#chalk hill figures | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fbfh · 1 year

Text

rodrick x hyperfeminine reader hcs

wc: 2.3k

genre: mutual pining, contrasting aesthetics

pairing: rodrick x hyperfeminine reader (fem/she her/referred to as a girl)

summary: you're new at school and it takes a painfully long time for you to find the only hot guy there. he's had a massive painful crush on you since you first set foot through the door.

warnings: reader is a little insecure/anxious and copes through hyperfemininity, rodrick has low self esteem and dyslexia, they both think they have no chance with the other one, jocks keep asking you out, you're friends with Heather and Madison

a/n: obsessed with this dynamic. when you finally date everyone is so fucking confused lmao

@dustyinkpages @the-snake-pit @yesv01

First of fucking all

Match made in heaven

On your first day of school at Crossland you turned a whole lot of heads

You figure you should make a statement and decide to channel your idol, Elle Woods

You show up to school in a pink mini skirt blazer set, a little halter top with a heart cut out, and matching pink heels

You’re obviously rocking your signature scent, strawberry pound cake body spray and matching strawberry fizz flavored lip gloss

You did a mani pedi and a facial over the weekend to destress

You walk in quickly to avoid the people that are staring at you for some reason, unintentionally strutting through the halls in a way that appears totally confident

You reach the office to get your schedule and tuck it into your heart shaped bag along with your sunglasses

You make sure to smile and be extra friendly with all the teachers and administrative staff, and in every class where you have to introduce yourself over and over, you try to project what you hope is an approachable friendliness

People were already starting to whisper about the living barbie doll that just showed up out of nowhere, and these whispers reached none other than Heather Hills

She grabs Madison and tries to hunt you down

To confront you for trying to steal her place as the prettiest most popular girl there

Before she can threaten you, you’re asking her where the good boutiques in town are

You have such a unique, sunshiney charm that she totally forgets what she came to talk to you about

Before she knows it, you and her and Madison have plans to go shopping this weekend

You praise yourself for making a couple friends on the first day, not realizing you accidentally waltzed your way into the elusive popular girl clique

By the end of the day, you have entirely by accident established yourself as queen bee of the school

As time goes on, you’re relieved that at least some of the people at Crossland are so friendly

Sometimes people say hi to you, and you always reply with a smile or wave or hi back

But a lot of the time people just stare at you

You’re somewhat used to it since not a lot of people wear nearly as much pink as you do

Or glitter

Or use a fuzzy pink strawberry scented glitter gel pen for all their homework

So you try to chalk it up to that

As the days go on, everyone thinks they know exactly what to expect from you

You’re like Heather 2.0, just a little nicer

Which is almost worse

When Heather is mean to everyone she doesn’t like (which is almost everyone) at least they have a reason to hate her

But you??

You’re so elusive

You don’t have a ton of friends, you don’t go out of your way to go party unless Heather and Madison drag you there

But what’s weird is that you’ve turned down every guy who’s actually worked up the courage to ask you out

Every single guy at crossland wants to ask you out

But when the captain of the football team

And the quarterback

And the hottest guy in your grade all asked you out

And the whole school watched you politely turn them down one after the other

No one else thought they stood a chance

Heather and Madison think you’re crazy for turning them down

“I just… I’m not really into guys like that.” you say dismissively

“Hot jocks?” Heather demands

You would have said the type of guys who’d have bullied you in middle school, but now doesn’t seem like the right time to bring that up

“Yeah.” you agree, and eventually they stop pressing you

Your status of queen bee is even more solidified by the rumors rampantly spreading that not only are you unimaginably hot

But you’re also impossible to date

This becomes common knowledge after a while

Until one day when you’re running late to school

Heather’s still complaining about having to turn around and pick up her sister

“I mean, you were the one who forgot her at your house…” Madison starts, piping down fast when Heather glares at her

As you all get out of her convertible, tires screech behind you

A beat up white van with spray paint writing on the side parks haphazardly next to the curb

Muffled guitar and drums blast out of the car speakers, and as the driver opens the door, you recognize it as green day

Your eyes widen, and you lag behind to try and get a look at the driver

Heather’s ranting about something, and Madison grabs your arm, pulling you along as you watch the driver stumble out and trip on the curb

He has messy black hair, eyeliner, and he’s wearing a well loved ramones shirt

As if that wasn’t enough, he shoves the drumsticks he’s holding into his back pocket, poking out awkwardly

“Who is that?” you ask

Heather and Madison whip around, ecstatic that you finally found someone at school you think is hot

They scan the scattered crowd of other late students trying to make it inside before first bell

“Who?” Heather demands, looking straight past the guy at the captain of the football team who you’d turned down for the fourth time earlier this week. “Brent? You know Brent.”

A twinge of jealousy flashing through her voice as she finishes, desperate for more information

“No,” you say, pointing. “The guy who looks like Billie Joe Armstrong.”

“Who?” they both demand, still looking right past him

“Black hair, black shirt…”

Finally they see him

“Heffley??” Heather demands, holding back a gag at his name. “No, no, no. Not him, anyone but him.”

She shudders, pushing past both of you to go inside

You’re stuck in place, watching him greet his friends and laugh loudly as they shove each other hello

Madison leans in close

“That’s Rodrick. His god awful band ruined Heather’s sweet 16 and she’s still pissed about it. Going near him is social suicide.”

It suddenly makes sense that you haven’t bumped into the only hot guy at school yet

If you’re always with Heather and Heather avoids him like the plague…

Madison drags you inside, and you’re already trying to figure out a way to talk to him

Just because you didn’t know Rodrick exited before now, doesn’t mean he hasn’t been drooling over you since you showed up at Crossland

“Uh, dude… was she just staring at you?” Ward says once Madison finally drags you inside, forcing you to break your unwavering stare you had locked on Rodrick

He turns around quickly, looking for a more logical explanation for you looking in his direction as some football players walk past

“She must have been looking at Brent.” he decides

“No dude,” Ben punches his arm, “she was totally making eyes at you.”

They all laugh at the ridiculousness of the statement as he drags himself to his first class of the day

He can’t focus even more than usual

Were you staring at him? Making eyes at him like Ben had said?

He stares at the back of your head in all your shared classes, which is a lot of them, just like he always does

And just like always, his mind starts to wander

Of course he’s down stupid bad for you, he doesn’t know anyone that’s not

He wonders what you smell like, what you look like up close

He wonders what your hands would feel like on his body, if you’d drag your pretty manicured nails across his skin

He imagines kissing you in such vivid detail it feels real for a few moments

Then he starts to wonder what you’d taste like

Probably bubblegum, you usually chew it between periods when you won’t get in trouble for it

He wonders if your lip gloss is flavored

God, since the first day you showed up in this shithole he’s been thinking about you

He’s had countless dreams about you to

He always goes right back to sleep hoping he can see you again, feel your body against his, feel your lips on his skin one more time

He knows it’s hopeless, knows that even if you’ve seen him around and are vaguely aware of his existence, you don’t know his name

And why would you want to??

He’s such a teenage dirtbag he practically has rights to the song

Plus Brent is still determined to get you to go out with him

He considers himself your boyfriend already and has been threatening anyone who stares at you more than normal

Even if he could get past Brent and his own debilitating self doubt and low self esteem, you’re with Heather and Madison constantly, who still think he’s worse than mold after the incident and Heather’s sweet 16

You’re literally untouchable

Even still, he doesn’t think he’s ever had a crush this bad

Not even back when he liked Heather

The only way he can get through classes is by spacing out the whole time (his teachers expect nothing less of course) and imagining you marching right up to him and sitting on his lap to make out with him

The only notes he takes anymore are scribbled song lyrics about you until his hand cramps up and he gets one of those nausea headache he gets from trying to write or read too much

He thinks about you so much

It’s getting to the point where he’s thinking about you all the time

And he has absolutely no idea what to do about it

Because he doesn’t stand a chance

There’s no way in hell he could approach you, much less get you to go out with him

Plus you’ve literally turned down every guy that’s asked you out this year

Why would you want to go out with him???

Heather and Madison are wondering the same thing

You could easily pull anyone in this entire school

And now you’re making eyes at Heffley out of nowhere????

