#but imagine the chaos those three would create

[mossycobblestonewrites]

DC X DP PROMPT #5

You know those ones where Damian gets adopted by the Fentons? Other way round -> reveal gone wrong Danny gets adopted by Talia Al Ghul.

Danny, after a bad reveal that he loses his friends and sister to in order to escape (they sacrificed themselves for him (taking shots, misdirections)) is tired and low on Ecto. He's hungry and he's so so tired. He's flying which ever way the wind takes him, just a little guy in the sky. And oh, what's this? Some Good Soup™? It smells a bit funky, but that's just flavor.

Talia find Danny bleeding green whilst drinking from the pits. She's feeling maternal (sort of) and Damian has just been brought into the world, what's another son? ESPECIALLY a Lazarus child?

Danny wakes up after taking a nap in his spicy soup to a woman that is more of a mother than his own had ever been (which,, yikes) and he's pretty happy. So what if there are assassins trying to kill him and him brand new brother (literally, that kid is FRESH) it's fun. It's enrichment 🤸 he probably needs to learn how to fight normal humans anyway. Talia doesn't even get mad when he accidentally kills the ninjas!!

He's only there for a few months before he gets another new brother! This one's a little weird, but he's also hurt so that's okay! Danny will support his healing journey!!

[dansemacabre]

i’ve been thinking about “sixer, it would eat you alive” since i read it and. man. every layer you peel back makes it worse. im not a bill apologist but. shit

if you (1) take it at face value, it paints bill as an apologetic murderer in his single (and maybe sole) open moment of regret. he doesn’t let his walls down often- only with ford do we even get to see the remnant of his galaxy, see the “actual remorse” ford describes, get just a hint of his origins. but he does it, because he thinks ford should know.

if you (2) take it from ford’s point of view, as something he committed to journal three, like. wow. imagine being so committed to a being that you’d hunt down and kill the monster that destroyed his home, only to (assumably) figure out later that that being was the monster. the small moments of trust, the “good times”, are so key to manipulation. how long did ford hold onto that one shred of vulnerability? no wonder ford stayed for as long as he did. in his eyes, bill was a survivor. ford wanted to survive too.

(slight tw below for unreality- any time i mention our reality, i mean “our reality” as a narrative device used in the book of bill as a proxy for the idea of bill being in our reality, since he can’t actually be in our reality. all of this is a fictional theory about a show/book with fictional contents!)

but if you (3) remember that “even his lies are lies” and absolutely Nothing bill says should be trusted. Whoo boy. if i read tbob right the book itself is being created in the theraprism (even tho it shows up with the ciphertologists at some point? idk that’s a whole other post). it’s meant to show what the reader wants to see; it manifests in our reality as what the collective fandom wants to see. so if we want to see truth, if we want to see where bill ended up and who he actually is, there’s a non-zero chance that the whole interaction was a complete fabrication.

imagine bill, stuck in the actively harmful, probably earth-illegal theraprism, once again being forced to be “fixed” and molded into something more palatable, being forced to conform no matter how much it hurts. (i know natural uncontrollable mutation ≠ just so much murder and destruction and chaos, but. you can’t ignore the similarities. bill has obviously been thinking about those silly straws.)

he looks back on everything that went wrong, back on his relationship with ford, back through every dimension where he wins. would that one moment, that one truth amid centuries of lies, have saved him from purgatory? if he had just been open? shown his damage? maybe he did think of his parents, or his henchmaniacs (especially the oracle). people who he might have once opened up to. maybe he just wanted to open up to someone again.

so in his own weird way, stuck in a cell, he reshaped reality again. in this reality, for this fleeting moment, he had been someone worth believing. and ford had listened, hell, ford had wanted to help. looking back, knowing how he treated ford, knowing how ford ended up because of it, maybe bill would have said the most honest thing he’d ever told ford: i am the monster, i am not worth your time or belief, and i will eat you alive.

[schemmentigfs]

Blue Faces, Red Tempers.

Summary: Melissa gets a taste of her own medicine when your son pranks her by painting her face blue before your weekly dinner with the abbott crew.

just a lil crack to celebrate season four that premieres tomorrow. 🤍 (not revised!)

The house was unusually quiet, the early morning sun barely filtering through the curtains. You were already up, moving quietly around the kitchen, trying not to make too much noise. The scent of freshly chopped vegetables and simmering sauce filled the air as you prepared for tonight’s dinner.

Your work family—Janine, Gregory, Jacob, Barbara, Ava, and Mr. Johnson—were all set to come over for the traditional weekly dinner. It was supposed to be a simple gathering, a night of laughter and relaxation. You just hoped that everything would go smoothly, especially since Nicholas had a habit of turning calm moments into chaotic ones.

Melissa, of course, was still asleep. She had pulled a late night with lesson plans and was finally getting some much-needed rest. Her hair was a wild, tangled mess against the pillow, and she was sprawled out on her side, snoring softly. It was one of those rare, peaceful moments in the Schemmenti household.

At least, it was until Nicholas found his way into the bedroom.

You were too focused on stirring the sauce to notice his quiet footsteps sneaking past you. A few minutes later, you heard him giggling from down the hall, and that was when you knew—something was definitely up.

“Sweetheart?” you called out, your voice echoing softly through the house as you wiped your hands with a towel, the remnants of dinner still lingering on your fingers. When no response came, you felt a hint of concern tug at your heart, so you sighed softly and headed upstairs, your footsteps light on the wooden steps.

As you reached the top of the stairs, the familiar creak of the floorboards beneath your feet sounded like a warning. You paused for a moment outside the bedroom door, taking a deep breath to brace yourself for whatever awaited you inside.

Pushing the door open, you were greeted by a sight that was both hilarious and slightly terrifying. There lay Melissa, dead asleep, and nestled under the covers completely oblivious to the tiny artist hovering over her with a small tube of blue face paint in hand.

Your son stood at the edge of the bed, his hands clutching the object firmly. The expression on his face was one of intense concentration as he prepared to embark on his artistic mission.

A rush of laughter bubbled up in your throat, but you quickly stifled it, not wanting to startle either of them. “Nicholas Alexander Schemmenti!” you scolded calmy, trying to keep your tone light, but the amusement and concern made it difficult. “What are you doing?”

“Mommy looks like she needs some paint!”

You couldn’t help but shake your head at the sight. It was both adorable and slightly terrifying to see your daughter with a paintbrush in one hand and her imagination running wild. You stepped further into the room, prepared to intervene if the chaos escalated any further.

Nicholas was being incredibly meticulous for a newly three-year-old, his tiny fingers streaking and smudging the paint all over your wife’s face while humming to himself. He had gone for bold strokes across Melissa’s cheeks and forehead, creating a bizarrely abstract yet charming masterpiece. The older woman didn’t stir once during the entire process. Not even when Nicholas decided to add a final touch—a big blue dot on the tip of her nose.

Leaning against the wall with your arms crossed, you couldn't stop laughing with your hands over your mouth and your eyes wide. But then, you realized what kind of storm would brew when Melissa woke up. Still, the sight was too precious to ruin, so you grabbed your phone and snapped a quick photo for posterity. She wouldn't mind later, would she?

You had to stifle a snort as you watched the redhead boy beam at his creation, feeling nothing but pride at his artistic endeavor. For a moment, you contemplated waking her up gently and explaining the situation. But… you decided to let your wife get a test of her own medicine, since she was a practical joker and never got what she really deserved.

Instead, you made a quick decision. You hastily removed any mirrors from the bedroom and the bathroom Melissa normally used. If you were going to let this play out, you were going to commit. You just needed to keep her unaware for as long as possible—at least until the crew arrived.

“Come on, Nick,” you whispered, ushering him out of the room before Melissa stirred. “Let Mommy sleep.”

Nicholas looked up at you with wide eyes, smiling as if he had just completed the Mona Lisa. “She looks pretty,” he whispered back holding your hand.

You ruffled his messy curls, trying not to laugh. “Yes, she does, bud.”

—

By mid-afternoon, Melissa finally woke up, still blissfully unaware of her new ridiculous blue face. You had managed to keep her distracted for most of the day, and she hadn’t once noticed that all of the mirrors were mysteriously missing. She wandered into the living room, still groggy, yawning loudly as she scratched the back of her head.

“Hon, why didn’t you wake me up earlier?” she grumbled, leaning against the counter. “I overslept.”

“You needed it,” you said, forcing a straight face as you chopped more vegetables. Her green eyes still looked heavy and glossy with sleep, and you could tell she was trying to shake off the lingering drowsiness.

Melissa scowled a bit, rubbing at her face absentmindedly—smearing the blue paint even further across her cheek. You had to turn away quickly, pretending to fuss over the stove as a laugh bubbled in your throat. “Yeah, yeah,” she mumbled. “So, what time’s everyone comin’ over?”

“Should be here in about an hour,” you answered, working hard to suppress your amusement. “Everything’s almost ready.”

She nodded, yawning again as she headed toward the bathroom. “I’m gonna freshen up, babe,” she called over her shoulder. You immediately panicked, moving quickly to intercept her.

“No, wait! Maybe…don’t go in the bathroom yet,” you rambled, waving her off casually. “I, uh, spilled something in there, and it’s a bit of a mess.”

Melissa turned and raised an eyebrow at you. “What? You spill somethin’?” she asked skeptically.

“Yeah,” you said quickly, nodding. “It’s a bit of a disaster. Let me clean it up first.”

She narrowed her eyes, but shrugged. “Alright, whatever. But you owe me a coffee tomorrow for letting me sleep in so late.”

You let out a relieved breath as she moved to the kitchen, completely bypassing any reflective surfaces. For the next hour, you managed to keep her busy while finishing up dinner, all the while making sure she had no opportunity to discover what had been done to her face.

The doorbell rang a little after five, and soon enough, the Abbott crew trickled in. Janine and Gregory were first, followed closely by Jacob and Barbara. Ava and Mr. Johnson, true to form, came last, with the principal dramatically announcing her entrance like she was arriving at the Met Gala.

Your wife, unaware of the blue mess still decorating her face, greeted everyone with her usual no-nonsense attitude. She was grumbling about how you’d let her sleep too long and how she hadn’t had enough time to properly wake up. Everyone else, however, could hardly look her in the eye without their faces twitching in suppressed laughter and shock.

“Hey, Schemmenti!” Ava called from across the room, smirking as she eyed the eldest. “Looking real fresh today. Did you do something different?”

The redhead’s eyes narrowed as she glanced over at her. “What’re you talkin’ about, Coleman?”

Ava smirked but shrugged casually, shooting a look at the others. Janine, Jacob, and Barbara were all biting their lips, trying their hardest not to laugh. Even Gregory was barely holding it together, his eyes shifting nervously and in an awkward manner as if he was afraid of bursting out in laughter and facing Melissa’s wrath.

“Nothing, nothing,” Janine said quickly, her voice squeaky with barely restrained giggles. “You just seem… refreshed.”

The second grade teacher grunted, raising a brow. “Uh-huh. Sure, lowercase.”

You silently wrapped an arm around your wife’s waist, fighting back a chuckle. She looked absolutely ridiculous, but surprisingly adorable.“Be nice to Janine, baby.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

Barbara broke the silence, her brow furrowed in mock seriousness as she tried to hide her amusement. “Shall we eat?”

“Yeah!” The entire crew chimed in unison, laughter bubbling up as they eagerly gathered around the table, ready to dive into dinner despite Melissa’s bizarre appearance.

Dinner was set up on the dining table, and everyone gathered around, trying their hardest to act normal. Melissa sat at the head of the table, completely oblivious to the paint still streaked across her face. You were honestly amazed at how long you’d managed to keep this going.

As everyone dug into the meal, the conversation was light and casual. But beneath the surface, the tension of suppressed laughter was palpable. Everyone kept sneaking glances at Melissa, their shoulders shaking from the effort of not losing it entirely. She seemed to sense that something was off, her sharp eyes darting around the room, trying to figure out what was so funny.

You could see the gears in her head turning. She nudged you, and you gave her an innocent smile.

“You’re too quiet,” she whispered. “What’re you hiding from me?”

“Nothing. Just enjoying the night, honey.”

You shot a wink at Nicholas, who was happily sitting at Melissa’s side, munching on his mac and cheese like he hadn’t turned the dinner into a comedic spectacle.

Finally, in the middle of a conversation about some ridiculous thing Ava had said at development day, Nicholas climbed out of his high chair and wandered over to his mother. He tugged on her sleeve, a big innocent grin on his face.

“Mommy,” Nicholas said in a loud whisper. “You’re blue!”

Melissa blinked down at her, her expression deadpan. “Huh?! What’re you talkin’ about, kiddo?”

“You’re blue!” the boy spoke again, giggling and pointing at her face.

For a split second, she just stared at her son, completely confused. Then, she looked up at the table, and that’s when the dam finally broke.

It started with Jacob, who snorted so loudly that his drink nearly came out of his nose. Janine was next, practically falling out of her chair with laughter. Barbara tried to maintain her composure but failed, her laugh spilling out as she covered her mouth. Gregory chuckled quietly, while Ava leaned back in her chair, smirking like she had been waiting for this moment all night.

“What the hell is goin’ on here?” Melissa asked, her voice dripping with irritation. Her eyes flicked from one person to the next, her brow furrowed in confusion.

You couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Lissa… baby… Nick… he painted your face while you were asleep.”

There was a moment of silence as your wife processed your words. Then, her eyes widened. “What?!”

