#i feel like drawing this would help ease some anxiety for me

[ak319]

Dark A.M x fem!reader

-- ★ The Word of Claim ┃ ─𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑─

Warnings/MDNI: forced marriage, manhandling, drinking, violence, abuse // I don't condone/romanticize such behaviour irl! +++ Jus' a reminder that Arthur is 27 (yeh, not 30's) in this and reader is 22. ✰ 8.3K

★ Prev I concept m.list

The maid, busy fussing with your hair, cast a wary glance at Doreen, who stood silently to the side. Her expression seemed to plead, "Help me out here," prompting the older woman to step forward and place a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

"(Y/N)... relax. You're going to claw that necklace off before the wedding," Doreen said, her gentle jab snapping you out of your spiraling thoughts.

You blinked, shaking off the anxiety that had gripped you. "Yeah, sorry. First time getting married, so..."

The two women chuckled with you, their laughter lightening the mood. Together, they helped you descend the grand staircase to the drawing room, where your parents waited. The wedding itself was to take place in the backyard, a picturesque setting that had been painstakingly prepared for the occasion.

As you entered, you were immediately enveloped in tearful hugs from both your mother and father, happy tears that warmed your heart despite your nerves.

Once the initial greetings were exchanged, you found yourself seated in a secluded room alongside your parents and brother. The air was filled with polite conversation and gentle pleasantries as you all waited for Omar's family to arrive.

"Shouldn't his brothers be here by now? They said they would come early," your mother asked, her tone tinged with mild concern.

Your father hummed thoughtfully before responding, "Love, you know how rocky the roads are. Considering they’re probably coming in a carriage, it might take time. I think they’re all coming together now, with Omar, so, when they do, I’ll take them straight to the yard. (Y/N), you stay here until I come to get you back, alright?"

"Okay, okay, I know. You’ve already told me the steps a million times," you replied with a small grin.

He chuckled and pulled you into a warm embrace. "You look pretty calm. I’m so proud of you."

You melted against him with a laugh. "I’m trembling inside, Dad."

"I’m sure you are. But that’s natural. No worries, alright?" Just then Suki jumped into you lap and you immediately hugged her.

"Did you pack Suki’s bag, Mama-"

"Yes, of course." your mother interjected with a fond smile. "Everything’s packed for her too. I feel like I’m sending away two daughters."

The room burst into laughter, the shared warmth easing some of the tension. But then your brother, Rayan, spoke up, his tone a little less cheerful.

"You’re going to visit, right, sis?"

Your heart broke at the sight of his forlorn expression. You reached out, pulling him closer so that he stood right in front of you.

"Of course, I will," you assured him gently. "I am not going that far. And you’re going to visit me too, alright? In fact, I’ll still be working with Dad in the office, so you can always come to meet me there too. Okay?"

He nodded reluctantly before placing a kiss on your cheek, which earned him two from you in return.

The clock ticked steadily, but Omar and his family’s absence was a glaring omission.

Where are they? you wondered, glancing toward the windows, where the hum of conversation and music from the garden seeped into the room. The guests outside seemed unaware of the creeping tension inside.

Your father, who had been deep in conversation with a relative, was suddenly approached by a servant. You caught the subtle shift in his expression concern etched into his features. Rising quickly, you gathered your flowing apparel and approached, frustration evident in your voice.

“What is it?” you demanded.

“There’s-” the servant began, but before he could finish, gunshots shattered the air, echoing from the front yard.

Screams erupted outside, freezing the room into silence for a split second before chaos broke loose. Your mother, standing by the window, gasped sharply and clutched at her chest. “Gunshots? Oh my God! What’s happening?”

“Stay here! Don’t move!” your father ordered, already making his way toward the door.

“(F/N), stop him!” your mother pleaded, panic coloring her voice. “What’s going on out there?”

Your father ignored her, his focus entirely on the source of the disturbance.

But you stepped forward, heart pounding. “I’m coming with you!”

“No, (Y/N), stay here,” your father snapped, his tone firm as he turned to block your path. “It could be dangerous!”

“I need to know what’s happening!” you protested, trying to push past him.

“Stay here with your mother-” You followed him nonetheless , staying behind him. , ignoring everyone's shouts of protest. “(Y/N)! Stop! Come back here!”

The sight in the front veranda that greeted you stole the air from your lungs. The commotion was loud and chaotic: servants whispering in horror, guests craning their necks to catch a glimpse, and there in the center of it all…...

It wasn't your in laws who came. Though Omar...

“OMAR!” Your scream tore through the air before you could stop it.

Omar.

Beaten.

Tied.

On a horse.

Arthur’s horse.

Then he was thrown like a sack in the center in a mocking way as in..

'Here, your fucking groom's here...'

Your Dad immediately held you protectively to stop you from going near the boy, his own eyes betraying the fear and shock. The guards had been shot. “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU ALL DOING?! WHY?! Get the fuck inside (Y/N), (M/N) take her!" But your feet wouldn't move.

“Seems like there’s going to be  a change of plans folks.” Dutch’s voice rang out from behind Arthur, his eyes hidden by his hat. Not only Dutch had come, but Bill and Charles too. After all, according to tradition, a man must bring his friends or brothers to stand by him.

“ARTHUR!? WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!? OMAR! OMAR! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS!?” You could still see some strength in Omar’ s body as he was writhing, barely recognizable, the suit you had brought together was in such....bloodied and ruined condition that alone made your throat choke.

But Arthur...Arthur didn’t listen and then in one swift motion, standing at the center wasted no more time in doing what he came for. No….he can’t …he can’t be possibly thinking of doing-

"No!...Arthur! DON'T! Please-" Your plea went ignored.

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

"(Y/N)...(L/N)."

“N-no... don't- yo-u animal-" Omar choked out, every fiber of his being fighting to rise up, to somehow break free from the agony , the restraints and face the men who dared to do this to you. On their wedding. He was consumed with the desperate urge to protect you, to stop this madness.

Arthur's cold eyes narrowed, a dangerous smirk curling at the corners of his lips. "Say that again," he taunted, voice low and menacing.

"Let... her go... she's- she doesn't deserve a- pathetic man like you...you sc-um." Omar’s words were strained, each one a battle against the pain and exhaustion coursing through his body.

Without hesitation, Arthur raised his gun and fired three quick shots, striking Omar in the chest. The sound of the bullets ringing through the air was followed by screams, yours, Omar’s, and the terrified gasps of the servants hidden in corners.

"NO! YOU MANIAC!” you growled, fury flooding your veins as you watched your fiancé writhe in pain. Your words made Arthur’s eyes burn with more fury, the mocking smile fading into something darker as he aimed the gun at Omar again, this time his head, ready to finish what he’d started.

What a pathetic sight anyway.

But before he could fire, Dutch stepped in, moving swiftly to grab Arthur’s arm, halting him mid-motion.

“This is your special day,” Dutch said, his voice laced with something almost amused. “Let him live. You won anyway.”

Arthur’s rage flared up, his grip tightening around the gun as he glared at Dutch, not wavering from his stance.

"Don’t make me repeat myself, boy. No further blood. I don't think he's going to survive anyway..."

You couldn’t hold back the shout that escaped you, helplessness clawing at your chest. "HOW CAN YOU!? YOU ANIMALS!"

The sight of the other guests scrambling to flee, their faces twisted with fear and confusion, only made your heart sink further. Your father’s face was pale with horror, and your mother trembled beside him, helpless in the face of all this chaos.

“Someone, go help Omar!” (F/N) shouted, his voice hoarse with panic. His eyes locked onto the servants who were still frozen in place, fear paralyzing them. “Now! Do something!”

Your family huddled together, your mother pulling you close. Your younger brother, clung to your father, his face buried in his chest, sobbing uncontrollably.

Arthur holstered his revolver, his jaw tight, his gaze unwavering as he turned toward you. His eyes softened only slightly, but there was no apology in his demeanor.

Dutch stepped forward, arms outstretched as if to calm the chaos, though his smirk betrayed his amusement. "Well, now, that’s one way to quiet the doubters. Any one else wants to play hero?"

Your father stepped forward, trembling with fury, shielding you and your brother behind him. “You think you can come here, ruin everything, and walk out without consequence? You’ve destroyed her life, her future!”

Dutch chuckled darkly, leaning in close. "Big words for a man who just watched his son-in-law-to-be piss himself. Better watch that temper, old man. I wouldn’t want Arthur to get any more ideas." Dutch continued sauntering a few steps with his hands raised.

"Now, Mister (L/N), I understand this isn’t… ideal. But you know how it is. The world ain’t fair, and sometimes you just have to let things...go. Man to man...years ago, I came to return your girl, didn’t I? Found her lost, scared... vulnerable. And I handed her back with no strings attached. Out of respect. Now, we have come to take her....with respect. And you damn well know that even if the law gets here, they won’t care about this. It’s only a crime on paper… in reality, the sheriffs and marshals? They won’t lift a finger. They don’t give a damn about this"

"HOW CAN YOU DO THIS ARTHUR! ALL OF YOU! I FUCKING TRUSTED YOU!"

"Sweetheart, Arthur’s done the word and by law, well, by our law, that means you are coming with us. However, you wanna go, whether, crying, whining, screaming....but you are gonna go...ain't that right Arthur.”

"Damn right, Dutch."

No...no..wait--this can't be real right? Arthur must be doing some prank.

The pain in your chest was suffocating, and the anger burned so intensely that it almost felt like it would consume you. Your eyes were fixed on Omar's body, alive or lifeless? Being helped and dragged away...

God, let him live.

“No! I won’t go! I fucking won't!” You screamed, the words escaping through a mix of sobs and sheer frustration. “You can’t make me! Yo-u are playing--Dad--I know he's pranking me! I know it! He won't do this--right? You won't do this Arthur, say it!”

“Stay where you are!” your father shouted, positioning himself in front of you protectively. But Arthur barely acknowledged him. His focus was solely on you.

You stumbled back further, the suffocating anger now laced with raw terror. Your parents clung to you, but you wrenched free, the heat of Arthur’s presence pressing too close.

“You’re fucked in the head! THIS IS MY LIFE! I CHOOSE WHAT I WANT! NOBODY ELSE! ESPECIALLY YOU! Son of a bitch-” you spat, the words trembling with rage as you turned and ran inside.

Arthur sighed, the sound of his boots growing louder as he followed. Seriously? He easily pushed your family out of the way preventing your father from following after you and entering the house which he knew the layout of vividly. His movements were confident, almost leisurely, as though he had walked these halls a hundred times before. The absence of the guests only made his pursuit easier.

As he ascended the stairs, his hand trailed along the railing, casually tearing down the garlands and decorations that adorned it. They fell to the ground in shredded heaps, symbols of the celebration that had been shattered, just how this life was being torn apart from pieces your life.

Your dress was hitched in your hands as you sprinted through the house. Your lungs burned, but you didn’t stop, not until you reached the study. Slamming the door shut behind you, you locked it with shaking hands and immediately dove for the desk.

'Be smart, be strong. Be calm.'

This isn’t real. They’re bluffing. They have to be. But the glint of Arthur's revolver, his actions, his words and the cold indifference in Dutch’s eyes told you otherwise. This was no...bluff or a friendly prank...

The pounding of Arthur’s boots echoed in the hall, and his voice followed, taunting and casual. “Darlin’, come on out. You can't fight this, it's already done."

Your trembling hands tore through drawers, scattering papers and trinkets in your frantic search. "Die, die, die...fuck-"you muttered, barely audible over the sound of your ragged breaths. Finally, your fingers brushed against the cold metal.

“YOU BETTER GET OUT OF OUR HOUSE, ARTHUR! YOU ASSHOLE!” you screamed, your voice hoarse with anger and fear. He merely laughed. "Really? Or what , darlin'?" Without thinking, you raised the gun, aimed toward the sound, and fired.

The first shot made Arthur grunt in surprise.

BANG!

Two more shots followed as the door shook violently under your relentless assault.

"....You done, darlin'?" Arthur’s voice rasped, still calm , edged with a dark amusement.

"DON'T FUCKING CALL ME THAT!"

You fired again, the bullet tearing through the wood. Your hands were shaking now, your breathing ragged. The final shot left the chamber, leaving the air heavy with the acrid smell of gunpowder.

You fumbled with the revolver, desperate to reload, but your hands trembled too much to work quickly. The sweat not helping at all.

'Don't let him in, don't let him in, (Y/N).'

The door, already weak, now flew off its hinges as he sauntered in. Finally, your shaking fingers managed to slot two bullets into the chamber. You raised the gun again, aiming with what little steadiness you could muster.

"NO! STAY BACK!,” you hissed, voice cracking.

He didn't listen. Like you expected.

BANG!

The bullet hit him, low in the chest, and Arthur staggered, a sharp intake of breath betraying his pain. His hand flew to the wound, blood seeping between his fingers, but his expression didn’t falter

Arthur lunged at you before you could steady your aim, and your finger squeezed the trigger in panic.

The shot went wild, embedding itself into the ceiling as the force of his body crashed into yours. The revolver slipped from your grasp and clattered to the floor. You screamed, your fists lashing out instinctively, one of them connecting with his jaw.

He grunted, stumbling slightly, but it only seemed to fuel his determination. “You’re a little hellcat, aren’t ya?” he growled, wiping at his mouth where a faint smear of blood appeared.

You scrambled backward, desperate to put distance between you and him, but he caught your wrist and yanked you forward with unsettling ease.

"Let me go! ARE YOU MAD ARTHUR!? WHAT'S GOTTEN INTO YOU! PLEASE!" you shouted with tears, twisting and clawing at his arm.

Arthur didn’t flinch. His grip was iron as he forced you down onto the nearest couch, pinning you beneath him. The weight of him pressed into you, making it difficult to breathe as you thrashed against him.

"Keep fightin’, darlin’, "he murmured, "You’re just makin’ this harder on yourself."

Your knee shot up, aiming for his stomach, but he anticipated the move and shifted, pinning your legs down with his own. His hand grabbed your dress, and for a moment, fear twisted into something colder in your chest.

"STOP! DON'T-"

"Be still."

He tore at the hem of your dress, not with the intent to harm, but to rip free a strip of fabric. His fingers staining your apparel as his other hand pressed against the wound in his side, blood staining his shirt and seeping between his fingers.

He worked quickly, wrapping the torn fabric around his torso with surprising efficiency, his hands steady despite the crimson soaking into the makeshift bandage.

Your breath came in sharp gasps as you glared up at him, anger and fear battling in your chest. "You’re sick in the head. ABSOLUTELY SICK! ONLY A COWARD WOULD DO THIS!" you spat, venom lacing your words.

He seized your jaw with such force that your mouth snapped shut, your eyes narrowing into slits under the pressure. Arthur leaned in, his piercing gaze burning into yours with a chilling intensity. "Call me whatever you like, darlin’. It won’t change a damn thing. You’re coming with me. End of story."

With his free hand, he gripped your fingers, his touch rough and unrelenting as he yanked the ring from your hand. The metallic clink as it hit the ground was filled with disdain, as though the very sight of it repulsed him. Without hesitation, he slid a new ring onto your trembling finger.

"You take this off, and you’ll be missing some fingers."