It doesn’t make sense

They can’t pay attention for the rest of the day

Neither can you

You spend the entire day trying to figure out how to talk to him (you could just walk over to him)

How to get his attention (you already have it)

How to set up the perfect scenario to make him fall for you (he fell hard and fast long before now and has not recovered)

A party

You have to throw a party and get his band to play

Then you can corner him after the show to buy a cd and see if you can get it to go somewhere

It’s perfect

Plus Heather’s been telling you that you should throw at least one party before the school year is over

You tell Heather you want to throw a party this weekend

She’s ecstatic, thinking you’re finally moving on to something better to focus on

She and Madison are so busy helping you get everything ready they don’t notice you staring at Rodrick in the halls every chance you get and never managing to get him to look over at you

You’re so busy throwing an elaborate rager of a party to try and seduce him like Jay Gatsby that you don’t notice him staring at you when you’re not looking too

You can’t let anything ruin your chance with Rodrick

Nothing can possibly go wrong

So when Brent asks you out again at lunch you turn him down more definitively than you have before

You tell him you’re just not into him like that, and to please stop asking you out

He’s never had someone tell him that they’re not attracted to him and want nothing to do with him

It was definitely a much needed blow to his self esteem

Rumors that you broke up with Brent (even though you weren’t dating in the first place) spread like wildfire

So after school when you manage to slip away from Heather and Madison for long enough to approach Rodrick and ask him and his band to play at your party this weekend

It feels like a fucking dream

Not only do they have a gig

But it’s at your party????

It feels fake

It feels like something his touch starved hormonal brain would concoct to distract him from what he should be thinking about

They start trying to figure out sets and extra practice time before your party

And Ben insists the whole time that you were making eyes at him

Except this time Rodrick kind of believes him

There’s no way this means he has a chance with you, right??

He watches you walk away

And as you walk away, you let out an excited suppressed giggle that you actually talked to him

You’re still flustered and blushing under all your makeup, fanning your warm face as you hop into the passenger seat of Heathers convertible

“What’s up with you?” she asks, noticing your distracted state

“I’m just… really excited for this party.” you smile, biting your lip

You don’t think about a thing other than him for the rest of the day

You decide this party really cannot come soon enough

If you play your cards right

You might even get him to like you back

You ruminate on this as you start picking out an outfit - in your signature pink, of course - completely unaware that Rodrick is already rehearsing for your party

And thinking about you just as much

#rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick x reader #rodrick #doawk x reader #doawk rodrick #rodrick x girly reader #you make him lose his shit #actively go bonkers for you

6K notes · View notes

plussizeficchick · 5 months

Text

Agora Hills | Eren x Chubby!Reader

Ahhh! It’s part 2 to The Weekend! I didn’t expect y’all to like the first part as much so I’m hoping this lives up to y’all’s expectations😂

Warnings: Mean!Eren (but really only to Mikasa and Historia) Pick Me!Mikasa and Historia (they will be dealt with) smut(cunnilingus, P in V, mentions of fingering, panty sniffing) not proofread (sorry y’all)

She felt like she was going to be sick.

How could he?

How could you?

She cried in your arms, she poured her heart out to both of you and this is what you do?

No.

It had to be you.

You must have tempted him, this was just some elaborate revenge for her talking to that one guy at Connie’s party a while back.

Because no way her Eren would be caught dead with you.

— —

Mikasa’s knees were ready to give way.

All throughout the day, you and Eren had been carefully avoiding her but it was time for your daily meetup at lunch with the rest of the group, so she’ll give you an opportunity to explain yourselves and if she’s willing, she’s open to forgiveness.

Oh how she wishes she’d have just skipped lunch.

She was seated next to Historia in the cafe, along with Armin, Jean and Connie awaiting the arrival of you both. She needed Historia for moral support, having told her of your treachery. Historia wasn’t nearly as upset as Mikasa had expected, but she chalked it up to shock because honestly, she was shocked too.

As soon as the doors to the cafeteria open, everyone’s head turns, the sight of Eren holding the door open for you coming into view.

He walks in after you, eyes raking over your figure as if he didn’t help you pick out your outfit for the day.

It was a simple halter top and mini skirt combo paired with some short, heeled sandals, but that wasn’t what brought the smirk to his lips.

No, it was the pretty gold anklet with his initials and the gorgeous emerald necklace that he’d paired with it that brought the smile to his face.

You looked so pretty with his claim on you.

You both saunter up to your friends, hand in hand, before Eren pulls out your seat for you, taking the one beside you for himself before you both engage in conversation with the guys.

“So, does no one see a problem?” Historia asks incredulously. Has she entered the fucking twilight zone?

Armin shrugs, doing a onceover of the table, “I don’t think so. Everyone’s here right?” He asks, getting a brief nod from everyone.

Not that you and Eren were paying attention. You both were too busy giggling amongst yourselves.

“Eren?” Mikasa squeaks out. She couldn’t believe that after all this time, he’d just throw her away. And for you of all people?

Oh no.

She’s worked too hard, put up with too much to just let him go.

He begrudgingly looks away from you, his mood immediately dampening as he addresses her. “Yeah?” He sighs.

She ignores his disposition, wanting to know just what the fuck you two had going on. “Can I talk to you? Privately?” She grits out through clenched teeth. Eren rolls his eyes before turning his attention back to you, playing with the emerald pendant, “Nah, why? What happened?”

Mikasa blushes as everyone turns their gazes towards her, the tension palpable. “What happened? What happened, Eren, is you parading her around like she’s your girlfriend when we-” “When we what, exactly? Look Mikasa, you’re a nice girl but (Y/N)’s different. She makes me feel some type of way whenever I’m with her. We just click in a way that you and I never could.” He cuts her off.

Her heart breaks, tears threatening to fall when she casts a glance at her friends, but the way they avert their eyes has her stomach dropping further. “You guys knew?” She barely manages to get out.

Connie and Jean mumble affirmations, but Armin stutters out a reply, “But not for that long, Mikasa!” He squeaks out, however, Historia’s had enough, “That’s enough! Eren, you’re being cruel. You can’t possibly want her over me-Mikasa!” She exclaims. Eren snarls, his temper spiking. “I’m getting real tired of you guys talking about my girl like that, so I’m only going to say this once,” He grits out. “Being cruel is pretending to be Mikasa’s friend when you’ve been begging me to fuck you behind her back. Being cruel is telling me that Mikasa’s a pathetic bitch and that I can do better than her. And you know what? You’re right! And you’re fucking looking at her, so the both of you can fuck off out of my face.” He practically spits at her. Historia’s jaw drops and Mikasa just wants the earth to swallow her whole.

She rushes out of the cafeteria, Historia hot on her heels, spewing apologies. Eren turns to you, thumb brushing over your cheek softly. “You okay, baby?” He asks, pressing a brief peck to your lips. “Yeah, just not very hungry anymore.” You sigh. Eren frowns, but you’re sure to reassure him. “It’s not because of them, babe. Just wanna be alone with you right now.” You murmur, running your manicured hand along his arm.

He smirks, now eager to get you both out of there. “Hey, we’re gonna rain check on the lunch.” Eren announces to your friends. He helps you out of your seat, guiding you out of the cafeteria.

“He’s fucking whipped.” Connie jokes, gaining laughs from the two men.

— —

You both barely made it past the threshold of his dorm before you were on each other, tongues darting into each other’s mouths eager to gain dominance.

Eren presses you against the door, hiking you up to press his clothed cock against your cunt. “You don’t think anybody noticed, right?” He mumbles into your mouth, the taste of you too good to pull away from. “You fingering me under the table?” You ask. He nods, pulling back slightly to move his attention to your neck, the previous love bites fading to make room for new ones. You shrug, moaning as he sucks on a particularly sensitive spot, your panties dampening further as a result, “Who cares?”

Eren chuckles at your neediness, moving to press a searing kiss to your lips as he walks you both to his bedroom. He carefully placed you down, pulling back fully to look at you.

He doesn’t think you fully grasp the hold you have on him, but there’s plenty of time to convince you.

He moves to peel away the tight mini skirt and top you have on, your lacy thong being the only thing keeping him from your warm center. You whine for him to get undressed, the sight of his hard abs and tattoos causing your pussy to clench around nothing. He obliges you, removing his hoodie and jeans along with his boxers before he rejoins you on the bed.

He runs a finger over your soaking panties before pulling them down, strings of your arousal sticking to the small piece of cloth.

The next moment is hazy to the both of you, all Eren knows is that he’s not going to be able to go one day without your pussy on his face.