She shot up from the table, nearly knocking her chair over in her haste to get to the nearest reflective surface. She stormed down the hall and into the bathroom, where you had finally replaced the mirror. A second later, a loud, horrified yell echoed through the house and the whole neighborhood.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me!” The redhead shouted. “I look like a damn Smurf!”

Everyone at the dinner table dissolved into uncontrollable laughter, even Mr. Johnson letting out a rare chuckle. You covered your mouth, trying to stifle your giggles as Melissa stormed back into the dining room, her face freshly scrubbed but still faintly tinted blue in some spots.

She pointed at you, clearly annoyed. “You think this is funny, huh?”

You bit your lip, nodding as you approached her. “A little,” you admitted. “But you still look cute.”

She shot you a deadly glance, the look on her face practically screaming. Why didn’t you stop him? You just shrugged.

Melissa sat down at the wooden chair with a huff, her cheeks still faintly tinted blue despite her efforts to scrub it all off. She reached for her glass of wine, taking a long sip while glaring at everyone, especially Ava, who seemed the most entertained.

“I swear to God,” she muttered, shaking her head as she looked down. “One more damn laugh outta any of you, and I’ll—”

Before she could finish, another round of giggles erupted, this time from Janine, who was struggling to contain herself. Jacob, too, was snickering, his face turning red as he tried to take a sip of water. Barbara, who was usually the calm and composed one, couldn’t hide the grin spreading across her face.

“Alright, that’s it!” Melissa slammed her hand down on the table, making everyone jump. She turned to Nicholas, who was sitting beside her, completely oblivious to the chaos he had caused. Leaning over, the older woman gently placed her hands over his ears, covering them with care. “Okay, bambino, cover your ears for a second, okay? Mommy’s gotta say somethin’ to the idiots at the table.”

The toddler giggled, thinking it was a game, and nodded enthusiastically. “Okay, Mommy!” he chirped, his small hands coming up to cover his own ears under Melissa’s.

With Nick’s ears safely blocked, Melissa turned back to the group, her green eyes narrowing as she leaned in, her voice low and dripping with mock-threat. “You guys wanna keep laughin’? Keep it up. See what happens. I swear I’ll make your lives a living hell. Janine, I’ll volunteer you for every damn committee at Abbott. PTA? All you. Science fair? Hope you like buildin’ volcanoes.”

Janine immediately stopped laughing, her eyes wide as she waved her hands in defense. “Wait—Melissa, no! I—”

“Too late, Teagues,” she growled, pointing a finger at her. “You started this.”

“And you, Hill,” Melissa turned her gaze to the next target, her voice even more menacing, “I’ll throw every tech problem your way. Oh, the projector’s broken again? Guess who’s fixin’ it. All of ‘em. Every. Single. One. Even if they ain’t broken, I’ll say they are.”

Jacob’s laughter died in his throat, replaced with a nervous chuckle. “Okay, okay, message received,” the social studies teacher said, raising his hands in surrender. “No more laughing. Promise.”

“And Gregory,” Melissa said, her eyes locking onto him next. “You wanna keep smilin’ over there, huh? I’ll personally make sure you’re stuck with Ava in her damn bunker away from Janine.”

Gregory’s smirk quickly faded as Ava cackled across the table, leaning back in her chair like she had won some kind of victory. “That’s right,” she said smugly. “Ain’t nobody wants to stay with me in my bunker. Not even you, Gregory.”

The man’s face twisted into a grimace. “I-I wasn’t laughing that hard, Melissa. Really. Just… a little smile.”

“If you say so.” She narrowed her eyes, not convinced.

Finally, she turned to Ava, her annoyance reaching its peak. “And you, Ava,” she growled, her voice low and dangerous. “You’re already walkin’ on thin ice, so I don’t even gotta threaten you. You just wait—next time you leave the school for more than ten minutes, I’m tellin’ everyone about that talk you had with the man who came to inspect our school. You know the one I’m talkin’ about.”

Ava’s cocky grin faltered, her eyes widening in panic as she leaned forward. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Try me,” your wife said with a devilish grin.

At that, everyone went silent. The only sounds were the clinking of cutlery and the faint hum of the refrigerator as Melissa sat back in her chair, looking satisfied with herself. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched her regain control of the situation. Even with a face still tinged blue, Melissa Ann Caterina Schementi was a force to be reckoned with.

[dragon-kazansky]

The song in our hearts

Lestat De Lioncourt x Female Reader

A musician with a heart that sings and an admirer who wishes to see his songbird thrive. Two beings in different worlds get caught up in each other when someone threatens to steal his songbird's spotlight. Loving Lestat isn't simple, and your life will never be the same again. What is eternity without chaos?

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Prepare to meet my plot device lol

Chapter Three - Third wheel

You're sitting at your piano in the empty theater mindlessly playing notes. The melody is new, something no one had ever heard before. You had taken the opportunity of no one being here to come to your familiar friend and play the tune in your heart.

You were so lost in the melody that you hadn't heard the door open and close. Nor did you hear the footsteps coming down the aisle of chairs.

The call of your name as your music ending shortly, unfinished. You sigh and look up to see the manager of the theater waiting for your attention.

“Yes?”

“I hadn't heard that one before,” he says, smiling at you.

You sigh again. “Of course not. It's new. That's not why you came in here is it?” You ask.

He laughs. “No. It isn't. I want to introduce you to someone.”

You can feel yourself wanting to groan. He knew how much you hated actually talking to people, but you wanted to keep him happy. He was, after all, your only chance to perform.

You stand from the piano and hop down from the stage. Jack, the manager, rolls his eyes at you. He often tells you off for doing that during rehearsals.

You now take notice of the man behind Jack. He's about your age, sandy brown hair, green eyes. You look from him to Jack.

“This is Noah. He's a singer.” Jack states.

You nod and look between them both wondering why he wanted you to meet this man. Plenty of people come and go from this theater, you don't usually meet them all personally.

“Noah has a request and I think it's a fabulous idea,” Jack goes on. “How would you feel about playing for him while he sings? You could be a duo!”

You stare at Jack. Noah is smiling softly from behind him. He takes a step forward and you turn your attention to him.

“I adore your talent. I have seen you perform several times and every time I hear you play I feel like all my worries melt away. I want you to play while I sing. I think we could go quite far together, perhaps even be good enough to see the world.”

Those were some strong words.

“I play solo,” you say.

“Hey now, give him a chance,” Jack says. “Look, you're our best performer here. Most of our audience come to see you play your piano. I think it's time to switch things up and try something new.”

“I don't want to try something new. I want to do what makes me happy,” you tell him.

He says your name with a smile, but you don't hang about to listen. You flee the theater and seek refuge in your dressing room.

You're alone in your dressing room for a good few minutes before you hear a knock on your door. You expect it to be Amelie perhaps seeing if you're in here, but usually she just comes in. You don't say anything for a while, preferring to stay alone if it isn't her. However, the door opens and someone comes in. You turn and find yourself face to face with Noah.

You frown.

“I'm sorry, but I couldn't leave knowing I'd offended you. Please just hear me out.”

You sigh softly and turn around in your stool. Noah takes a seat on the table behind him. “I know music is your passion. I've seen you perform many times. To be able to sing while you play… that would be a dream.”

“I play solo.”

“I know… you said that. I just… I think we could be good together. Imagine what magic we could create together. How many people would come to see us?” He smiles wide, excited by the thought.

It is clear popularity is important to him.

“I don't care. Music is all I care about.” And making Lestat happy with your music, of course. After that evening with him, he has been on your mind a lot.

“You can still play your music, just allow me to sing over it. Let me voice meld with your melody.” He speaks sweetly. Almost too sweetly.

“No.”

Noah sighs and then nods. “I understand. I'm sorry I disturbed you.”

Noah takes his leave. You sigh and slump down at your dressing table.

That following Friday you're waiting to get onto the stage to play your beloved piano, especially knowing Lestat would be watching. Perhaps he would permit you to go to his house again to play a duet with him. You certainly hoped so.

While waiting for your name to be called Noah comes up beside you. He adjusts his cufflinks mindlessly in the corner of your eye. You do not spare him a glance, keeping your eyes focused on your favorite instrument ahead of you.

“Good luck tonight,” he says.

You didn't need luck. You just needed your music.

“I'm sure you'll amaze the crowd tonight.”

You once again don't respond to him. Noah chuckles. You hear your name being called and you take a deep breath before walking out onto the stage.

Upon reaching the piano you turn to the crowd, but you're not really looking at them. You're only looking for one face. You spot him up in the boxes. You smile softly when your eyes land on him. He must notice your smile because he smiles too. Knowing Lestat was there was a comfort to you.

Lestat appreciated your music. He understood it. He understood you.

You take a seat at the bench and take another deep breath. Your fingers hover the keys. You imagine for just a moment that Lestat is beside you on the bench. You think about that night in his house when you made music together and how happy you felt in that moment.

Lestat knows.

You begin to play, a smile on your face. You're so ready to give a performance to be proud of, to make this a night to remember, not only for yourself, but for your admirer too. You wanted Lestat to enjoy your gift.

However, this would be a night to remember for all the wrong reasons. As you get into it, you're interrupted by a deep voice singing behind you. Not once missing a note you glance behind you to see Noah enter the stage. He walks to the center and sings with all his might. You stare at him with pure confusion. You did not agree to this.

Catching Jack’s eye off to the left side of the stage you can see him shaking his head at you. He doesn't look the least bit sorry. You turn your eyes back to the piano and try and focus on the music. However, that attention grabbing voice is making it difficult for you to enjoy your music.

Noah was owning the stage. People weren't listening to your music any more. They all had their eyes on Noah. Now, a crowd watching you wasn't your desire, but it was the thought that they were paying mkre attention to him than your magic that irritated you.

When you finished the piece you expected him to leave, but he didn't. He accepted the applause and then looked at you, urging you to keep on playing.

You stared at him with a frown.

“Play,” he says quietly.

You grit your teeth and begin playing the next piece. He smiled back at the crowd and then began to sing. For the next half house he sang though every piece of magic you played. He had taken your moment for his own and you hated it.

Up in his box, Lestat glared at the man. He gripped his arm rest so hard it began to splinter. Who was this fool who dared take away from your beautiful melody?

Lestat could read your thoughts. This was not something you wanted. You were upset that this man had taken it upon himself to perform with you without your consent.

That would not do.

The half hour of your performance felt so much longer to Lestat. He was eager to leave his box and go down to your dressing room, however, you were still playing and he didn't want to miss a moment to lay his eyes upon you, no matter how grating that voice was. Could this even be considered singing?

As soon as the show was over Lestat left his box quickly.

You hurried down to your dressing room as soon as you were free from the stage. You began to pace around the space of the room quickly. Amelie was first to enter. She was quickly to start chatting.

“I had no idea he was going to do that. I know you said no to his request, so I knew you had no intention of that happening. I am so sorry I didn't stop him, but it was too late. When I realised what he was doing I couldn't stop him, not without making a scene.”

You don't reply, just continue pacing.

The next one to enter is Noah, followed by Jack. You glare at Jack. “What was that?”

“That was me showing you how good we could be together,” Noah says.

“I wasn't asking you!” You glare at him and turn back to Jack. “I play solo.”

“I know, but surely it wasn't so bad to give it a chance.”

“You humiliated me!”

“You two work so well together,” Jack argues.

“No. No we don't.”

Jack calla your name softly, but it's Noah who speaks up. “Look, sweetheart, do you have any idea how adored we were? We had then on the edge of their seat.”

“They were on the edge of their seat because they were straining to hear the piano!” You bite back.

Noah laughs.

Amelie steps forward and rubs your arms with comfort. You lean into her embrace and let her soothe you.

“We could go global,” Noah comments.

“No. No, I refuse to let you spoil my moment. It's my music.”

“Look, that was the most popular you had been since you started performing here,” Jack tells you. “You need to let Noah worl with you. Surely you don't want to be stuck here all your life.”

“I like it here…”

Silence fills the room as they all look at you. Amelie is still trying to comfort you. Noah and Jack are staring you down. They want you to cave in.

There's a knock at your door and then a familiar voice. “If I may interrupt.”

You feel relief when you see Lestat slink into the room. He instantly makes his way over to you, pushing past Noah to reach you. You smile as he comes over. Lestat stands in front of you and uses his finger to tilt your chin up. He smiles.

“Are you alright?” He asks.

You nod your head slightly.

Lestat smiles and drops his hand. He joins you at your side. Amelie is shocked to see him here but doesn't say anything. You feel Lestat place his hand on your lower back.

“Who are you?” Jack asks.

“Ah, I apologise.” Lestat grins. “Lestat De Lioncourt. The sponsor for this pure talent in the room.”

“I've never met you,” Noah says, looking him up and down with a deep frown.

“I said for the talent,” Lestat retorts. He then turns to you with a smile. “Shall we go, mon chéri?”

You simply nod your head which makes him smile. Just as you're both about to make your exit, Noah steps forward. “I'm sorry, but who are you? Where are you going?”

“I don't think that's your business. Come, dear, let us go.” Lestat guides you out of the room.

As you leave the theater he puts his coat over your shoulders and walks with you down the street. There's silence between you for a little while, but then Lestat breaks it.

“Who was that man?”

“I don't really know. Jack, the manager, introduced him to me earlier in the week. He's called Noah. Claims he's a fan of my music and wants to sing to it. I tried to tell Jack I play solo… but Noah took it upon himself to join the performance tonight.”

Lestat looks displeased.