His tone was calm, almost too calm, as if he thrived on your resistance. His sick, cruel revenge for the rejection. This couldn't be the same fucking man....you wrote to, shared light moments, who you felt safe with. He should have been the last man to make you feel this exposed and vulnerable. He was....totally gone now, almost as if possessed.

"You played enough fucking games, now it's my turn."

❀˖°

Meanwhile, downstairs, your parents and Rayan were huddled in the corner, your mother clutching your brother tightly as though her grip alone could shield him from the madness. Your father stood protectively in front of them, every muscle taut, but even he knew one wrong move could be disastrous.

Dutch, however, looked unfazed, seated casually in the loveseat, a cloud of smoke curling from the cigarette dangling between his fingers. His sharp eyes scanned the room, unbothered by the panic that clung to the air like a suffocating fog.

“Charles,” Dutch said, his voice calm yet commanding, “take the boy and Mrs. (L/N) to gather the girl’s necessities.”

Charles hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering toward the stairs before nodding. He motioned for your mother and Rayan to follow, his expression hardening as he led them toward the hallway. Your mother cast a desperate, tear-filled glance at your father before disappearing with your brother.

As the door shut behind them, Dutch finally stood, flicking ash from his cigarette with deliberate ease. He turned to your father, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"How?” your father spat, his voice trembling with fury. “Why? Is this why you saved her all those years ago? To... to ruin her life now? You fucking filth."

Dutch closed the distance between them, his eyes narrowing. “Oh, absolutely not,” he said, his tone mockingly offended. “Your daughter? She’s a firecracker, no doubt about it. But innocent?” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous timbre. “Not as innocent as she likes to think.”

Your father’s hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white as he struggled to keep himself from lashing out. “What the hell are you talking about?!” he growled. “She hasn’t done anything to you! Think twice about speaking about her like that! You are the one to say this?!”

Dutch straightened, taking a slow drag of his cigarette. "Didn’t she? Well, must have kept you in the dark then...” he said, exhaling a plume of smoke. “Trapped one of my strongest men in some kind of spell, huh? Poor Arthur, wallowing in misery over a petty little thing. Can’t have that going on with my son, now can I?” His grin widened, cruel and calculated. "Don’t worry, though. She gonna be in safe hands."

“She did no such thing!” your father roared, his voice echoing through the room.

But then the sharp, jarring crack of gunfire rang out from upstairs, six shots in rapid succession.

Your father’s eyes widened in horror. “(Y/N)!” he cried, surging toward the stairs, only to be intercepted by Dutch, who pressed a hand firmly against his chest to hold him back.

“Stay put,” Dutch ordered, his tone brooking no argument. He gestured with his cigarette toward the ceiling, his expression entirely unbothered. “She’s probably fine. A little fight in her, that one, but Arthur can handle it.”

Your father’s chest heaved with restrained rage, his eyes blazing. “If anything happens to her-”

Dutch raised a hand to cut him off, smirking as he took another drag. "Relax. You should be proud. She’s got courage." His grin turned sharper

"Please, for fuck’s sake! I BEG YOU! You can ask for anything else, anything! Just let her go! Please, what do you want? Gold? Money? Just name it!" Your father’s voice cracked, desperation and fear pooling in every syllable.

Dutch chuckled, a low, mocking sound that filled the room. "C’mon, don’t tell me you’re so clueless to this tradition," his voice dripped with condescension. Your daughter’s married now, and look, even better, it’s the occasion.”

Your father’s hands trembled, the weight of helplessness bearing down on him. His lips parted as though to speak again, but no words came. His eyes flickered toward the stairs, where gunfire had just torn through the house, his thoughts scattered, struggling to comprehend everything unfolding.

At that moment, Bill, who had been standing silently in the background, moved behind Dutch and whispered something to him as your father stood broken at the side, his face twisted in silent grief, barely able to hold himself upright.

"Dutch...aren't we going to loot..." Bill's voice was hushed, but still tinged with curiosity and greed.

Dutch silenced him with a glare, one that made Bill pause.

"Now’s not the time. We came here for your brother’s sake, remember?”

Bill seemed to understand, taking a step back and nodding quietly. Dutch, however, didn’t break his smile.

Your father, still trembling, shot a glance toward the stairs, his mind racing with dread. He was standing on the precipice of losing everything, and there was nothing he could do.

"Don’t worry," Dutch continued with mocking reassurance, his hand resting casually on the hilt of his gun. "We’ll take care of her."

The sound of approaching footsteps was unmistakable, growing louder with each passing second. Through the open door, the trio saw Arthur, dragging you by the back of your neck like a ragdoll as he descended and made his way to the front door, your screams filling the hallway.

"DAD! HELP!"

"Well, that was a one hell of a climax. Time for us to go," Dutch stubbed his cigar, mused.

"NO! At least promise me you’ll let her meet us, Dutch! ARTHUR!?" Your father’s voice cracked as he desperately followed them outside, his every step driven by panic.

"I ain't promising nothing," came a flat, unfeeling reply from Arthur.

He continues dragging you to the horses, his grip unyielding, his eyes fixed forward, refusing to meet your tear-streaked face. He ignores your curses, your protests, and even the anguish that radiates from you. He can't bear the sight of your grief-stricken expression, it gnaws at something deep within him, unsettling in a way he won’t admit.

But a custom is a custom. A law is a law. No matter how cruel it may seem. If he can do it, so he will. He deserves this. You made him do it. That’s what he tells himself. That’s what he has to believe.

Right now, there’s no one, nothing, that can change his mind. Not even you.

"You heard the man," Dutch added.

With no further hesitation, he shoved you towards the waiting horse, the sight of it sending a jolt of fear through your chest. “Get on,” he ordered.

Dutch, standing nearby, raised an eyebrow and let out a chuckle. "Wow, Arthur seems like she gave you a run for your money."

But Arthur, not in the mood for jokes, shot him a glare before forcefully pushing you over the side of the horse. The impact jolted you, knocking the wind out of you, but you barely had time to recover before Arthur was behind you. He swung himself up with ease, his arm immediately locking around your waist and arms, not allowing you to smack his face.

"ARTHUR, STOP! PLEASE! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!" You screamed, your voice breaking with every word. "DAD! MAMA!!"

“Let her have her moment,” Dutch muttered. “It won’t change a damn thing.”

“Keep quiet,” he murmured, almost soothingly, his breath warm against your neck. “We’re not finished yet, but it’s better this way.”

"I'll NEVER FORGIVE YOU ARTHUR! I TRUSTED YOU! YOU SICK BASTARD."

You couldn't believe that he, Arthur , of all people would pull this sick tradition on you.

Arthur’s jaw ticked, but his face remained unreadable as he nudged the horse forward. “You don’t have to forgive me,” he muttered, his voice low. “But you will understand.”

As the group began to move, the last thing you saw was your father standing alone in the yard, his figure hunched with defeat and sorrow.

From inside, your mother’s muffled cries pierced the stillness, her silhouette visible through the window. She clung to Charles, who whispered words of comfort, his hand resting gently on her shoulder. But it was futile. The anguish etched on her face, the way her fingers clawed at the glass, spoke volumes, she was powerless, just as they all were, as they watched you being taken.

Dragged away from your shell, from the safe haven that had cradled you. Dragged away from the life you knew, the life you were about to begin, toward nothing but hell.

❀˖°

Hosea stood frozen for a moment, the faint crunch of boots on the dirt fading as the reality of what he was seeing set in. His feet moved almost instinctively, drawn toward the commotion in disbelief. He’d been hearing whispers all day, murmurs of a celebration, an event, an important job for Arthur the men went for, but he had dismissed them as the usual camp talk, exaggerations, half-truths, nonsense.

But now, seeing Arthur dismount his horse and drag a trembling girl, still clad in a torn and dirtied wedding dress, toward the tent... it was undeniable. They had really done it.

His gaze darted to Susan, who stood just as stunned. Their earlier conversation flashed in his mind, the discussion about where the men had gone, the unease about the strange orders from Dutch, and the peculiar behavior of the girls tasked with tossing roses on the ground like it was some sort of sick celebration. He’d hoped, prayed even, that it was some kind of twisted joke, a misunderstanding that would blow over.

But this?

This was no misunderstanding.

He couldn’t look away from the girl's figure, her torn dress, her tangled hair, her earring missing, her sandals scuffed and unevenly hanging on her feet, as Arthur pulled her forward, unrelenting, without so much a word.

"What the hell have you done, Arthur?" Though no one was near enough to hear it.

Neither of them could stop watching as Arthur continued forward, the girl stumbling in his grasp.

Your stomach churned every second as your eyes registered the half-hearted trail of roses that lined the dirt path leading to Arthur’s tent.

What a sick fucking joke. Sick people.

The petals were scattered unevenly, their soft pinks and reds a stark, mocking contrast to a camp filled with bloodied hands. Clearly, an instruction to decorate, under Dutch’s twisted idea of humor and celebratory mood for something mentioned as a 'Special night, ladies and gents.' They looked less like a romantic gesture and more like an haunting welcome for a captive bride.

Arthur’s grip on you was ironclad as he dragged you through the camp. Every step felt heavier, the sound of your feet and protests against the ground swallowed by the murmurs around you. The others watched silently from the sidelines, the faces curious, some avoiding your gaze entirely, others too indifferent to hide their stares.

The girls, who had once whispered excitedly about the possibility of Arthur performing the tradition, now stood frozen, their faces pale with realization. They had heard the rumors, the stories of lovers who ran away together taking advantage of this tradition and some had hoped that you, his secret new lover, and Arthur were following that same romantic, rebellious path instead of the other one, which was done out of either malice, ego and all the darker emotions. But as they watched, they saw the truth, this was no act of love, no escape from an overbearing family. This one was performed as the latter option...

"Ladies and gentlemen, c'mon, celebrate. Our boy's married. Your brother Arthur! Javier, hit the tune, boy," Dutch called out, his voice cutting through the murmur of the crowd, forcing attention back onto him. "Tonight’s a night of celebration, in fact, this whole week! A celebration of new beginnings, don’t you all agree?"

He received few cheers and hoots and the music picked up, the strumming of the guitar piercing the otherwise silent night. But for now, the noise was a necessary distraction. The leader was tired of the whole drama and wasn't in the mood to hear you yelling.

"We’ve got ourselves a fine family here, don’t we? Now let’s enjoy this night."

The celebration continued, the laughter getting louder by the second but you....you were stuck with nothing but a monster in a suffocating space.

❀˖°

"WHY?! ARTHUR, WHY?!" Your voice cracked with frustration and disbelief as the words tumbled out, the weight of it all suffocating you.

Arthur’s eyes were cold, his expression unreadable as he loomed over you. His grip tightened on your jaw, his fingers pressing into your skin with cruel force. "Why? Huh? Because I wanted to. And I did it," he replied, his voice low and venomous, as if daring you to challenge him.

You struggled against him, your mind racing, trying to make sense of the madness. "Because I rejected you?! HUH?! You couldn’t fucking handle that?! NOTHING CAN SCREAM COWARDICE MORE THAN THIS!"

Arthur’s face twisted, dark fury flashing in his eyes. Without warning, his hand shot up to your hair, yanking it painfully. You gasped, the sharp sting shooting through your scalp. Your heart raced, and a sick feeling churned in your chest.

"Not so in authority now, hm?" Arthur sneered, his grip on your jaw tightening further, his nails digging into your skin. "Did your precious money help? Your pristine pathetic fiancé? Your daddy? See? At the end of the day, you had nothing," he spat, each word like a dagger to your chest.

You couldn’t breathe, every inch of your body screaming in agony. But even as his fingers threatened to crush your spirit, you refused to let him see your weakness. You glared up at him, despite the pain, despite the fear.

"I HAD EVERYTHING!" The words escaped in a broken, desperate gasp, but they were firm. Your chest heaved with every breath, your body trembling under his hold. Your lower body was already tired due to the ride and all the struggle and now from scraping against the ground, supporting your upper body as he held you without an ounce of softness.

"Yo-u fucker- I still have everything. Will have, always." You spat, rage flooding your veins as the words broke through the pain. "I am not the one who lost dignity, it's you, cowboy. Men lik-e you, lowlifes, so desperate to have anyt-hing, that they have to use some illiterate, pitiable traditions just to get the bare minimum-"

Arthur let out a low chuckle, his grip tightening around your waist as he lifted you up, his gaze cold and calculating. He held you there, suspended against his chest, his eyes boring down into yours as if searching for something to break, something to conquer.

"Nice speech," he mocked, his voice dripping with venom. "I see where Daddy put all his efforts when raising you. But say whatever the fuck you want, sweetheart. Just remember to look around and see where you are before you do."

His words cut through you, each one an anchor pulling you deeper into the hellish reality of your situation. "Yeah, you're back with us, but it ain't the same anymore, darlin'. You are with me now. Your husband." He smirked which made your stomach turn. "And I ain’t gonna be nice anymore."

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "This is what happens when you act all coy and play with someone, someone like me."

Your heart pounded, and you tried to push against him, but he held you firmly, his strength like iron around your body. "You si-cko! You think I wanted this? Wanted you?! Don't forget you were the one begging to be with me! You could have done this with anyone! Any other woman Arthur! ANY! WHY DID YOU HAVE TO RUIN MY LIFE!?"

Arthur’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening, before he roughly shoved you, lifting you up and throwing you onto the cot with force. The impact left you gasping for breath as you struggled to make sense of everything. "Shut your fuckin' mouth," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

"I think it's clear by now, why you."

You barely had time to react before he seized both of your wrists, pinning them behind you with a brutal grip. His movements were cold and calculated as he reached beneath the cot, pulling out something that made your heart stop. You had no time to process what it was before he was tying your hands to the cot's frame, his fingers quick and efficient, securing you in place.

"NO! STOP!-" you started, panic creeping into your voice, but Arthur cut you off with a chilling command.

"Be thankful I ain't gagging your loud mouth. Now missy, you are gonna sit here all nice," he said, his tone devoid of any emotion, "till I come back."

You struggled, pulling against the tight restraints, but it was no use. Your body was pressed against the rough material of the cot, and the reality of your situation hit you like a punch to the gut.

Arthur stood over you, his eyes under the hat scanning every inch of you with a gaze so cold it made your skin crawl. His eyes lingered on your wedding suit, disheveled from the rough treatment, your face streaked with angry tears, the fury, fear, and pain burning in your gaze.

He took in the scene...really took it in.

You

Now sitting on his cot.

Unable to escape.

Bound and helpless.

Perfect.

"You better hope I don't come back to a mess."

"WAIT! Arthur please, t-think--I am--ready to forgive you if you take me back, I swear I'll forget--I'll forget this night in a flash! And my family too. And I am sorry if I hurt you that day but please….y'know, I don't deserve it...y'know it right?! I DON'T! PLEASE! Be the same Arthur you were before, please…we were friends. Friends...don't do this. C'mon..there's still time. Please. Take me back..." You let yourself sob hoping that he will see some sense...feel your pain.

Friends.

Arthur froze for a moment, his hand gripping the tent's flap, his body tensing as your words rang in the air. The desperation in your voice hit him like a blow, each syllable a plea for mercy, for the man you thought he could be, the man he used to be. But he didn’t turn around, didn’t immediately react. Instead, he stood there, his breath shallow.