He dives in, his tongue immediately lapping up the juices that escaped from your slick hole before trailing up to your clit, sucking on the bundle of nerves. You whine, clit throbbing under his ministrations. He takes long, languid licks up and down the slit before flicking his tongue over the bud. You gasp as you cum with a shout, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

He’s faring no better, the way your thick thighs clamped over his head, squeezing him further into your cunt has him rutting against the sheets, the tip dripping pre. He pulls away when the need for air becomes necessary, taking in gulps of air while nuzzling into your fupa.

“You’re so pretty, baby. So fucking sexy.” He mumbles into the soft skin. You run your fingers through his unruly hair, the soft locks falling from your fingers. “Want you to fuck me, ‘Ren.” You whine out, aching to feel the length of him stretch you out. He complies, pressing kisses along your body before he presses a sweet kiss to your lips, the taste of you still dancing on his tongue.

He uses the kiss to distract you from the slight sting of his cock stretching your cunt. He hisses at the feel of your warm cunt wrapping around his cock, the slickness of your juices making the glide into you that much easier.

He sits up slightly, fucking into you as he reaches over you to grab something, groaning and cock twitching as he grabs his prize. You barely manage to look up to see your panties pressed against his nose, tongue laving over the damp patch.

You cry out at the sight, your pussy quivering as you pull him into a messy kiss, sucking his tongue into your mouth. You both whine into each other's mouths, declarations of love spilling from each other's lips as you both reach your high. You clamp down around Eren, your cunt gushing and clenching as you coat his cock in your essence and he fills you up, warm cum painting your walls white.

You’re panting, the exertion catching up to you both as you snuggle into each other, your fingers tracing over the tattoo with your name on it. You’re tired, but you know it’s only a matter of time before you’re at it again.

It’s a good thing neither of them could keep him satisfied.

— —

Taglist:@xogabbiexo @kinq-sleazee @dabilovesme @sintiva @blkchxrryblyss @tenyaiidasslut @luna-indigoduh @bookwormsenpai @bl--ankhaeji @thicksimpx @namjoonswifeyy @nasty-quillz @haikyutiehoe @musicisme333 @unsatisfiedanddisappointed @celi-xxmoon @jesus-son-of-god @you-need-namjesus

#anime x chubby reader #anime x reader #x chubby reader #anime x black!reader #x black reader #aot x black reader #aot x chubby reader #eren yeager x chubby reader #eren yeager x black reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x chubby reader #eren yeager x reader #x reader #chubby reader #x black!reader #attack on titan x black reader #attack on titan x chubby reader #attack on titan x reader

946 notes · View notes

art-that-fucks-you-up-tournament · 9 months

Text

SET FIVE - ROUND ONE - MATCH TWO

"Uffington White Horse" (c.1380-550 BCE) / Chauvet Cave Bear (30,000 and 32,000 BP)

UFFINGTON WHITE HORSE: its public landscape art, its from bronze or iron age and people still maintain it and this chain of people working together, even through the original purpose is lost, the art is not, the community aspect of it (anonymous)

CHAUVET CAVE BEAR: I'm not a very emotional person but there's something about prehistoric cave paintings that make me cry my eyes out. There are too many examples (please check out the Altamira cave bisons they're beautiful) but one that never fails to amaze me is the Chauvet Cave Bear. He's painting with so much care, he's only one of hundreds and thousands of paintings in this cave, many of them more detailed, colorful and dynamic than this guy, but there's something about the careful lines that the artist (bc prehistoric people were artists) put on this wall that touches me. It's put in a scene where he's hunted, he's alone, in a peaceful position, possibly rummaging through a bush. The anatomy is maybe even cartoony with its tiny ears and small mouth but it's realistic in all the ways that matter at that time, anybody could look at it and see a bear, the artist had to carefully watch this bear (or many bears) to memorize its lines, it's humps and structure and the scrounge up the materials to paint, and finally put to rock this animal they admired from a distance. The Chauvet Cave has thousands of cave bear remains, estimating 200 individuals. The cave also has a quarter of ALL cave bear depictions in pre-history. That means that whoever painted this bear not only saw one in the wild but lived alongside these animals their entire lives, their culture was deeply locked with them. There's a chamber in this cave with 50 bear skulls, all of them carefully placed. This painting shows so much care and love from people that are often depicted as brute and uncaring but they were just as capable as any current human of not only caring but DEPICTING their love. It's a beautiful early representation of our capability for admiration and cherishing things that weren't essential for basic survival. Also the artist was damn good that bear has so much expression without even having eyes, the line thickness balance is amazing. (athenasabattoir)

(The "Uffington White Horse" is a prehistoric hill figure created by trenches filled with crushed white chalk. It is 110 m (360 ft) long and is located on Whitehorse Hill in England.

The "Chauvet Cave Bear" is a prehistoric cave painting in the Chauvet-Pont-d'Arc Cave located in Ardèche, France. This cave contains hundreds of preserved figure paintings from the Upper Paleolithic time period. The central bear is 120 cm (47 in) and was painted using red pigment.)

#theyre looking at each other... in judgement... or admiration???#art that fucks you up tournament #polls #atfyu polls #id in alt text

395 notes · View notes

homomenhommes · 2 months

Text

The Cerne Abbas Giant is a 60 meter long hill figure made of chalk in Dorset, England. It was first documented in the 17th century but may date as early as 700-1000 A.D.

104 notes · View notes

draclula · 8 months

Text

“Magic and Desserts” lyney x f!reader

chapter 1

Summary: as Lyney is coming back from Caesar’s grave he hears something.

author’s note: the explanation is very vague but bear with me 🙏😭

word count: 1.1k

It was a late afternoon, Lyney had visited Caesar’s grave and was nearing the outskirts of Poisson. The scenery was quite nice. Birds were chirping, the sun was shining low near the horizon and the sky was warm orange tone. Everything was nice until.. he heard something.

A blood curdling scream and the sound of monsters nearby. Lyney ran to see what was happening. When he peered above the hill he saw the figure of a girl in her late teens that was struggling to sho away 3 hilichurls. He quickly drew out his bow and shouted “I will shoot them don’t move too much!”. You were crouching near a hazelnut tree, holding a thick branch in your hands that was somewhere near a meter. The hilichuls looked behind them to face the magician and that was your chance to slip away. He shot one of them in the head causing it to fall backwards dead. The other two monsters charged at Lyney, who was slowly taking some steps back *phew* another arrow was launched and killed the second hilichurl. And just when the third one was about to hit him *bonk* the monster laid unconscious on the ground. You have hit him with that thick branch of yours. “Are you alright?” you shakily asked. “Yes, are YOU alright?” he dropped his bow on the ground as he tried to keep you from falling on the ground. “I am fine, it’s…. the adrenaline..” you said trying to collect yourself from what just happened “ I’ve never done this before hah..” you smiled at him panting.

Lyney escorted you to your house in Poisson makeing sure everything was really okay before leaving you. “Please wait here for a moment.” you asked him and quickly ran inside your house. He stood there a as you walked back to him. “Here, a ‘Thank you’ present for saving me.” you said, handing him a lemon dessert. He looked stun for a moment and said “Oh no, please I couldn’t possibly take this!” “I insist. You save me from those hilichurls, Archons know what could have happened to me if you weren’t there! So please, take it.” you replied with a determined frown on your face. Lyney signed “Well I guess they’re really isn’t telling you ‘no’ then, but only if you do me a favour.” you cocked your head. “I want to see your smile.”. He smirked a bit after seeing your flushed face. “M-my smile?” you stuttered “Yes, as if you saw something very dear to you!” he instructed lightly. You lowered your gaze, seemingly spacing out a bit, before a soft smile appeared. “There it is! A young lady’s most powerful weapon is her smile, so please smile more.” His kind words were something else, but right when he was about to slip out. “Mister! Your lemon dessert!” “Nothing really escapes your eyes, huh.”.

“Freminet! Do you know where Lynette is?” Lyney asked his brother “I thinks she said she was going to the café. Didn’t she tell you?” Well she did but her dear twin was busy with training some new card tricks and couldn’t hear a thing. “Thank you!” He shouted and ran out, not hearing his question.

He was looking over at the tables to find Lynette which was honestly not so hard, but there was someone familiar near her.

