also some suggestive mentions, but they're small

Let’s begin!

-- -- --

☀️ Kalim Al-Asim 🦂

It takes him some time to notice, but more so because he’s carefully taking note of her behavior after it plants a seed of suspicion and worry in his mind

He wants to make sure his suspicion is right and isn’t assuming wrongly

There are two things that ring the alarm: her attitude towards food, and her (un)willingness to join him in dancing

These are the things he notices quickly due to his proclivity of throwing parties and banquets for anything

At first, he brushes off her relative shyness at the table and how she politely declined his offer to try new dishes cooked that day

I mean, it does shock him a bit, but it’s fine

Around the third time he sees this happen is when he feels unease at the negative answer, the feeling grows bigger as he watches the expressions she makes at the food and how much she’s eating

But he decides not to bring it up, maybe it was all a product of his imagination! Yeah, probably misinterpreted things!

Still, he keeps a close eye on her. He cares a lot for his beloved, wants to make sure everything is fine

Same with dancing. Kalim is a little taken aback by her declining his offer, but it’s fine at first

He tries to approach her again, a little more calm and not as enthusiastic so the spotlight isn’t on her (he sees her discomfort having others’ eyes on her), and of course respects her answer

But seeing her frown lightly while everyone enjoys a nice dance tugs at his heart

“What can I do? How do I ask her? Ah… I just want to help, she looks way more beautiful with her smile!”

He may try to hint at the topic, but does so in such a strange way it gets nowhere

It’s until he sees her pinch at her body or examine her reflection a little too strictly that he confronts her

If Kalim notices her doing any sort of harm, doesn’t matter the severity, he will shed tears and shower her with all his sincere thoughts to try and make her recover her senses

He doesn’t mind that she’s on the thicker side, he loves her just the way she is!

The dorm leader will tell her just how amazing he thinks she is

If she wants to make changes to her routine, exercise more, follow a properly made dietary regimen, he will be with her every step of the way! And more than willing to join her in the routine!

Perfect mood booster when you have to keep trying and restarting tbh

But all that only IF she wants to, if not, that’s totally fine! It’s her decision and he respects it

“[Name], what’s wrong, why are you doing that?” Kalim asked. Turns out the 2nd year came across the girl in the same lonely hall.

The [hair color] flinched at the sudden intrusion breaking her away from her thoughts. “K-Kalim! I, uh, I-!” Her hands tremble, “Did you see…?” A furious, embarrassed blush covers her cheeks.

The dorm leader approaches her slowly, going to hold one of her hands. “[Name], my sunshine… Are you alright? Why have you been holding back on things you love? The food, dancing with me…” Concern filled those round ruby eyes, “Are you struggling with something? Can I help?”

The [ x ] year looked to the ground, she felt ashamed of being caught like this.

“Hey, come on,” The boy spoke gently while entwining his fingers with hers, “It’s okay, you can look at me. I won’t judge.”

“[Name], why were you pinching your body like that?”

There it was, the dreaded question. The girl shifted around and groaned silently from how uncomfortable it felt to have her action pointed out like that.

“Kalim, it’s-”

“No, it’s not fine.” He interrupted her, a stern tone mixed with worry in his voice. “Love, my flower…”

“You’re beautiful!”

His eyes shone with love, worry and were beginning to fill with tears. “Are you having doubts about your looks?! [Name], but you’re the most beautiful out there! You-You stole my heart in under 5 seconds of interacting!!” The emotional boy hugged her, burying his face on the crook of her neck. “Don’t hurt yourself because of that! There’s better ways to deal with this!”

“Kalim, please-”

“No, Love, listen!” He hugged her tighter for a second before separating, hands on her shoulders, “Do you know how many of my family’s customers, friends and business partners are chubby?! Many! And they’re the sweetest people! So cheerful and gentle, and kind! And you’re like them! Beautiful, breathtaking, always lending a hand to those who need, and you welcomed me for me! Not for my fortune, not to take advantage… You love me, and I love you! All of you! You’re-”

“I’m so fortunate to have you in my life, [Name]... You have no idea!” The Asim heir shed a couple tears before placing a tender kiss on his one and only’s lips.

[Color] eyes let droplets fall, allowing the girl to finally shrug away the net of negative thoughts that trapped her mind. She embraced her lover, “Thank you, Kalim… You’re golden” Her voice was muffled by his chest.

“So are you, [Name], the shiniest of all gold.” The boy returned his partner’s hug, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

A mischievous giggle left the white haired male. “Later today, I gotta kiss those pinches better!” Leaning down to her ear, he whispered, “I’ll be waiting for you in Scarabia~” And proceeded to wink once he stood up straight again.

The blush returned to color the girl’s cheeks. “K-Kalim! ...I’ll hold you to that…”

One last bright smile came to the dorm head’s face before dropping off his beloved to her class.

💀 Idia Shroud 💙

Probably the one to take the longest to notice

Mainly because he spends most time in his room, with not many face to face interactions. He does have the most irl conversations with his lover, however

Don’t take it the wrong way, but he welcomes the feeling of not having someone in his room constantly, he missed the feeling of solitude a bit…. But he only tolerates it for two days before feeling like something’s missing, something that made his happiness complete

He may even develop doubts of his own when she keeps refusing to get together

Being with a reclusive boy who sees skinny fem characters with very prominent curves in the media he consumes can be… tough 

She knew Idia most definitely had a handful of fictional crushes on these gorgeous characters, couldn’t help but poke and pinch at her jiggly skin wishing it could disappear

At first, he doesn’t mind much that she opts out of his random invitations to hang out in his room after class

But then she begins dodging his floating tablet multiple times

He takes notice of the way she tries to hide herself, he’s familiar with that body language

Baggy clothes, carrying books to cover her front, picking and pulling at her blouse and skirt/shorts/pants

“Is she… hiding from me? Does she… no longer love me?”

His self doubt becomes worse when even Ortho complains about [Name] being avoidant to him

“Where did it go wrong? I-I need to see her!”

This man is shaking where he stands before the door to her room, shaking from being so out in the open to other talkative people and from the anxiety of what may happen once he knocks on the door

However, her being his lover, he’s more than willing to push aside the nerves and bashfulness to have a talk

After she speaks up what’s going on, he’s quick to quell the uncertainty building in her heart and mind

He does expect to be heard and reassured, too! After all, that period of doubts was hard on both of them

Idia can offer cute little messages littered with sparkles and adorable kaomoji to encourage her with any changes she decides to make. Both of them also naturally express their love through text more frequently (stickers come in very handy with this)

Shroud knows the feeling of insecurities, that’s the least thing he wants you to experience in your relationship. He’s a genius when inventing and building things, he will do his best to build a nice, comfortable and healthy environment, a space where feelings can flow freely through your whole relationship

“[N-Name], please open..! It’s me, I-Idia… your... “ He gulped, feeling his stomach churn with tons of doubts (and a little embarrassment due to what he would do next). “Your… hero…” The blush was very visible.