“Are you alright?” You ask softly.

He turns to you and smiles. “Yes. Do not fret. I shall not let that man take away your sparkle.”

“You told Jack you were my sponsor. I don't have a sponsor.”

He grins again. “You do now.”

You look at him in wonder. “Why?”

He chuckles. “Is it not obvious?” You shake your head. He chuckles again. “I want you to bloom.”

A warmth floods your chest as the thought that this man you have only known a short while cared so much about your passion. The smile on his face almost made you believe he knew just how happy hearing those words had made you.

“Thank you.”

“There is no need to thank me,” he tells you. “This is my gift to you.”

Lestat walked you home and did not leave until he was certain you were safe inside. Even then, he took his time heading back. He was not about to let some pathetic human man ruin your beauty.

@awanderingghost @theprettiesthead @cosmixstar @theblueslytherin @katherine2098 @sawendel @floofdeloop @sitkafay @bigbaddie45 @bluscryn

@secretisme4

[twistedkans]

Yours - Part One

→ A Glorious Masquerade Malleus x Reader x Rollo commission for my bestie

Warnings: mild Rollo-typical psuedoreligious content Characters: Yuu (Reader), Rollo Flamme, Malleus Draconia Word Count: 1.6k

Part Two | Part Three

(Also available on Ao3)

༻ My Heart ༺

“I miss you deeply, unfathomably, senselessly, terribly.” �� Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena

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“...Magic is such a troublesome thing. Wouldn’t you agree?” Rollo’s eyes looked through yours, as if analyzing your very soul. There was a fire behind his gaze, waiting to be ignited. It made you feel a bit self-conscious.

He continued without giving you the chance to respond. “I can only imagine how arduous it must be to spend your days surrounded by a gaggle of rambunctious, foolhardy mages.” His body was rigid, and his lips were pursed, curling downwards at the edges ever so slightly to form an almost imperceptible scowl. Expectant of a long-winded tangent, you kept your mouth shut.

“The world would be much better off without magic and the chaos it brings. Surely, you must have had similar thoughts?” As he spoke, he extended his arms out in an almost welcoming yet sorely off-putting manner, like that of a religious figurehead. His voice carried a similar authority that made you want to crawl in a hole and hide, but he almost sounded desperate at the same time.

In his mind, he knew he was right. You were just an unfortunate, magicless human stuck with a bunch of mages. They were nothing but wild animals that could snap at any moment, but you weren’t the same.

You were perfect.

And maybe you could agree with him, to a certain extent. All those overblots you witnessed—and had to deal with—were caused by magic, and plenty of other tricky situations you and your friends had found yourselves in had magic at their forefront. Magic was as spectacular as it was troublesome, but it depended on how it was used, did it not?

You did not say this to him. This didn’t need to be some deep conversation, and really, you didn’t want this to be a conversation at all, at least not with Rollo.

You brushed off his words with a shrug. “I’m used to it.” Though the man before you clearly expected more, that fire in his eyes blooming into something hungry, you didn’t dignify him with a single word more.

Rollo’s scowl morphed into a piteous frown. “Oh you poor thing. You have yet to realize the burden you carry.” His voice was soft and cooing, a stark contrast to the monotonous apathy that always spilled from his lips. It sent a shiver down your spine.

Rollo’s eyes fell shut as he took a single second to internally compose himself. “Worry not, my dear…friend, the pain such practices bring shall no longer reach you.”

There was a pause, and you had your fingers crossed that Rollo wouldn’t open his mouth again so you could leave. You didn’t want to be rude, nor could you afford to be rude and potentially tarnish your reputation and that of Night Raven College, but this conversation was an annoyance at best and panic-inducing at worst.

You didn’t trust Rollo, but you felt that he was already revealing more of himself than he would with others. As much as it deigned you to consider the thought, as little as you cared for anything he had to say, perhaps Rollo was just out of touch, isolated by his own views, and in need of someone he could talk to.

You could be that person for him, couldn’t you?

That was what he wanted you to think, without realizing it was what he wanted.

“I’ll keep you safe, Yuu.”

What?

“Hey, Yuu! You’ve got better things to do than stand around.” You were pulled from your thoughts when Grim jumped up on your shoulder and waved his hands in your face, which caused you to stumble back and land on the ground.

You groaned in pain. “Ow, Grim!”

But Grim was far too excited to notice. He created fireworks with his magic to show you, and you found yourself smiling and laughing with him. Your conversation with Rollo was pushed from your mind.

Rollo, however, could not keep his eyes off of you, for your joy was both a blessing and a sin.

“...Hmph.” Rollo held his handkerchief to his mouth as he spoke, and his sharp gaze was the only indicator of his foul mood.

That gaze of his, critical and filled with the fires of hell, followed you around the square.

And oh the things he wished to say, the things he wished to do, yet he too could not tarnish his reputation. Not yet. No, he could not let you see who he truly was.

They would pay, and you would be saved.

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Laughter and dancing surrounded you, vibrant colors filled your vision, and the sweet scent of Fleur City delicacies made your mouth water. Everyone was having a good time, yourself included. Even when you didn’t feel like dancing or jumping around anymore, you were content to sit on the sidelines while Grim showed off.

Fireworks in their abundant colors and rays of spectacularity distracted you from all thoughts, and you were unaware of the presence behind you.

Someone’s breath tickled your neck, and a familiar low chuckle rang through your ear. It was only then you realized who had disappeared from the festivities.

“Hornton?” You tilted your head and were greeted by a pair of emerald green eyes and a toothy smirk.

“Are you enjoying yourself, child of man?”

And for a single moment, one that lasted an eternity, time froze. Your senses were starved, consumed, and overwhelmed by Malleus Draconia. The burning taste of fire, like the hot breath against his neck, or his lips on yours and what you imagined he would taste like. The scent of flames, of the forest, of death, pleasantly so. The lull of his voice, low and deep, melancholic like that of a gentle wind or light rain. The touch of leather as a finger ran along your jaw and grazed your neck in a way that gave you goosebumps.

Those emerald green eyes, brighter than any gemstone, staring into yours as if you were the most valuable treasure in the dragon’s collection.

You masked your nerves with a chuckle, but that didn’t stop the blood from flushing your cheeks. “Yeah, it’s been really fun. I’m just a bit tired…”

Malleus gave you a thoughtful look. His voice dropped to a whisper, spoken like a hidden secret revealed for your ears only. “Follow me, if you so desire.”

You watched him turn with a swish of his cape and walk off to one of the nearby alleys. It took you only a moment to gather your senses as your surroundings flooded them to enter the alley behind Malleus.

The sounds of Topsy-Turvy Square grew more and more distant as you traversed through the dimly-lit alleyway. Every sound put you on edge, but in your mind, you knew nothing bad would happen to you.

Those same emerald eyes were waiting for you, and you could tell the fae wore that same smile as always when you spoke with him. Something pulled you forward.

A hand reached out, and you took it, not thinking twice. “You came. Thank you for accepting my invitation.”

“You knew I would,” you replied with a sweet smile that Malleus cherished in his heart.

There was silence, a comfortable quietude as you took in his features, from the strands of hair that fell past his chin, shimmering even in darkness like raven feathers, to the pale pointed ears with tips tinted pink, to his arms only covered by a sheer black fabric, revealing more skin than you had ever seen of him before.

You dared to step forward. From this position, you had to tilt your upwards just to peer at his face. He wasn’t looking at you, rather, his gaze followed the path through the alley from which you emerged. His voice fell to a soft, melodic murmur, almost as if he were talking to himself. “Indeed I did.”

Silence. Tranquility. Your own heart beating in your ears. Words caught on your throat.

Malleus finally looked down at you. To him, you were a treasure, something so precious and close to his heart that it ached for you every moment of every day. Even before he met you, he yearned for you. You were the missing piece in his heart, the one meant to be close to him, to break through the surface and discover who Malleus Draconia really is.

He was the siren luring you deep into the recesses of his heart, so that you may carve your name into his very being.

“I missed you, child of man.”

You could never realize the weight of those words on his heart. How it yearned for you.

Innocently, you replied, “I’m sorry if you wanted to spend more time with me today. We can go back to the square and hang out if you want.”

Malleus ran his fingers up your arm, stopping at your shoulder, where he gently but firmly gripped. “Do not apologize, it has been my pleasure to watch you enjoy yourself so much.”

The two of you never returned to Topsy-Turvy Square.

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Harsh, uncalloused fingers gripped an ink pen with fervor. Sharp eyes followed each word as it was written with elegant curves and curls, with only the bright glow of a crackling fireplace for light. A single sentence was spoken with a soft, pleading tone.

“I love you, Yuu.”

I won’t let him take you away from me.

I can save you.

I will save you.

For all he wanted to say, there was nothing more to be said. He was aware of the dangers of such love, the sacrifice he was due to pay, and the torment he would put himself through for repentance.

And, of course, he was well aware of the horned fae who watched his every movement with piercing green eyes.

Just to spite him, he repeated himself.

“I love you, Yuu.”

[dee-writes-smut]

Crowded Battlefields: Lost Hearts (Eris Week Day Three)

FEATURING Eris Vanserra x Reader

SUMMARY sometimes we must hurt those we love in order to protect them... or at least, that's what you were always taught, seems Eris doesn't agree.

CONTENT WARNINGS angst, descriptions of battlefield/war-like setting, betrayal, hurt, absolutely no comfort, just pain here, guilt, poor bb Eris :(

AUTHORS NOTE happy day three of @erisweekofficial!!! I'm running a bit late with this one, apologies, but that just means you get two posts in a day!! As always, I hope you all enjoy! <3

The battlefield was nothing like you had imagined it would be. There was no glory in the chaos, no honor in the blood that stained the ground beneath your feet. The sky was painted in an unforgiving shade of gray, the air thick with the metallic tang of iron and the acrid smell of smoke.

But none of that compared to the weight of the guilt pressing down on you like a shroud.

Eris stood across from you, his amber eyes burning with a fire that had once made you feel safe, loved. Now, that fire was cold, hardened by betrayal. His usually sharp features were marred by disbelief and anger, and he stood rigid, as if holding himself back from crossing the distance between you. His hands trembled by his sides, and you knew it wasn’t from fear.

It was from the weight of the sword he was now forced to raise against you.

You tried to breathe, but each inhale felt more difficult than the last. There were no words that could ease the torment in his gaze, no explanations that would soothe the storm you had created by aligning yourself with Hybern.

He opened his mouth, as if to speak, but nothing came out. The hurt in his eyes, the confusion—it was all too much. You could almost feel his heart breaking as he searched your face for answers, for a reason why the person he had once loved more than anything was standing on the side of his enemies.

“Why?” His voice was a raw whisper, barely audible over the din of war behind you.

You swallowed hard, the taste of ash on your tongue. You had practiced this moment in your mind, how you would explain your decision to him, how you would defend yourself, but now, standing in front of him, words abandoned you. Everything felt like an excuse, hollow and meaningless in the face of the devastation you had caused.

“I had no choice, Eris.” It sounded pathetic, even to your own ears. “You have to understand, I—”

“No choice?” His voice was louder now, cutting through the heavy air like a blade. “You chose this.” He gestured to the carnage around you, to the armies clashing in the distance, to the torn banners of Hybern fluttering in the wind. “You chose to stand with them.”

You flinched at the venom in his tone, your chest tightening painfully as his words sank in. He was right, of course. You had made a choice. You had made the decision to betray him, to leave behind everything the two of you had built together, for reasons that, at the time, had seemed justified. But now, faced with the wreckage of your actions, it all felt like a mistake.

“I did it for survival,” you choked out, your hands shaking as you tried to hold onto whatever remnants of your resolve you had left. “I did it to protect myself, to protect the people I cared about.”

Eris’s laugh was cold, humorless. “And yet here you stand, leading Hybern’s army against the very people you claimed to protect.” His gaze hardened. “Against me.”

You couldn’t meet his eyes anymore, your shame weighing heavily on your shoulders. You had known the consequences of your decision the moment you had made it, but nothing had prepared you for the reality of seeing the pain in Eris’s face, the anger in his voice, or the way his hands curled into fists as if he couldn’t decide whether to strike you down or fall apart.

“I never wanted it to come to this,” you whispered, but even as the words left your mouth, you knew they weren’t enough. Nothing would be enough to undo what you had done.

His lips twisted into a bitter smile. “But it did. And now, here we are.”

You could feel the tremor in the air between you, the tension so thick it was suffocating. Memories of the life you had once shared flashed through your mind—quiet moments in the Autumn Court, stolen kisses beneath the canopy of trees, the warmth of his hand in yours as you navigated the complicated world of politics and war. All of it was gone now, reduced to ash by your own hand.

And it was too late to take it back.

“I loved you.” The words were a quiet confession, as if Eris was only now realizing the depth of the betrayal. His voice cracked, just for a moment, before he steeled himself again. “I would’ve given you everything.”

Your throat burned with unshed tears, but you refused to cry. Not here. Not now. You had made your bed, and now you had to lie in it.

“I loved you too,” you said softly, the admission breaking you apart inside. “But love wasn’t enough.”

Eris’s eyes darkened, a storm brewing in their depths. “No. I suppose it wasn’t.”

Silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. You could hear the battle continuing around you, the clang of swords and the screams of the wounded, but it all felt distant, as if the world had narrowed to just the two of you.

“What happens now?” you asked, though you already knew the answer.