His eyes closed briefly, and for a moment, there was something, something that almost looked like hesitation. His jaw clenched tight, his mind warring with itself.

He should walk away. He knew he should. This wasn’t supposed to be about you anymore, wasn’t supposed to be about anything resembling softness or mercy. He had made this choice, gone this far, and there was no going back.

But then, your words sank deeper. He could hear it in the way you begged, the way you crumbled before him, the desperate promise that you’d forget this night, as if erasing it could make everything right again. He wanted to believe it. He wanted to believe that he could take you back and everything would be like before, that his world could go back to the way it was when you and him...met in that cafe and everything felt simple.

No.

He couldn't let himself go there. Not now.

That place was where it all started and unfolded. Where his love was humiliated. It was the same...cafe where Mary had met him a few times. Yeah, that's why he chose it because he wanted a new chapter with you filled with the same sweetness...

With a slow, controlled exhale, he finally turned around, meeting your tear-streaked eyes. There was something in his gaze, something darker and colder than before.

"You think I care about your forgiveness? Your apology?" His voice was low and rough, but there was a strange calm to it now. "Well, sweetheart, you believed in reality right? Different worlds huh? Here it is. My world. Which means it's your world now. One single world now. And you are going to accept it. And all this bullshit about friendship- well, you'd be shocked to know that this is the same me, this is how we can be when we want to be. That's what an outlaw is, darlin'."

He stormed out of the tent and his ears were greeted with music which he totally didn't hear when he was inside, as if his ears had blocked the noise.

The congratulatory nods and claps on the back from the boys barely reached his ears, they too backed of sensing his mood. He kept his eyes ahead, his thoughts spiraling into a fog as he headed toward the wagon to treat the damn wounds.

In his heart he was chuckling though, at your attempts that took place earlier.

Endearing indeed.

He could still hear your voice in his head, desperate, pleading, and it only made the gnawing frustration and anger inside him worse. Your apology, your words of regret, meant nothing now. In his mind, it was too late for that. He had already made his choice, and the consequences were to be damned.

"Ms. Grimshaw, c'mere!" Arthur barked, tossing his jacket onto the wagon and snatching up the medical kit.

Nearby, Grimshaw was fending off Mary and Tilly, who swarmed her with questions like inquisitive hornets after Dutch had spun his tale, taking credit, of course. Arthur found his love because of me.

"Why didn’t you ever tell us she was here before, huh?"

"How rich is she, exactly?"

"Is it really love marriage, though?"

With one sharp scolding, Grimshaw silenced the girls and made her way toward the new groom.

"It’s (Y/N). Remember?"

"Y-yes...I remember-"

"Exactly, now go inside that tent and get some sense into her head. She needs to realize how things work. How they are gonna fuckin' work."

He shot her a look that dared her to question him. Grimshaw hesitated for a moment, her usual strict eyes flicking toward his tent where you were likely still seething with rage and sorrow.

"Now!" Arthur barked, once again.

With a stiff nod, Grimshaw swallowed her uncertainty and turned toward the tent, the weight of his command heavy in her steps. Arthur watched her go, then turned away to tend to his wounds.

❀˖°

Susan entered the tent, her steps hesitant as she tried to piece together how she was supposed to handle this mess. Her sharp eyes took you in, sitting motionless on the cot, trembling, your expression caught somewhere between disbelief and seething rage.

Oh, dear.

The sight pulled at something deep inside her. You weren’t a child anymore, that much was clear, but it was the very fact that you had grown, matured, and still ended up here, in this nightmare, that shattered her heart. All the efforts they had made to shield you from the darkness of the world felt cruelly pointless. The very horrors they had once tried to save you from had found you anyway, only worse, delivered by the very people who had sworn to protect you.

"Girlie..." Susan's voice softened as she moved closer, kneeling down and sitting in front of you. Your eyes remained fixed on the distance, unblinking and hollow.

"I'm so sorry for... what happened. It's me, Susan. Remember? Aunty Susan. I’m with you, okay? Hey, please, look at me." She reached out hesitantly, and suddenly, your head snapped toward her, startling her just enough to make her flinch.

"Su-Susan? Aunty Susan? Listen, you have to help me, right fucking now. Open the rope, just open it, and I swear, I'll reward you. You’ll be taken care of for life. In fact, come with me, and you'll see how much you'll be rewarded. Here, take this necklace! It's worth so much! C’mon, take it! Open the rope woman!" Your voice cracked, a frantic desperation breaking through every word, as your neck nudged the jeweled necklace toward her.

Susan swallowed hard, her gaze lingering on the necklace. It was beautiful an obvious treasure, but it wasn’t the gleam of gold or gems that stilled her. It was what it symbolized, the dreams your parents had woven into this day, the life you were supposed to have, and even her own long-buried memories of what her wedding day had meant to her.

"You have to... understand," she whispered, her voice trembling just enough to betray her own emotions. "I can’t, darling. I can’t do that. It won’t help anyone. Trust me."

You stared at her, your breaths hitching, disbelief written across your face as her words hung heavy in the air. Not knowing what else to do, not knowing how to comfort you, or even how to be firm, Susan leaned forward and wrapped her arms around you.

"H-how did this happen?! Tell me it's a joke..."

"It's not," Susan said softly, her voice steady but laced with sorrow. "It's real. And it’s only going to get worse if I do what you’re asking of me. For you , for me and...even your family. So don’t ask me that. Don’t ask me for what I can’t give you, darling."

"I wanna go back--please--let me go!"

Her hand moved to your head, gently caressing it as she smoothed your messy hair, the gesture tender and maternal. "I’m here with you, okay? I’m here,"

You didn't know how long you sobbed pathetically in her arms being cradled like a child. By now she had wrapped a blanket around you , another way to offer comfort , warmth and to shield you...perhaps momentarily, but still.

Just then, someone cleared their throat outside. Your mind immediately went on high alert, hyperaware of Arthur’s presence or any man’s presence, and you stiffened. Sensing your panic, Susan tightened her grip on you protectively.

"Yes?" she called out sharply.

"I brought the Miss's stuff..."

"Come in," Susan replied.

Charles stepped inside, his eyes downcast as he carried several bags and a chest, placing them carefully in a corner.

"I-uh... also brought your cat," he added, his voice softer, as though he wasn’t sure how to break the news.

"Suki?! Where?! Is she okay?" Her name alone made some scrap of hope return to your eyes.

"She’s in my tent for now... don’t worry, she’s safe," Charles reassured you, glancing at you briefly before looking away.

"Please bring her here-" you started, your desperation palpable, but your words were cut off by the sound of heavy boots entering the tent.

Arthur strode in with a bowl in his hand, his presence oppressive and inescapable. Charles froze, his back straightening as he turned toward Arthur.

"You didn't bring anything extra right? Just the necessary stuff?"

"Nothing extra. Didn't take anything else...just like you said. Only important stuff her mother gave."

"Hm, right."

Charles then immediately exited the tent with a stiff nod.

"You two havin' a little heart-to-heart in here?" His eyes flicked to Susan. "Hope you’re not fillin’ her head with any ideas, Miss Grimshaw. She don’t need no rescuin’. She’s right where she’s meant to be."

He stepped closer, the bowl in his hand almost forgotten. "Now, you gonna make sure she eats, or do I need to stay here and do it myself?"

"I am doing it, Arthur."

Even Susan was pissed internally at the boy, beyond pissed but she couldn't say anything.

Without waiting for a response, he turned sharply and exited the tent, his boots crunching against the dirt outside.

You couldn't take more than one bite due to your misery. Your head pounding with visions of what a fucking nightmare you went through today. Not only you...but your family and...Omar. God, he didn't deserve this, any of this. It's all your fucking fault. ALL OF IT! Why did you have to be friends with a fucking outlaw of all people? How the fuck are you supposed to rest for a second not even knowing if he survived or not. And his family? God, knows what these assholes did to them. You had found a gem of a man, whom you were about to marry and spend a peaceful life...it's all gone...? Just like that?

"Though, for the record, I’m not fond of buying flowers. I prefer them in their roots, not plucked out."

Omar tilted his head, intrigued. "Fair enough," he said with a soft chuckle. "I’ll keep that in mind next time."

You realized how deeply you related to the flowers that were plucked from their roots, uprooted from the soil they called home. Taken not for their own sake, but because someone else wanted them. Wanted to display them, to use their beauty to adorn a corner of their world. In this case, to be nothing more than an accessory in someone else’s life.

❀˖°

Dutch sat at the small table, casually pouring himself a drink, his demeanor annoyingly calm in the face of Hosea’s frustration.

"So this was it, huh?" Hosea snapped, his voice sharp. "Him getting a bigger tent, a new, bigger cot, you ordering to decorate the whole damn camp like it was a festival, all that shit was for this?! Whilst you kept silent and watched him?!"

Dutch took a sip of his drink and leaned back in his chair, unfazed. "Yes, so? Weren't you the one worried about him, Hosea? I just did what was necessary."

"Necessary?!" Hosea practically exploded, throwing his hands in the air. "God give me strength. I said to talk to him, Dutch. Or better yet, to talk sense into him! And what did you do? You sided with him! Egged him on! Didn't even tell me all of this?"

"I didn’t side with him, Hosea. I gave him what he needed. Handled it, reigned him in. Don't wanna lose him now, do we?"

"And you think this was the way to handle it?"

"Hosea, he is his own man, he can make decisions, I just supported him! So stop clutching your pearls and see the bigger picture here-" They paused as Molly stepped into the tent, carrying a bowl of stew.

"Thanks, darling," he said with a warm smile, pressing a kiss to her cheek before watching her saunter back out to the lively sounds of the camp party.

"First of all, sit down."

With a grunt, Hosea obeyed, though it was clear from the slump of his shoulders that he wasn’t entirely willing. He braced himself for whatever convoluted plan Dutch was about to spin, fully expecting it to be something that would leave him exasperated.

Dutch leaned forward, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial tone. "Okay, this, for now, stays between you and me. Got it? Especially not Arthur. The boy’s already on some level of feral, and I’m trying to keep the fire under control. So yeah, I fed him a fish, like you’d toss to a starving lion but this fish, Hosea… this is a special one. Trust me when I say that. You are going to like it too, in fact thank me. And you noticed, right? No dowry taken today. Not a cent from her family. Arthur didn’t want it, too proud, too sentimental, apparently an honourless act for him, which is fine. I get it. But me? I had my reasons too. Always do."

"We are not lootin' em Dutch. Not a leaf or stone."

"Course' pal...Just the girl."

Dutch took a slow sip of his drink, savoring the moment. "Just trust me," he repeated, his voice steady but insistent. "I didn’t bring in some girl. I brought a gem itself. And don’t you start on that 'we saved her years ago' crap, because let me remind you, it wasn’t me who decided to have some kind of romantic rendezvous with her. That was Arthur. And, well, maybe it’s fate. The boy finally made a damn choice."

"So dragging her into this mess is your idea of brilliance? Another one of your so-called masterstrokes?"

Dutch leaned forward, his voice lowering into something just short of a warning. "Trust the process, Hosea. Have some damn faith. Don’t let her tears fool you, she’s no saint in all this. She brought some of this on herself, and you know it."

"Oh, I’m sure she did," Hosea bit back, his voice laced with sarcasm. "But tell me, Dutch, what woman in her right mind would ever want this?"

Dutch leaned back, unruffled, a sly smile creeping upon his face. "Want it? Maybe not. But this is what happens when you get tangled up with us. Choices were made, Hosea, by her and by Arthur. And now? She’s one of us. A Van Der Linde."

─AN: A fic of mine can't be whole without Dutch's plans ofc ¬_¬) To be added or removed , you can always comment , I'd suggest commenting on the first part so you guys aren't scattered everywhere. Peace.

★ tag list: @shackspossum @whalecage @nayykura @m1stea @warmsideofthepillow03 @thatoneraeder @marzintears @nxttaru @cazzacarm @she-is-my-unrequited-love34 @nulixity @poll-u @bajabish @cheesycheddarr @luzzbuzz @dilfsarelife @ninastyless @claire-is-here @raeraypoca @hopingtoclearmedschool @lain3iwakura @bashfulcowgirl87 @catjsashrine @bipolarbitties @lizynownow

[bugdogg]

uhhh something something learn to love yourself dummy

(this is mostly a doodle, i wanted to draw Zuki w their past self for a while now so yayyyy)

[latenightreadingpdf]

Beneath the Moonlight - Remus Lupin

���‧⁺˖⋆ Masterlist ⋆˖⁺‧₊

Summary: In the days leading up to a full moon, Remus Lupin receives an anonymous gift basket filled with potions, chocolates, and a carefully-brewed Wolfsbane Potion.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Y/N considered herself a rather observant student, especially when it came to the Marauders. It was hard not to notice them, really. They were practically a four-person parade through the halls of Hogwarts—pranks, laughter, and charm trailing behind them like a comet's tail. James Potter with his messy hair and endless attempts to impress Lily Evans, Sirius Black with his dazzling grin and effortless cool, Peter Pettigrew following close, always eager to please. But one Marauder stood out to her more than the rest. Remus Lupin.

There was something about him that had Y/N hooked from the beginning. Perhaps it was his quiet brilliance or the way he seemed to carry a world of mysteries in those warm, honey-colored eyes. Or maybe, it was the way new scars seemed to appear on his face and hands every so often, faint but unmistakable. They fascinated her, those scars, and as her gaze lingered on him in class or at meals, she found herself trying to figure him out.

And, admittedly, somewhere along the way, Y/N developed a bit of a crush on him. But who wouldn’t? He was brilliant, always top of the class without trying too hard, and—and yes, he was gorgeous. Handsome in that annoyingly effortless way. Soft, tousled hair that practically begged to be touched, sharp cheekbones, and—Merlin, those knit jumpers that always made him look so adorable. How was that fair? It was like he’d been sculpted by some benevolent god of tall, bookish, sweater-loving dream boys.

But Y/N’s interest in him was more than just attraction. There was something… otherworldly about him. She’d started to notice patterns—how he would seem worn and pale every few weeks, how he would disappear entirely from school grounds for a day or two, only to return looking exhausted and, if possible, even more scarred than before.

A month ago, after endless speculation and careful observation, Y/N had arrived at a conclusion: Remus Lupin was probably a werewolf. She wasn’t completely certain; it was more of an educated guess. But what could she do with this theory? It wasn’t like she could walk up to him and blurt out, “Hey, Remus! You don’t know me, but I’ve been watching you for months, and I just wanted to ask, are you, by any chance, a werewolf?”

The thought alone made her cringe. Y/N sighed, tapping her quill against her parchment. Remus Lupin might be full of mysteries and maybe—just maybe—she’d get the courage to actually talk to him someday.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The full moon was only a few days away, and Y/N could already see the toll it was taking on Remus. He was limping slightly, a stiffness in his stride that made her heart ache, and the dark circles under his eyes were more prominent than ever. He looked exhausted, like he hadn’t been sleeping in days, and though she knew he had his friends—the Marauders, always fiercely loyal—she couldn’t help but feel he needed more comfort than they could provide. She wanted to do something for him, something small but meaningful.

The idea hit her while she was rummaging through her bag in the library: an anonymous get-well-soon basket. She could leave it outside his dorm, a collection of little comforts to ease the days leading up to his transformation. She’d make sure it was subtle, not too personal, just enough to lift his spirits without drawing attention.