The door opened a crack, a single glossy [color] eye looked at him. “Sorry, Idia, I’m not feeling superb… Can we do this some other day?”

No cheer, no affection tainted her eyes or voice, only misery.

“No!” Shroud cleared his throat, “I mean..! No, I would very much rather we talk now… I have things to speak about. May I come in?”

The [hair color] sighed, “Idia…”

A sudden burst of confidence and bravery lit up his heart. “No, nothing of that ‘Idia...’ stuff, [Name].” Taking a deep breath, he continued: “I can see something’s wrong with you. Preventing any accidental stumbles with my tablet, and even avoiding Ortho.” He fumbled with his fingers, eyes looking elsewhere to avoid their (single eyed) stare. “And… with all this… I’ve developed some doubts of my own… W-What I mean, [Name], is…”

Amber eyes finally locked gaze with the single [color] orb. “I want to help you… I can see you’re trying to hide, hide yourself, I know that slouching and hugging yourself language.” Pale hands reached for the doorknob. “Can we please talk?”

The door closed, making Idia feel a pang in his heart that mimicked the shutting door’s intensity. While the flaming boy processed what happened, clinking metal could be heard from behind the door.

“Come in.” A low voice instructed, door held open. Startled, Idia curiously looked around before slowly stepping in.

“I apologize for making you this worried, for avoiding you so hard… Didn’t consider how you would feel from this treatment.” [Name] stated, hands playing with the hem of her long shirt after closing the door.

It was the dorm leader who signaled her to sit down next to him on the bed. “No, I get that you wanted to isolate yourself to think, I’m guilty of doing that too.”

“Speak when you feel ready.” The Ignihyde student reassured.

Silence carried on for quite a long time. All the while, Idia sneaked glances at his heartthrob, admiring the way her hair looked even when on a bedhead, a hand wandered to brush against her knee and rest on what peeked of her thigh from under the shirt.

“Why… Why would you touch someone like me?” Even the girl was startled by her shaky question, turning to look at her companion with wide eyes and ears red from shame. “I- What I mean- Please just-!”

The boy silenced her with a finger to her lips. “What do you mean? I-I long to touch you, [Name]... You’re so warm and soft… I love hugging you, and having you sit on my lap as we-”

“Play games together.” The couple spoke in unison. 

“Even if I suck at them.” The girl added. “You don’t suck, you’re a nice teammate.” The 3rd year refuted.  “Besides, I like coming to your rescue.”

The [ x ] year sat upright, looking at him now. “Idia, love, do you mean it? Do you truly love me even if I’m not… super thin?”

Finally he understood what was happening. “So it was self doubt about her body…” “Of course I mean it, [Name]. When I’m with you, I’m at the most comfortable and can express my emotions and needs with no fear, with reassurance that you also want to cuddle and hold me, that you love me.” His own doubt formulated a question, “...You do love me, right?”

A [skin tone] hand reached to caress his cheek, “Of course I love you, Idia. You’re my hero, aren’t you?” She giggled a little at the term of endearment. “I just… Ugh, it’s gonna sound SO dumb, but… I got a little… jealous of your anime girls…” Her forehead bumped into his shoulder to prevent him from seeing her blush.

The older Shroud snorted lightly, “My my, why was that?”

“Well, don’t you see them?! They’re always skinny with damn big boobs and round butts, and they always look so cute and sexy in anything! I-... I sometimes struggle a lot finding nice clothes that fit me well, and those may not always look super cute…”

“Okay, yeah, the characters look like that, and yes, I have a handful of favorites… But they are fictional,” His arms wrapped around the girl still hiding on his shoulder, “And you are real, very real… Adorable, attractive, amazing. [Name], you’re the person I wish to touch a million different ways. Everything that makes you you… steals my breath away all the time.” The embrace tightened, with the dorm leader nuzzling into the crook of her neck.

[Name] repositioned herself to sit on his lap, kissing all over her boyfriend’s face. “I love you, Idia, I love you so much! You’re the most handsome guy, you’re so cute and intelligent! I’m so lucky to be with you!” The female student said between kisses while the 3rd year smiled tenderly.

“Say, you had doubts too. What were they about?” The curious girl asked.

Idia was snapped to reality, hand coming over to scratch the back of his neck. “Ah… Well, guess you weren’t the only one being jealous of… anime characters…”

“Wait, you were jealous of the 2D guys I like?!”

“And the idols, artists, and all that…” He admitted.

[Name] returned to kiss his face. “Oh no no! Can’t have that! Not when I love my hero with my entire heart and will choose him over any silly little drawing or artist there is!”

The flaming haired teen captured her lips in a kiss, escalating to multiple liplocks varying in intensity, until he eventually carried her to lay her down on the mattress.

A pointed tooth smile slashed before her eyes. “Now, if you allow me, I believe there was an intimacy meter I ranked out a while ago~”

🐙 Azul Ashengrotto 💜

The one who spots it and approaches it the quickest

He allows one day to analyze his observations and obtain more information before talking with her about the issue

Azul passed through the same self doubts and loathing while very young, and with how analytical he grew to be in order to exploit people’s insecurities to strike up deals, he noticed right away

His heart breaks. Why is his darling passing through this? Why didn’t he notice any beginning signs?

“Alright then, what can I do to help her through this?” Is his immediate response to the sadness he feels

He’s more than ready to lend a hand, genuinely. This is his beloved pearl, the one he loves most, he wishes for her torment to be cut short fast

Touches on the subject once he convinces her to share a drink together once Mostro Lounge is closed. It’s just them and their thoughts in the room now

Listens attentively to everything she says

Offers tender words of comfort and firmly states his view of her, his honest feelings

“I know how you feel, I perfectly know how it feels to be disgusted with the way you look… but that can change”

May shed a tear or two as both talk about the topic. Having felt these doubts, hearing the one he cares for think so lowly of herself really hurts

Ashengrotto encourages her to go forth with a new routine if she wishes so, if not, that is absolutely fine. He loves her for who she is, any decision made is fully respected

Does make it clear the path to change isn’t the easiest, but he will be there for her always

Of course he will help her with anything, from preparing meals to selecting “beginner” exercises for a morning workout session

But most importantly, he showers her in all the praise, security and affection for her to learn to love herself truthfully

His office, his shoulder, and his arms are always open for any feelings she wishes to spill and get out

The silence was uncomfortable. [Name] knew Azul wanted to have a serious talk, something in his whole body language and energy told her of it.