“Sooo what do you think of this chocolate chalk dessert?” “Mmmm, it’s not too bad, you said that this recipe was from Sumeru, yeah?” “‘Too bad’?! What do you mean by that!” Lynette was talking to no other girl but you and you were… serving her a… dessert? “Well hello ladies!” Lyney greeted you both, pulled his hat down to his chest and bowed low. “Oh, hello brother.” Lynette said while you stood beside her. “What are you doing here? I thought you had to practice new card tricks.” Dumbfounded you asked “W-wait, you know each other?” the girl looked up at you “Such a foolish question, we are twins.” “You never told me you had a twin brother!” your jaw dropped almost to the floor. Lyney chuckled a bit “You are the hazelnuts girl if I am not mistaken?” your gaze moved to him “Ah, yes! I never introduced myself properly, my name is [name]. Nice to meet you mister…” you shifted your hand to shake his. Lyney was actually a bit surprised that you didn’t recognise him “Lyney, my name is Lyney, Madmoiselle.” He grasped your hand as he bowed just so he can kiss your hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”. Your face was bright red, no one has done this to you before and it felt… good, you felt giddy and appreciated. “Sadly though we have to part.” he let go of your hand and stood up, his eyes darting to Lynette who was actively trying to avoid him, slowly eating the dessert you made. “Come on Lynette, we have a rehearsal.” “Ah, can I at least finish my dessert?” she pleaded. Then you asked perplexed “A rehearsal? Are you actors? Or do you do doll theatres?” Just when the girl with a low ponytail was about to tell you that they do magic shows, her brother explained “Yes, you can say we are kind of like actors. We actually have a show coming up this Saturday, could you like to come and see it?”. He was up to something. “Oh, I could love to, but I don’t know if I will be able to. We usually have a large amount of customers in the weekends so I should not dare to make promises.” you apologised, sadness can be seen in your eyes. Lyney was not fazed by that response and instead reassured “Oh well, if you aren’t sure if you will be available, we can save you a spot in the front, just in case.” He winked and waited for a response. You couldn’t possibly refuse such an invitation, and after all, this was a perfect opportunity to de-stress a bit. “I can see what I can do!” eyes lit with fiery determination and brows in a slight frown. Lyney thought it was adorable. “[name] I need some help, quit the chit-chat please!” you heard your brother yell from behind the café counter. “I’m coming right up! Goodbye!” and off you go.

“Why didn’t you tell her we are magicians?” Lynette asked interested in what her twin had as an excuse. “Oh it’s not important! And, you know, I like the face of a surprise on my audience.” his smug half-lie could fool anyone, but not and her. “As you say..” the girl sighed and kept on walking alongside him.

“What did Mr. Lyney have to say to you?” Your brother looked at your back as you started walking off to the the back door. You turned around to face him “Wait, you know him too?”. “[name], what kind of a question is this? Who doesn’t know ‘Lyney, The Great Magician’?” he looked at you with crossed arms and a slight smile. “‘Lyney, the..’ no way.. THAT WAS LYNEY THE MAGICIAN??”

Tag list is open!

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin lyney #genshin impact lyney #fanfic #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney x y/n #lyney x girl reader #Lyney x f!reader #Magic and desserts

153 notes · View notes

foryiujeans · 1 year

Text

i wish you roses.

synopsis. a certain secret admirer alwavs leaves roses on your desk and at valentines, you had finally caught the person.

pairings. admirer!kim jiwoong x fem!reader.

warnings. swearing.

word count. 2k

general taglist. @forsobeans

“jiwoong, they gave me another!”

it was in first grade when you became friends with jiwoong. your teacher had given your class a seating plan and you'd been put next to him. you hadn't really spoken with jiwoong before that day, but you were generally a shy kid, usually opting to quietly colour during recess instead of going out into the playground.

he was one of the more boisterous kids in your grade, known for his visuals that swooned every female in the campus.

you remember the very first words jiwoong ever said to you, "that's a pretty drawing." he complimented, watching intently as you messily continued to scribble the green chalk as you coloured in the grass. you’d drawn an artificial yellow sun in the top corner of your page and a little red house on a hill in the middle with roses around it. a simple drawing, but one that you proudly gave effort to.

“another bouquet of roses?,” his voice beams from behind, gazing at the flowers in your hand, “i guess they really like you.”

“they’re so sweet.” you comment and hugged the bouquet to your chest.

jiwoong felt giddy inside seeing you so happy these fast few weeks. he couldn’t lie when he said he doesn’t have a crush on his best friend though that story is a bit cliché. him telling matthew he had no guts to confess, his friend suggested to just hinting and be secretive.

the flashbacks of him seeing you drawing roses for the first time came back and he had an idea of giving you flowers twice a week.

“i wish i could tell that how much i appreciate them.” placing them back in your locker and locking it.

the tall male beside you only hummed in response but was panicking inside. it has been exactly 24 weeks of him giving and wishing you roses, he wasn’t ready to be revealed.

he felt insecure to confess to you. you were absolutely an angel — perfect, friendly, popular, smart and active though he was the same, he felt that the love was all you. lecturers respected you and juniors, they look up to your kind actions.

while jiwoong was just an ordinary handsome man that plays that typical male character in the story. he plays basketball and is on the way on becoming a model for his good looks.

“hey y/n,” seeing a male from afar, he was waving at you with a small smile, “saw you holding roses, secret admirer huh?”

a scoff leaves your lips, “hey seunghwan, yes and i really really wanna find out who this is.”

“okay then i’ll help keep guard for your locker.”

that made jiwoong’s heart drop to the stomach in panic. he eyes seunghwan and you who were talking amongst each other and joking around. he swore he was going to pass out any moment but still kept his blank stoic-like face.

“i have to get to cinema club, see ya jiwoong, hwan!” you walked away, holding onto the books pressed to your chest.

jiwoong’s orbs followed your figure that was walking giddily to your specific location. he adored you. the way you spoke to him, the way you look at him, the way you always act kind and friendly towards others, the way your leadership brings everyone together and the way whenever he sees you, his smile just widens even more.

a hit on the chest made him caught off guard — seunghwan looking at the male suspiciously and eyeing him up and down with his hands in his pockets.

“you’re the admirer right?” the sudden question made jiwoong’s eyes widened in surprise.

then, the black haired male gripped the back of seunghwan’s collar, dragging his friend at an empty hallway that was gloomy and dark.

jiwoong pinched the bridge of his nose, “how’d you know?”

“i come early and see you slipping in a note and roses in y/n’s locker, matthew was with me but he didn’t say anything about it.”

the male was glad that his best friend didn’t spill anything about his plan or anything else about his crush on you. seunghwan knew about it since it was too damn obvious.

“listen,” seunghwan starts, “i wish you the best of luck but y/n’s a great detective so, be careful. wish you all the best man.”

and with that seunghwan walked away from him, him feeling his heartbeat had raised.

“281312”

it was another morning where kim jiwoong was placing another bouquet of roses in your locker. he was putting in the code of your birthday that was placed on the red locker, unlocking it smoothly.

he puts the bouquet in beautifully, searching into his pocket to get a note that he would wrote to you every week. but then, he hadn’t felt any type of paper in it. he was frantically searching for it and there wasn’t anything. then searching in his bag, he had gotten a pen and a small heart shaped sticky note.

“this would do.” he mumbled and opened the black inked pen to write.

“i feel really tired today.”

the moans of the cold wind were whooshing through the trees that were rustling. your hand holding onto your jacket and yawned, a hand placed over your mouth.

a deadpanned look from matthew made you stop yawning, “who asked you to go early today?”

“just because.” you easily answered.

“why me? not seunghwan, woongki or even jiwoong?” the last name he had said made you felt unsure.

asking jiwoong to accompany him to see your secret admirer would be tiring to him. jiwoong being the sleepyhead he is, you knew he would never get out of that deep slumber of his to go to college early. he sure was a heavy sleeper.

“jiwoong will never get out of his bed.” a logical answer made matthew nod, agreeing.

arriving in front of the college grounds, seeing it so empty without that many people around made you feel at ease. usually, it was crowded and loud for you to take in. the beep of matthew’s card to enter was heard, automatically opening to see a familiar figure in front of your locker.

he was opening your red locker, slipping in a note in his hand. that hand.

matthew froze beside you, glancing at you if you were witnessing the scene in front of you. the person had closed the locker shut, dusting off his jeans and stood up properly. the slicked back hair had totally knocked you over.

“jiwoong?”

the familiar voice of yours rang in his ears, shooting you a surprised look. jiwoong was panicking, he didn’t know what to do. his eyes staring into yours that were confused and questionable. and with that, matthew ran away.

you walked up towards him, seeing him in his round glasses, white t-shirt and jeans, topped off with a varsity jacket you had gifted him for his birthday. of course it would be given away just by his clothing. his orbs staring somewhere else that wasn’t you.

that feeling when your hand grabbed his, he finally looked at you, utterly shocked.