Excitement and nerves mixed in her stomach as she mentally listed what she’d need. A couple potions to help with sleep, pain, and anxiety, some of Honeydukes' finest chocolate, a soft blanket to keep him warm, and a few baked goods from the kitchen elves. She might even add a small note with a simple message—“Hope these bring you a bit of comfort during the full moon. Take care of yourself.”

Over the next couple of days, Y/N carefully gathered everything. She bought him a midnight-blue wool blanket that felt like a hug in fabric form and a variety of different chocolates. She used her advanced potion skills to make Murtlap Essence, a Calming Draught, and a Healing Potion.

But the most important addition was a small bottle of Wolfsbane Potion. She’d somehow managed to get her hands on the recipe, even though it wasn’t officially taught at Hogwarts—and she’d acquired a secret stash of the rare ingredients needed to brew it, though she'd never admit where from. It had taken several nights of brewing in the abandoned classroom she’d found, but she’d done it.

The full moon was only two days away when she finished assembling the basket, carefully placing the note on top before leaving it right outside the boys' dormitory. With a final glance over her handiwork, she quickly walked back to her dorm, satisfied with her work.

As she returned to her room, a little thrill of satisfaction bubbled within her. Maybe, just maybe, her small gesture would help Remus feel a little less alone, a little less burdened by the full moon’s approach. And that thought alone was enough to fill her with quiet joy.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Just a few floors below, the Marauders were still lounging in the Gryffindor common room, sprawled across chairs and couches as the fire crackled low. They’d spent hours discussing pranks, arguing about the latest Quidditch match, and bickering about everything from Potions homework to the best way to dodge Filch. When the last embers started to die, they finally decided it was time to call it a night.

As they made their way up the stairs, it was James who first spotted the basket. He froze mid-step, eyebrows raised as he pointed it out. "Er, lads... anyone know what this is?"

The other boys crowded around, peering down at the unexpected sight.

“No clue,” Peter murmured, squinting at the note resting on top.

Sirius, with his usual curiosity, leaned down and plucked up the note, inspecting it with a grin before his eyes gleamed mischievously. “Ooooooh, Remus, it’s for you!” he cooed, reading the note aloud for the group: ‘Hope these bring you a bit of comfort during the full moon. Take care of yourself.’

The boys’ faces all fell at once. Whoever had left this knew. Someone had figured it out. Their carefully crafted excuses, the timing of their sneaking around, all the little tricks they’d come up with—they thought it was foolproof. But apparently, someone had been watching more closely than they’d realized.

Without another word, they grabbed the basket, exchanging uneasy glances as they rushed into the dormitory, shutting the door firmly behind them. They gathered around Remus’s bed, where James set the basket down, and just stared at it.

“Well? Open it already!” James urged, his voice a mix of curiosity, excitement, and a tinge of concern.

Remus took a steadying breath. His friends were watching him closely as he slowly lifted the wrapping, half-expecting some kind of prank to burst out at him. But instead, he found an assortment of thoughtful items neatly arranged within the basket. A stack of Honeydukes chocolates, carefully tied together with string. A blanket, dark blue and soft, lay folded at the side. Several small bottles—potions, each labeled with precision, sat in the center, cushioned by tissue paper.

They all scanned the contents in awe and curiosity, but Sirius was the first to notice something unusual. He gasped, eyes widening as he pointed to one particular bottle.

“Holy shit, is that—”

“Wolfsbane,” Remus finished quietly, staring at the vial with a mixture of shock and disbelief.

They all fell silent, taking in the implications of that single bottle. Wolfsbane Potion was incredibly complex, nearly impossible for a student to brew, and yet here it was—crafted, sealed, and ready for him. Someone had not only figured out his secret but had gone to lengths far beyond casual concern. The potion’s presence in the basket hinted at more than just kindness; it was a deeply personal gesture, an unspoken understanding that spoke volumes.

Remus swallowed hard, his fingers brushing the cool glass of the bottle. "Did the card say who it was from?" he asked, looking over at Sirius, who shrugged and handed him the note again.

Remus read the short message over and over, searching for any hidden clues, some hint that might give away the sender. But the note was short, simple, and entirely anonymous. He turned it over, checked for invisible ink, even held it up to the light, but there was nothing.

“Not a single hint?” James murmured, peering over his shoulder, a frown deepening across his face. “Nothing?”

The group exchanged baffled glances. They examined the basket once more, handling each item carefully to make sure nothing seemed dangerous. The potions were labeled clearly and accurately, the chocolate smelled rich and sweet, and the blanket was incredibly soft—perfect for a night when he’d be feeling cold and drained. Every item seemed genuine, carefully chosen, with not a hint of a prank or hex.

As they finished examining the basket, they slowly started getting ready for bed. Remus sat quietly on his bed, his mind racing as he took in the kindness of it all. He tucked the potions into his bedside drawer, hiding the chocolate where he knew Sirius wouldn’t be able to steal it, and spread the blanket over his bed. It was soft, warmer than his own, and the weight of it settled over him like a quiet comfort he hadn’t realized he needed.

Sliding under the blanket, Remus felt a warmth blooming in his chest. Someone out there knew his secret, but instead of using it against him, they’d tried to make things a little easier. And he knew, without question, that he had to figure out who it was.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The full moon had passed in a calm that Remus had never experienced before. He woke that morning still feeling sore, but the aches were manageable. Normally, the transformations left him scarred and hollow, as if all the energy and warmth had been drained from him, leaving only exhaustion in its wake. But this time, thanks to the Wolfsbane Potion and the potions from the basket, he felt… human. Less broken.

After seeing the other Marauders off to class, Remus leaned back into his bed, feeling the softness of the new blanket wrap around him like a gentle hug. He’d spent the morning drinking one of the calming potions, using the healing salve for his aches, and nibbling on a bit of chocolate to ease his nerves. And though he was grateful, he couldn’t shake the strange blend of curiosity and unease that swirled in his mind. Who knew? Who cared this much? The secrecy felt like a burden, yet he couldn’t help but feel a small glow of warmth every time he glanced at the basket.

Meanwhile, James, Sirius, and Peter were trying to answer that very question in their own way. During Potions, they’d had an idea. Whoever had brewed Wolfsbane Potion had to be incredibly skilled, so finding out who had the best marks in Potions could narrow things down. The second Slughorn dismissed them, they pounced.

Sirius leaned casually on Slughorn’s desk, grinning with exaggerated innocence. “Professor,” he began, “say I wanted to improve my Potions skills. Just hypothetically.”

Slughorn’s eyebrows lifted, clearly intrigued by Sirius’s unusual interest. “Oh? Well, it’s about time, Mr. Black. I’d say your marks could certainly use a bit of boosting.”

“Oh, I know, I know!” Sirius waved his hands, laughing a bit. “That’s exactly why I was thinking maybe a bit of tutoring could help. So… who would you say is the top student in your class?”

James sidled up next to him, nodding earnestly. “Yeah, Professor. Who’s the best at brewing?”

Slughorn looked delighted, his chest puffing with pride at the idea of his Gryffindor students taking a sudden interest in his class. He lowered his voice as though he were sharing a prized secret. “Ah, if you’re looking for someone with real talent, you’d want to speak with Y/N Y/L/N. A truly gifted student! Absolutely meticulous with her brewing, and a Gryffindor as well! You boys ought to know her.”

Sirius and James exchanged baffled glances. “Y/N Y/L/N?” James muttered, frowning in thought.

Peter piped up, looking a little surprised. “Oh, I remember her. We did a project together in second year. She’s very sweet. I suppose she’s easy to miss, always keeping to herself.”

“Right…” Sirius trailed off, scratching his chin. “Doesn’t sound like the type to be sneaking around in the dead of night to drop off mysterious gift baskets, does she?”

“People can surprise you,” Peter shrugged. “I bet she’s got her reasons.”

After classes were over, the three Marauders nearly sprinted back to the dormitory. They’d waited all day to tell Remus their findings, and as soon as they saw him, they launched right into it.

“So,” Sirius said, flopping dramatically onto Remus’s bed, “we might know who left the basket.”

Remus looked up, eyebrows raised, though he tried to appear casual. “Really?”

James nodded, practically bouncing with excitement. “Y/N Y/L/N. Slughorn says she’s his top student in Potions. And she’s a Gryffindor, so she’d know where to find us.”

The name caught Remus off guard. “Y/N Y/L/N?” He knew exactly who she was—quiet, always hanging at the edges of things, never drawing attention to herself. He remembered her from their earlier years, especially a few years back when she and Peter had done that project together. She’d been kind and incredibly smart, but she always seemed to fade into the background.

Sirius shot him a curious look. “Wait—do you actually know her?”

Remus hesitated, carefully picking his words. “I mean… I remember her. We’ve been in classes together since first year.”

But what he didn’t say was that he’d once felt drawn to her quiet kindness. She wasn’t like other students; there was a thoughtfulness to her, a gentle intelligence that had always intrigued him. He remembered her now, the shy girl who had somehow made him feel seen, and the idea that she might have left the basket stirred something inside him—a mix of hope and nerves.

Sirius smirked, leaning in conspiratorially. “Oh, you remember her, do you?”

Remus rolled his eyes, trying to hide his blush. “Look, it’s probably not her. There’s no way she’d still remember… I mean, we barely ever talked.”

James raised his eyebrows. “Barely ever talked? That doesn’t mean she wouldn’t care. Besides,” he added with a grin, “you clearly want it to be her.”

Remus glanced away, not trusting himself to deny it. Because if it really was Y/N… she’d have gone to extraordinary lengths just to help him. It would mean she knew his secret and, rather than fearing him, had quietly found a way to ease his burden. And perhaps the most surprising part? He found himself hoping it was her.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “Alright. I’ll talk to her. See if there’s anything to this theory of yours.”

The next morning, with a hint of apprehension and excitement, Remus set out to find her. He decided to look in the library first, where he thought she might be studying between classes. But as he crossed the common room, he spotted her in the far corner, curled up in a chair with a thick book on her lap.

He took a steadying breath and made his way over to her. She looked up, clearly surprised to see him, her eyes widening as he gave a small, nervous smile.

“Hi, Y/N,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Do you mind if I join you?”

She blinked, a little flustered, but nodded, gesturing to the seat across from her. “Um, of course, Remus.”

They sat in a slightly awkward silence for a moment, and Remus could feel his heart beating hard in his chest. He cleared his throat, feeling the weight of her attention on him.

“So… I, uh, wanted to thank you,” he started, not sure how to bring it up. “For… everything.”

She stiffened slightly, her cheeks flushing, but kept her gaze steady. “I’m not sure what you mean,” she replied quietly.

He watched her, seeing the faintest hint of a smile playing at her lips, and knew then, without a doubt, that she was the one. “The gift basket. The potions. The blanket.” He lowered his voice. “The Wolfsbane. It helped me… more than I can say.”

Her face softened, and she nodded, understanding in her eyes. “I’m… really glad to hear that. I just wanted you to have what you needed. It’s not easy going through all that on your own.”

Remus felt his heart swell. Here she was, fully aware of the truth and yet sitting here, calm and kind, accepting him exactly as he was.

He met her gaze, feeling a sense of calm he hadn’t felt in ages. “Thank you, Y/N. I don’t know what I did to deserve that kind of kindness from you, but… it means a lot.”

They sat there in a comfortable silence, the unspoken words passing between them, understanding filling the space. He knew he’d found a friend in her—someone who saw through the mask he wore and had chosen to help, not out of pity, but because she understood what it meant to care quietly, deeply, and without expectation.

And perhaps, he thought with a hint of warmth, this was only the beginning of something much deeper.

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

A/N ~ this is kinda rushed sorry, school is killing me :P

[azullumi]

"my love, mine, all mine" ; aventurine

summary — to say the two of you were ‘in love’ was something too vague and weak to fully express how you hold each other.

pairing — aventurine (w/gender-neutral reader)

tags — established relationship, dual pov (his before yours), all soft and yearning and love, mix of the holy trinity (fluff, angst, and comfort), love is such a weak word and adoration is never enough, metaphors (u know me), not proofread, 1.5k words ; one-shot

tagging — @toorurs !! surprise ?

note — ichiko aoba was my inspiration for this one. anwss sleep took me out three times while i was writing this so it took me some time to finish. this is both day 4 and 5 of writing for him.

aventurine begins to notice the subtlety and learns to love the little things that make up your being.

like how you knit your eyebrows and bite the end of your pen, if not your nails, whenever you are too focused on something to the point that it’s getting you frustrated and how you would often pace the room while in deep thought because it helps keeps your mind running. he, too, takes notice on how you would arrange things in a specific order because it makes you feel satisfied and although he never really understood it all, something in the way you beam with such light reminds him of sunrise and makes his chest swell with warmth.

(you have never told him any of those things but he has eyes that follow you everywhere and threaten blindness when you are out of his sight.)

there are moments where you sleep that you’ll hum and say incoherent words, and oftentimes, he could make out his name in between your mumbles; the thought that you dream of him too comforts him. and perhaps you’ll never know but whenever you’re half-asleep, you’ll cuddle whichever is closest to you and he has to move your hands so that you’ll embrace him instead of the pillow by your side—it’s a secret that he will take to his grave.

or when you’re nervous or agitated, you would resort to biting your lip and fidgeting with your hands—oftentimes you play with your bracelet or the cuffs of your sleeves—and he holds the responsibility of diverting your attention to somewhere else; his voice, like a lull, soothes the storm that forms in your thoughts.

“do you think i can do it?” your voice breaks out into that of the nervous waters, hands shaking as the anxiety settles into your tense shoulders. the feathers of uneasiness sheds into the crevices of your mind as you think of the upcoming event that looms over your being.

“i’m sure you can.” he says and the softness of his tone soothes the unquiet thoughts that spill out of your mouth. he looks at you with a certain light in his eyes (his gaze would tug at the hem of your shirt with the fists of a child that has never known misery).

“it’s scary…” you groan, form crumbling and you bite into your lip, an unintentional habit that you do when everything seems to become so overwhelming. “what if i make a fool out of myself? what if i mess up and make a mistake?”

“there’s no need to let these worries weigh on your mind. you’re capable of doing more so you don’t have to think so little of yourself.” he wasn’t exactly the best at comforting but he tries, hoping that his words would be able to ease you of your burden. “you’ve done this many times, remember? and every single time, you succeed. even then, it’s never about making a fool out of yourself but how you were so courageous and lovely.”

aventurine takes hold of your trembling hands into his and his thumb begins to draw circles on the skin near your knuckles. silence draws between you two and he notices your breathing coming into a steady; expression becoming soft with no lingering trace of worry that bites into your lip.

“you know, i didn’t think you had the knack for comforting.”

“i try.” only for you, he does.

he likes the way the light spills into your form as you sleep, likes the mess you leave behind as your presence lingers in his home—leave the scent of your cologne in his shirt and forget your scarf behind so you can have a reason to come back—, likes the sweetness of your lips as you kiss him and he prays that he’ll taste just as much.