She just sipped her [drink] from time to time in order to divert her attention away from her boyfriend.

Clearing his throat, the merman broke the silence: “[Name], dear, I know you’re struggling with something.” The female student became alerted by those words, looking at the grey haired with wide eyes. 

“I see my suspicion is right.” Azul moved to sit beside her, “My pearl, please, you know I’m here to listen, to help any way I can.” His gloved hand tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, giving him full view of her beautiful face.

Silence prevailed again as she fumbled with the metallic straw in her glass.

“[Name],” He took her hand now, “Are you feeling negatively about your body?”

It startled her, “H-How did you know, Azul…?” Her voice was barely audible.

His expression became saddened, an upset smile graced his lips. It was his turn to look away for a moment. “Well… you do know I used to be a chubby kid, don’t you? Someone people made fun of.” A kiss was placed on the knuckles of her held hand, “I know the signs, the feeling a little too well… Just observing you for a day was enough for me to draw the conclusion.”

The [hair color] gripped his hand tightly, effectively making him look at her. “A-Azul… I… know I have no right or reason to feel this way, but-”

“No, absolutely not. You have your reasons to feel like this, and I’m more than willing to help you realize they can be overcome.” Octavinelle’s dorn leader interrupted. “Don’t invalidate your emotions, love, we all go through them… If it’s something small or big we’re fretting over, we will only realize once we process them correctly.”

The [dorm] student slid over in the booth to wrap her arms around her partner, nuzzling into his chest. “I… just think… that with your talents and intelligence, your charm and attractiveness… you can do way better than me. I-I don’t understand why you’re with me when surely there are many other better looking people than me, up here on the surface and down in the waters.”

The octomer felt his heart shatter, breath coming in shakily as he listened to her words. This reminded him of how he always feared the twins faking their friendship only to mock him later on.

“I mean, don’t you see? The rolls in my body, how I’m bigger than others… You always look so elegant and gorgeous, people must think I look so sloppy next to you. They must ask themselves how you can be with someone like me…” The nerves at the pit of her stomach made her feel fuzzy as she spoke her next question.

“Are you… with me… because I’m easy to manipulate due to these insecurities?”

That broke his heart even worse than his overblot incident.

“No, of course not!” A sob tore through him, “[Name], you’re my beloved angelfish, my one and only! I love you more than anything!” Ashengrotto buried his face on the luscious locks of [hair color] he adored, tightening his embrace.

“I-... I-I know I’m known to be a-a sneaky, sleazy bastard octopus who uses others, but [Name],” His hands went to lift her head, holding onto her cheeks while her arms remained securely around him. Glistening baby blue locked with glossy [eye color], “I would never in life use you like that.”

Blinking tears away, the girl continued. “Then why are… you…?”

“Because you’re ethereal! [Name], my whole heart is in the palm of your hands!” The 2nd year pressed their foreheads together, still keeping his hands on her cheeks. “You make me feel confident in myself, in what I do, in the future… because I know your love will be here with me, because I know I can always count on you, because you make me look forward to another day.”

Thumbs brushed away little droplets. “You make me genuinely happy and excited to know what the future holds, with your brightness and light, your love and affection, your beautiful smiles and wonderful laughs, your intellect and those random facts of strange information you say at times!” He chuckled a little at that, remembering when you once told him about [obscure thing you love]. “I love feeling your warmth beside me, your body entwined with mine as we share passion, your softness hugging me whenever you embrace me, your smooth lips against mine, your lovely hands holding me when days turn blue, your tender touch when we’re alone… The love in your eyes whenever you look at me.”

Her lips formed a shaky smile, cheeks becoming warm with every compliment. “Oh, Azul… you sweet talker of my dreams~” Both giggled at the comment.

They looked into each other's eyes for a while longer before [Name] finally closed the space between them. Deep and intensely filled with love, their breaths were stolen once they parted, but their eyes returned to look at the one they loved once more.

“Do you wish to speak to a professional about this? I think my mother still has some psych therapy friends that can help.” The dorm head spoke first, still wanting to help his girlfriend as much he could.

It took some time, for she played with the idea a little, before she made up her mind and gave him an answer.

“I will always be here for you, my beautiful pearl, don’t ever doubt that.” They shared one more kiss before he led her back to his room to spend the night.

-- -- --

EVERY WORD THESE BOYS SAID: IT’S TRUE YOU ARE A WONDERFUL PERSON, AND PEOPLE ARE DELIGHTED TO HAVE YOU IN THEIR LIVES

May you live a long, happy life full of love 💖 

Thank you for your request, hope I interpreted it correctly (；・∀・) Hopefully this brings comfort to those of you who struggle with these doubts 💕

#March 2021 special #request pavilion #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #kalim al asim #kalim al-asim #kalim al-asim x reader #kalim x reader #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader #idia x reader #zack writes #soul cuddle #sips teras

[wonder-womans-ex]

Make a Promise

“Sirius,” Remus says, rolling onto his side to face the man beside him, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Shoot.” Sirius’s eyes stay focused on the ceiling above, but he smiles warmly. 

“Do you—well, you probably don’t remember, but when we lived together, before, in the flat with the piss-yellow walls and the floors that squeaked and the stove that never worked, I had a shoebox. Under the bed. And I never let you look in it.”

Sirius is quiet for a moment, then, “I remember.”

There were three things is the box. And I didn’t want you to see any of them, all for different reasons.”

“Why do I have the feeling you’re about to tell me what they were?” He’s teasing, but his eyes go soft when Remus replies, “Because you know me better than anyone.”

“The first thing,” continues Remus, “The one that took up the most space, was my registry papers. Documents of where I spent every full moon, what classification of werewolf I am, whether I’ve attacked anyone—that sort of thing. 

“Then there was a photo from first year. The one Peter took of James, you, and me after our first detention.” Sirius clenches his jaw, and Remus knows he’s thinking of their old friend. “For years, I thought I’d lost it, but then I was cleaning out the attic after my mum died, and there it was. And I kept it. Because in that photo, you’re looking at me like you looked at me after fifth year; like you look at me now. It just... amazes me, I guess, because we were eleven and we’d barely known each other a month, and already there was something there. I used to take it out, sometimes, when you were gone, and remind myself that what we had was real. It was... it was the only photo of you I didn’t burn.”

The silence envelopes them, heavy and painful, until Remus swipes a hand over his eyes. “Oh, fuck, I’m crying.”

“‘S’okay,” Sirius says, “so am I.”