“if you wanna explain, you can.” you say, him inhaling sharply after.

“you see, umm, i honestly don’t care if you don’t answer me oppositely but i liked you for a really long time. i asked matthew for advice but i was the one stubborn and didn’t want to do it face to face. so he suggested to be secretive and i guessed you know what i mean.” he starts, staring into your eyes.

“what-”

“i gave you roses since it reminded me how i first met you — you drawing a scenery of a house and roses scattered.”

the cute memory made you grin lightly while jiwoong was fiddling the end of his shirt with his other free hand. it was not that he was scared to get rejected. he was scared and worried that you might be uncomfortable or him being over the boundaries line as friends.

jiwoong gazed at you just when you wrapped his arms around his waist. gosh, that smile of yours brightens the whole universe, that cheeks of yours with cute dimples, those delicate hands of yours so soft and gentle. he surely was going to melt into your touch.

a chuckle escapes your lips, “you can wish me roses any day.”

that easy sentence of yours made him smile and hugged you to his warm embrace closely. the butterflies in his stomach when he held you was fluttering lots.

“i might as well still wish you roses even if we’re together.”

oh, i wish you roses.

a/n ! thank you so much for reading and giving me requests. i’m thankful that you guys enjoyed reading it and giving all the notes and support. i do not own any characters, music or pics given, will definitely work harder for the next ones !

signing out, miaaa hihi !

#zb1 imagines #zerobaseone #zerobaseone imagines #zerobaseone fics #zerobaseone x reader #zb1 #zb1 oneshots #zb1 fics #zb1 x reader #jiwoong #kim jiwoong #kim jiwoong x reader #jiwoong imagines

160 notes · View notes

crayonboxcolors607 · 1 year

Text

Steve didn't mean for anyone to find out.

Looking back, the ringing had started before Starcourt, before Billy even. He'd attributed the fuzziness to the recently acquired concussion he'd received from Jonathon, holy shit that guy could punch. Except it didn't go away. It stayed with him like a fucked up reminder of the asshole persona he'd worked so hard to shed.

And even after he came to terms with it, after he realized there was nothing to do about it, nobody seemed to notice. His constant asking of "Huh? and "What?" and when he was in school, "Could you repeat that please?" was chalked up to his airheaded jockiness.

He learned how to focus on people's lips when they spoke, how to not let it get under his skin when Nancy teased him about it, called him stupid, and then later, bullshit.

Billy's gruesome attack had admittedly made it much worse, had transferred the ringing from just the left side of his head to both, but still, nobody noticed. He struggled through the remainder of his senior year and failed to get accepted to any college he applied to. He let his father force him into a job, tell him that he wasn't worth a place in the family company, that he deserved to work minimum wage like the degreeless scum he was sure to be for the rest of his life.

He'd rolled his eyes and pretended to be snarky when Robin insulted him, her tongue moving so fast that he knew there was no chance he would've been able to understand even if he could hear perfectly. When he tried and failed to flirt with the girls that came into the Scoops Ahoy, he let her keep track of his failures on the board instead of writing the daily specials like she was supposed to.

He hid behind laughter as the kids in The Party teased him, told him "This is why you didn't go to college!", called him stupid when he didn't hear the setup for a joke, when Dustin became frustrated because he'd focused on the background music in the Russian transmission; the only part he didn't have to struggle to detect the sounds of.

God, the Russians.

It was as if he was underwater after that. The words were bubbly and distant, but still, he could understand them, sort of. He made an effort to get face-to-face with Robin in the bathroom, did his best to not make his staring at her lips too obvious as she confessed, and threw out a joke when he realized she was genuinely afraid that he would hate her.

He'd watched the other Party members so he could figure out what he was supposed to be doing, having given up trying to understand whatever instructions Dustin and Nancy were prattling out. He tagged along with Robin as Dustin and Erica rushed up the hill to guide Hopper, Murray, and Joyce throughout the Russian base using Cerebro, replying to her concerned “Are you okay dingus?” with an “I’m fine,” that he couldn’t even really hear.

He did his best to help out, feeling a twinge of accomplishment when he insisted that he and Robin go check out what the fuck was going on with Starcourt’s lights, although it was quickly drowned out by the worry for the children he’d come to adopt as his own.

Even as he and Robin got in the car though, he couldn’t ignore the little voice in the back of his head that snarked “Is that really all you’re good for now that you can’t hear? Noticing the lights?”, responding to it with an inner denial he didn’t even remember having.

He thought hard as he and Robin drove as fast as they could back to Starcourt, his mind racing. “You could maybe even live like this,” he told himself as he gripped the steering wheel.

Then he saw Billy’s Camaro speeding towards Nancy, saw her failed attempts at derailing him with bullets.

And he didn’t even think before flooring the gas pedal, pressing his and Robin’s backs into their seats as he crashed, head on, full speed, into Billy’s car. His head ricocheted off the steering wheel, back into the headrest of his seat.

Then the fuzzy underwater noises in his ears gave way to metallic ringing, and everything went dark.

His memories are murky and vague after that, flashes of clarity amidst all the chaos. Throwing lit packages of fireworks; the panic that grew in his chest when Billy brought El towards the Mindflayer; not being able to hear Billy and Max's screams well enough; the bile that rose in his throat when he learned that Hopper had been lost to the Upside-Down.

He remembers Robin screaming when a paramedic tried to pry the two of them apart, shaking her head and repeating, "No, no, no. I need to stay with him," as she'd cried. How El crumpled to the ground when she realized that her father was gone.

He doesn't remember how he made it through the physical exam from the ambulance staff without someone picking up on it, doesn't remember what they'd told him about his injuries.

He remembers peeling off his grimy uniform with Robin, trying to take turns in the shower, and eventually resorting to washing the other's hair in the bathroom sink because they couldn't reach up high enough to do it themself. How Robin had tried for days afterward to scrub the blood and sweat and ash out of their uniforms, breaking down in tears when Steve grabbed her hands and held her when she beat his chest as she cried.

He doesn't remember how Robin first figured it out, just knows that one day they were sitting on the floor of his barren room sifting through tapes, and she'd maneuvered the record player off his desk. How she'd looked utterly affronted when he asked her what the fuck she was doing, responding with an incredulous, "Because it's on your left, and you can't hear out of that ear, dingus," as if it was obvious. How she later explained to him that her father was deaf, that she knew sign language alongside Spanish, French, and Italian.

He remembers how she'd searched through Hawkins Library, and eventually taken a day trip to Indianapolis with him so they could find books to teach him American Sign Language. How giddy she had been when he signed his first sentence to her, how she'd said it felt like the secret code but without the malintent.

He remembers how Robin had eventually dragged him out to an audiologist in Indy, rationalizing the cost with his parent's money, and how they learned that he was 100% deaf in his left ear and had 30% hearing loss in his right. How he'd been given a set of hearing aids that he'd promptly put in a drawer and purposely ignored.

And yeah, the world was weird, and Steve couldn't really hear it, and there was really only one person with which he could actually communicate and understand.

But he would survive because he always did. Because he had to. He was Steve Harrington, for fuck's sake. It was his job to take care of other people.

So yeah, nobody was supposed to find out.

But Steve is fucking grateful that Robin did.

did i write this at 11pm instead of doing work? perhaps. will i probably fail several classes because of this current hyperfixation? most likely. do i care? not really, no.

im probably gonna write another one of these if this lands well (and also if it doesnt cuz thats what the brain worms want) so lemme know what you think

next one will probably be about dustin and/or the older members of the party (nancy, jonathan, etc)

#steve harrington #robin buckley #stranger things 4 #stranger things 3 #post starcourt #the battle of starcourt #hard of hearing steve harrington #deaf steve harrington #robin buckley knows sign language #CODA robin buckley #american sign language #platonic stobin #robin buckley is amazing

182 notes · View notes

gardens-light · 2 years

Text

The One Who Cared

Dream. Lord of the Endless is captured by a human whom dealt in the art of 'Black Magic'. With his possessions stolen away, and no mercy shown. Only one person held the only chance for his escape... You.

Content- Minor spoilers for 'Sandman- Ep 1.' Small mentions of blood, and family abuse. Course Language.

"Tonight... We'll achieve what has never been attempted. To summon and imprison... Death!"