(“you taste like candy and forgiveness.”)

aventurine could list out all of the little things he adores about you and he picks up these subtle nuances then carves it into his hands to call his own; he began to engrave your form in his mind that his thoughts would form into an image of you, he learned how to spell out your name in his dreams in hopes that his voice will reach you in yours, he started to memorize the lines in your palm so that he’ll remember how your hand feels.

how does he tell you that the reason he falls into tragedy and a melancholic state is because he loves you and the words are never enough to tell you how he feels? he tries to in different ways, in the manner of his actions and the way he speaks of you. whenever he holds your hand, he squeezes yours three times to silently say ‘i love you’ even if you’ll never know nor understand the meaning behind his gestures—you’ll never be able to read the words he paints into your skin because you were too busy looking at his. 

he never knew what it was like to have something—or someone—to call his own until he stumbled upon your soul. he will desire and look for you like a thirsty man who longs for water, like the shore who dreams to drown in the ocean but could only feel waves of its caress, like a lost child who seeks for their mother’s cradle, like a sunflower who only knew the light of the sun (he’ll search for you in everyone else for the rest of his life and he hopes he’ll never find you).

he thinks he likes you too much, it might be his demise.

aventurine often reminds you of the sun.

it wasn’t about the way he dressed or the way he held himself—so radiant and brilliant as he wears those sparkling jewelry and watch, as he puts on his expensive coats over his tailored shirts and pants—but he was warm in a way that it reminds you of cold mornings and the soft raw comfort that you feel under the blanket with him, he was bright in a way of a sole candle in the dark that guides you back to the light, where you’re supposed to be. 

(a burst of sunlight would spill into every room that he walks into and you wouldn’t mind coming close to him even if it will end up burning your wings.)

but sometimes you see him in the reflection of the river as it runs along the rocks and you’ll think of how spring would be so nice if he’s beside you watching the flowers bloom. you see him in the wind that caresses your hair as you walk through the field and you’ll remember how he used to embrace you during winter, stealing all of the warmth that is left of your body as he intertwined his cold hands into your own—you’ll push him away, only lightly, as he holds you closer and snuggles his face into your neck but you never want him to leave; you could never bear the thought of watching his back as he walks away from you.

you see him everywhere, in the morning that you wake up to, the noon that you drag yourself through, and the night that you sleep into. you wouldn’t know what to do if his light would die out, leaving you in the frigid darkness without his presence. you wouldn’t know what to do if his eyes would stop holding your fingers with the neediness of a child who has never known death and cruelty.

“don’t go where i can’t follow.” you’ll let him bring you anywhere—even if it's far from the familiarity of your home, far from the people you love, far from the places you’ve known, as long as he stays with you. you’ll walk with him into the danger and through hell, you’ll accompany him in the rain and the wind, but you will not let him go where you can’t follow. you will never cross the line if it means you’re leaving him behind; you’ll rather let the abyss swallow you just so you could be with him.

“never leave me behind.” you’ll whisper to nothingness.

the simplicity and your adoration for him was the finest feature that composes the puzzle of your soul. there wasn’t a single thing that he’ll do to make you hate him, there was nothing he can do to make you despise him. and perhaps, it may become destructive and pathetic but you’ll do anything for him and he doesn’t have to use the word ‘please’, nor would he have to beg for anything from you; he asked you to call him handsome and you compared him to the stars—and the stars and their glory was never enough in comparison to his shadow.

(you’ll taste his flesh with only gentle hands and soft mouth even if you’ll still be left starving and desiring for more—to say you love him was never enough.)

you like him too much, the affection would spill from your hands and you’ll pick them up with your teeth.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

notice how there's no dialogue from aventurine in reader's pov? yeah.

[opennwindows]

If you can, could I request BEN Drowned fluff / smut headcanons like about himself, with his headcanon age, hobbies, facts, what he is into or would like & want in a relationship, and what he would be like with a gamer girlfriend/ s/o?

If ya taking requests rn still?✨😇😊💖

Ben Drowned general + NSFW hcs

A/N: yes!! absolutely. i love getting to talk about how the pastas do their pastaing in my mind. i have so many headcanons for everyone that im excited to share!! also sorry i forgot to include the gamer gf part but i don't think it would change a lot of what i wrote!!

btw sorry for fucking dying i have been busy 😭😭 but no one worry i will still continue to work on requests!! if anyone has any marble hornets stuff they wanna request i will zoom you to the front of the queue so fucking quick. anyways enough of me yapping.

cw: 18+ nsfw, toxic relationships, crying kink,

GENERAL

ben is mentally and physically 22, but he can be quite emotionally immature at times. when he died he never stopped growing and maturing, his soul was just stuck in limbo. think like the worst waiting room ever.

he's surprisingly tall, standing at about 5'9. he's lanky but not bone thin. could easily get pretty far in a fight without his ghost powers.

the link costume only appears when he’s in his ghost form. so for example, when he’s messing with someone on their computer he’ll appear as the canon BEN we’re most familiar with. when he’s just chilling in his physical body, he mostly wears beat up hoodies and sweatpants.

contrary to popular belief, ben's not the hardcore gamer everyone thinks he is. sure, he'll play some overwatch or whatever when he's bored but he honestly just prefers to watch tv and browse the internet. understandably REFUSES to play any zelda games. if you were trapped in a video game for decades would you ever wanna touch it again? exactly.

ben loves to draw little comics and troll (see: horrifically traumatize) people online. god forbid you get into twitter beef with this man because he will crawl through your monitor at 3am and leave you with a crippling fear of technology. dude thinks it's absolutely hilarious. a true knee slapper.

lowkey has a sugar addiction. will slam down 4 cans of pepsi in one sitting. he's very lucky that he's basically a ghost because the kidney stones would be plentiful.

ROMANTIC

you know that guy with the blown out speakers in his car, lives off of energy drinks and burnt blue razz ice elfbars, swears aphex twin is the modern mozart and works on the grill at your local wendy’s? yeah thats ben. or at least would be him if he was still human.

“why would you need a chair, my lap is literally right here babe.”

would absolutely wear your skin if given the opportunity. not in a weird way. he’s just EXTREMELY touchy.

he needs someone who is significantly more organized and motivated than him. he can go almost a week without showering and it should honestly be considered biological warfare when he tries to smother you with affection during these episodes.

after awhile of you guys dating he LOVES the idea of y’all showering together. he has a fear of water and while showers aren’t too much of a trigger, your presence helps ease his anxiety.

favorite pet names: bro, dude, dawg, babe, bitch (non derogatory)

not really a romantic but he tries his best. a perfect date for him is just getting some takeout, watching youtube, talking about stupid shit and play fighting. if you want something more traditional or extravagant then he’ll oblige to make you happy but those types of dates make him feel quite suffocated and nervous. try to save those for special occasions.

now let’s talk about his problems because just like the other creeps he is ANGSTY.

he’s probably the most emotionally stable and healthiest of the group but he definitely still has his toxic traits, after all this man is a ghost that mentally tortures and kills his victims through manipulation.

ben would never ever get physical with his partner no matter how enraged he is but he absolutely is the type to do some mental damage when he gets carried away. ben drowned? more like ben gaslighted.

the type to say some shit that would keep you up for years and then kiss you the next morning like the argument never happened. he finds it easier to ignore problems than to actively talk and fix them. you’re gonna have to teach him some important communication skills or else you’ll grow to resent him after all the bottled up rage.

a bit too brutally honest and blunt for his own good so if you have thin skin the relationship would fall apart pretty quickly. he wants someone who can drag him twice as hard as he dragged you. bonus points if your insults are consistently funny as hell.

please watch anime with him and discuss it. he would propose on the spot, especially if you play with his hair.

pro player tip: if you want him to clean his disgusting room, help him and make it fun! he just needs a little push and motivation at times. and being around you makes him want to get his shit together.

big fan of late night make-out sessions. i’m talking like 45 minutes straight of just slobbering on each other’s faces with tongues down throats. if you don’t want his hands running over every inch of your body then you’ll probably have to chain him to the wall.

NSFW

okay. so he’s a little inexperienced with his hands. he’s just a slow learner. be vocal with him about what you like!!

ben's about 7inches and slightly skinnier than average but he will have you seeing stars in record time. the dick game is no joke. he tends to go fast and deep most times.

i can see him being a switch in the idgaf-as-long-as-i’m-fucking way. dude will go with the flow and will try mostly anything.

definitely one of the least aggressive pastas during sex. he has sadistic tendencies but he’s more of a edge/overstimulate you until you cry versus a beat the shit out of you and rip hair out of your scalp type. he’s pretty vanilla given his occupation.

despite his love of roasting the fuck out of you on a daily basis, the only words that come out of this man’s mouth is heavenly praise. he looks at you like you’re the most gorgeous being on the planet and he’ll let you know it.

he loves to whisper praises into your ear while you ride him.

he's more of a receiver than a giver when it comes to oral. he'll absolutely spend hours between your legs if given the chance but nothing beats the sight of you on your knees and teary eyed with his length in your mouth.

he can be a bit of a head pusher but just let him face-fuck you every now and then, hearing his loud moans will be worth it.

did i mention how much of a crying kink this man has? you guys could be on round three and if he stares at your teary eyed fucked-out face for longer than 10 seconds he'll immediately get hard again. you'll have to beg him to give your poor body a break.

he's also into choking but only if he's the one doing it. if you try to restrict his breathing he'll panic and the mood would get ruined.

[metis-iphigenia]

DAMIAN WAYNE SCHOOL HEADCANONS because school opened like 2-3 weeks ago and i need to cope

•since he is 15 years old, he is in 10th grade(not letting dc pull a tim drake and make him the same age forever)

•he used to love chemistry in the 9th grade because the first subject was alchemy if i remember correctly(dc can pry the "al ghuls are alchemists" hc(canon) from my cold dead hands)

but he lost interest in chemistry quickly after the subject passed.

•his all time favourite classes are math and art. im just sure damian's type of person that doesnt separate math and art from eachother

•why art is his favourite is a given but his favourite is math because math is a class based on problem solving(and also because he can do math easily)

but yeah ik his classmates are very very annoyed whenever he says "math is easy"

•I imagine him arguing with his english teacher the most for some reason. there is no reason other than damian is a very educated kid about the english literature(literature in general) so either he doesnt care or he correct his teacher on literally everything.

•i feel like he would either do a very detail research about the book he read and write a very long essay, or make a very short one and not enough detailed. no in between(because he misunderstood his teachers when they said to "keep it short")

•he begged his father to let him take an exam that lets him skil grades based on his level but his father refused so now he takes advanced math etc.

•him and duke see eachother in the morning regularly(insomniac duke, and damian who wakes up at 5.30 is real) and they sit down to talk about random shit till 7 am mostly(duke explained him the fnaf lore and damian talked about creepypastas real)

•he texts with maps both on their way to their separate schools and make plans to meetup after school to just hang out

•damian usually reads or draws in most of the classes since he already knows everything they are teaching but when asked a question, he does yap a lot(dc should bring back yapper damian ngl)

•bathroom breakdowns were very real for 9th grade damian(literally canon event for everyone with social anxiety or people who get overstimulated at school)

•still bullied just doesnt care about it and insults them/messes with them back to get back at the bullies(it stops after him also messing with them)

•he loves playing football and volleyball but not with his teammates(ik hes #3 frat boy hater i just feel it) so he only gets along with 2 of his teammates. i imagine their personality as scott and stiles from teen wolf so yeah

•has one(1) friend and two(2) teammates he doesnt hate in total(girlfailure and girlsuccess damian youre real to me🙌😼)

also he got multiple friends outside of school anyways lmao bro is anything BUT anti-social(to me hes also the type to join his schools projects etc or debate teams)

•he always calls his mother when he makes it to school and whenever hes leaving it because talia worries and he wants ease her worries(ultimate mother daughter duo)

•after school he has a yap session with nika and they talk about everything that happened to them that day(yapper4yapper gravebird my beloved)

•him and stephanie rant about school daily and talk about how much they hate it(but they both wont drop out since steph wants that med school degree and damian also wants it in the future(med student sisterisms real))

•jon may be going to a journalism school(i think??) but hes still a science nerd so their study sessions always turns into an argument about an equation or a science problem

>>> so i think thats it!! please tell me your headcanons too and help me cope with school also because i love reading about hcs(esp thosr about damian) <<<<

[azriels-shadowsinger]

Confessions (Azriel x Reader) - Part Two

wc: 3.7k

warnings: smut! minors dni!

a/n: thank you so much for all the love on part 1!! hope yall enjoy!

Read Part One

Once you are alone again, you immediately go in search of Azriel. Maybe you’re imagining it, but you swear your lips are still tingling from where he kissed you. You don’t even know what you would say to him after royally fucking up that entire conversation, but you have to try. His usual spots were no luck, as were his room and basically the rest of the House of Wind.

He’s gone. Fuck.

The next best option to to go find Mor and hopefully sort through some of the thoughts racing inside your head. You find her in her room, lounging on her bed reading. She gives you that same worried and apologetic look from earlier, but you stop her before she can apologize again.

“Don’t say anything. It's fine, I’m fine. But we need to talk, like right now.” You say anxiously and sit on her bed with her. After you repeat to her everything that Azriel had said, Mor is beaming from ear to ear.

“He really said that? Holy gods, y/n! What did he say when you told him you felt the same way?” Her eyes are wide with excitement.

“Well…. I didn’t. Feyre interrupted to check on me, and then he left before I could tell him anything. And now he’s nowhere to be found.” You sigh and try to hide the disappointment on your face.

“Oh y/n. I’m sorry.” She says softly and wraps an arm around you. “He just left? He didn’t even give you a chance to say how you feel?” She questions.

“Not exactly…” you draw back, embarrassed. “He was basically begging me to tell him I felt the same, but I completely froze and didn’t say anything.” I murmur and look at my hands, ashamed.

“Y/n!” Mor yells.

“I know, I know! I’m a gods damn idiot! This is what I have wanted for literally centuries, but once I finally get a chance… I completely fuck it up!” You flop back onto her bed in defeat, running your hands over your face. “I don’t know what happened! He kissed me, and I just froze! What is wrong with me?” You groan. Mor rubs a soothing hand on your arm.

“It will be okay. You said he wasn’t anywhere in the House of Wind, so he probably found some mission that sent him away for a few days, just like he always does when he is avoiding his problems.” She reassures. You nod in agreement. “In the meantime, you need to figure out what the hell you are even gonna say to him, because you really can’t fuck it up again." She chuckles, and you throw a pillow at her.

“Not helpful, Mor!” You laugh.

———

Days pass, and there is no word from Azriel. Rhys said he should be back by the end of the week and even used his daemati powers to request that he return earlier, but Azriel refused.

You try not to let his absence and your lingering anxiety about the situation bother you too much. On the outside, you go about your day as normal, but internally, you feel like a complete gods damn mess.

———

The weekend arrives, and you anxiously await any news that Azriel is back. You don’t even bother trying to be subtle, checking the hallway between your rooms every time you hear the slightest noise.

Soon it is well after midnight, and you begin to accept that he isn’t coming home any time soon. You wander down to the kitchens in search of something overly sweet to ease your sorrows. Several chocolate chunk cookies later, courtesy of Elain, you still don’t feel much better. You stare out the kitchen window while you eat, lost in thought of what to do now.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see something move. You turn around to look, but no one is there. You were about to call it a night and go back to your room when you see the shadows in the corner moving ever so slightly. Your breath catches in your throat and you stare at the wisps of darkness. Could it be?