“You know I love you, right? More than anything?”

“I know. I love you, too. Always and forever.”

Somewhere along the way, their fingers have twined together. Sirius, after giving Remus’s hand a reassuring squeeze, asks, “And the third thing?”

“The third thing in the box?” 

“Yeah.”

“A box.”

“A box. Inside a box.”

“That’s right.”

“How exciting.”

Remus rolls his eyes. “Shut up. What matters is what was inside the box.”

“What was inside the box inside the box?”

“You’re insufferable.”

“I try.”

“Do you want to know what was inside the box or don’t you?”

“Please, do tell.” The grin on Sirius’s face still does embarrassing things to Remus’s heart, even after all these years. “How about I show you, instead?” he says. 

Sirius nods. 

As he leans over to grab his wand from the bedside table, Remus takes a breath. No going back now. He performs a wandless summoning charm, looking anywhere but at Sirius. 

“So.” He snatches the box out of the air as it flies towards him. “I bought this our last Hogsmeade weekend of seventh year. And I meant to give it to you right after graduation, and then again when we bought the flat, and again when I found out James was planning on proposing to Lily, but things kept coming up and I kept putting it off, and eventually it was too late. So I’m giving it to you now.”

He stops. His lower lip is trembling. “Hold out your hands and close your eyes.”

Slowly, Remus presses the box into Sirius’s outstretched hands. “You can open your eyes now.”

Sirius does, eyelids fluttering, and his eyes fix onto what he’s now holding. He inhales so sharply it’s almost a gasp. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Probably.” Remus waits to see if Sirius is going to say something else. He doesn’t, so Remus goes on. 

“Padfoot,” he says, voice barely above a whisper, “you have known me since before I really knew myself. You taught me I matter; I deserve to be loved. You were the first person to find out what I was—what I am—and think no differently because of it. I have tried time and time again to find where I belong, and I never find that the answer is anywhere but with you.

“You are my world, Sirius Black, and it it because of you that I have the confidence to say I am yours. So I ask you, in the house of your awful parents who are probably rolling over in their graves right now... will you marry me?”

Sirius nods, the tears in his eyes spilling over. “Yes. Abso-fucking-lutely yes.”

And now they’re both crying, and they’re kissing each other on the cheek, the forehead, the mouth. Neither of them has ever been happier. 

Finally, Remus pulls back, prying Sirius’s fingers back from around the box, “Aren’t you going to look inside?”

For reasons he can’t quite explain, Sirius hold his breath a he opens the lid, deep red velvet contrasting starkly against thin, pale fingers. A smile spreads across his face. 

The ring inside glints gold; the four tiny rubies set in the band catch the early morning light. “It’s beautiful,” breathes Sirius, grin lopsided where his lip is between his teeth. “Can you...?”

It takes Remus a moment to realize what his boyfriend—fiancee, he corrects himself with a surge of joy—means. “Yeah,” he manages, taking Sirius’s left hand in both of his own and sliding the ring carefully onto the fourth finger. They stay there, palm to palm, for a long time, trading sweet nothings and gentle, chaste kisses. 

“I’ve been imagining how you’d look wearing that ring for nearly seventeen years,” Remus is saying when there’s a sharp knock on the door.

“Breakfast!” Both men look up when Molly’s shout rings down the hallway, neither speaking until she’s moved on to the next door. 

“Our first meal as engaged wizards,” Remus says, pulling Sirius to his feet. “C’mon.”

They wait, giggling and smiling at each other, until they’re sure everyone else has gone down, and then they race to to stars, still holding hands. They slide down the banisters, too; it’s like they’re sixteen all over again. 

At the first landing, Remus stops to push Sirius against the wall. “We’re getting married,” he murmurs into the kiss, and he feels Sirius smile against his lips. 

At the second landing, Sirius brings Remus’s hand to his face, pressing his mouth to each knuckle. 

They don’t stop on the third landing, but they do on the stair after it. Sirius almost falls over as he turns, one foot catching himself on the step below. 

“Can I take your last name?” His eyes are shining. 

Remus says, solemnly, “It would be my honour,” and they laugh again. 

The dining room does not go quiet when they enter. They make no grand enterance. Everyone else continues with their noise and clutter until Harry looks up from his game of chess; he nudges Ron, sitting opposite him, and both boys wave. 

Sirius glances sideways, catching Remus’s eyes. He raises an eyebrow.

Harry grins when Sirius sits down next to him. “Morning,” he yawns. “Ron’s checked my queen.”

“Good for him.”

Ron opens his mouth to say something, but Sirius never finds out what. With a flick of her wand, Molly has set out the silverware—it’s stainless steel, technically, so it doesn’t hurt Remus—and the plates, steaming with porridge. 

“Go on, eat,” she urges loudly, pouring out a cup of tea. “Don’t let it get cold.”

There’s a flurry of movement as everyone claims their place at the table. Remus ends up between Arthur Weasley and Sirius; he has to keep his elbows tucked in so as not to knock over anyone’s morning coffee. Across from him, Tonks is putting her metamorphagus skills to use, her Dumbledore imitation in particular sending Ginny into fits of laughter. 

He nearly burns his tongue on the first bite of porridge. Through the pain in his taste buds, he notices it’s quite good, and makes a mental note to compliment Mrs. Weasley on the recipe. Anyone who can make oats and water taste good, he reasons, is worthy of whatever praise falls their way. 

To his right, Sirius takes a thoughtful sip of his tea. They catch each other’s eyes and smile. 

Glancing around, Sirius sees that everyone is once more engrossed in conversation. Fred Weasley in particular is gesticulating wildly with his spoon, and Sirius has to duck to avoid a flying bit of porridge. Absentmindedly, he twists the ring on his finger around, rubbing his thumb over the four jewels. 

His chair almost topples over when he leans back in it, grabbing an antique crystal goblet from the shelf behind him. He takes the sugar tongs from the table, too, and then he stands up. 

Even with the ding ding ding of silver on crystal, it takes almost ten seconds for just one person—aside from Remus, of course—to look up. Hermione holds his gaze for a moment before leaning over and whispering something in Ginny’s ear. By the time he’s got everyone’s attention, he’s begun to contemplate sitting back down again. 

But, finally, there’s silence, and all twelve pairs of eyes in the room (minus his own, obviously) are on him. 

Sirius clears his throat. He resists the urge to climb on top of his chair, because a broken neck would not be a good start to his engagement. 

“Good morning!” he announces. “I, uh, I have news. Good news.”

Dear lord, he used to be a lot better at this. From somewhere down the table, there’s a mutter of, “Well, get on with it, then.”