Eris’s expression was unreadable as he took a step closer, his tall frame casting a shadow over you. “Now?” he repeated, his voice low and dangerous. “Now I do what I must.”

Before you could respond, his hand tightened around the hilt of his sword, and in one swift motion, he drew the blade from its sheath. The metal gleamed in the dim light, and for a moment, you thought he might strike you down right then and there.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he raised the sword to your throat, the tip resting just below your chin, forcing you to look up at him. His eyes, once full of warmth and affection, were cold and unforgiving now.

“You made your choice,” he said quietly, his voice laced with a sadness that cut deeper than any blade. “Now you have to live with it.”

You swallowed hard, the sharp edge of the sword grazing your skin.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “But I couldn’t stay.”

Eris’s jaw tightened, his hand steady on the sword. “You already did.”

With that, he lowered the blade, stepping back as if the very sight of you pained him. You watched as he turned his back on you, walking away without a single glance over his shoulder.

And as he disappeared into the chaos of the battlefield, you realized that the person you had betrayed the most wasn’t him.

It was yourself.

ERIS WEEK TAGLIST

@littlest-w01f @mp-littlebit

[kiarakarma]

For you, when do Hua Cheng and Wei Wuxian meet? I can't really imagine how they met or where

Good question, I hope I don't make this too long tho 😅😅😅

Here is my Headcanon on how Hua Cheng and Wei Wuxian meet:

So we all know a Bitch called Wen Chao.

He threw Wei Wuxian into the Burial Mounds, hoping he would die.

Yet Wei Wuxian didn't die but came back even stronger than before.

So what if he fell so deep into the Burial Mounds that his soul reached Ghost City?

While Wei Wuxian is at a loss and wanders around he follows a few 'people' (he doesn't know that he is currently a spirit).

Hua Cheng is alerted to a strong and powerful presence, other than his of course, entering his Ghost City. As he is seeking for the presence, he comes face to face with a lost Wei Wuxian.

Hua Cheng, the gentleman, decides to show Wei Wuxian around and the two share their knowledge with each other.

Wei Wuxian eventually tells him about the possibility of demonic cultivation and is prepared to be laughed at or judged as many others have done so. Yet Hua Cheng doesn't do either of those, instead he becomes intrigued and asks questions, fascinated by Wei Wuxian's mind.

Having found someone who would listen to him and support him, Wei Wuxian starts his journey into demonic cultivation. Hua Cheng is with him every step of the way.

Three months have passed and Wei Wuxian has finally broken through. He has become the creator of demonic cultivation and created the Yin Tiger Tally.

During those three months, Hua Cheng and Wei Wuxian grew closer and closer. They shared their life stories and their understanding reached a higher level.

When it was time for Wei Wuxian to return, he was hesitant on leaving.

On one side he had to go back to Jiang Cheng and Yanli and take revenge on the Wen Clan for eradicating the Jiang Clan.

On the other, he wanted to stay with the only person who understood him, who supported him no matter what, who he shared a bond so strong that he didn't know what it was...

He didn't want to leave Hua Cheng.

Yet he had to.

He knew. Hua Cheng knew.

Hua Cheng reassured Wei Wuxian that he will always be there for him. He will always watch out for him.

Hua Cheng created Chenqing as a gift for Wei Wuxian, knowing how he liked to play the flute.

Anyway this is sooooo long. I'm sooo sorry, I got so into it 😅😅😅

[which-qsmp-egg-would]

It's finally time for the February summary!

And you NEVER guess who won again!

Richarlyson

With 12/58 polls won (20%!!!) and another win under his belt, it's safe to say I'm scared of him. Richarlyson was voted most likely to:

Dig holes in the yard for no reason

Be a terror to a babysitter

Pretend to be kidnapped during a road trip

Try to get struck with lightning

Be a biter

Be better off if he were raised by wolves

Spin in an office chair enough to break it

Wear shorts in 0° weather

Lick a metal pole as a joke but get stuck

Be an Ethogirl

Start the plot of 'The Parent Trap'

Love 'Fortnite'

Wonderful chaos child.

SunnySideUp

Some things never change, do they? Coming in 2nd place for the 2nd month in a row, with 11/58 polls won, is our sunshine princess! They've been voted most likely to:

Sleep with no less than 7 blankets

Demand to paint her parent's nails

Watch Winx Club

Hold their breath to get what they want

Cry every time a parent takes her fishing

Drive around the island in a toy car

Become a leaf millionare on the playground

Wear light up shoes

Follow an internet tutorial to become a mythical creature

Have the most insane roleplay with barbie dolls

Make friendship bracelets

What perfect results for Tubbo's princess!

Dapper

I was actually surprised to see Dapper in 3rd this month! With a score of 9/58 polls won, she's certainly climbed the ranks this time! Dapper has been voted most likely to:

Be really into bugs

Have a dinosaur hyperfixation

Learn how to perform magic tricks

Be able to name every local animal species by name

Perform surgeries on his stuffed animals

Hyperfixate on 'Digimon: Digital Monsters'

Love 'Undertale'

Create "potions" in the bathtub

Collect mundane objects

Ah, just like his father. (I think they would love Digimon, and I will CRACK on this hill)

Pepito

Next is the littlest huevo ever, Pepito with 8/58 polls won! Pepito has been voted most likely to:

Climb a tree and get stuck

Have a comfort blanket that's probably falling apart

Have a pocket full of rocks by the end of the day

Sit on the floor to watch TV

Only sleep in a onesie

Wear velcro shoes because Pepito can't tie Pepito's laces

Accidentally call the teacher mom/dad

Be unable to keep a poker face

I'm realising how long this post is going to be now...

Tallulah

Now is when the point drop off happens. Coming in at 5/58 polls, Tallulah has been voted most likely to:

Eat flowers and judge them by color and taste

Make Valentine's day cards for everyone on the island

Write a musical for her siblings to play in

Cut her own hair

Be the teacher's pet

I'm glad to see her higher up on the list this month! I can't wait to see if her model gets redesigned, I'm confident it will look awesome.

Chayanne

Coming in just under his sister with 4/58 polls, Chayanne has been voted most likely to:

Be concerningly excited to go fishing

Read Sun Tzu's 'The Art of War'

Play the drums

Make a pillow fort to comfort a sibling after a nightmare

He may have come in lower this month, but I'm sure he's happy his sister is getting the attention.

Ramón

These next three are tied, with 3/58 polls won! Ramón has been voted most likely to:

Get really into Hide and Seek

Be on tech for Tallulah's musical

Join Richas in the plot of 'The Parent Trap'

Leonarda

With 3/58, Leonarda has been voted most likely to:

Pretend to be a werewolf on the full moon

Be raised by Wolves

Wear Heelies

Empanada

Now the last with 3/58, Empanada has been voted most likely to:

Sew cool outfits for her siblings

Exclusively eat poptarts in the morning

Have a sugar crash from all of the Valentine's day candy

I'm noticing a theme with those three.

Pomme & Chunsik

Unfortunately, Pomme and Chunsik did not win any polls in February. While Chunsik is the newcomer, Pomme hasn't won a poll yet! Although after that wonderful Paintball poll, I imagine that will change for March! Better luck next time, my complimentary-colored eggs.

[jerzwriter]

Thank you, Nonny, for this three-word ask. As someone who grew up in New York City and cities in New Jersey, the moment I saw your Trystan x Carolina prompt, I knew exactly what I wanted to do! I hope you enjoy this!

Book: Crimes of Passion Pairing: Trystan Thorne (M) x Carolina Rose (F!MC) Rating: Teen Words: 602, plus 2 text messages Summary: There's a blackout in New York City, and Trystan runs into some issues attempting to get home to Carolina.

A/N: This was just what I was looking for when I asked for 3 word asks! Just some light fun! Thanks so much for this, Nonny! Participating in @julychallenge Pink: Playfulness, Love, Fun Black: Seduction, Attraction,

Carolina lay atop her bed in her darkened room, with sweat dripping down her neck. It was only four PM, but the shades were drawn to keep the sun out as much as she could. She did her best to remain motionless—anything to help with the brutal heat. Heatwaves were never fun, but in New York City during a power outage? They were hell. She had been in the office when the lights flickered out, and Mafalda picked up her phone.

“Yep! Con Ed confirmed it, it's a blackout!”

“Ah, fuck,” Carolina groaned, tossing her pen across the desk. “Just what we need!”

“Yeah, well, with the heat as bad as it’s been, it was bound to happen sooner or later. At least it's still light out. Why don’t you head home? We can’t do anything here, and I’d prefer you were off the streets before dark.”

Carolina quickly took her up on the offer; she knew the chaos backouts could bring to the city and would be happy to avoid it. She text Trystan to fill him in.

Nearly an hour had passed, and despite her discomfort, she couldn't wait for Trystan to arrive. Suffering in this heat was not fun, but somehow, suffering together didn’t seem as bad.

A commotion on the street below caught her attention, and she jumped out of bed to see what was taking place. She peered out the window to find children laughing and running around a fire hydrant they had opened, spraying water everywhere. She smiled as she remembered the summers from childhood that she spent the same way. Her father would open the hydrant and then tell the children:

¡No les digas a los bomberos que un policía hizo esto! (Don't tell the firefighters a cop did this!)

Her phone beeped again, pulling her from her memories.

Carolina couldn’t help but laugh,  imagining Trystan impeccably dressed, now drenched from head to toe. When he knocked at her door, she rushed over to let him in. There he stood, water dripping from his normally well-coiffed hair, his designer clothes clinging to his frame. Carolina bit her lip to stifle a giggle, but when Trystan broke out laughing, she happily joined in.

“Well, this isn't quite how I envisioned my arrival,” he said, stepping inside.

Carolina shook her head, a grin spreading across her face. “You look ridiculous.”

He took her hands, pulling her close to him despite his dampened state.

“Ridiculous or not, I’m here. And so glad to be with you.”

She leaned into him, relishing the coolness of his wet clothes against her burning skin.

“I missed you too.”

Trystan looked around the darkened room. “So, back to our original discussion... what can we do without power?"

“I have a few ideas," she winked. "But first, let’s get you out of those clothes.”

“Wonderful!” He smiled, batting his eyelashes. “It sounds like we have the same idea!”

“No air conditioning, remember!”

“Lina,” he begged, gently trailing his tongue over her lips. “You’re not going to let a little thing like that get in our way, are you?”

“Of course not,” she smirked, taking his hand and leading him to the bathroom. “That’s why God created showers!”

“Shower sex!” He exclaimed. “I like it! Can we have another power outage tomorrow?”

Carolina pushed his back against the tile wall, her lips overtaking his as she turned the water on them – clothes on and all.

“That can be arranged,” she cooed.

For the remainder of the afternoon, the heat outside was nothing compared to the heat in Carolina's apartment.

@choicesficwriterscreations

Tagging others separately.

[p-h03n1-x]

Excerpt from Xiao Zhan’s interview and WeChat article posted by Elle "Xiao Zhan, The Simpler, The More Complex"

Part 3 Elle September 2024 magazine with Xiao Zhan. Link to part 1 here and part 2 here

ELLE: Do you watch any sci-fi movies or read sci-fi literature?

Xiao Zhan: Yes, I used to enjoy reading "Three-Body Problem." Recently, I’ve been watching some sci-fi shows, like the American series "Kaleidoscope" and "Chao's Adventure in Parallel Universe." They all touch on infinite loops and parallel universes. I find the concept of parallel universes fascinating because each choice you make could potentially create a different parallel universe.

ELLE: Do you ever imagine what Xiao Zhan in a parallel universe is like?

Xiao Zhan: Yes, I really do. For example, is he still an actor? Maybe he is, but is he still filming now? Is he still singing? Or is he a designer? Is he working for someone, or has he started his own business? (laughs) Yes, I really think about this.

ELLE: What about the future? What do you think it will be like?

Xiao Zhan: Wow, I actually think the future might see a return to simplicity. This world might become more beautiful, with people going back to more fundamental ways of communicating.

ELLE: That’s interesting. Why do you think that?

Xiao Zhan: Well, I’m personally a bit averse to the omnipresent nature of the internet. When we were kids and didn’t have phones, we’d chat over meals, and friends would call each other downstairs to play, hide-and-seek, and various games. I actually think those times were precious.

ELLE: Do you think the profession of acting will still exist then?

Xiao Zhan: I think it will. I believe as long as life continues, drama will continue. People need an outlet, and they need emotional resonance and solace, whether through images or sounds. So, I think that even if the world were to be destroyed, as long as people still exist, drama will definitely exist.

[bethbluebell]

new to you [ e.williams ] part 1

ellie williams x fem!reader

summary; being the new person in a tight knit community, you would think it’d be tough to create any meaningful relationships but oh were you wrong; and it might just be one new connection in particular that will ultimately be your downfall 

parts; 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 (ongoing series)

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

You can’t even remember how you felt or how your situation changed so fast.

After everything happened you started to question what you were actually living for. You desperately wanted to find a meaning to the constant suffering and how to find ways to fight it. You were head-strong, not easily defeated by most things. You were a natural born survivor, numb to experiences that would drive normal people insane.

To cut a long story short; you lost your dad, then your mother and not long ago your big brother. Your dad died just before you could comprehend the world around you, having no treasured memories to think back on but it still managed to hurt just the same.

It was scary being by yourself, you had never done it before. You’ve been attacked, stalked, beaten, shot at but you always had your family to help you bounce back from those traumas. It was easy to underestimate loneliness when the world around you was thrown into chaos.