You, your brother Alex and Dr Hathaway peeked behind the iron bars which allowed entrance to the cellar of the family estate. You and Alex held hands to comfort each other, as you witnessed your father- The Magus. And his followers prepare the ritual.

Surrounding a small binding circle of yellow chalk, which was written into the stone floor. The followers begun to chant and repeat, "into the darkness." As Magus took his place at the alter, with Dr Hathaway's opened book.

"I give you a coin, made from stone. I give you a knife, from under the hills. I give you the blood from out of my veins."

Your turned into your brother's shoulder, looking away from the scene as Magus took the dagger and sliced his forearm open. Alex patted your back, as he continued to watch your father's blood drip from his limb and into the binding circle.

"I give you a song, which I stole from the dirt. And I give you a feather, pulled from an angel's wing! For you to lift up into the Heavens!"

Turning back to the sight before you. You could hear everyone hold their breath as they watched. And waited for a brief moment. The white feather touched the the inside of the binding circle, and once it touched the stone. It begun to swirl and dance.

Alex and Dr Hathaway moved closer, leaving you at the iron gates of the cellar's entrance. The Magus followers raised their voices so their chant could be louder, your father continued with great anticipation written all over his face.

"I summon you with poison!"

Gasps and whispers could be heard from the onlookers, as a sudden and strange gust of wind blew out the light from the candles.

"I summon you with pain!"

The pages of the book upon the alter, begun to rapidly flip through the thick novel as the wind built up.

"I open the way! I open the gates!"

The binding circle lit up like fire, a burning light rushing through each curved line. And symbols of the incantation upon the otter ring.

"I summon you in the name of the old lords! Namtar! Allatu! Morax! Maborym! Calls you! Horvendile calls you! We summon you together! Come!."

A puff of smoke and lightening flashed across the whole cellar. The light of the candles slowly returned, revealing a strange figure which laid unconscious within the binding circle. Everyone gasped and whispered, wide eyes gazed at the being before them.

Upon your father's command, Alex carefully reached into the circle and took the individual's belongings. Starting with a mysterious leather pouch filled with nothing but sand. A beautiful, square-cut ruby hanging from their neck. And finally, removing a unique helm of iron, which looked like a plague doctor's mask.

The sight became even more confusing, as Magus stripped the being's large black cloak off them...

A pale man laid naked against the stone floor. Toned muscles and strong definitions lined his body. Messy, short hair of raven locks. This sight peaked your young child mind. If this being was supposed to be Death. A nightmarish demon... Why did it look more like a man?.

Pleased with himself, your father looked out onto his followers. "We'll let our 'guest' recover, before we tell him our demands." Picking up the stolen items. Everyone followed Magus out of the cellar. A mixture of shock and praise was spoken, but you only looked back in silence. A ache begun to grow in your heart...

Within days, the mysterious 'guest' was imprisoned within a glass sphere. Iron held it together, and strong wire suspended it from the floor. Tied to the ceiling of the cellar, and pillars of the manor that ran deep. Within days, your father found out it's name. Dream. Lord of the Endless.

Over the next ten years, Magus approached the Lord of Dreams on a daily basis. Pleading, begging then soon demanding, ramping and raving about what he wanted. Not just for his oldest son, Randol, to return from the dead. But also wealth, power and immortality. But he only grew more and more impatient, as the demon remain silent and still...

Alex showed sympathy towards the Lord. But not as much as you...

Burgess already disowned and denied your existence. Why bother to continue to please and win him? Like Alex tried to do. Your brother took his responsibilities of a servant role seriously, meeting every demand. While you... well, you merely just roamed the grounds. With Burgess refusing to acknowledge you as his child, and refusing to accept anything you offered. You chose to do what you pleased...

The morning after your father's grand annual ball, you laid peacefully within the grounds of the manor. Lazily watching the clouds and life past you, as the soft grass cradled your posture. The warmth of the sun provided the little prosperity you had in your life. Everything around you was almost silent and still, until a sound of a raven interrupted the still air. Propping up your head, seeing the black bird elegantly perch upon a small branch.

"Good morning, Jessamy." You spoke with a warm smile, "I've brought food this time." Sitting upright, you gestured towards a small saucer of birdseed and bread crumbs. "I know it's not much, or perhaps it's something you don't even eat. But... unfortunately, it's all I can give. To show I'm not like them. To prove I'm not a threat.-"

The raven squawked and left before you could finish your sentence. Looking down at the picnic blanket, your heart sunk into your chest. "Of course... we've imprisoned her master, and stolen his possessions. Why would she trust someone like us?" you tried to settle back onto the blanket, but a scent of smoke was carried in the wind. Standing to your feet, you looked around, until the sounds of the servants warnings came to your ears.

Running back to the manor, from the gravel driveway you saw smoke sweeping through the closed windows of your father's study. Flickering colours of red and orange danced behind the glass. You quickly grabbed the gardener, Paul by his arm as he almost ran past you. "Section off area! Get water- use every bucket and pot! Put it out and save what you can!-"

"Of course!"

Entering the front doors and into the main hall, as servants ran around you. Grabbing everything they could to salvage, and put out the fire.

Bang!

The sound of gunfire echoed from the cellar below, in the amidst of all the chaos. Running towards the wooden door beneath the stairs, skipping every second step of the stone which lead down below. But you came to an erupt halt. Breath getting stuck in your throat. Eyes widened in fear and disbelief, as your sight fell onto the scene before you.

Not far from you stood Alex, rifle in hand. The smell of gunpower filled the air, like a freshly blown out candle. He was frozen in place. Red blood and black feathers stained and smird across Dream's glass prison. The naked Lord's eyes shined with fright, as they slowly shifted from the blood splatter to Alex.

"What have you done?" Only your low whisper, broke your brother out of his statue phase. As the heavy footsteps of your father, scrambled down the stone stairs.

"Idiot!" Burgess snapped, snatching the weapon out of his son's hands. "You could of shattered the glass! Clean that mess up!"

Alex approached the glass sphere with a slow foot shuffle. His expression weakening, almost close to tears. As he bent down and picked up the remains of the bird, you caught a glimpse of Dream's shocked expression twist into anger. Narrow glares with watery eyes fell onto Alex, as he turned his back on the prisoner, and walked towards the iron gates.

Tears rolled down your cheeks, as Alex ignored one of the servant's gesture towards a bin. But your hurtful stare caught his attention. Guilt was written all over his face, "you're no different than him!"

"I-I was told-"

Slap!

The back of your hand struck across Alex's cheeks, leaving a red throbbing mark.

"You are, your own man! Act like one!"

Later That Night

Duck feathers flew around your bed, as you ripped and teared the pillows in sorrow and rage.

"She meant no harm! She meant no harm!"

Tears streamed down your cheeks, eyes red and swore from crying for hours. Ripping the last cushion, after destroying the last of your pillows. A heavy breath left your lungs, as you breathed deeply. Finally standing still, as the white feathers settled onto the bedsheets and you like fallen snow.

You stood there, silently sobbing. Hugging yourself as grief slowly swept through...

Tap. Tap.

"Go away, Alex!"

Tap. Tap.

Listening carefully, realizing the small sound came from your bedroom window. You could just hear it over the whistling wind outside. The tapping upon the glass continued, as you cautiously approached the window. Unlocking the latch as silently as you could, and opening the small section of the window outwards.

There upon the frame was a small raven. It's head cocking from side to side, as though it was studying your face. A weak smile spread across, as you held out an open palm. Small laughter of disbelief escaped you, as the raven perched upon your hand with an elegance only you knew.

"Jessamy?"

A low squawk chirped from the bird. You gently rested your forehead against her beak, tears of joy and relief falling from your cheeks. And onto her feathers. Gazing into her black eyes, that seemed to hold a small galaxy soothed your aching heart.

"I thought you were gone. I-I saw-"

Jessamy squawked and ruffled her feathers, as she shook her head away from you.

"Of course! You're right. Answers later! Right now. We need to reunite and free your master."

It was clear. No one. Not even your own brother could be trusted now. As you reached for the fire-poker from the fireplace, you decided to do what should of been done years ago. Free the Lord of Dreams.

With Jessamy perched upon your shoulder, you silently and swiftly walked down the large staircase. Being mindful of each step, holding onto the banister while stepping over the squeaky stairs. Looking over your shoulder, and behind each doorframe as you made your way, towards the cellar. Opening the wooden door as it creak felt like it could waken the whole household, your footsteps were light and gentle against the stone stairs.