Skipping the rest of the preamble, he allows his face to split into a smile. “We’re getting married.”

There is none of the happy amazement he expected. He receives no applause. What he does receive are slow blinks and confusion written on every face except his own and Remus’s. It’s Molly who eventually says something, and what she says is, “Congratulations! If you don’t mind me asking... who’s the lucky lady?”

Now it’s Sirius’s turn to be confused. “You mean... you didn’t know?”

“Know what?”

“Bloody hell.” He isn’t sure whether he should laugh or cry. “I thought we made it obvious enough.”

“Well, clearly you didn’t!”

“How much do we need to broadcast it for you to see what’s right in front of you? How often should we hold hands at mealtimes? During Order meetings? Do you want us to take down the silencing charms on the bedroom, too, so you can hear everything we say, everything we—mmph.”

Sirius is cut off when Remus stands up, grabs the back of his head, and smashes their lips together. Between all those times back at Hogwarts, and now this, it seems it truly has become a trend—Remus shutting him up by sticking his tongue in Sirius’s mouth, that is. 

They break apart far too soon for Remus’s liking, but they do have an audience, after all. He can imagine without looking the expression on Molly’s face, and his imagination is proved correct when he turns away, sliding his fingers down Sirius’s arm to clasp their hands together. “That should answer your question,” he says before anyone has the chance to pick their jaw up off the floor. 

It’s been silent for a while—or, at least, it feels that way; the grandfather clock by the opposite wall shows only thirty seconds have passed—when Sirius realizes they’re still standing. “Excuse us,” he says, and pulls Remus out of the room. 

Out in the hallway, they stare at each other for a few moments before bursting out in laughter. “Oh my god, Remus,” Sirius wheezes. “Oh my god. That was fucking incredible.”

Remus covers his eyes with one hand. “It was spur of the moment, okay? Bloody hell, that was—”

“Unbelievably attractive? Absolutely iconic?”

“So embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing for you, maybe. But that right there? That’s why I love you.”

“What, not my dazzling personality?” 

Sirius grins, leaning in. “Well, yeah, that too. And your gorgeous golden eyes, and your genius mind, and you smile that always makes me melt inside, and—”

“Okay!” yelps Remus, because he knows Sirius too well. “I get the idea!” His gaze is soft, though, and when Sirius reaches up to cup his cheek in one palm, he leans into the touch. 

Eventually, someone—Tonks, or Harry, or one of the Weasleys—will come to find them, demanding explanation. But for now?

It’s just them. 

And despite everything—despite who they’ve lost and what they’ve been through—they have each other. 

#HAPPY BIRTHDAY REMU #remus lupin #sirius black #wolfstar #remus x sirius #*dude from the princess bride voice* mawwidge #grimmauld place #slight accidental molly weasley bashing #I didn't mean it I swear #cw food mention #cw implied spicy stuff #ig #proofread like once and only barely #so sorry in advance for the typos #again: it's Remus's birthday #good for him

[luminnara]

The Dismemberment Song | BOP Victor Zsasz x Reader | 18+

Fandom: Birds of Prey

Words: 3,791

Summary: Zsasz takes a liking to one of the burlesque dancers at Roman’s club.

PART ONE | PART TWO |

WARNINGS: graphic blood/gore/violence, reader may or may not torture and murder a guy, alcohol, all that good Gotham stuff, reader is kinda fucked up

Seriously, don’t read this if you don’t like blood

Based on The Dismemberment Song by Blue Kid! 

This is written as a kinda vague fem!reader, but if there’s interest I can always write alternate versions for different genders, more specific body/personality types, or whatever else might tickle your fancy! Just hit up my ask box!

Requests are open!! Pls, I really wanna write more Zsasz or Zsaszmask x reader, gimme ideas!

The Black Mask was a club that boasted only the best of the best. Top shelf booze, luxurious furnishings, and entertainers that Gotham’s other club owners wished they could get their hands on all came together to form the East End’s trendiest spot. You were lucky enough to be one of those very entertainers, and you had been performing onstage at Roman’s club ever since one of his goons saw you dancing at another spot across town. Roman Sionis had bought you easily, promising a good nightly wage and all the free drinks you could stomach, and a few years later, you were still enjoying the nice gig at the Black Mask. 

Most nights were the same; you showed up around seven, hung around in the dressing room with the others while you all got ready, and enjoyed a drink or two before your first number. You were always in the chorus, not that you really minded--Roman paid you more than enough to keep you happy, even though you knew the stars got more. Girls who did solo numbers, especially if they could sing, those were Mr. Sionis’s favorites. You never really expected to achieve that kind of status, not when people like Dinah Lance were around and holding his attention, so when Roman pulled you aside one night to tell you that he wanted to give you the chance to do your own routine, you nearly dropped your drink. 

“Full creative control,” he said, a hand resting at the small of your back as you gaped at him. 

“I--what?” you managed to choke out. “I-I mean, thank you, Mr. Sionis, really--”

“Please,” he chuckled. “Call me Roman.”

“Thank you, Roman,” you smiled, swallowing down your fear. “I won’t disappoint you, I swear.” 

“I know you won’t, doll.” he motioned for someone to bring him a drink. “Full creative control, like I said. I want to see what’s swirling around in that pretty mind of yours. Put some heart into it for me, k doll?”

You nodded. “You got it, boss.”

He grinned, hugging you to his side and pressing a kiss against your temple like he did with all the girls he liked. “Looking forward to it, beautiful.”

He let you go, turning to leave, and Zsasz slunk after him, but not before casting you an almost annoyed look. 

“Don’t disappoint,” he teased, whistling low before he followed his boss. 

You gulped. You were sure he wouldn’t mind peeling your face off, but you rather preferred staying alive.

“I won’t!” you called after him bravely. 

He glanced at you over his shoulder, his eyes practically boring into you as if were sizing you up. He thought you were just some prissy little girl, didn’t he? Just like Roman, just like everybody else. But you would show them. They wanted to see what kind of shit really ate at your brain? Oh, you’d give them a nice little glimpse.

And so, only a couple shorts weeks later, here you were, getting ready in the dressing room like usual, only you were far more nervous than you had been for any other shift. You had busted your ass getting everything ready, even taking a few nights off to work twice as hard on what you hoped would be a good debut. You had given the band their sheet music, you had learned your lyrics inside and out (because you were absolutely determined to go that extra mile for Roman Sionis and show him that not only could you prance around onstage, but you could sing, too), and you had spent hours upon hours hand-decorating an old corset and lingerie set you had sitting around. Roman wanted this to come from the heart, he wanted a passion project, and you were gonna give it to him. 

You just had to pray that he was in the right mood to enjoy it.