You remember feeling numb. Unable to feel the cold rain pelting yourself as you stood just beyond the gates. Maybe you had trusted this guy named ‘Jesse’ too easily. Following him to the place he called home and entering without questioning his intentions.

You were badly injured, your skin and clothing staining a deep crimson. It was clear the adrenaline was wearing off but you still managed to move. Your eyesight was blurring, the heavy rain messing with your vision. You could hear voices but you couldn’t make out any words. You couldn’t even feel yourself breathing anymore.

The longer you closed your eyes the more enticing falling asleep felt. In that moment you stumbled, the harsh contact with the ground shocking you as you blacked out.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

It has been three months since you arrived at Jackson. Maria took you in when Jesse found you on a patrol, head to toe covered in blood. She reminded you of your mother and Jesse reminded you of your brother. It was clear they had no ill intentions when you woke up to a hot meal and your wounds neatly bandaged. They asked you questions but didn’t press too hard, they could only imagine what you endured before they found you.

Once you were back on your feet you were given small jobs here and there to ease yourself into the lifestyle. It was nice for a few days but eventually it got tedious. You wanted to do something a little more worthwhile. You started to take a massive interest in the patrol jobs asking Jesse about them. Maria was hesitant at first considering the state they found you in but Jesse convinced her to let you both patrol together. Jesse was the only person you really conversed with in Jackson but you knew you were the talk of the town, I mean your entrance really was something.

After patrolling for a few weeks with Jesse, Maria decided to give you a new partner for the morning patrol; Ellie Williams.

You were confused. Since you were still classed as inexperienced on the patrols you thought they’d partner you with one of the older guys. You were more so shocked that Maria suggested it. On a few occasions you have run into them having words, Maria was always the one to shut it down before it got too heated which ends up with Ellie walking off in a huff.

Maria said the pairing was due to both of your patrol partners Jesse and Dina being asked to thin out a horde so you and Ellie were tasked at patrolling buildings closer to Jackson. You knew Dina and Jesse were in a previous relationship so you would share a few words when hanging out in a big group but you never had the chance to talk to Ellie. Jesse would keep you up to date with his friends relationships like his and Dina's or Ellie and Cats; who was now her now ex-girlfriend.

You stuffed your backpack with all the necessities and slipped on a worn out hoodie due to the weather. Exiting the building you stumbled back lifting your left arm up. The suns golden beams were radiating all around just like rays. The glittering of the snow causing it to appear brighter, straining your eyes where it was almost painful. The patrols always started around sunrise. This was to make sure everyone got a decent amount of rest when they came back early afternoon.

It was a short walk until you met up with the other patrol groups gathering their horses and gear. You climbed upon your horse that you were overly fond of, she was a white horse called Blue. You began stroking her mane as Jesse sauntered his way over to you.

"I made the adjustments like you asked." Jesse announced pulling your shotgun from his half-open backpack and handing it over.

"What would I do without you." You replied teasingly taking the shotgun from his grasp. You asked if he could do anything to reduce the shotguns recoil and it looks like he succeeded. You always envied Jesse’s handiness, never being much good at it yourself. "Are you okay with taking the paired patrol with Dina? The last time I heard you were taking some time apart." You glanced over the shotgun once more awaiting a response.

There was a moment of hesitation as he debated on answering, “Yeah I don't see why not, we still talk on a daily basis but we just aren't together." Jesse replied lightly stroking Blue as he met his eyes with yours, "Listen, (Y/N). I'll be fine. Besides I should be asking you the same question about Ellie." He carried on as he nodded his head in her direction. Ellie was casually talking to Dina whilst sorting the supplies out in her bag.

Your eyes wandered back over to Jesse's in confusion, "Why would you need to ask that?"

"I guess I'm not expecting you to make an effort with her. The only people you really talk to is me and Maria, which isn't a bad thing of course!" You rolled your eyes and looked over at Ellie again.

"It's fine Jesse, you don't need to spare my feelings. I do promise to make an effort its just everyone seems so comfortable in their own little bubble.” He gives you a massive grin and pats your leg.

"Glad to hear it! I just hope you understand I'll be asking all about it once I get back." You laughed at his brotherly behaviour and said your goodbyes. You were pretty nervous as you had no idea what to expect from Ellie but you just hope you get along for the sake of the trip.

Once the gate opens everyone sets off on their different routes so you and Ellie were finally alone. She was riding ahead of you having done this route before which gave you the perfect conversation opener. 

"So, do you do this route often?" You could see Ellie's body freeze for a second at the sudden question, probably not expecting a conversation out of you so soon.

Ellie turned her head towards you before speaking, "Not really, do you?" You studied her side profile as she awaited your response. The route was hardly familiar but you could've swore Jesse took you along this path.

"Maybe once with Jesse, I can't really remember it though." Ellie hummed in response turning her head back. Your reply was vague but you weren’t exactly focusing on your words right now. The comfortable silence left you with your thoughts, your thoughts being clouded by the girl in front of you.

"What's the deal with you and Jesse anyways? You two seem close." Your eyes widened comically not understanding the intent behind her question. Ellie probably meant nothing by it but you took it as a sign of interest. Then again she could just be asking for Dina; her and Jesse did date after all.

You let out a small sigh toying with Blue’s mane, "I guess you could say that, Jesse was the one who brought me to you guys. I'm pretty sure you remember my grand entrance to Jackson." Upon replying to Ellie's question you had just gotten to the patrol point. You stationed your horse in the garage as Ellie had made her way over to you.

"Yeah that looked rough. Do you want to talk about it?" You paused, chewing on the inside of your cheeks as you quietly thought to yourself. Did you?

Ellie’s presence at the side of your horse threw you from your thoughts as you politely accepted her offer of helping you down.

You both decided to venture further into the building, not straying far from each other’s side. You briefly looked over at Ellie and noticed that she was staring back at you. You jumped in response and darted your eyes to the other side of the room, "Oh! Uh, I don't mind but I'm sure you've heard the story from somebody else." You climbed through the window trying your hardest to avoid the broken glass still present.

Ellie followed and made her way over to the logbook, “Please I don't listen to shit talkers like that." She commented sitting on the desk picking up the clipboard and pen, "Though, can't say I'm not curious."

Ellie/(Y/N) - All clear. -E

You gave her a small smile in response, "Ellie, it really is fine. I’m not going to lie and act like the bigger person when even I would want to know what happened." You sat next to her on the desk and breathed in, closing your eyes and fiddling with your fingertips. You could feel Ellie's eyes on you as she placed the clipboard down giving you her full attention.

You were traveling with your big brother after your mother had been shot multiple times by a group of trigger-happy hunters. That happened around two months ago and you could see the damage it was doing to your brother mentally. Despite this he always managed to keep you well fed and healthy. The day that Jesse found you was the day you lost your brother to the infection. He was bitten by a runner on his ankle due to him running out of bullets and not realising until it was too late. You managed to crush the runner's head with your foot but the damage had already been done.

Your brother looked so defeated as his eyes glazed over the bite. He looked like he was about to throw up as he fought the rising fear of facing the inevitable. Your heart leaped into your throat as you began piecing together the situation before you. Maybe it was the pent up emotions of losing your mom and now being forced to come to terms with losing your brother. You just couldn’t understand what went wrong.

Your brother knew what had to happen next to ensure your safety and shushed you saying it was okay. The raw panic noticeable in his voice as he held your face and looked you in the eyes, "You know what you have to do." Your body went cold as he reloaded his pistol and placed it in your hands. You looked up at him, lips trembling and eyes glistening with tears. You held onto the pistol firmly and hesitantly lifted it up to his forehead.

Your stomach clenched as you gripped the gun tighter,  "I love you."

Ellie noticed your change in demeanor and how you were biting your lip to try and hold back the tears. She began gently rubbing your back in circular motions to calm you down. You took two deep breaths and carried on twiddling your thumbs, "After I shot the gun I drew the attention of another horde in the area I suppose. Luckily, Jesse was patrolling at that time and got to me as I barely had enough ammo to defend myself. Who knew runners were so good at hand to hand combat?"

Ellie gave off a little laugh at that comment realising it was your way at trying to lighten the mood. You looked over at her and smiled, slowly dragging yourself off the desk. Ellie followed along quietly. She had an idea of what happened but it hit a lot deeper coming directly from you.

You cleared your throat slowly shuffling towards the exit, "We'd better head off to our next area. I don't want to disappoint Maria since I'm still new to this patrol business." You explained turning around to face her. It was nice patrolling with Ellie. Sure, doing it with Jesse was equally as good but you enjoyed the change.

"Doing it in pairs is fairly new to me too. I usually did it in groups." You paused and knitted your eyebrows together in disbelief.

"Groups? Why out of all people did you go on group patrol?" Ellie sighed heavily.

"My old man insisted." She looked incredibly embarrassed. Her cheeks were tinted red as her eyes refused to meet yours.

Your face softened noticing her discomfort, "That's actually really sweet." You muttered giving her a small smile before opening the exit door for her. She looked at you warily, expecting you to mock her about her overprotective father figure. Most teenagers would've.

You followed behind Ellie on your horse for about 10 minutes making light conversation until she pointed out an area to station your horses. You went off to take a look in the new building, your curiosity getting the better of you. Your dominant hand was hovering over your gun just in case you encountered any infected but overall the place seemed clear.

You jumped over another broken window that led to the outside, observing the back structure.

You came across a jagged but slim crack present at the bottom of the building that no human could possibly fit through. It looked so old and fragile, crumbling at the simple touch of your finger, "Hey Ellie! Did anybody know about this?" You were laid on the floor shining your flashlight through it as Ellie came jogging up beside you.

Ellie shook her head in confusion and crouched own, "Not that I know of." She squinted peering closer, "Holy shit, it looks like it leads underneath the building."

You hummed turning to her, “Yeah seems like it. The bricks look like they'll come loose if I kick them hard enough." Ellie nodded and stood back. You smashed your foot against the wall forcing all the bricks to collapse in unison creating the perfect entrance. You both smiled at each other as Ellie helped you off the ground and gave you a high five, "Alright, masks on. Better to be safe than sorry.”

Once your masks were fixed on, you and Ellie jumped down. Both your flashlights lit up the space that was now visibly swarming with spores. You and Ellie decided to split up to cover more ground and hopefully you'll find some useful supplies.

Spores were almost always a bad sign so you kept your wits about you, making sure you were checking every nook and cranny for possible infected.

As you entered a new room you came across a skeleton with a bottle of alcohol in its grip. Examining it further, it was pretty clear whoever this was took their own life.

A gun was not too far from its other hand alongside a note left on the dresser. You took the alcohol from its grip and shoved it in your bag. It felt wrong given the circumstances but in terms of survival you can’t be too picky.

Moving over to the note you brushed off the dust that’s been gathering for the past few decades and started reading it.

To whoever finds this,

Me and my wife Judy have been bitten. To protect our kids we locked ourselves in the basement. Judy has locked herself in the room next door. I pray she doesn't allow herself to turn but nevertheless I will not be another victim to the infection.

I've tried to reason with Judy but she says she's going to wait it out. How can she allow herself to turn? I really hope she survives this for her sake but even if she does I won't be alive to see it. I hope she comes to her senses. Soon.

You flipped the note over but that was it, "Locked herself in the room next door?” You mumbled staring down at the writers skeleton.

Your eyes widened as your stomach dropped, “Oh fuck-" As soon as you came to the realisation you heard a monstrous groan bellow throughout the building and a gun going off in the next room. You quickly dropped the note darting towards the commotion finding Ellie in a heated fight with a version of infected that you've only ever seen once.

A shambler.

It charged at Ellie throwing her to the ground with a nasty thud. You knew you had to stun the shambler somehow otherwise you'd have no chance of killing it. You swung off your backpack and picked out the alcohol. Your mother taught you how to make a molotov before she passed. This was brought on when a group of psychos thought they owned the city and killed anyone who passed through.

Must be a pretty common thing.

Anyways, clearly one of them liked to smoke because you found 3 lighters and plenty of roll ups on his corpse. The molotovs you made managed to thin out the group as your mother and brother took care of the remaining few.

You began ripping a piece of the shirt underneath your hoodie, putting your mothers teaching to good use. You lit the fabric preparing the molotov just in time. From the corner of your eye you could see the shambler getting ready to charge at Ellie again which forced your body into action. Using your dominant hand you threw the Molotov leaving it no time to react.

You pulled out your shotgun as it burned the mutated flesh causing it to screech out in agony. You fired the remaining shots trying your best to aim for the skull. It was difficult due to the frantic flailing of its arms but you were persistent, making every shot count.

Noticing its change in demeanor you dropped your shoulders and attempted to control your erratic breathing. The shambler fell to its knees bursting out in a vicious cloud of spores as you took a sigh of relief. You peered over at Ellie who was slumped, leaning against the wall clutching her abdomen in pain.

Your eyes did a double take as you saw most of the glass in her mask was missing. You suppressed a shiver as you caught on to her rapid short breaths. This can’t be happening. You stared in utter fear as Ellie continued to breathe in spores.

In the back of your head you knew there was nothing you could do to help her but that still didn’t stop you from trying. "Oh fuck, oh fuck!" You ran over to Ellie in a panic ripping off her mask and clasping your hand over her mouth and nose as best as you could.

"It’s going to be okay, just please stay calm for me." You urged fiddling with the clasp using your other spare hand, “You can have my mask and I’m going to hold my breath, okay? I’ve done it be-!” Your body was slammed against the floor as Ellie held your mask firmly to your face, groaning in pain.