Coming to iron gates of the cellar, one of the guards held up a candle-lit lantern, the soft glow revealing your face. Jessamy slowly moved towards the back of your neck, to remain hidden. While you hid the fire-poker behind your back.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?."

"Father sent me to see if today's lesson taught our prisoner anything."

The guard studied your face, attempting to spot your lie. As he raised an eyebrow. Giving you a hard, questioning stare.

"It's in the early hours of the morning. Our shift has barely concluded, let alone started. Besides, The Magus has never bothered, nor involved you in anything before... why the sudden change now?."

Your eyes narrowed onto him, "are you questioning The Magus, Johnathan? Of course, I understand your confusion. I am too also confused. Yet I simply followed his order, to avoid the end of his cane. But since you're much braver than me, perhaps you could cure your curiosity, and ask The Magus yourself?."

His face went white a sheet, before fumbling with the keys to open the lock. "O-Of course, Y/N! So sorry! A thousand apologies!."

The gate opened and Johnathan stepped aside, allowing you through. "Thank you, and remember it's not me you're questioning. It's my father's." God those last words tasted like poison.

Johnathan nodded rapidly, as though someone shook him. Silently gesturing for his partner to leave, as he gave you the keys. You watched them both, walk up the stone steps and listened for the wooden door above to close and lock. To be certain, you counted to five. Being satisfied that no one was coming down any time soon, you locked the iron gates to the cellar. Before turning onto your heel, and running towards the glass prison.

Approaching the small binding circle of chalk, Dream's narrowed stare and red watery eyes gazed at you. Peering over his knees, as he hugged his legs.

You tried to steady your breathing, heart slightly skipping a beat as your eyes locked onto his. It was like he was staring right into your very soul. But Jessamy's ruffle against the back of your neck, snapped you out of your daze.

"I have no words, nor a good enough apology for what happened. And unlike my brother, Alex. I have no excuses either."

No answer. But the small squawk of Jessamy made him tilt his head up. Another squawk came from her, as she came out from behind you and started pecking the glass. Dream's expression softened for a moment, and a weak smile came to you. As you saw a wave of relief rush over him. But it was only for a brief moment, for his narrowed glare returned to you.

"I don't know how she did it. Or if it was simply a coincidence that Alex shot the wrong bird. But I'm glad he did."

You pulled out the fire-poker from behind your back.

"I'm here to set you free."

Dream gazed at you, his narrowed glare sussing you out. It was only the squawks from Jessamy, that softened his expression into a hopeful one. It appeared as though the pair could communicate with one another.

"I have no demand. No bargain to make. Nor a plea. I want nothing from you. I don't care if you kill me, once you're out. Or burn this whole house to the ground."

Dream's soft gaze lingered on you a few moments longer, as you raised the fire-poker above your head. He shuffled away a few inches from you, bracing himself for the next moments to come. And in one swift movement, bringing the iron tool down from above and hitting the glass surface hard. The fire-poker bounced once meeting the glass, sending vibrations up the handle and into your hands.

Fighting through the tingles, your grip upon the fire-poker tightened. Raising it above your head again, and slamming it down hard against the glass surface once more. It took a good three times for a chip to form upon the glass.

Resting your head against the metal frame, feeling the small beads of sweat forming upon your forehead. Your heavy breath fogging up the glass. Jessamy continued to hover from one panel to another, pecking and scratching at the glass. Suddenly the heavy rattle of the wooden door, at top of the stone stairs of the cellar echoed. Muffled voices of panic followed.

Adrenaline begun to flow through you, as time was no longer of your side. A deep breath left you, while aiming the end of the fire-poker at the chipped glass panel. Taking a couple of slow practice swings, making sure the end of the fire-poker would hit exactly on the chip. Raising it above your head, holding the pose for a brief moment, tightening your grip upon the handle. And with all your strength, bringing down the iron tool with such force, slamming it against the chip. Although small cracks begun to form and spread out, it would still need a few more hits for the glass to shatter.

"If there's something- anything, you can do. Now's the time to do it."

Even in this dire moment, the Lord of Dreams still remained silent.

A small frown came to your lips. Brushing away the droplets of sweat upon your forehead, taking a deep breath again. As you prepared to hit the glass again.

Jessamy squawked, the door's rattling turned into small thuds. Hearing the ranging voice of your father, commanding whomever it was, to break the door down.

"I know! I know, Jessamy! But he needs to help!"

The small raven stopped pecking at the glass, gently flying down onto the stone ground in front of the prison. Allowing the fire-poker to rest upon your shoulder, as you watched Jessamy sweep her little feet against the otter ring of the binding circle. Small clouds of yellow chalk and dust, kicked up around her.

Turning your attention back to the prison, raising the fire-poker above your head. Adjusting your grip, and after a moment of mustering up the remaining strength you had. The iron tool came hammering down against the glass, smashing through sending fragments everywhere. Stumbling backwards, your feet smudging more of the binding circle.

The loud bang of the wooden door, finally being broken down thundered across the cellar. Falling against the stone floor, landing upon your back. The sights and sounds of that moment became a hazy blur. Closing your eyes as everything turned to white...

"You can open your eyes now."

You were greeted by a soft voice, with a little deep tone. Eyes widening as you took in the sight of Dream. Standing before you, fully dressed in black, holding out a gentle hand.

Taking in your surroundings, realizing you were no longer in the cellar. Or anywhere near your house for that matter. You sat against unusual grey sand, gentle waves of an ocean washed against the shore. The sky was clear and blue. Jessamy perched upon your shoulder.

"Am I dead?."

Your heart fluttered, as a sweet smile came to Dream's soft lips. "No. You're in my realm. The Realm of Dreaming."

A puzzled expression came to you, as you took his hand and allowed him to help you up. "So... I'm asleep?"

"No... I've taken you from the Waking World and brought you into my own."

The pair of you stood in silence for a moment. Dream's smile slightly faded as your hand returned to your side.

"Y/N... I am deeply humbled and forever your debt, for releasing me from that prison. Jessamy saw the kindness in you, therefore she knew she could trust you. That I could trust you. You have no idea how much that means to me. I've brought you here to keep you safe. But... if it's not what you want... I can return you to the Waking World."

A another moment of silence passed, as you processed everything. You looked back up at him.

"So... What happened? All I remember is just a bright white void."

"After the binding circle and glass prison was broken. I was able to use my powers for a brief moment. That's what caused you to fall onto the floor. Your father, brother and accompanied by others reached the bottom of the stairs, by the time I exited the circle. Your... father did attempt to shoot us. But I prevented any harm, by bringing us here."

A weak smile came to you, "of course he'd try and shoot me. I took everything away from him."

Dream placed a hand upon your shoulder. "There's no need to worry, or be afraid anymore. You're safe and with me. My kingdom is your home. Roam and do whatever you wish."

"A forever paradise with you? I suppose dreams do come true."

Tag List

@veevoilet

#the sandman #sandman netflix #netflix the sandman #morpheus #lord morpheus #dream of the endless #sandman x reader #sandman x you #sandman x y/n #morpheus x reader #fanfic #gardens light #x fem reader #x reader

678 notes · View notes

aliteral-ghost · 4 months

Text

This is the gift I made for @calilk for the @mcytblrholidayexchange! I hope you enjoy it!

I was asked for some identity reveal shenanigans and I hope I was able to convey it well! It's Joe and Cleo-centric with a little hurt and a lot more comfort! You can read the whole thing here or on ao3 here.

Beta'd by the amazing @iwillstealyourjawbone!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cleo knows Joe for a whole decade before they even begin to think about whether or not he’s actually human. No one on the Hermitcraft server really is, as far as she knows, but Joe is mostly unassuming and Cleo hasn’t known a human in so many years that she just figures that they all have their quirks. Until one day, when they’re prepping for HHH, and Cleo realizes a trait that Joe Hills has that no one in her many years of existence has had.

“Joe?” Cleo asks. “Why can't I see your eyes?” Joe blinks, or at least they assume he blinks, from behind the glasses that are perpetually covering his eyes.

“Well, sorry, I didn't realize it was a problem! I can fix that right away.” Eyes appear as a sort of halo around his head, all staring at Cleo. She flinches suddenly at the amount of them watching her.