“Think you’re good to go, my love,” the house mom said as she finished with your hair. 

You stared at yourself in the mirror. So far, so good...your hair was in big barrel curls, still warm to the touch as your house mom gave it a couple more passes with the hairspray for good measure. 

“You sure I don’t need--”

“You’re gonna knock ‘em dead,” she interrupted, retreating to her usual chair. 

You kept staring at your reflection. “Do you think it’s too much? I mean...”

She laughed loudly. “Hon, this is Gotham. There’s no such thing as too much.”

Glancing down at your outfit, you weren’t so sure. “But...”

“But nothing. Now go on, go show Roman why he stays in business.”

You stood on shaky legs, nodding to her as you made your way towards the door. “R-right.”

“Break a leg,” she called after you. 

All you could do was nod. You knew what you were doing. You had practiced for hours every day to get ready for this. With a deep breath, you made your way down the hall leading to stage, shaking your hands out as you stood in the wings. You could do this. You were ready.

As soon as your stage name was announced, you stepped out, ruby encrusted heels clicking against the wooden floorboards. The lights were harsh, the crowd quiet as you came out to face them. The stage was set for you, a few props already waiting for you as you stood there, ready for the music to start.

Then, the band began playing, and you sprang into action.

“Hold still, my sweet. I’m tryin to measure the space between your molar and your jaw...” You sang, lunging forward to grab the medical-grade calipers sitting in a metal bucket for you. You trailed them down over your victim’s jaw, smiling as you did so. “...This caliper, no cause for fear. No it...it doesn’t hurt, it only helps me measure how much skin you have...”

Across the club, Zsasz looked up. He was standing near Roman, his boss sitting in a booth while he chatted with some business associates. He was far more interested in you than their conversation, his dark eyes tracking you as you moved across the stage. He was absolutely enthralled by your outfit, your tightly-laced corset covered in blood red rhinestones that glimmered under the stage lights, your matching bra and thong shining just as brightly. You looked like you were covered in blood, the gems catching his eye in a way he hadn’t expected. 

“--and the topmost layer of fat, but I won’t make an incision till you’re nice and numb...” There was an operating table on the stage, where one of Roman’s lowest-ranking goons was tied down. If Zsasz remembered correctly, this guy had fucked up pretty monumentally recently, so seeing him strapped down and struggling brought a grin to his face.

You ran over to the man, the crowd laughing as you leaned across him. “...Oh, and laughing gas can be so much fun, please don’t doubt my decision...”

The scene you had set was both comedic and sexual. In all honesty, Zsasz hadn’t expected you to do anything like this; you were a chorus girl, someone he had thought would go for something overdone and classic. Maybe some old school stupid, annoying, Singin In The Rain type shit, yet there you were, dressed in an outfit that was obviously meant to emulate dripping blood while you flitted around a man on a gurney. 

Zsasz couldn’t look away. 

“This’ll be ooh, this’ll be ahh, this’ll be absolutely whee!” you squealed, teasingly pressing your sawblade to the goon’s torso. “This’ll be nice, this’ll be neat and bring you closer to me...”

You grabbed the goon as he struggled against his restraints, holding him down. Zsasz was sure the man was in on your little number, and he thought it was cute; you were pretending to be some sort of killer, maybe trying to appeal to Roman’s face peely urges. Maybe you were trying to make the boss happy by scaring his lackey like this.

“So don’t you squirm, don't you fret, I'm not gonna hurt you...yet.” You grinned, leaning down before you shoved the man’s face to the side, letting him go as you ran back across the stage. “I just feel the need to be gettin’ a little of you, a lot of blood lettin’, I know the sensation you’re probably dreading...”

You pranced back to the gurney, moving with that little extra theatrical oomph that made everyone think you were just playing. You smiled as they clapped and laughed loudly. They would figure it out soon enough. 

“Cutting you up will be so refreshing for me...” you cooed, discarding the calipers in favor of a scalpel. You traced it down the goon’s bare chest, a little line of blood following the blade as it pierced his flesh. 

He let out a scream, just as you hoped he would, and you gave his little table a shove, sending it wheeling a short distance away. 

“Now don’t you cry,” You sang, “And don’t call Miriam, she’s my alibi...oh let me check your toes out!” You picked up a set of pliers, taking hold of his big toe. “Aren’t your toenails cute?” you grabbed one and pulled, the goon screaming as you removed the nail, leaving a bloody pulp behind. “...and red is such a lovely color on you!” you leaned down in his face, grabbing the opposite foot’s big toenail and yanking. “...But you won’t be needing those!”

Roman began clapping, giving a loud “Whoo!”  as he watched you. He had no idea that when you had asked him for the name of his least favorite henchman, this would be the reason. Now, watching the man suffer onstage in front of everyone while you were dancing around him in six inch heels and a scandalously skimpy outfit, Sionis was more than entertained. He was impressed, absolutely astounding by the cruelty his little burlesque dancer held inside of her. He couldn’t have hoped for more. 

“When you’ve got no knees!” you sang, dropping your weapons in favorite of a crowbar. “...Or shins, or pinky fingers, or arteries....”

You brought your weapon down on each of the man’s legs, somehow still managing to poise yourself perfectly as you did so. You gave him a few good whacks, then dropped the bar, leaning down to pick a knife up out of the bucket and run it over his hands teasingly. 

“...so hold still while I remove them!” you trilled. 

The man tried to sit up, struggling against his restraints, but you shoved him back down with a sweet smile. 

“...Oh, and don’t fight back,” you sang, hopping up to sit next to him. “I think you’ll find you’re missing the point, with that.”

Meanwhile, Victor Zsasz was grinning, showing off his gold teeth while he watched you. He kept a close eye on your hips as they swayed, his trained eyes following your ass as it moved across the stage. Were you really carving a man up right then and there? He wanted it to be true. He wanted to smell the overwhelming tang of blood as you plunged a knife into your victim. But he was too far away, and so he had to settle for watching instead. 

Your victim tried to scream, and you shoved his head to the side playfully. 

“That’s enough outta you!” you sang, holding his jaw tightly.

As you repeated your chorus, your knife returned to the man’s flesh and he grunted in pain, pleading to an audience that didn’t care about him. The Black Mask was a fucked up place for fucked up people, no matter how trendy it was, and nobody in the audience was going to protest when someone was torn apart onstage. Besides, Roman Sionis was far too powerful for the GCPD to go after, and as you heard him laughing loudly in the audience, you had a pretty good feeling that he wasn’t going to send anyone after you for carving somebody up in a way that only you could.