Two small shadows dart out of the corner toward you. Having been caught, they move closer and swirl around your legs eagerly.

The cool sensation makes you giggle, and you look down at them, ignoring the ache in your chest that it wasn’t him. But he must be here somewhere if his shadows are back. You rush up to your room, shadows trailing behind you. Just as you turn onto your hallway, you see Azriel standing outside his door. He stops and stares at you for a moment, a pained look in his eyes. Before you can say anything, he quickly slips into his room and shuts the door.

Okay, ouch. You get that he might not want to talk, but he could at least be civil. The two shadows at your side linger for a moment before slipping under his door as well. Once again, you are alone.

———

Morning comes after a very poor night’s sleep. You wait until the sun peaks above the horizon before stepping into the hall and sitting on the floor against the wall, waiting for Azriel. Half an hour passes, and he still hasn’t emerged from his room. That’s unusual, he’s usually up to train by now. You knock on his door, but the other side is silent. He must already be gone.

You make your way to the training ring, and thankfully you found him there. Azriel and Cassian were sparring hand-to-hand in the ring, and it was apparently a very intense match since they were both glistening with sweat. Azriel faces away from you, so you can only see his shirtless back, but holy gods his back. You can’t help but stare as his broad shoulders move and his muscles ripple. Cassian finally notices you after several minutes and smirks at you, stopping the match. Azriel looks behind himself in confusion, but his expression immediately changes to panic when he sees you.

Well, it’s now or never. He will just keep evading you if you don’t talk to him now. You walk over to the training ring.

“Good morning, boys. Cass, do you mind if I step in and practice my sparring with Azriel? I’m a bit rusty and could use his help.” You ask sweetly, giving him a very obvious glare that says to leave. You’re not sure what all Azriel has told him, but he catches the hint immediately.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I have to, uh… go find Nesta.” He hurries off, leaving you alone with Azriel.

Azriel takes a step, like he wants to leave too, but you step in front of him.

“What do you want, y/n?” His prominent dark circles and sad eyes make your chest ache.

“I told you, I want to practice sparring. Just like we used to.” You give a hopeful smile and pull your hair up. He sighs in defeat and steps back into the ring with you. His shadows inch forward like they want to approach you, but ultimately stay by his side.

“Fine. But I don’t want to talk.” He mumbles. You nod and get into your fighting stance. He seems very apprehensive to attack first, so you make the first move. After a few minutes, the two of you get into the groove of it, moving so naturally with one another.

“You. Don’t have. To talk.” You say breathlessly between attempted punches. “But I’m gonna.” He obviously doesn’t like that, so he starts fighting back harder in an attempt to keep you from talking. You smirk at his increase in effort, dodging his punches. “Nice try. You forget who trained me.” The side of his mouth upticks ever so slightly.

“You’re right. That means I know all your moves.” He says smugly and avoids your attack. You try not to let his voice distract you, but damn, it’s so nice to finally hear him talk somewhat normally to you after so long.

“Last week, I didn’t-“ He swings at you, causing your words to cut off. You step aside and try again. "As I was saying-“ Another swing. You give him an annoyed glare and he just shrugs. “Azriel, will you please just let me ta-“ You dodge another attack. This is ridiculous, and it ends now. Quicker than he can react, you move behind him and knock his feet out from under him with one swift kick, immediately moving to pin his arms down and straddle his waist. Azriel half-heartedly fights back for a moment before giving up.

“Fine. You win. Can you let me go?” He avoids your gaze. You tighten your grip on his wrists. Azriel’s shadows wrap themselves around your legs, and you savor the familiar feeling of their chill.

“No. You’re gonna let me talk.” You and Azriel both know he could get out of your hold in a matter of seconds, but the fact that he doesn’t means he must be willing to hear you out. You take a deep breath and focus your spiraling thoughts. Azriel gives a silent nod, still looking anywhere but your eyes.

“Look, I messed up last week. I was still kinda freaked out about what happened with Mikael.” Azriel flinches at the name, his expression turning murderous.

“Fucking piece of shit got what he deserved.” Azriel mutters under his breath. You try not to think too hard about what that means, but the blood on his clothes last week makes it pretty clear what happened.

“Anyway, I was still freaked out, and then you were asking me to tell you if I meant what I said that night, and I just got embarrassed and panicked.” You take a deep breath. This is it. “I’ve spent centuries trying to hide my feelings from you. I even tried dating other males, but ultimately each relationship ended because I put you before them. And when you started spending more time with Elain, I got jealous and decided that I had to try and move on for real. So when you asked me to tell you how I felt, I just couldn’t handle the heartache. And then you kissed me, and every single thought left my brain. I heard you tell me how you felt, I heard you ask me to tell you I felt the same, but I couldn’t form the words Az.” He finally looks up at you, his eyes wide and hopeful. “And you left before I could get my shit together and tell you. So let me say it now. I have loved you, as more than my best friend, for longer than I can remember Az. I’m sorry I couldn’t figure out how to say that last week.” He looks surprised. "It's always been you.” You repeat the words he told you last week.

A moment passes. Then two. And then his hands are free from your grip, pulling you close to him and kissing you deeply. You don’t hesitate this time, kissing him back with just as much passion. Azriel’s hips lift slightly, making you suddenly very aware of your current position. You hesitantly move yourself to go from straddling his waist to straddling his hips, unsure of what exactly he wants to happen. He freezes for a moment, causing you to overthink and pull away slightly, but before you can pull back completely, Azriel’s hands grip your hips and pull them closer to his. He groans softly into your mouth, letting one hand move from your hip to the nape of your neck, pulling you closer.

One second, you are on top of him kissing, and the next he is flipping you onto your back, holding himself up with one hand next to your head while the other caresses your waist. His mouth begins to trail down your neck and onto the column of your throat, giving you rough kisses along the way. A small whimper leaves you, which only seems to encourage him more.

From across the training ring, you hear voices approaching. Shit, you both completely forgot where you are and how public this is. Azriel pulls away and quickly stands, reaching out a hand towards you to help you up. You wonder if the interruption will be the end of this heated moment between the two of you, but Azriel pulls you by the waist close to him.

“Your room or mine?” He asks with a strained voice. The voices get closer, and before you can answer, Azriel lifts you up with your legs around his waist and winnows you to his room.

———

Once you arrive inside Azriel’s room, he gently sets you on his bed and takes a step back, staring at you. You can’t tell what his expression says, but you suddenly feel very shy under his intense stare.

“Uh, you okay?” You ask hesitantly. He gives you a grin and nods.

“I’m great. More than great. I’m just taking a second to admire this moment because I’ve spent the pst week feeling like Prythian’s biggest idiot for confessing my feelings to you when you didn’t feel the same way.” He stalks closer to you, his grin transforming into a lustful smirk. “But now that I know you feel the same way…” he towers over you, gently pushing you back onto the bed as he moves above you. “I am going to savor this. Every. Single. Second.” He kisses up your neck between his last few words.

“Oh… uh, okay.” You blush hard as the words come out in a whisper and every thought leaves your brain. Well, every thought except for Azriel. His hands tangle into your hair as he kisses you, but unlike before, this kiss isn’t overly eager and desperate. It’s purposeful and passionate, but the hunger from before still lingers between the two of you. Azriel’s hands slowly slide up your waist, under your shirt. His fingers play with the hem for a moment.

“Is this okay?” He whispers in your ear and softly bites your earlobe. You nod in response, but he pulls back and puts a hand on your cheek. “I need to hear you say it. You need to tell me exactly how far you want to go. I don’t want to do something you aren’t comfortable with.”

“Az. Please, I need you. All of you.” You plead.

“Thank the gods.” He wastes no time slipping his hands under your shirt and bra. His fingers graze over your nipples softly, causing you to whimper quietly. Azriel pulls your shirt off and quickly unclasps your bra, throwing it across his room. His eyes darken as he stares at you. You instinctively try to cover yourself, but he immediately pins both of your wrists above your head with one of his hands. “Don’t you dare hide from me, sweetheart. You are fucking gorgeous.” His words come out low and gravelly, causing you to blush a deep shade of pink.

Azriel lowers his mouth to one nipple and sucks, biting gently, while he rolls the other one between his fingers. The sensation makes you let out a low moan. He switches, making sure to give both equal attention before moving lower.

“Can I trust you to keep your hands up there?” He asks gruffly.

“And if I don’t?” You challenge with a smirk. Azriel gives a low chuckle. You feel the familiar chill of his shadows moving up your arms and around your wrists, restraining you. Two more shadows start playing with your nipples and the cold feeling makes you arch your back.

“I always wondered how you would be in bed.” He lowers himself toward your stomach. “But it seems like you like to be a brat.” His eyes gleam with excitement. “And if this wasn’t the first time that I get to worship your body, believe me, I would fuck the brattiness right out of you.” His fingers play with the hem of your pants as he kisses down your navel. “But I’m gonna let that attitude slide just this once.” His filthy words send a rush of heat to your core.

His hot breath dances over your skin and he slowly drags down your pants and panties all at once. Azriel stares at your pussy with complete adoration in his eyes.

“You are so fucking stunning, sweetheart.” He groans and teases a finger around your entrance. “And so fucking wet. Gods y/n, you might have the prettiest pussy I have ever seen.” His fingers trail up to your clit and he circles it softly. Moans spill from your lips freely now as you buck your hips towards him. “Patience. I’m just getting started.” He smirks and spreads your legs wide, before lowering his mouth to your core.

Azriel switches between kitten licks to your clit and teasing your hole with his tongue. Your moans get louder as you become more desperate.

“More. Fuck, Az, more please.” You beg. He pushes one of his long fingers into your pussy and curls it, making you cry out.

“You like that, sweetheart?” He asks with a smug smirk, as if he doesn’t know the damn answer. His shadows continue to tease your nipples, while one trails down to circle your clit while Azriel fucks you with his fingers. You had never felt pleasure this good, this intense. Azriel returns to sucking your clit, occasionally grazing his teeth across it, causing you to throw your head back and moan loudly. The familiar feeling of pleasure builds in your core. As if he can tell you are close, he speeds up his fingers. “That’s it, y/n. Come for me.”

“Fuck Azriel!” You yell and clench around his fingers while grinding on his face. Your orgasm rips through you like an explosion. Azriel draws the feeling out longer with his fingers continuously moving inside you—slower now. “Az, please. I want you inside me. Now.” You whine. He looks up at you with a shit-eating grin, his chin wet with your arousal.

“I have waited a long fucking time to finally taste you, so I will stop once I get my fill.” He puts his tongues back on your clit and gives it a soft lick, causing your hips to buck at the intensified feeling. “Give me one more like this, sweetheart. I need you to cum on my face one more time before I’ll be satisfied.” He buries his face between your legs, eating you out like a male starved. This might be the hottest thing you have ever experienced. No male has ever been so eager to eat you out, especially not this well, and definitely never twice in a row.

It doesn’t take long for Azriel to bring you to the edge again. His fingers thrust inside your soaked cunt as he sucks your clit.

“Cum for me, sweetheart.” Right as your release bursts inside you, Azriel moves his face back up to your mouth, keeping his fingers in your pussy and on your clit to coax you through the orgasm. His shadows release your hands, and you grab onto his shoulders as he swallows your moans with his kiss. You eventually come down from your high and take a steadying breath.

Azriel grins down at you like a kid on Winter Solstice who got every present he wanted. “You are breathtaking, y/n.” He kisses you again and moves his hips above yours. “Are you sure, sweetheart?” His gentle tone fills you with warmth.

“Please, Azriel. Please fuck me.” He groans at your words and lines his tip up with your entrance.

“Let me know if you need me to stop, okay?” You nod. He slowly pushes himself into you, one inch at a time. Fuck, you knew he was big, but this is something else. “Are you okay?” He asks. You nod and lift your hips to meet his, encouraging him to keep going. Azriel pushes himself entirely into you and gives a low moan.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so fucking good.” He starts to slowly move in and out, gradually picking up his pace until he is pounding into you, his eyes screwed shut in pleasure. “This pussy was fucking made for me.” He moans and drops his forehead onto yours. You feel your pleasure building again as his hand reaches down to rub your clit.

“I’m close, Az.” You moan into his shoulder. This causes him to slow down slightly, opting for agonizingly slow and deep thrusts.

“Not yet, y/n. I need to feel you more.”

Thrust

“I have wanted this for so long.”

Thrust

“So fucking long.”

Thrust

“And now you’re mine.”

Thrust

His eyes pour into yours intensely.

“I have loved you since I first met you, y/n.” He says in an intimately hushed tone.

“I love you too, Az. I have for so long.” Your words pull a moan from him, and he picks his pace back up, pounding his cock into you. His fingers return to your clit and he rubs circles, drawing out high-pitched moans from you.

“Cum for me, y/n. Fuck, please. Come on my cock, sweetheart.” It comes out more like a beg than a command. Your third orgasm causes you to clench around him and drag your nails down his back, probably leaving marks. A few more thrusts, and Azriel is spilling inside you, your name falling from his lips over and over.

You both lay there for a while, savoring the moment. After a minute, Azriel slowly pulls out of you, making you hiss from how sensitive your walls are. He heads to the bathroom and returns quickly with a wet cloth to clean you up. Once clean, he gets back into the bed and pulls you close to him. The two of you cuddle in silence for a while before he speaks up.

“I’m still convinced this is a dream.” He whispers in amazement while running his fingers through your hair.

“I’ll admit I’ve had similar dreams before.” You giggle. He turns you around to face him and raises an eyebrow.

“You’ve had wet dreams about me?” You blush hard and nod. “Fuck, that’s hot.” You giggle and bury your face in his chest as he pulls you closer.

“This isn’t a dream, Az. It’s real, and I really do love you.” You reassure him. You will tell him that a million times if that’s what it takes.

“I love you, y/n. So fucking much.” He hugs you tighter. The two of you doze off into a blissfully content sleep.

omg okay i hope yall liked this!! also btw i have never published smut ever before so i apologize if it sucked lol.

i’m having a lot of fun getting back into writing fics so please send me requests if you have any bc i suck at coming up with ideas.

[feelingsshmeelings]

Recently watched inside out 2 and I'm not even gonna lie, I left that theater with tears in my eyes and the FATTEST crush on Anxiety. I can't help it okay I love me some crinkly girl failure creature 😔

Anxiety x Reader: relationship headcanons

INCLUDES: GN! Reader, Fellow Emotion! Reader, fluff, some down bad behavior on Anxiety's part, very light angst, she/they pronouns for Anxiety

📋 It probably takes a while for her to settle into the relationship. Not to say that she dislikes being with you (of course not!!), but she's anxious. Like that's literally their whole thing. They have a hard time believing that you're actually... yknow, WITH THEM. Like, WILLINGLY.

📋 Eventually though, once you've given her plenty of reassurance, she'll start easing into the relationship

📋 Literally such a planner!! You can bet they've got a whole notebook dedicated to your relationship. Possible date ideas, things you like, things you dislike, important couple milestones to look forward to, etc. She's managing both of your calenders while ALSO crafting a detailed step-by-step plan of the next few years of your future together

📋 Anxiety is definitely the type to ramble— not just about they're job of looking after Riley but also about pretty much everything else. This one's a yapper, what can I say

📋 It's probably an insecurity of hers (she fears sometimes that her constant chatting may come off as annoying), but if you take the time to actually listen to what she has to say? Ask questions?? Offer your own insight???