"(Y/N), d-dont" She stammered trying to catch her breath. You easily pushed her off you as she leaned back in pain again, looking at you in desperation.

You sat there sadness clouding your features as you looked over at Ellie’s weakening state. "H-how?" Your eyes scanned all over her face.

For a second you froze, your face hardening, “You aren’t coughing?” You questioned bluntly. Ellie’s breathing began to slow as she averted her eyes away from yours, “How are you breathing in this shit?”

Ellie shifted uncomfortably, "I'm immune." She managed to get out.

Your mouth snapped shut as you reeled yourself back. Naturally, you felt a huge wave of relief but the feeling of possibly loosing someone else was still lingering.

"Your immune." You repeated standing up. "Well thank fuck for that I almost thought you were dead." You scoffed kicking her broken mask aside.

"(Y/N).." Ellie trailed off gazing up at you as you as you picked her up off the floor.

You looked away from her as you lightly let go of her fragile body and threw both your backpacks over your shoulder, "C’mon, Let's get you back home."

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Once you and Ellie arrived back in Jackson she was immediately taken in for medical treatment. Maria asked you what happened but you gave a very vague response and returned home. They offered you treatment but you always preferred to do it yourself, there were only a few minor cuts and bruises anyways.

Whilst treating your own wounds you began replaying in your head what happened. You regretted being rude to Ellie after finding out she was immune but you had no clue why you spoke to her like that to begin with.

Getting frustrated with yourself your movements became sloppy. You hissed in pain as you further irritated your cut and withdrew your hands from your stomach. You struggled to look at yourself in the mirror hating this version of yourself.

Fed up, you took a deep breath and grabbed the bandages left inside your bedside drawer. Once you were all patched up you decided to grab some food. Anything would do right now. You put on a thick jacket and stepped outside; the snow was a lot heavier now than before.

Walking along the streets of Jackson you noticed how quiet it was. You were never out at this time as you'd usually sleep the rest of the day since the morning patrols always sucked the life out of you. It was undeniably gorgeous. Your favourite part of Jackson has always been the fairy lights that framed the buildings. If you weren't so exhausted all the time you'd watch them every night along with the stars.

Once you had collected your food you headed back home. You could vaguely hear voices on the street ahead of you turning the street corner. You mentally kicked yourself for not recognising them sooner. Walking in the same direction before you was Ellie, Dina and Jesse. The last thing you wanted was to be interrogated by Dina and Jesse but this was the only route that led to your house. You could see the outline of their figures begin to stop in the middle of the path urging you to quickly hide yourself behind a conveniently placed tree.

"What do you need to apologise for?" Dina asked standing in front of Ellie with her arms crossed.

Jesse put his hand on Ellie's shoulder to stop her from walking, "There's no point doing it now, (Y/N)'s always asleep at this time."

Ellie nudged Jesse's hand off her shoulder and tried to barge past them until Dina held her back, "Ellie is there something you're not telling us?" Dina questioned glancing over at Jesse.

Ellie huffed and rolled her eyes, "There isn't! I just want to apologise for what happened." She explained looking back at them intensely.

Dina moved her hands to her hips, "You want to apologise because she put herself in danger to save you? That's the job! You protect each other!"

"What if she's mad at me?" Ellie quietly mumbled causing Dina and Jesse to look at one another.

Jesse put his arm around Ellie to comfort her which she just silently accepted, "Why would she be mad? (Y/N)'s saved my ass a bunch of times and we just laugh it off. You're thinking too much into this."

Ellie shrugged in response, "I guess."

"C'mon, you need to rest. You're not helping your condition standing out in the snow." Dina urged walking the opposite direction. The three of them turned around and began walking towards you. You breathed a sigh of relief as they passed and began walking again once they were out of sight. At least you knew Ellie had no hard feelings towards you. It's a shame you couldn't tell her it was mutual.

Once you got back home you ate your food and fell straight to sleep. You had a regular morning patrol with Jesse which started at 6:30am and you knew you’d need as much rest as you could get after today’s events.

After your well needed slumber it was finally time to set off on your patrol with Jesse. You two were riding your horses through the heavy snow until you came to a stop. You jumped off your horse and surveyed the area for any infected. Jesse came up beside you with his gun out, taking the lead.

"So (Y/N), care to elaborate on yesterday's antics?" You rolled your eyes at his question and walked past him.

"There's nothing to elaborate on, we were just jumped by infected. Ellie got hurt so I finished them off and we turned back." There was no way you were going to tell Jesse about Ellie's immunity. It was still a lot for you to digest and besides there's no way he'd believe you.

Jesse shrugged and stopped in his tracks, "Hey, if that's all that happened then I believe you. I only asked because Ellie was acting weird about the whole thing."

"It's fine. It was a rough day for both of us." You reassured him looking back with a small smile.

After looking around and finding no infected you both headed back to your horses. After 5 more hours of patrol, you both finally headed back to Jackson.

As the gates opened you were met with Dina and Ellie who must’ve gotten back just before you. Your two horses were passed off to the stable hands as Jesse strolled his way over to them with you following closely behind. "How'd it go ladies?" Jesse beamed causing them to cut their conversation short and look over in your direction.

Ellie looked down at her shoes once she saw your figure approaching behind Jesse's. "Hi guys." You smiled warmly at them nodding your head in the process.

"Hey you two, we were actually waiting for you to get back." Dina grinned, "I'm sure you've heard of the dance happening this weekend?" You glanced over at Jesse furrowing your eyebrows slightly.

Jesse laughed nudging you, "Well I was going to drag (Y/N) along with me."

“Any excuse to throw me around it seems, what a gentleman.” You joked earning a giggle from both Ellie and Dina. You four were walking through the town but you couldn’t shake the feeling of Ellie’s eyes on you. You didn’t have the confidence to face her which was an unusual new feeling for you.

Once you all made it to the bar Dina turned around to face you, "All jokes aside I think it'll be really fun. Everyone deserves time to chill out and have a few drinks."

You gave off a laugh and began fiddling with your fingers in embarrassment, “I can’t say I like the idea of voluntarily making a fool out of myself but- " The corner of you mouth quirked up breaking out into a wide grin, “- Ah, what the heck you’ve twisted my arm, I’ll be there.”

You were kind of regretting that now standing in the middle of your room feeling completely out of your depth. Saying you were nervous was an understatement. Call it the fear of the unknown but you weren't sure what to expect.

You were born after the outbreak and your family were constantly on the move. Having Jackson to settle down in was a blessing but because of past events you still felt uneasy. Picking an outfit to go to a dance was alien to you and acting as if everything was fine was hard.

It was the day of the dance and you were looking at your collection of clothes in disgust. You were hopelessly scanning the clothes in your closet expecting one item to catch your eye. Shaking off the heavy feeling in your stomach you changed into a pair of blue jeans and a low-cut shirt. You glanced over at the clock and realised Jesse should be at your door any minute now.

You sat on your bed for five minutes until you eventually heard him knocking, "Hey (Y/N)! You ready?" You slowly got up off your bed and took a deep breath. You walked over to the door opening it and staring back at you was Jesse. He looked you up and down with the biggest smile, "Let's get this party started, shall we?"

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Soooo you may have already read this if you’ve went down the ellie wormhole (im very guilty of this) as I have actually posted this on wattpad! I’m currently revamping this whole story and referring it to tumblr but I’m still leaving it on there as of now. 

I’m going to be forming the parts together to create bigger chapters and overall edit this into a better story.

I hope this clears things up & thanks for reading <3

[girl-next-door-writes]

You Don't Have To Convince Me

Characters: Mycroft Holmes x reader

Summary: Mycroft’s second year of university is quite eventful, and there is nobody else he would rather have spent it with.

Word Count: 2912 words

Prompt: Fluff. Best friends. Roommates. Blurted out confession. Falling asleep on them.

A/N: @royalydamned and @savvy-devine666 both had similar requests, so I merged them to create this bit of fluff, and it made my heart very happy. This on kinda got away from me if I’m being totally honest and ended up being three times longer than anticipated, so please reblog if you like it.

Placing the last of his boxes onto his bed, Mycroft straightened up and surveyed his new room for the year. This would do nicely. Definitely better than the cramped first year building which was situated outside the college walls. This room was much more what he had thought of when he had first applied to Oxford. The beautiful ornate stonework of the leaden windows which looked out onto the courtyard would provide the perfect light for studying. The simply exquisite fireplace with its original blue tiles could hold a multitude of books on its mantle. He smiled to himself as he spotted the door to his very own ensuite, no more shared bathroom!

The soft knock on his doorframe had him turning his head, his smile only growing when he saw who it was had interrupted him.

“I wasn’t even the highest up on the ballot this year, can you imagine what sort of rooms those guys got?” You asked with a bright smile as you folded your arms across your chest and leaned against the doorframe.

“Well, they most likely are not finding they have to share a vestibule with their neighbour.”

“Oh, yes, because sharing this small space right here, with me, that would make your stunning view almost unbearable.”

“It does take the shine off it somewhat, but I will soldier on.”

“I bet you will. Just letting you know, I’m putting my umbrella stand out here. Feel free to use it.”

“I will, thank you.”

“Right, well, I’m going to unpack a little before dinner. I can’t believe they made the first dinner back a formal one! I’m not even sure which box I’ve shoved my robes in.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched you go, a warmth in his chest that he couldn’t quite explain. He had missed you over the summer, and to find you were now practically roommates gave him high hopes for this year, such a contrast to his last.

The unlikely friendship between the two of you had come about because you had decided it would. His first term at Oxford had been truly miserable; the accommodation was basic, the food even more so, having to share his space with strangers, many of whom had no concept of cleanliness or hygiene, his courses were elementary, although many of his peers appeared to struggle to keep up. Mycroft had found himself as lonely and bored as he had at school, leading him to spend his time alone, something which you had noticed around late October.

He had been sitting in the cloisters, sheltered from the wind as he read, reluctant to return to the halls of residence and the chaos that would bring. You had sat down beside him, not even asked, just sat there. Curiosity eventually got the better of him, and he had looked up only to find you smiling sweetly. You had introduced yourself to him and immediately began talking about the architecture that surrounded you both. The information was rudimentary, obviously what you had picked up from your campus tour, but he found himself hanging on your every word. From that moment on, you seemed to appear by his side, and after a few weeks, Mycroft had found himself seeking you out too. A strange sort of friendship, but it worked. You were his best friend. His best friend who, he had realised over the summer, he was hopelessly in love with.

Spending time with you was so easy. Although you would often offer him an excuse to be in his presence, he had never really needed one. You didn’t have to sell him on spending his time with you. In fact, that was probably one of the only things he never needed convincing of. Just sitting quietly with you as you both read, or as he read and you talked about anything that came to your mind, that was more than enough for Mycroft. He cherished it, and so he knew he would never risk losing you by expressing his growing desire to be more than your best friend.

“MYCROFT! THERE’S A SPIDER!” Your shriek had him shaking his head fondly as he made his way to your room, prepared to save you from the errant arachnid.

Bundled up against the chilly April wind, the two of you wandered through the grounds. The idea had been to get some fresh air. This was an idea that both of you were now regretting as the sky above grew grey, filling with foreboding clouds. So much for the joys of Spring. The thought that it was more likely to snow at this time of year than December entered his mind, but he decided to keep that to himself. Despite the poor weather, he had you all to himself out here and he wanted to hold onto that a little longer.

As you made your way along Addison’s Walk, Mycroft felt the silence between you was rather loaded. That had been happening more often, what had once been a pleasant, peaceful quiet had now become thick with all the things he tried not to let escape him. In an attempt to diffuse the situation, he endeavored to make small talk.  

“C.S. Lewis wrote Chanson d’Aventure about this walk.” He said stiffly as he shoved his hands deeper into his pockets in a bid to negate the urge to reach for your hand.

“That knowledge would indeed be more impressive if I didn’t also know about the plaque by the Holywell Ford gate that tells you that. Although you probably have known that fact since you were three.” You teased with a soft smile, glancing up at him as his cheeks flushed slightly.

“Okay, well…” He stopped and looked out over the meadow, eyes searching. “…ah, there. You see those purple flowers over there?”

“The ones that look like drooped tulips?” You asked, moving to his side and following his gaze. For a moment, Mycroft could neither deny nor confirm your question as you had now successfully invaded his personal space, and his brain seemed to lose half its IQ points.

“Erm, yeah. Yeah.” He nodded, no longer looking out at the flowers.

“What about them?” You asked, always interested in whatever fact your friend wanted to impart.

“Oh, erm, they are called Fritillaria meleagris, or snakes head. They are incredibly rare, and they have been growing here in this meadow for over 200 years. If you get up close then you can see they have this beautiful pattern, like the scales of a snake.”

“Hence the name.”

“Yes, rather.” He smiled. You never told him to stop showing off, or that he was boring. You rather seemed to enjoy his breadth of knowledge, even if most would deem it useless.

“Probably best not to pick a whole bunch then.”

“I suspect that might get you into trouble.”

“Well, if I am going to get into trouble, I would want it to be for something much more fun than picking flowers. I mean, they are pretty, but they aren’t my favourites.”

“I am aware.” Mycroft hummed, having committed any and all facts about you to memory.

“I have no idea how you fit it all into that brilliant mind of yours. I swear, when we are old and grey and in a nursing home, you will still be able to tell me what I was wearing the first day we met.” You chuckled, looping your arm through his as you began to walk back towards Buckingham Court.