You kept going, peeling your underbust corset off with the same grace and dexterity that Zsasz peeled faces with. As you stood in only your bra, thong, garters and stockings, you felt exhilarated, powerful, as if you had been born to cur people up in front of an audience. 

It’s not like this was your first time chopping a body up, anyways; there was a reason you had to move to Gotham and get a new gig, after all.

Zsasz watched you. In fact, his eyes were glued to you, even when Roman walked away to chat with a few mob bosses in a nearby booth. Were you seriously killing this man right in front of everyone? Victor didn’t necessarily care for all the theatrics, but he could appreciate how seriously you took you took your craft, and he had to admit, he was surprised that this was what you had come up with when Roman told you to give him something good.

“‘Cause I’m all out of hurt, you’ve used up all I’ve got,” you taunted, sneering down at your victim as you brought your saw down on his leg. “So I’m chopping you up and still coming up squat! If I want it to bleed, I’ll just roll up my sleeve and saw and saw and saw...”

The blade cut back and forth, and Zsasz’s eyes followed it. Blood was spurting up, drenching your arms as if you were wearing red opera gloves. 

“And saw, and saw, and saw, and saw....”

“Zsasz, can you believe this?” Roman asked, leaning towards him.

“No, boss,” Zsasz said with a little grin, shaking his head. 

“She’s good. We may have to give her a new job...”

You paused, giving your victim a break as you tossed the saw back into the bucket, drops of blood spattering across the stage as you pulled out a large butcher knife. Before it could touch Roman’s henchman, you used it to flick open the clasp on your bra, tossing the thin little piece of lingerie out into the crowd. You didn’t really care where it went; you were too busy enjoying yourself. 

“This’ll be ooh, this’ll be ahh, this’ll be absolutely whee,” you purred, trailing the blade down the side of the man’s face. “This’ll be nice, this’ll be neat and bring you closer to me...”

“So don’t you squirm, don’t you fret, I’m not gonna hurt you, oh no, no, no, not...yet.” you plunged your blade into his chest, between two of his ribs, not close enough to knick his heart but definitely deep enough to cause him immense pain despite all the adrenaline that was sure to be running through his system now.

You pulled the knife back out, blood dripping off the metal blade as you held it tightly and pranced back across the stage. “I just feel the need to be gettin’ a little of you, a lot of bloodletting, I know the sensation you’re probably dreading but there’s one thing you’re forgetting...”

Turning back to him, you brought the blade to his throat, and in the crowd, Zsasz’s eyes lit up. He was delighted. He was enthralled. His pants were getting a little tight, but whatever. The rest of the audience was gazing up at you with wonder, disgust, amusement...but Zsasz was absolutely admiring the way you so confidently played with your victim. The theatrics were starting to grow on him, he decided, and he wanted nothing more than to go right up there and lick all that blood off your face.

“There’s nothing like the thrill of a shredding,” you sang, almost snarling, “but this is no orthodox beheading...”

You destroyed the man on the gurney, carving through him, drenching yourself in blood in an almost comical way. 

“Cutting you up,” you sang as you made an absolute mess. “Cutting you up...”

“Cutting you up is gonna be....” you finally stepped back, catching your breath as the song slowed. “...so refreshing for me.”

As your routine finished, you took a little bow, still holding the knife as you crossed your ankles and bent at the waist in a delightfully fancy gesture. The man on the gurney was very much dead, blood dripping down onto the stage, and the audience was still eating up every second of it. You could hear Roman cheering, and as you spotted him standing there amidst the crowd with Zsasz at his side, you blew them both a little kiss. 

“How about that?” you heard Roman’s voice boom above the clapping as you strode offstage. “I would call for an encore, but unfortunately, I think we’d need a new victim....”

Your head was still abuzz with the rush of killing, and you walked back to the dressing room in a daze. You were vaguely aware of Dinah Lance wrinkling her nose as you passed her, but you didn’t pay her any mind. Absolutely nothing could kill your good mood now. 

“Well?” the house mom asked as you made your way to your mirror. “Sounds like it went well, judging by those cheers...”

You smiled and hummed to yourself, nodding as you reached for something to clean your face with. You were going to need an entire shower to get all this blood off yourself. 

“Told you.” the house mom snorted a laugh. 

“He loved it,” you grinned. 

She shook her head in amusement. “You are one fucked up girl, I’ll tell you that much.”

“That’s showbiz, baby,” you joked, raising a towel to start working at wiping your face. 

“Oh, pussycat?” a singsong voice made you freeze. 

You could see Zsasz in the mirror. 

He was leaning in the doorway, smirking as he watched you. “Boss wants to talk.”

You paled. Had you fucked up after all? Did Roman get his shits and giggles and now planned on having Zsasz peel your face off? Sionis was infamous for his fickle moods. You’d watched him have plenty of people dragged off into back rooms just for speaking at the wrong time, and you had just done way worse than interrupt him. 

 You gawked at Zsasz, still staring at his reflection. What were you supposed to do? Run? He was blocking the only door, and there was no way you’d be able to get past him. You had no choice but to follow him to Roman. 

“O-Okay,” you managed to stammer out, finally turning towards him. “Lead the way.”

“Might want this.” he held up the bra you had tossed, twirling the strap around his finger while he gave you a smile that showed off his gold teeth.

“Give me that!” you snapped, rushing towards him.

“Ah.” he held it above his head, leering down at you. “Think I like this view more...”

“Zsasz!” you protested, scrambling against his chest and practically trying to claw your way up him to get your lingerie. 

He froze. He finally smelled the metallic tang of all that blood covering you, and coupled with the feeling of your tits against his chest...oh, he was so fucked. 

When he dropped the bra, you grabbed it from him, tossing it back to your mirror and moving to pick up a silky red robe off a nearby hook. You shrugged it on, tying it shut while Zsasz cleared his throat and offered you his arm. 

“Such a gentleman,” you sneered, taking it anyways. 

“When I want to be.” his voice was low and rough, as if his vocal chords were scraping against each other with every syllable. 

You looked up at him, a bit dumbfounded, as he led you out into the club once more. The band was playing as a few people cleaned up the carnage you had left behind, the bar’s patrons all chatting and drinking again. It was as if nothing had even happened and they hadn’t just watched a man be torn apart onstage a few minutes prior. 

Zsasz took you to Roman, the crowd parting before the two of you easily. Sionis was sitting in his favorite booth, sipping his drink and laughing, still seeming to be in a very good mood.

“Ah, there she is!” He said when he saw you, standing up and spreading his arms.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” You asked nervously as Zsasz let you go.

“Yes, yes, I had Mr. Zsasz grab you so that I could congratulate you on a thrilling performance.”

You stared at him. “You liked it?”