“No, no, that's fine, Joe. I really don't need to make eye contact…” The eyes disappear as quickly as they arrive, flickering out with a snap of static and sudden rush of air pressure. Cleo's ears pop, or at least they try to, one of the eardrums slightly too rotten to be able to flex that much. They manage to get it to go back to normal with a little fiddling, then smile at Joe again. “Well, shall we? There are hermits to be helped.”

Or harmed, or hindered, or hugged, or any other verb that starts with ‘h’ that Cleo can think of. It varies wildly through the weeks depending on who needs help, but Joe always knows what they're going to be doing. Even when there isn't really going to be a plan, Joe always knows.

Cleo doesn't really care, though. That's just Joe Hills, in his infinite quirks. They're friends for a reason, of course.

After the helping (holding Tango at swordpoint until he lets them place snow), Joe and Cleo find themselves sitting at the top of Cleo’s castle, watching the sun go down. Predictably, the rest of the hermits were about as flaky as pumpkin pie crust, and it was a monumental task for just the two of them. Tango was grateful at the end of it all, of course, which always feels good, but Cleo’s fingers are practically falling off from the cold, wet snow, and Joe seems like he’s on the verge of falling asleep.

Neither of them are talking, Cleo making mental notes of all of the things she still has to finish in her base, all the armor stands she wants to fill the rooms with, and Joe staring into the sun. Or, at least, Cleo thinks he is. She can’t see his eyes. His glasses always seem to be reflecting just right.

It’s not like that’s the strangest thing about Joe, either. Occasionally they will find him just slightly too transparent, or working on something while floating at a strange angle, but that’s always been chalked up to the Joe Hills difference. She’s never thought that it might be because Joe isn’t human.

“I’ve been thinking about your question,” Joe says eventually. It takes Cleo by surprise, not because he’s been thinking about a question she posed, but because he sounds melancholy about that thinking.

“Which one?” Cleo asks. In theory, they know. They both know what question he’s been thinking about, but neither of them really know how to go about saying it.

“About my eyes,” Joe hiccups, a little sort of half-laugh, half-sob, clearly exhausted. “Do you know what I am, Cleo?”

That gives Cleo pause. Sure, she has theories, but the rule of thumb on the Hermitcraft server is always to keep theories to yourself. Never assume. “You're human?” She doesn't mean it to sound like a question.

“I'm a monster,” Joe sighs, nearly deflating. “My kind has done so much harm to the players… I've done so much….”

“If you're a monster,” Cleo says, not sure what they're talking about but just wanting to make things better, “What does that make me? My kind is constantly trying to kill us.”

As if on cue, a zombie groans from somewhere outside, and shuffles closer, as if sensing them through the walls.

“That's different,” Joe says. “You're cognizant. You're you. If you saw my true form… I wouldn't be allowed around here anymore.”

“I may not know ‘your true form,’ or whatever,” Cleo retorts, a little indignant, “But I know you. You're Joe Hills, from Nashville, Tennessee, you like helping people in that strange way you do, and you would never want to hurt any of us.”

Joe curls up like they’ve done hundreds of times before, head on Cleo’s thigh, shoulder pressed firmly to their side. It’s habit, at this point, more than anything, and he eases into a fitful sleep before long. Cleo doesn’t follow suit, counting his breaths and trying to ignore how Joe’s form shifts and morphs in his sleep. It wouldn't be polite to stare.

She doesn’t look up, but if they did they would see a massive halo of eyes, shimmering in every color of the rainbow. They’re not watching Joe and Cleo, instead staring off into the distance, watching every move of the other beings on the server, protecting them.

The next time someone asks about Joe–Gem catches Cleo after one of their Secret Life sessions, eyes wide with curiosity–they just smile. “That’s just how Joe is,” Cleo says. “That’s how he’s always been. Not much more about it.”

“But–” Gem starts, still full of questions.

“It’s the Joe Hills difference,” Cleo insists. “It’s really better if you don’t think too hard about it, anyways. You'll just end up with a headache.” She doesn’t say any more than that, even when Gem keeps pestering her. It’s not their business to share, and if Joe ever feels like telling the other Hermits, he will. They won’t pressure him, they know that, everyone is far too polite to even think about it.

“Okay,” Gem says, sounding like she’s mulling it over. “The Joe Hills difference.” She doesn’t ask any more questions, and Cleo goes about her day, happy that she'd been trusted to protect their friend’s privacy.

#hermitcraft #joe hills #zombiecleo #really fun to do this I don't normally write joe hills as eldritch

23 notes · View notes

josnhoes · 9 months

Note

Hey, could I possibly get a how Dick Grayson and Bruce wayne would deal with having an adult 30 year old s/o who has autism, but the men don’t know about the autism until the men either figure it out themselves or date number 5 is when s/o tells them cuz they don’t just going around telling people about their autism. S/o at first masks themselves very well, but as you get to know them they have these quirks. Like s/o takes an intense interest in their men’s day or hobby or intensely helps out when they’re in trouble. Theyre excitedly talk to their men about their own interests. Gets stressed easily and can’t sleep until they’re not stressed. Finds it hard to understand new topics no matter how many times it is explained to them until it is explained in a way that isn’t normal, but once they understand it, they’re really good at it, except for the concept of being rich with all that money, still can’t wrap their head around how Bruce deals with all that money and all the meetings that go along with it. Finds it hard to express emotions unless it’s intensely happy or intensely hurt. Very blunt, like Batman says he works alone and date waits until other people are gone before saying “but you just worked with the police 10 minutes ago”

Batman and his family are all Autistic to varying degrees except Alfred who is the token nuerotypical, and I will die on this hill. Look at them and their behaviors and *tell me* they aren't autistic. I *dare* you.

GN reader

Content warning: none

Bruce, despite his himbo persona, he put on struggled with people and connecting to them. His family was an exception. He at times struggled with sarcasm and had some blunders but that was publicly chalked up to silly Brucie Wayne the himbo. His diagnosis was kept secret, being famous made that hard to accomplish, but he'd managed to keep it hidden; for him and his family.

Still he was surprised when he clicked so well with you. He found your blunt honesty charming, he appreciated the way you honestly cared about his day. It was nice to have someone outside the family who cared for him and not his fame or money. Though you didn't seem to comprehend how much money he had when you insisted on paying your part of the dates. If he snuck the money back on you somehow, well you'd never know. Spoiler alert you did but you appreciated the gesture.

Then on one of your dates you came clean; and how you clicked made sense! You guys both had autism. Sadly he couldn't tell you his own diagnosis yet. Forgive him for being so cautious, but he worried about the public opinion. Maybe he was a coward, but it was rooted in paranoia.

He knew there was nothing wrong with being autistic, he just also knew the bigots were a major issue and with his nightlife and CEO work he didn't really have time to deal with the bigots and media storm. But if you both lasted longer then a few months he'd tell you.

He supports you completely. Every hobby, Fandom, and hyperfixation he tries out with you. And even if he isn't a fan he happily listens to you talk about it finding the way you light up attractive.

You quickly become *his* person just as he became your's; a fact obvious to everyone.

Dick was the most functioning of the family. Everyone was functional but Dick was able to push through some things. Like the various sensory issues. He also was pretty good at reading social situations. Though he attributed that to his time with his Bio parents. It wasn't always easy for him, when he was younger he was much more prone to outbursts.

He maybe seen as the golden child now, but as far as Robins went *he* had been the one to give Bruce the most gray hairs. Though no one believes it when they hear it. That being said he is one of the few members of the family that is pretty open with his diagnoses. He wants to be a pillar for the autistic and adhd community in Gotham.

So when he met you, he pretty much pegged you as autistic. You had been in the area of hit and run, and as a witness, you had to give a statement. Being the friendliest of the force, he'd been chosen to talk to you. You were point blank and despite the situation you were calm and almost unbothered. Which he asked about and when you said you had trouble emoting he knew right away. He sends you off with his personal number incase you need help or remember something more.

From there, a friendship grew. That being said, this man was a mother hen. Always trying to help you with every little thing, including your sleep issues. He backs off some if you tell him it's too much, but he does explain it's how he shows he cares; and it's not because he doesn't think you can do things for yourself. He remembers the bitterness he felt when his cop coworkers found out about his autism when he first started, and they had both babied him and tried to get him off the force.

From friendship come a romance eventually. He was the one to make the first move. He made a meal for you both to share in his apartment. He picked a couple of movies, each a comfort film for both of you, and made the night special even if it was simple.

#batfam x reader #romantic batfam #batman x reader #dc x reader

43 notes · View notes