📋 One word: marriage

📋 It's pretty much canon that she's prone to nervous breakdowns and insomnia. You should like... help her with that 👀. Guide her towards her massage chair when she needs it (or even better: offer a massage yourself). Cuddle with them in their bed, or yours. Talk them through their thoughts. Whatever works for the both of you

📋 I see Anxiety as being on the spectrum (ngl I feel like most of the emotions got that tism in them). That being said, physical touch is... well, they're not ADVERSE to it exactly, but it's probably not something they partake in often. Like it's not something she'll initiate, if that makes sense?? She's just very conscious of everyone else's personal space and would hate to overstep any boundaries

📋 THAT BEING SAID... Please hold her hand every now and then. Maybe just slide your hand into theirs while the two of you are standing side-by-side at the control panel, or give hers a small squeeze whenever she starts spiraling. She finds it grounding

📋 (they're bright red the whole time, constantly asking if you're really okay with it or if her palms are clammy or if your comfortable in the position or if—)

📋 PETNAMESSS!!!! Her go-to for you is "sweetie", or "love" if they're feeling particularly bold

📋 Will literally melt into a puddle at whatever nickname you choose to give them tho. Like you could give them the cheesiest petname on the planet and they'd still go all squiggly mouthed and flapping their hands

📋 Likes to take initiative in most things, INCLUDING your relationship, so don't be surprised if she's the one taking charge while putting together dates or while you two are at work in Riley's mind. Sometimes they can be a bit overbearing, but just have a sit down with her, let her know how you feel, and she'll gladly step down and let you get shit done

📋 COM👏MU👏NI👏CA👏TION!! VERY IMPORTANT TO HER!!!! Like I said before, they overthink a lot, so it definitely helps if you're honest and open about how you feel

📋 Working inside the mind of a teenage girl can be pretty stressful, so being able to wind down with you at the end of the day is definitely something Anxiety looks forward to

📋 Being able to ramble with you and get their thoughts off their chest is something they love, yes, but they also enjoy the moments of quiet you two share. You could be sitting at the same table, maybe you're reading a book or drawing, meanwhile she's jotting down a new workout regimen for the upcoming hockey season. Or maybe you're having a shared cup of cocoa while admiring the view from headquarters. Or maybe you're playing with their hair while they lay their head on your lap...

📋 She enjoys being able to simply exist with you. No thoughts about the future, no worries about what's yet to come. Just you and them in your own peaceful little bubble 🧡

I LOVE HER SO MUCH YOU DONT EVEN KNOW AJSJSKAKAKA!! Definitely planning on writing more for her soon! The other emotions too (feel free to send in an ask guysss I want ideas so bad 👀👉👈)

[maknaeswrld]

a life eluded | l.mh, h.js

wc: 6.5k

genre: soulmate au; reincarnation au; fluff; angst; poly!minsung x reader

cw: pov hopping; anxiety/panic attack mentions; food/eating mentions; Bee (I still feel like they need a warning); all soulmates are gn (they/them pronouns) for sake of future storytelling; past life memories in italics; please please let me know if I missed anything🫶

if you’re new here, start from the beginning: a life forgotten

Soulmates can be a painful thing. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to stop yourself from running away. 

Riley had left you with a hug, two phone numbers hastily written on a paper towel, and a promise to meet up soon. You and Lia counted off ten minutes before leaving as well, hopefully giving you enough time for Riley and any possible companions to be long gone.

You thought the idea of reaching out to them would scare you, but the more you looked at the numbers, the more you wanted to talk to them. You assumed Bee was the one that had yelled at your soulmates, drawing their attention off you long enough to make a break for it. 

They’ve been looking for you for a long time.

Riley’s words found themselves on repeat in your head, not letting up even slightly. How could they have been looking for you if they’d never met you? They couldn’t possibly have known you. But they still noticed your absence. Enough that it weighed on them, caused them to seek you out even without knowing who you were.

They’ve been searching for their ‘missing piece’ about as long as I’ve known them.

Their missing piece. Not a burden, not a hitch in all of their plans, not some unforeseen unfortunate circumstance. You were included in their future long before you even knew of your past, they’d been attempting to seek you out for far longer than you’ve been avoiding ever finding them. In their minds you were the final piece of an extensive puzzle. Their final piece.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you were typing both numbers into your phone and creating a group chat. 

Y/n: you didn’t tell me which number belonged to who so i just made a gc, I hope that’s alright.

Unknown Number: Who are you and how’d you get these numbers?

Unknown Number: shut up Bee, I already warned you about this. sorry Y/n, I was rushing a bit, this is Riley and the other number is Bee’s :)

Bee (Changbin’s soulmate): WAIT!!! YOU’RE MINSUNGS THIRD?! THE ONE THAT RAN AWAY EARLIER?!

Riley (Bang Chan’s soulmate): Bee istg

Y/n: uhhhh yeah, I suppose that’s me

Bee (Changbin’s soulmate): I would’ve run away too, those idiots are so loud

Riley (Bang Chan’s soulmate): you are actually not allowed to talk, I think the only person in existence that can rival Bin’s loud ass is you. the both of you together are my eternal migraine

Bee (Changbin’s soulmate): SHUT UP WE AREN’T THAT BAD

You couldn’t help the laugh that wells up in you at their banter, after that you fall into an easy rhythm talking with them. They understand you in a way you’re not sure any of your friends ever have. 

It didn’t take even two days messaging back and forth for the three of you to make plans to meet for coffee, Bee going on about how unfair it is that you met Riley already. You thought you’d be nervous, you spent the whole morning getting ready waiting for the nerves to hit. These were the soulmates of not just two international idols, but close friends to your soulmates who were in the same group. Everything about the situation should be sending you into a spiral of anxious thoughts, but instead you felt more at ease than you do going to dinner with Lia. 

“You look hot, where are you off to?” Your neighbor asked as you were locking the door.

“Coffee with some friends.” It felt too natural, the way friends rolled off your tongue. You hadn’t even met Bee yet.

“Be safe babes.” Your neighbor smiled, entering her own apartment. You weren’t close with your neighbor, but you always looked out for one another. Living alone wasn’t always safe, so having someone who would notice your absence was always a comfort thing for you.

The coffee shop decided on was a twenty minute walk from your apartment, you spent the whole time thinking over everything. When you had found out about your soulmates, one of your biggest concerns was the fact that there were others like you, soulmates of idols who knew who they were supposed to be with and couldn’t get to them. Or worse, that there were friends of yours, people who were the soulmates of the people you knew you had some cosmic bond with, people important to you that you’d never get the chance to remember. 

Due to Stray Kids popularity, you got to have your memories with your soulmates members, the memories of how close you were to each of them as well in every lifetime, but knowing they had soulmates, that you likely were very close to their soulmates, that you couldn’t remember them, devastated you.

And now you were meeting two of them for coffee. The memories with Riley had already started to slowly trickle in after the short time you spent with them in the bathroom, you knew more would start engraving within your deepest memories after more time spent together. The two of you were close in every lifetime, it gave you hope that everything would work out in this one as well.

“Y/n!! Run!!’” Riley laughed, hand holding tightly on yours as the two of you sprinted away from the lady chasing the two of you with a broom. 

“Get out of here, street rats!” The lady called after you. 

After several twists and turns to make certain you were securely away from any possible danger, you both sat against a wall to catch your breath. You started giggling, causing Riley to look at you as if you’d grown two heads. 

“What are you-?” Riley trailed off as you produced two small pieces of bread you’d managed to snake while Riley distracted the mean lady. Riley’s eyes lit up before laughter filled the space coming from the both of you.

You each enjoyed your pieces of bread, savoring the taste and the feeling of something on your stomachs, just sitting in comfortable silence with one another. 

You’d shared your whole lives running the streets, keeping each other alive and moving, and you always thought it’d just be the two of you, until Riley found Chan and your lives got thrown upside down.

You stared at the sign of the tiny rustic looking cafe. It was the type of place you’d go to every day if you knew it existed. Now that you did, you couldn’t imagine not regularly spending time there. You knew deep down, if all went well today, you’d be spending a lot of time there with Bee and Riley.

A bell jingled above the door as you pushed it open.The whole place radiated comfort and you felt at ease instantly.

“Welcome in, I’ll be right with you!” A cheery voice called from what you assumed to be the kitchen.

“Y/n! We’re over here.” You found a table in a small nook surrounded by books where Riley and Bee were sitting, drinks already ordered. “We didn’t know what you might like and Sage already knows our usuals, but we were waiting for you to get food.”

Before you could take one of the open seats between the two, a short person with a bright smile, freckles, and long hair brushed to a shine seemed to dance toward you, hands wiping at their apron, they reached one out for you to shake. 

“I’m Sage, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Their grip was firm despite the dainty tinkle of their voice.

“Y/n.” You smiled in return.

“What can I get ya, Y/n?” 

You order your drink, you, Riley, and Bee also putting in your orders for food, and just as fast as Sage had appeared, they’d disappeared back into the kitchen. Taking your seat at the little table, you took a deep breath before looking up, only to find Bee and Riley already staring at you.

“So like, when are you gonna finally meet your boys? OW! Fuck Riles, what was that for?!”

Riley pinned Bee with a pointed glare. 

“Are you avoiding your soulmates?” Sage asks, gently placing your cup in front of you and taking the last seat at the table.

You turn beat red at the accusation. “Not exactly.” You mumble.

“Totally is. They found each other young so they’ve had five years together already and now this one seems to think they’re going to ruin everything, even though Min and Ji already know about them and have been looking for them.” Bee stated, sipping out of their own cup. “OW! Fuck, why are you guys always attacking me!?” This time, Bee glared at Sage instead of Riley.

“Because you make yourself an easy target. Listen, Y/n, if there’s one thing I’ve learned while owning this shop and spending way too much time people watching, it’s that no matter how hard you try to fight it, you’re meant to be with who you’re meant to be with. That's just the reality. If you were going to ruin their lives just by them finding you, you wouldn’t be their soulmate. Simple as that. Min and Ji have been in here a few times with Chris and Bin, they’re good ones, I guarantee you could never regret letting them in.”

“Your parents made a good choice with your name.” 

Sage grinned, gently lifting one shoulder in a shrug. “It’s a fun name to live up to.”

With that, Sage disappeared into the kitchen once again. 

“They’re right though. I don’t think you could ever regret letting them in.” Riley smiled, reaching over to squeeze your hand.

“Sage doesn’t know the boys are idols, do they?”

The way they called all of them by names Riley or Bee would refer to them as instead of any full name or stage name struck you as odd. Either they didn’t know or they were the bands inner circle, that thought making a strange sense of insecurity rise up your throat.

“Nah, Sage doesn’t really do technology and only really listens to the radio their grandfather had is his restaurant. They know next to nothing about the idol world, which is why the boys like coming here so much, it’s peaceful and off the beaten path.”

You nodded, sipping your drink. You could understand that, especially with the boys being idols with soulmates, a quiet coffee shop with next to no attention on it is the perfect place to be able to have uninterrupted time together.

Shifting in your seat to look around the small shop more, you found yourself wondering what your soulmates thought of the cozy shop and its somewhat eccentric owner. What were their regular orders here? Did they like having a regular order or did they change it up? You found yourself wanting to know how they decorate their rooms, if they like to read, what they like to watch. You wanted to get to know your soulmates personally in this lifetime, not just what you know of them from every life passed.

A few weeks ago, a few days even perhaps, that would’ve terrified you. You would have found yourself thinking of Jisung and Minho, and these thoughts plenty, but you always shut it down knowing it was fruitless, you wouldn’t get the answers anyways. But now that was different, now they knew you, now they wanted to get to know you just like you wanted to get to know them. Now everything was different, and the two men you love of your memories have a chance to become the men of your present if you so chose. 

While losing yourself in the thoughts, zoning out the conversation happening between the shop owner and your fellow Stray Kids soulmates, your eyes landed on a gorgeous trellis made of wood and covered entirely of vines and flora, reminding you painfully of the arch and altar at your wedding to the two men in one of the very first lives you had a memory of.

“Do not fret, Y/n. No one is going to show up to ruin your marriage tonight, and even if one were to try I am almost positive Changbin and Bee would stop them before you even knew about it.” Sage smiled at you over your shoulder in the mirror, helping you lace up the back of your outfit. 

“My father disowned me because of this wedding, it isn’t entirely implausible for him to not try and put a stop to it.” You sighed, worrying your fingers.

Sage pulled the straps a notch tighter than they needed to go, causing you to yelp and stare at your friend incredulously. “None of that.” Was all that was muttered before you were released and spun around, Sage’s hands finding their way to your shoulders. “Now, you are going to get out there, you are going to marry both of your incredible soulmates, and you are going to let your very oafishly protective elders stop anyone who threatens a bond as beautiful as the one you share with Minho and Jisung. Do you understand me?”

All you could do was nod, tears already welling in your eyes, as you pulled Sage into a tight hug. “Thank you, my friend.” 

“Oh goodness, have the waterworks started already?” Bee teased, leaning casually on the doorframe. “You look great, Y/n. And if you’re ready, so is literally everyone else.”

Squeezing Sage one last time, you smoothed out the non-existent ruffles in your clothes before exiting the building, finding Chan holding a bouquet and waiting patiently leaning against the outside of the tiny cottage. When he looked at you, the emotions welling in his eyes were all you’d ever wanted to see from your father, and while a part of you wished he would have accepted your soulmates, you're more than grateful for Chan stepping up to such an important role.

“Are you ready?”

“More ready than I have ever been for anything.”

And with that, you were led out into the field, to the altar put together with wildflowers and plants, to your soulmates eagerly awaiting you to join them, to the life you’d never regret despite what your father anticipated. 

Because standing there under the floral arch, Jisung’s hand in one of yours and Minho’s in the other, you knew you could never regret them in anything for even a moment.

Minho watched as his lover paced incessantly back and forth in the cutie dorms living room. 

Bee and Riley had informed them that they were in touch with Y/n, their third soulmate, and that they were going out with you for lunch today. Riley refused to tell either boy where they were going, knowing Jisung would show up without hesitation and that Minho would just to avoid leaving Jisung alone in any way.

“What if they decide they don’t want us?” Jisung finally spoke the words that had been weighing on both boys since you disappeared a few nights prior, and even more so since finding out you’d been in touch with Changbin’s and Chan’s soulmates.

If you were in touch with the other soulmates, you could have found Minho and Jisung easily at any point. If you were in touch, one of them found you that night, which means you were likely mere feet from Jisung, as he had been with Riley. There were questions flying through Minho’s head at the same rate as he could see them in Jisungs eyes, but he had to remain calm for his lover, if they were to both spiral, no one would be able to calm Jisung.

“They’re not going to decide that, Sungie. They just found out they have two soulmates, you can’t tell me it didn’t take us a while to process that one too. They’ll find their way to us when they’re ready.” Minho pulled the smaller boy into his arms, pressing gentle kisses to the crown of his head.

“What if they’re never ready, Min?” The youngers voice was soft and shaky, Minho felt his heart break at the sound.