“Would you not think that strange? Creepy, even? If out of the blue, I told you something like that?” Curiosity and nerves tinged the edge of his voice as the two of you fell into step. He was used to people being repulsed by his manner, his mind, him in general. Yet, here you were, not trying to change him or fix him in any way, just happy with who he was. Still, he couldn’t quiet the noises in his head, the voices of the past telling him he was weird, peculiar, not right.

“I think it’s rather impressive. I mean, to be honest, you could tell me I was wearing almost anything, and I’d probably agree because I have no clue what I was wearing on the day we met. I think you could tell me a different thing each time.” Your laughter hung in the air like a beautiful melody that he longed to cling to.

“Blue denim jeans which were too baggy for you, rolled up at the cuffs, an oversized grey knitted jumper with pink lines across the bottom that hung off your shoulder and showed the white t-shirt you had on underneath, and white trainers with scuffmarks on the toes from where you kick them off. Your hair was in your face, and you had a blue bic biro in your mouth.” The memory was engrained in his mind, the way you had smiled around that pen before removing it from your lips and launching into talking as if you had simply been paused mid conversation.

“See. That sounds like something I would wear but I can’t say for sure you’re right. I’ve just got to trust you, Mycroft Holmes.” You shrugged, totally non-plussed by his revelation, an action that made his heart race. You saw who he really was and didn’t run away screaming, how could he ever find the words to tell you how much you meant to him?

“I still can’t believe you got tickets for this! They are like gold dust.” You grinned at him as you took your seat on the blanket.

“Well, we do get first dibs, I believe that is the term.” Mycroft smiled as he sat beside you, leaving a respectable distance between the two of you, a distance you wasted no time in irradicating.

“I know, but the Magdalen film night is one of the social events of the year! I wanted to come last year but tickets were all gone so fast.”

“And that’s why I ensured we got some this year.” He didn’t feel the need to tell you that he had practically bribed everyone who had any influence to make certain you could join the other students on the lawn and watch a film on a large makeshift screen.

The film wasn’t one Mycroft had any deep desire to watch, but sitting with you, on a blanket on the lawn, as the last warm rays of the summer sun set and gave way to a stelliferous sky, that was something he could tolerate a below par film for. Anything to make you happy. Mycroft had realised that he was much better at compromise, but only when it came to you.

He had to admit, the organization of the event was excellent, and he was glad that he had brought enough cushions to ensure you were comfortable. At some point, he had lost the thread of the film, too distracted by the weight of your body pressed against his as you leaned on him. Your head rested against his shoulder so perfectly it was as if it was molded to be right there and he slowly gave in to the desire to rest his cheek on the top of your head, his eyes fluttering closed as he held his breath.

The evening began to cool, and he found you snuggling into him a little more, seeking out his heat to fight the goosebumps erupting on your bare skin. Shifting slightly, he picked up his discarded jacket and draped it over your shoulders, his fingers lingering on your upper arm before returning to the blanket as a joist to prop you both up. Despite being surrounded by people, this felt incredibly intimate, even more so when you let out a soft, sleepy sigh and laid your head more against his chest.

The film eventually came to an end, but the mixture of fresh air and long days studying had resulted in you dozing off at some point, your arm resting around his waist and nose pressed to his chest. Mycroft was at an absolute loss for what to do, uncertain of the etiquette in such circumstances. He was aware of people noticing his predicament, met with knowing smirks as he fought the urge to tell them that this wasn’t what they thought, desperate to protect your reputation.

Deciding that the only course of action was to wake you, he gently brushed the hair back from your face and leaned down to speak softly.

“Darling, the film has finished.” He tried, but there was no response from you at all. “You really would be much better sleeping in a bed, my dear. I cannot imagine that I am that comfortable.”

“hmmmm.” You sighed softly, nuzzling into him as you stretched a little.

“I would have offered to carry you, but sadly I am unable to carry both you and all the cushions and blanket. A failing, I know, but sadly I am sorely lacking in these situations.”

“You need a hand, mate?” One of the rowing club had wandered over and Mycroft immediately felt even more inadequate. “Your other half seems to be deep in a REM cycle. How about you carry them, and I’ll grab the blanket and stuff?”

“Thank you.” Mycroft managed a tight smile, he did not wish to correct the boys mistake for two reasons, the first was that it sent a heat through him hearing someone else refer to the two of you as a couple, and the second was the concern that if he admitted you were not his, then perhaps this attractive young man would take you from his arms.

As he walked towards your halls, he felt you nuzzle into him, your warm breath fanning across his skin, and just for a second he could have sworn your lips brushed across his neck, an act that almost caused him to drop you. Surely it had been a sleepy accident, not intended. There was no way you could see him as more than a friend. Right?

“I don’t see why we have to move rooms every year. It seems like unnecessary upheaval if you ask me.” You huffed as you sat down heavily on his bed, surveying the many boxes that were stacked around his room.

“Perhaps your new room will be even better than your current one.” Mycroft reasoned, leaning against his desk.

“Not possible. My room this year is perfect. I don’t want to move to Mallory Court. Why can’t we stay right here?” You pouted, your brow furrowing in a way Mycroft couldn’t help but think was adorable. “I mean, I’ve got to lug all my stuff into storage and then all the way to Mallory! At least you get to stay here in Buckingham.”

“I still have to move my things into storage and then back out. One might argue that my moving things is more pointless than you moving things.” He tried to make the situation light even though the thought of residing so far from you twisted his stomach. You had been so close all year and now…

“You’ll come visit me, right?”

“You do realise you are not moving to another city, just another courtyard. It is a five-minute walk at most.” He chuckled.

“Yeah! A whole five minutes!” You said dramatically. “What if I need you?”

“Well, if you need me, then I will be right there. You’ll just have to give me five minutes.”

“Are you sure you need your own room? Can I not convince you to come live in my wardrobe?”

“Darling, as much as the idea of living in a wardrobe is intriguing, we both know just how much you cram into your wardrobe. I fear there is simply not room for me in there as well.”

“You will miss me though, right?” You looked up at him and his knees felt weak as he gripped the edge of the desk. “You won’t go spending all your time with your new neighbours?”

“I will not miss you, because we will still see each other all the time. I promise.” He said softly as you got up and made your way over to him. Your arms wrapped around his middle, and you placed your head on his chest, hugging him in a way that felt familiar and new all at once, despite the increased frequency of such interactions between you.

“God, I love you.” He murmured into your hair. It wasn’t until he felt you stiffen that he realised his inner monologue had escaped his lips. His eyes widened and he looked down to find you looking at him curiously.

“I- Just to clarify, for my own clarification really, were you saying that to God? Because I didn’t think you were a deeply religious person. OR was that about me? And IF it was about me, was it like ‘I love you, like a sister’ or… or was it more like ‘I love you so much that the thought of being parted makes it hard to breathe’?”

His mouth opened and closed a few times, his vast vocabulary failing him at such a crucial juncture. You must have seen something in his eyes though, because you took a deep, determined breath.

“Because, if I am being honest, at the risk of completely fucking this up and you leaving for the summer and never wanting to see me again, I am really hoping it’s the latter, because I think that I have actually been very much in love with you since first year.”

“Really?” he spluttered, not quite believing this was real.

“Shit. I’ve really fucked this up haven’t I? Sorry. Pretend I didn’t just say all that and we can go pack up our rooms and have-“ Your rant was interrupted by Mycroft’s lips pressing against yours.

As far as first kisses go, it wasn’t perfect. Although he was technically aware of how these things were done, his inexperience was very evident, but that didn’t matter in that moment as he felt you melt into him. When you did finally pull back to catch your breath, you both had goofy smiles on your lips.

“It was most certainly the ‘I love you so much I cannot imagine my life without you in it,’ kind of I love you. The ‘I am not sure how much studying I am going to be able to get done next year because all I want to do is kiss you,’ kind of I love you. Just for clarification.” He smirked, earning a light smack to his chest as you chuckled.

“This moment, this one right now, it’s one you will absolutely tell me about in that nursing home. You’d better be adding it to the list.”

“Oh, trust me, my dear, it is forever committed to my memory.” He hummed as you nuzzled his nose before leaning in for another of many kisses.

[whinlatter]

Also how do you think ginny and Harry's marital life was? Did they get married early?Did Ginny sometimes resent her husband's profession? As a couple do you think they fought often?

Thanks so much for always replying to all the asks so wonderfully! You're so amazing!!!

I think Harry and Ginny's marital life was happy, of course! I think their marriage was a singular source of stability and renewing joy throughout their adult lives. (can you imagine if I was like... nah, it was garbage, divorce)

Without further ado... here's too many words and thoughts on Harry and Ginny's married life and careers, and some fic recs that have helped shape how I think about it dotted throughout. Come for the twee house descriptions, stay for the rant about neoliberal feminism at the end I guess!

On married life and the Potter household:

I love the idea of the Potters presiding over this ramshackle chaos household in big house near the sea, with a great big garden and treehouse for their kids and the cousins and various pets to maraud about all over the place. I actually think quite a lot about the house they'd be in. I love the idea of them building it from scratch, a big house with modern comforts but rustic, cosy, English country features, more horizontal than vertical (kind of farm/barn conversion vibes). In my mind, their house has lots of light, lots of beams and soft wood furnishings, and then a few quirky features and colours that are all Ginny's idea (Luna paints beautiful murals on each of the kids' walls). I imagine their house has lots of big windows with window seats so the adults can sit out and watch the kids play outside. I think the kitchen/dining room would be the heart of the house. Harry's doing the cooking, Ginny's writing at the table, kids are streaming in and out, it's just a real thoroughfare of teenagers and family friends and grandparents streaming through with the wireless on.

On marrying and having kids young:

I do really think Harry and Ginny got married early and had kids young. As I get older I only get more ok with that as a timescale for them. I think the intensity of their wartime experiences, their very involved role as godparents to Teddy (especially thinking maybe it might be nice for Teddy to have younger god-siblings), and their family reference points (both being from families where marrying young is quite normal, and where babies and toddlers are increasingly around a lot) are all factors that lend themselves to these two locking in in their early twenties. The pieces I love most on their marriage/babies etc are all ones that have a lot of humour and spontaneity and walk this gorgeous line between flippancy and total certainty - acesofdiamond's version of their wedding in Arran, Scotland, is canon to me, and also quickfire by flagpoles, on them having a shotgun wedding, is just so so so good and so them.

On Harry's career:

I think Ginny would understand why Harry chose the career he did, but I think it would be a source of tension for them. I'm thinking a lot about this at the minute for some writing (👀), but I think Harry as an adult would have to confront the fact that he intends to keep choosing to get back in the arena and fight Dark magic, this thing he does it to keep the people he loves safe but that also asks so much of the same loved ones who have to watch him do it. I think Ginny would try to push him to see that, but I don't think those would be easy conversations, and I do think it would be one of the things they argue most about on the occasions when they do, properly, fight. On the day to day, things they bicker over include: whose fault it is that the house is a mess (obviously it's both of them, plus the three messy children those two messy kids created); whose fault it is that the Potters are literally always late to everything (Harry blames Ginny, Ginny says the only reason he was ever on time before was because of Hermione, and he chose not to marry the punctual one so he just has to lump it); and Ginny losing her wand around the house/not keeping her wand on her (it takes Harry a long time to say it, but he's always just thinking of James on the sofa the night he died).

On Ginny's career:

I know this is a bit controversial, but I'm honestly happy with the idea of Ginny quitting playing professional Quidditch young. I think she quits after she has James, or maybe between Albus and Lily, so by the time she's about twenty four, twenty five. This is a bit of a soapbox one for me, and maybe one day I'll write about it in some form, but I think there's quite a lot to be said for freeing yourself from being accountable to career decisions and dreams you once had for yourself when you were seventeen, especially career plans that served as escape hatches from traumatic teen years (for the same reason, I like the idea of Ron quitting the Aurors after a few years). I think, as teenagers, we imagine futures for versions of ourselves we haven't met yet. Renegotiating your hopes and aspirations for yourself can be a real sign of growth; holding yourself hostage to who you thought you'd be can make you very miserable.

Relatedly, I do think Ginny in her mid-twenties might have a different relationship to her playing Quidditch than she has a teen. I think lot of her wanting to play professionally is about her having something to prove (I have also totally adopted the headcanon from this fantastic piece on Ginny wanting to be outdoors and in the air as a rejection of the chamber). It feels right to me that Ginny might reconsider her attitude to physical risk and injury by her mid-twenties, particularly if her children are watching her play an extremely dangerous sport week-in week out. I also think she might reconsider how much time she wants to spend away from her family. I wonder if Ginny would also develop a different relationship to the sport outside of a school context, especially the press scrutiny and the big business of sport on the outside. We know that when she quits playing, it's not the end of her professional life, and I think her writing about the sport, and being a voice in the culture of the sport but also in the Wizarding World at large, makes a ton of sense for her. But I think it's good to change jobs because what you want for yourself changes, and I really think it's not a feminist failing to want to spend time with your family and to look for jobs that are interesting and help give your life meaning but that also let you have a family life. It's boardroom girlboss neoliberal nonsense feminism that says wanting to spend time with your friends and family is less of a route to happiness than climbing up some horrendous hyper-individualist career ladder in pursuit of success (especially, in Ginny's case, in professional sport, where careers only ever end on a downturn).

Thank you anon for wanting to hear me bang on about all of this!