“Liked it? I loved it, darling! A bit messy for my tastes, but a lovely show, truly, though I suspect our dear Mr. Zsasz here wishes he could have been the one to take care of your victim. Isn’t that right, Zsasz?”

You glanced up at Zsasz. He grunted, not necessarily in agreement. He didn’t hate watching your performance by any means, and as much as he enjoyed helping little birds fly away from the world, he rather enjoyed watching you do it, too. 

“I’m glad, Mr. Sionis,” you said. 

“I told you, call me Roman.” he took a sip of his drink. “You know, normally, I don’t enjoy it when someone kills the people that belong to me, but I must admit, you certainly have a way with a knife.”

“I would have asked your permission, but I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.” you gulped. 

“And what a lovely surprise it was!” Roman laughed loudly. “You’re very talented...in fact, how’d you like a promotion? Yes? Perfect, perfect! No, no, don’t shake my hand, you’re...well, you’re covered in blood. Quite frankly, it’s disgusting.” He snapped his fingers. “Mr. Zsasz, take her up to the penthouse so she can clean up, I don’t want all this blood getting on the new carpeting in here.”

“Oh, Mr. Sio--Roman,” you cleared your throat, “I can use the shower in the dressing room, really, it’s no trouble--”

“Nonsense, nonsense.” he waved you away. “You’re part of the team now, aren’t you? Besides, a job well done deserves some sort of reward. Zsasz will show you upstairs. Don’t worry, he’s completely harmless.”

As Zsasz put a hand on your lower back, you had your doubts. Harmless wasn’t really a word you would choose to describe Roman’s right hand man. 

“Come on, princess.” Zsasz purred, guiding you through the crowd before you had much of a chance to protest. 

He took you to the elevator in the corner, the bouncer standing guard in front of it stepping aside with a nod. The man hit the up button, and soon, you were pressed up against Zsasz in the small space, on your way up to Roman’s spacious penthouse. 

#victor zsasz x reader #zsasz x reader #victor zsasz #bop zsasz #birds of prey zsasz #birds of prey imagine #birds of prey x reader #birds of prey #dceu #dceu imagine #dc imagines #dc imagine #dc x reader #gotham #chris messina imagine

[h1stor1a]

crush culture (makes me wanna spill my guts out). iwaizumi hajime

» genre: crush! au, angstish? but not really.

» synopsis. having a crush on a girl just wasn’t Iwaizumi’s thing, that is. 

𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑬𝑺. thank you so much to all the people who have followed me wth i will literally kill for everyone of you !!

Iwaizumi couldn’t say he was in love, it felt wrong, to some extent. 

He found himself searching for you at games first, then it switched to his mind silently seeking for you in the school hallways. He tried to convince himself that it was only because you looked pretty and he enjoyed the smell of your hair whenever you ran across from him. 

But God, he hadn’t even ever spoken to you, how could he feel something for you? It was best if he tried to suppress the speed-beating of his heart and the ruby colour of his warmed-up cheeks. 

“Is it her, again?” Hanamaki nudged him as they both stood up. The gym smelled of rotten food and men’s sweat, something Iwaizumi wasn’t too much a fan of. 

“What?” he bit back, snapping his head to the side like a deer caught in headlights. Hanamaki laughed his heart content out loud, making Oikawa turn around and smirk their way. If he hadn’t been too interested in the couple of girls in front of him, milking the shit out of his pretty face, he would’ve joined the conversation. 

“The med student” Hanamaki leaned his chin towards you once his fit of laughter had come to an end. Iwaizumi’s cheeks turned a bright shade of pink, making him feel even hotter than the practice had made him feel — sticky sweat was running down his neck like the blood in his veins and he just wanted to go home and have a gelid shower. 

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about” Iwaizumi muttered under his breath, trying to sound as convincing as possible. He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince, Hanamaki walking a step behind him or himself. 

There were days - especially in his most boring classes - in which he really thought to himself that having a crush on you wasn’t that bad. Every nineteen year old had crushes on someone, whether they were random celebrities or the one girl that enjoyed hanging around their friends. In Iwaizumi’s case, you were the latter. 

He had seen you so many times waiting for his team’s manager, or even just bringing food for the girls’ team — he had even seen you talking tenderly with Oikawa, for God’s sake, and he knew it would have been so easy to ask his friend to introduce him to you but then what? 

“Hey, I’m Hajime Iwaizumi and I’ve been watching you for almost an year now” that sounded ridiculously creepy even in his own head. 

So Iwaizumi recently started coming to the realisation that he just shouldn’t have kept fantasizing about you and small, random dates anymore. He should’ve just gone on with life and let you live yours. 

“Are you sure about that, Iwa-?” Hanamaki tried to intercept his thoughts, but without reaching his goal as his friend didn’t even bother to acknowledge him. 

Iwaizumi’s eyes diverted to you, sitting on the benches, for a moment. After almost two hours of sitting there, with a boring-looking book in your hands, you looked spent and tired — a look that completely dissolved as soon as your eyes seemed to meet Iwaizumi’s and you perked up on your seat. 

The boy felt his heart first drop to the floor and then jump back in his chest, starting to beat like crazy. Wait… were you weaving at him? It couldn’t be real. 

Iwaizumi faintly heard Hanamaki’s surprised sound, him too not quite understanding. Last time he had checked, his friend hadn’t even ever spoken to you once. 

The smile on your face was too obvious though, you were smiling their way — Iwaizumi’s specifically. You jumped on the balls of your feet, pushing the book you had been reading deep into your gray backpack that the boy found so unreasonably adorable. Your other hand was weaving to no specific direction. 

Feeling like he could have passed out at any given moment, Iwaizumi raised his hand mid-air with the intent of saying hello back. Maybe you had recognised him as one of Oikawa’s friends, so he wasn’t going to let the opportunity go. 

Yet, a voice behind him cut his smile in half. 

“Y/N!” someone called, “I’m sorry for making you wait” a small girl with blonde hair chuckled, running right by Iwaizumi (who had frozen on the spot). Your eyes followed her, smiling brightly once she had you in her arms. 

Iwaizumi felt a wave of shame hit him right in the face, turning his precious cheeks into blood-red ones. Of course, you were waving at someone behind him. 

“Shit” Hanamaki cleared his throat, his free hand reaching Iwaizumi’s hand that was still held mid-air, pushing it down, “Anyways, what about chinese food tonight?”

#iwaizumi fanfic #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #iwaizumi x you #haikyuu headcanons #hq x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu soft hours #haikyuu fluff #iwaizumi scenarios #iwaizumi soft hours #haikyuu imagines #iwaizumi imagines #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu x you