Fics mentioned here include:

dancing on to your heartbeat by aceofdiamonds - H/G wedding fic

quick-fire by flagpoles - H/G proposal and pregnancy fic

Little Sugar Men by dopeythedwarf - H/G, on Ginny and flying

[laidee-flegman]

Shadow work prompts delving into spirituality

The Ghosts of My Past: What's that one childhood memory that still haunts your dreams? Let it all out, no judgment here.

My Inner Drama Queen: When was the last time you had a full-on, Oscar-worthy meltdown? What triggered it, and what can you learn from it?

The Dark Side of Social Media: How does scrolling through Instagram make you feel? Any jealousy, FOMO, or comparisonitis lurking in the shadows?

My Spirit Animal of Chaos: If your shadow had a spirit animal, what would it be, and why? Is it a mischievous monkey or a mysterious black cat?

Ex-Lovers and Life Lessons: Reflect on your past relationships. What patterns do you notice? What lessons have those heartbreaks taught you?

Fear of Success: Are you secretly terrified of achieving your dreams? Why? What's the worst thing that could happen if you actually slay those goals?

The Procrastination Station: What tasks are you avoiding, and why? Is there a deeper reason behind your Netflix binge or sudden obsession with organizing your sock drawer?

Moonlit Confessions: Write a letter to the moon confessing your deepest fears and desires. It's like texting your BFF, but way more cosmic.

The Guru Within: What advice would your older, wiser self give you right now? Channel your inner guru and spill the cosmic tea.

Graveyard of Broken Dreams: List three dreams or goals you've buried. Why did you let them go, and do they still haunt you?

The Energy Vampire Inventory: Identify people or situations that drain your energy. How can you set boundaries to protect your vibe?

Mirror, Mirror: Describe yourself in three words. Now ask a friend to do the same. Compare and contrast. Any surprises?

Dear Insecurity: Write a letter to your insecurities. What would you say to shut them down and kick them out of your head?

The Rebel Spirit: Recall a time when you rebelled against societal norms. How did it feel, and what did you learn from stepping outside the box?

Dance with the Devil (Within): If you had a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other, what advice would they be giving you right now?

The Inner Mean Girl: What's that nasty voice in your head saying? Shut it down with some self-love and positive affirmations.

The Crystal Ball of Intuition: Tune into your intuition. What gut feelings have you been ignoring, and how can you start trusting them more?

Haunted Habits: Identify a habit you want to break. What triggers it, and how can you replace it with something more positive?

Tarot Card Confessions: Pick a tarot card that resonates with you right now. What does it reveal about your current journey?

Apology Accepted: Is there someone you need to forgive, even if it's yourself? Write a forgiveness letter and release that heavy energy.

The Witches' Brew of Emotions: Mix up a potion of your emotions. What's bubbling in there, and how can you find balance in the cauldron of feelings?

The Superhero Origin Story: If you were a superhero, what would your origin story be? How have your past struggles shaped the badass hero you are today?

The Zen Zone: Create a peaceful space in your mind. What does it look like, and how can you access it when life gets chaotic?

The Cosmic Playlist: If your shadow had a soundtrack, what songs would be on it? Get those vibes flowing and journal about the lyrics that resonate.

Reincarnation Revelations: Imagine your past life. What era were you in, and what lessons did you bring into this lifetime?

Celestial Goals: What are your spiritual goals, and how can you align your actions with your cosmic mission?

The Mythical Creature Within: If you were a mythical creature, what would you be? How does that creature reflect aspects of your personality?

Soulmates and Kindred Spirits: Reflect on the people in your life. Who feels like a soulmate or kindred spirit? What lessons have they brought into your journey?

The Magic Mirror: If a magic mirror could reveal one truth about yourself, what would you want it to show? What truths are you avoiding?

Burning Desires: If you could manifest one thing in your life right now, what would it be? What's holding you back, and how can you overcome those barriers?

[noxexistant]

ai-less whumptober; day one

@ailesswhumptober 1 — public torture, stress position, “If you cry, we’ll go easy on you.” ↳ the refuge, circa 1894 word count; 1.4k

cw; abuse, light torture, violence

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It was worth it, Oscar decides. He'd known, of course, right from the moment he'd let himself throw that first punch, that he would be in the shit for it — but it was worth it. If only just to feel his knuckles meet Kelly's face a precious few times, blood spilling, before the guards were marching into the bunk room at the sound of a fight. One grabs him from behind, yanking him by a handful of his hair to draw him from the throng, before wrenching him up by the arms so hard he feels the joints grind, forced backwards by calloused hands. He kicks backwards helplessly as the ground draws away from him, bare feet left without purchase, all his meager bodyweight — not near enough for his sixteen years — left dangling from his shoulders. It hurts, more than his throbbing nose or aching cheek do, and there's no satisfaction to this kind of hurt. No mutuality, none of his own simmering rage satiated into violence like there is when he's beating Kelly into the floor.

Jack's shouting and protesting as he's wrestled into submission too, all the audience of boys clamouring and jeering, and Oscar joins the cacophany to let out a feral noise like a growl. He wasn't done, the fight wasn't over, and what little satisfaction it had brought is already fizzling again. But it was worth it, he tells himself again. Worth it to get those hits in, when Kelly had been asking for it like that—

"That's enough!" Snyder hollers.

Fuck. It wasn't worth it.

He didn't think Snyder would come, not just for some stupid scrap, but here he is. Tall and as immaculate as ever in the chaos, jaw drawn tight as he walks slowly through the overcrowded room with his hands folded at the base of his spine, gaze sharp and ice cold. All of the other boys have scurried away in an instant, the crowd watching the fight dispersed. Instead, they're all standing beside their bunks, heads down, like the cowards they are. The circle that had surrounded the fight has morphed to surround the whole room instead, dozens of eyes all staring at Snyder and Oscar and Jack and the guards, awaiting what will happen next.

It's sort of like being a circus performer, Oscar imagines. Snyder's the ringleader, his crisp three-piece suit his costume, the thin cane in one hand across his back his whip.

Oscar certainly feels like a caged animal. One that's about to be beaten into a performance.

He raises his chin defiantly, fighting in his current position to look beside him and take stock of where Kelly's at — but his stomach drops when he sees Morris first, held brutally by a guard the same way Oscar is, arms pinned behind him.

"Hey," Oscar protests immediately, unhesitatingly. "No. Mo ain't do nothin'. Let him go."

Snyder's eyes snap to him immediately, something edging on amusement lifting a brow.

"I trust he was retrieved from the fight just as you were, Mister Delancey," Snyder says, voice that godforsaken leisurely drawl it always is. So in control. So above it. "It certainly wouldn't surprise me. Yourself and your little brother always seem to walk hand-in-hand into trouble."

Oscar bares his teeth. "So he was jus' lookin' out for me. He weren't in the fight. He's a kid."

Snyder hums. He glances over his shoulder, lets his gaze catch on the youngest boy of the three for more than long enough to make Morris squirm, and finally turns to face him properly.

"Did you throw a punch?" he asks sharply, suddenly. Morris flinches, gaze set on the dirty floor below his dangling bare feet.

"No, sir."

Snyder stares at him, gaze hard, enjoying the opportunity to have Morris pinned like a bug. And Oscar knows the asshole could turn and ask a witness — it's a strategy he usually loves to employ, turning all the boys against each other, creating at atmosphere of distrust and lack of safety. But today he doesn't. He jerks his head sharply at the far wall.

"Go," he orders, and Morris obeys without hesitation, because what else is there to do? The guard lets him go and he walks, gait clumsy as it's always been since his knee got fucked up, and meets the wall Snyder had gestured to. Oscar's stomach churns as he watches his brother just…wait for further instruction. It's all too familiar, all too much like how Da had treated him. Treated them both.

"Kneel," Snyder says. "Balls of your feet under you. You know how."

Morris does. He kneels. Oscar immediately sees the tension run through him as his knees hit the dirty floor, and Oscar knows what it's like. The brutal, sharp dust and debris all over the uneven wood. It's torture to stand on, let alone to kneel on, but Morris doesn't make a sound. Even as he pulls his feet under him as instructed, sits up on his bent toes and the balls of his feet to put yet more pressure on his knees.

Snyder smiles.

"Good boy," he says warmly, and his gaze turns again. It finds Jack first, and he meets it with all the hatred in the world in his face. Lip curled back, eyes dark with it.

"You're torturin' him," he spits. Snyder's smile falls like a penny dropping, expression effortlessly and immediately shifting back to cold distast.

"You've made it clear countless times you take issue with my discipline, Mister Sullivan," Snyder says calmly. "Not that you have any input, criminal within my own institution as you are. But you needn't worry. I'll employ a different method with yourself and your foe Oscar here. One the two of you have always responded to better."

The first hit cracks across Jack's face hard enough to make the whole room flinch. The watching boys grimace or avert their gazes, and amongst them Oscar feels a ripple of opposing feelings. Amusement, grief. Gratitude it isn't them at the end of Snyder's ire. Not this time, at least.

Jack inhales shakily. His cheek is immediately swelling, dark skin flushing a brutal red where the hit had landed. It'll be a vicious bruise.

"I ain't afraid of you," he breathes.

"What a pity," Snyder responds. "We'll see if we can't fix that yet."

He draws his cane finally from behind him, and lays it across his other palm — the palm which had just collided with Kelly's face — as he walks, slowly, to Oscar. Leans in so close that Oscar can smell the cologne on his neck, the expensive tobacco on his breath.

"Are you afraid of me, Oscar?" he asks slowly, voice low and quiet. There's something unsettlingly intimate about it, something that has Oscar's skin crawling. "If you tell me you are. If you cry. Perhaps I might be compelled to be kinder to you, regarding your punishments. Like I am to your brother."

Oscar looks over at Morris, helplessly led by the prompt. His gaze lands on the bony little figure of his wee brother, kneeling with his back to the rest of the room. His shoulders shaking in a torn shirt that isn't even his, was pried from the back of an older, bigger boy who hadn't been here months or even years by the time Oscar and his brother arrived. He's helpless to wonder if that boy had even made it out alive, but he'll never know. Nobody ever will.

"Fuck you," Oscar breathes.

He knows the first hit is coming as a result of it, knows it'll be as hard if not harder than Kelly's. But somehow it still catches him off-guard, the way a sudden, brutal hit always does. Always will, despite every effort of his father. An order is given above him, and the guard that has been holding him all this time lets him go in an instant too — and Oscar's on the floor. His shoulders light up with the agony of their first movement, and he finds he can't pick himself up.

The next hit comes swiftly. And the next, and the next. He can feel all of the eyes on him — can feel Kelly's eyes on him. At some point, he's sure he can hear Morris start to cry, start to shout and plead, not for himself, but for Oscar.

It's Hell, familiar and bright white with pain. But he takes it.

And promises himself that, someday, he'll be the one in charge. The one to be afraid of. The one above it all. And he won't give people the option for him to be kinder.

[rose-tea-and-strawberries]

One thing I like to think about is how Twisted Wonderland could incorporate elements from Disney’s 2d movies into their lore.

For example:

During a potions class, when Professor Crewel leaves the room, Ace starts mucking about and accidently adds a plant that’s basically used in Twisted Wonderland’s alcohol. This causes pink bubbles to form from the cauldron and transform into the pink elephants on parade that begin to create chaos and now the entire class have to figure out how to get rid of them.

Ace, Deuce and Yuu are with their fellow classmates on a camping trip and they’re all telling ghost stories around a campfire and two or three of their classmates bring up heffalumps and woozles much to Yuu and Grim’s confusion. Ace scoffs, saying that they’re not real and just a scary story people tell to scare kids (kind of like the boogeyman of Twisted Wonderland). When Fem!Yuu asks what those are her classmates answer her (maybe they start singing/chanting a slower version of the original song) by explaining that they ‘guzzle up the thing you prize’, making them up to be these monsters the same way Pooh, Tigger and Rabbit were teaching Roo in Pooh’s Heffalump Movie. Ace looks unimpressed but Deuce, Fem!Yuu and Grim (especially since the last two don’t know anything about this world) look scared. At some point in the night, food starts to go missing and then the class end up split up in the woods and everyone sees shadows of these heffalumps and woozles the same way Snow White saw monsters after she ran from the huntsman. When they can’t find Yuu Ace, Deuce and Grim believe that she’s been eaten by those creatures and they create a plan of attack to get revenge on those monsters for eating Grim’s tuna *Ace and Deuce turn to look at Grim* he means eating his henchman. Long story short, heffalumps and woozles don’t exist, their food was eaten by woodland creatures and everything was in their minds and now Crewel has to babysit a bunch of scared teenagers *sigh* great.

I also realise that the Headless Horseman song would be a cool campfire song for teenagers to sing to spook each other.

Since RSA is a hero school, I thought it would be cool if they have a pixie dust reserve as a gift from the fairies and Yuu gets told how to use it when she’s on a quest to save her friends (you bet her ‘wonderful thought’ would be with Grim and Adeuce) and her and the RSA boys do the whole she (we) can fly number. Also, imagine if at one point the gang end up trying to sail the Jolly Rodger.

The song Cruella De Vil, has been changed to Divus Crewel/Professor Crewel by the NRC students and the older years sing it to the first years as a sort of warning to how strict and ruthless their potions teacher is (and as a way to have a laugh because they find scaring children fun)

There’s a secret storage cupboard in Heartslabyul that houses the eat me cookies and drink me bottles. Only the Dorm Leaders and Vice Dorm Leaders know of this.

If anyone has any other ideas, I would love to hear them