“We can’t think like that, Ji. Y/n is having lunch with two of our family at this very moment, if they were never going to be ready they wouldn’t have agreed to that.” Minho tried to ignore the shiver that ran up his spine at saying your name aloud for the first time in this lifetime, he tried to ignore the peace brought to him just by your name alone. His hold on Jisung tightening, his head burying in the youngers neck. “We’re going to be okay.” He promised, ignoring the persistent what ifs echoing in the back of his head.

What if Jisung was right? What if you were never ready? What if you never chose them because of who they are in this life? As much as Minho wanted to negate those thoughts, memories of lives that turned out exactly like that made him question if this would be one of them. 

His hand tightened around their wrist, trying to pull them back to him. “Why do you keep running away?!”

“Because I have to!” You cried, finally turning to Minho, your eyes glassy with unshed tears. “I have to.” Your voice breaking on every word.

“You don’t have to. You can stay with me, we can figure it out.”

“Figure what out? Minho, soulmates are not the end all be all. As much as I would love to just run to you, run away from everything but you, I have responsibilities. I can’t just do what I want, not in this lifetime. We’ve found each other, awesome, great, we’re still in two completely different worlds. You’d be better off trying to find the one missing from our memories, you’d have a chance to have a life with them, to be happy with them. Do that Minho. Find our third soulmate, forget about me, and be happy. Because I can never be, that’s just not how this life played out for me.”

“You’re telling me that despite everything, you’re not choosing me?”

“God why do you have such selective hearing?! I don’t get a choice Minho. I never did! I was born into the fucking mafia, people don’t get to just walk away from that simply because they found their soulmate. 

“Soulmates are a weakness just waiting to be exploited, you’ll live your whole life constantly looking over your shoulder, constantly in danger, because of me. Is that really what you want for yourself? For whoever we’re missing? Is that the life you’d choose for someone else? Because I wouldn’t choose this life for anyone and I am begging you to leave Minho. Get out while no one knows, get out while there’s no chance for them to know.”

“But I’ll know.” He hated how broken his voice sounded even to his own ears. “And you’ll know.”

Your eyes searched his, looking for any sign that he would listen to you, that he’d walk away and never look back. But all you found was a horrifying sense of finality.

Minho wanted to take it away, let you be free of this world you were forced into. He wanted to take your hand in his and never let go, no matter the danger that came with it. 

He watched as your face morphed from the helpless near tears girl into a cold and emotionless woman, and it terrified him that you had been forced to learn to shed all resemblance of emotion within a blink. 

“I will not ever choose you over my family in this lifetime, Lee Minho. Your life isn’t of importance to me and if you’re so keen to get yourself murdered trying to talk me into leaving with you, then so be it. I won’t come to your rescue.” Saying the words felt like driving a knife right into your own heart and twisting, the look on his face as his grip loosened on your wrist only adding to the immense guilt. 

Ripping your arm away from his grasp, you turned on your heel, head held high, tears threatening your lashes, and left him standing there.

Jisung felt like he couldn’t breathe. All he could do was pace around like a lunatic, and every now and again stop to stare at his hands. The hands that held you, the hands that let you go.

Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the way your eyes lit up, the way your smile outshines every star and sunrise he’d ever witnessed. He could hear the perfect harmony of you and Minho singing together, the way you didn’t miss a single syllable in any of his rap parts.

Jisung thought finding you would bring him peace, completeness, the sense of warmth he already knew with Minho, and for those few minutes he had you, you did. 

Now, Jisung figured just knowing you were nearby, knowing you were close enough that maybe he would run into you again would ease the pain in his chest at the memories flashing through his mind, but when Riley informed him that they were on their way to get lunch with Bee, and you, and refusing to tell him where they were going, he felt his heart shatter all over again. His breathing growing uneven at the idea of you being close enough to enjoy lunch with two of his closest friends, and yet nowhere near him. 

So Jisung paced. He walked back and forth and back again until he was dizzy, trying to rid his body of a pent up energy he had no idea what to do with. If he stopped, he assumed he’d collapse into a full blown panic attack, if that were to happen Minho would have to calm him down, and if Minho has to focus on keeping Jisung level headed, he won’t be able to grieve your absence too. 

Jisung knew he was spiraling, knew he wouldn’t be able to bring himself out of it this time, but he had to pretend he was okay, he had to let Minho spiral if he needed to, which means he can’t. 

He tried to distract himself. He thought of Minho, of the way he curls into him in his sleep. How Minho nudges his hand, silently begging him to keep scratching his scalp when Jisung gets distracted and stops for any longer than five seconds. The memories of how the late afternoon light filters across Minho’s features, making him look like one of those beautiful paintings Hyunjin talks their ears off about. 

But within these thoughts of his incredible soulmate, flitters in you. The way you had a habit of playing with Jisungs hands, he wondered if you’d still do that in this lifetime. He fell into thinking of the way you would stick your tongue out and furrow your brows when you focused too hard on anything, from washing dishes to sewing up a stab wound. He wondered why he had memories of you sewing up stab wounds, and which lives those were from, what you were like in those lifetimes outside the flits of memories he was gifted from the short amount of time he got to be by your side in this one.  

No matter how hard he tried, everything kept coming back to you. Trying to distract himself by thinking of his other soulmate would lead to memories of him coming home to find both of you curled up together, fragments of time stilled in his mind of the two of you, smiling at each other, at him. He knew he would lose his mind if he were to be forced to remember you in every single way and never get to experience any of it outside of those few minutes he had on the street.

“You shouldn’t have come here.”

Your voice was like a melody to his ears, despite the harsh words echoing from it. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t be here.” He countered.

Despite the racing of his heart, the familiarity of you, he had a job. One that required getting through you at any cost. 

“Whatever it is you were sent here for, think very hard, is it worth the cost of your life?”

Jisung didn’t really put a cost on his life. He was raised and trained for one thing only, to carry out orders by any means necessary. And, as if you could sense that in him, you shifted your relaxed stance just slightly, preparing for an attack, but softened your features. 

“There is more to life than what you know, little one.”

At the nickname, he lunged, but it was as if you knew exactly what to expect, perrying and gently placing your hand on his arm, sending the both of you headlong into forgotten memories and lives. 

Coming to, Jisungs guard flew up. He didn’t move, didn’t attempt to attack you, but he shut down every possible emotion you could try to gather from him.

“I can show you a better world. One where you’d be in control of your own life, where you’d have an answer to what is and isn’t worth the cost of it.” 

Your words were gentle, everything about you seemed to be gentle. You softened your stance, returning to the relaxed position, no longer planning to attack him or counter any attacks from him.

“If you give me a chance, I could give you the world.”

“I think I want to meet them.”

Riley shot up from their position sprawled across your couch, Bee’s mouth dropping open in shock. 

“Are you serious?” Riley asked, searching your face for any sense of unease or dishonesty.

You’d been spending endless hours with the two, they’d quickly become your closest friends, aside from Lia. You’d also come to spend a lot of time at Sage’s cafe, quickly learning they are very much a piece of your many lives as well. You were still unsure of how exactly Sage fit into the grand puzzle of lifetimes spent with the same friend group, but you knew they did. Your suspicions only confirmed with Riley and Bee’s agreeance of having Sage within their past lives memories as well.

“Y/n/n, I need you to be so for fucking real right now, do you actually want to meet them?”

You’d seen Bee get serious about stuff before, they weren’t all jokes all the time, but the way they were staring at you at that moment, you knew you had to give the complete honest truth. Bee was protective, and while that insane protective streak has since expanded to you as well, you knew without a shadow of a doubt they’d evescrate you before you had a chance to even think about hurting Minho or Jisung.

“I’m terrified of it, that hasn’t changed. But maybe you’re right, maybe it will work out.” You smile at your friends. “I think I’m ready to risk finding out.”

It didn’t take even twenty whole minutes to get a meeting set up, Riley and Bee dragging you to your room to get you dressed and ready. 

“Is it really a good idea to do this now? I mean, it’s really fast, don’t they want time to like, I don’t know, prepare or something?” You’d been rambling the whole time Bee sat on your lap to hold you in place while fixing your hair. 

“No. Because ‘giving them time’ only gives you time to back out and the last thing we need right now is Ji going into another spiral because he thinks you don’t want them.” You could practically hear the roll of Bee’s eyes as they finally got off you, surveying their handiwork. 

Huffing, you accept your fate as Riley forces an outfit into your arms and shoves you into your bathroom, pulling the door shut.

After getting changed and taking in your appearance, you had to admit, Bee and Riley were good. You’d looked hot, almost to the point of it feeling like it was too much. Taking a deep breath and hyping yourself up in the mirror, you open the door to find Bee and Riley lounging in the hallway, both looking up upon hearing the door open, Riley grinning and Bee letting out a piercing whistle as they take you in, high fiving.

“You’re gonna knock 'em dead, babe.” Bee winked.

You blushed, but couldn’t help the smile stretching across your lips.

“Alright then, let’s do this.”

Not every life went smoothly, not every meeting was practically gold and rainbows. But this one was. Childhood friends and also soulmates is nearly unheard of, most people couldn’t fathom growing up with the memories of every life before the current. But you had met Minho and Jisung at the ripe age of five, Jisung was the baker's son, your mom was looking for work, and you and Jisung were forced to spend hours upon hours every day together.

At first neither of you really understood the full depth of your shared connection, but when you both met Minho, and shared all the same memories with him as well, your young minds didn’t have it in them to care. 

Growing up, the three of you would learn the full extent of what happened, but you never had the disconnect from the memories, having your past lives almost completely integrated with your current. 

“I wish we could find each other young in every lifetime. It made everything so much easier.” Jisung muttered into your hair. You hummed in contented agreement, fingers massaging Minho’s scalp.

“Unfortunately, that’s not gonna be the case Sungie. Some lives will be easier, some will be harder, there may even be some we never meet at all. But at least in this one, we’ll get to love each other for far longer than we went without.” Despite his words, Minho’s voice was a purr and you knew without a doubt that all three of you, whilst scared of what future lives may entail, were perfectly at peace in that one. 

Riley and Bee had never spent so much time away from the boys. 

From the very moment Changbin found Bee, they were a permanent fixture within the group. Bee helped 3Racha write and produce, they were in the studio almost as much as the group, and if they weren’t there, they weren’t far.

Riley, from the moment of finally accepting Chan at least, was never far either. They would always be around, making sure all of the boys were eating, weren’t overworking themselves, taking in enough fluids. 

To put it lightly, the gap of their absences was almost painfully noticeable in the weeks they seemed to all but vanish. Ever since their lunch with Y/n, it’s been as if the two were ghosts in the skz household. 

Jisung knew they were still around, the lack of moping from either of his fellow producers was proof enough, but he hadn’t seen a glimpse of them for days, maybe even weeks. 

He felt as if his world was fracturing. Minho was working tirelessly on new choreography, Bee wasn’t around to help him with songs, Riley wasn’t around to make sure he was drinking water, all of his members were enjoying their break before the next comeback, and he was exhausted. Jisung didn’t know how to get out of his head, and he wasn’t sure who to ask for help from. 

He knew if he kept the pace he was at, he’d inevitably spiral, and that wouldn’t be any good for anyone. Jisung had decided to hide away in his room and sleep, it was the best answer he could come up with, but just as sleep was threatening to finally overtake him, his door burst open, a downright giddy Changbin standing in the threshold.

“I’m about to take a nap, tell me about it later.” Jisung groaned, turning his back to his friend before his friend could say anything.

Changbin, not having any of it, stomped over and ripped the blankets away from the smaller boy, lifting him out of bed, carrying Jisung to the bathroom, despite his protests, and threw him in the shower.

Before Jisung could complain, yell, or even get a thought in, Changbin turned the water on, drenching him in seconds. 

“Y/n wants to meet, get cleaned up and ready to go in ten.” The older boy said before leaving the bathroom, closing the door behind him, and leaving an absolutely dumbfounded Jisung to slowly register the words, excitement growing with his understanding. 

````

Weeks. Minho had been trying to get the choreography for the next comebacks title track down for weeks. Everything he came up with didn’t feel right, and when it did he didn’t think it looked right. 

Hyunjin and Yongbok had offered to help, they’d even stayed with him, learning new dances, so Minho could see how it looked with multiple people, for a fresh perspective. But nothing was right. No matter how much Yongbok would swear he thought it flowed well, no matter how easy Hyunjin picked it up, nothing was right. 

Minho knew, deep down, it wasn’t the dances that were off, it wasn’t his choreography at all. He knew it was nothing to do with anything related to music that was wrong, but the only thing he could translate the misconstrued emotions to was dance. 

He created new dances every day to give his body and mind something to do, something to take away the wandering thoughts and memories. He’d rather tire himself to exhaustion than remember how it felt to have you by his side. 

Minho had come to the conclusion that you were not going to choose them, and he couldn’t blame you for it at all. His hopes were up after he’d seen his only hyung work things out with his soulmate, but not everyone could find it in themselves to be with an idol. Being an idol was hard enough, dating one was a whole other demon of its own. 

Despite knowing he has Jisung, despite being overwhelmingly worried about his lover, Minho simply needed to mourn the lover they never had a chance with. He needed his time to accept the fates cruelty upon their lives this time around, and then he’d help Jisung accept it as well. 

So he kept dancing. For weeks.

Minho had always found solitude in an empty dance studio. The way the mirrors would be completely empty save for his figure, the silence filling a typically boisterous room, there was just something peaceful about a place meant to be filled being empty.

He was stretching, preparing for hours of working out kinks in his newest routine completely unbothered. He wasn’t even supposed to be there. They were on break, all of the boys were off doing who knows what, and they were supposed to be relaxing leading up to their busy season. Yet Minho was in the empty dance studio, all by himself. 

He was lost in thoughts, already hacking away at the parts he wanted to rework, mentally trying to decipher how to fix them, when the door to the studio was nudged open. His eyes shifted to the door in the mirror, finding his only hyung standing in the doorway, a small smile gracing his features. 

“You might want to put your plans for the day on hold.” Chan said without even greeting him. 

“Why’s that?” Minho asked, being unable to stop the quirk of his brow. 

“Because we have lunch plans. Are you sweaty?” 

Minho shook his head, “Just got here, I was stretching.”

“Great, put on street shoes and let’s get out of here, we’ve gotta meet Bin and Ji at the dorms.” Chan smiled, moving to grab Minho’s bag for him. 

“What’s the rush?” Jisung hadn’t mentioned any lunch plans with the other producers, but to be fair he and Jisung had been somewhat distant from one another lately.

“It’s a soulmate lunch. Me and Riles, Bin and Beebee, you and your soulmates.”

Minho nodded his agreement, very used to soulmate lunches, working on lacing his street shoes when he froze in realization. 

Him and his soulmates.

````

To say you were nervous would be a gross understatement. You were downright jittery.

Bee and Riley were positioned on either side of you, both steadfast pillars of comfort bringing an almost overwhelming sense of security. You would be okay, because how could you not be with them by your side?

You’d agreed to meet at Sage's cafe for lunch, it was mutual ground and low foot traffic. Perfect for essentially a first meeting with your two idol soulmates and, from your understanding, Bee and Riley’s idol soulmates as well. 

You were ready to bolt. Ready to full on leg it home and lock your door, never to come out again. Despite the peace of knowing three of your closest friends would be there, meeting them was still an absolutely terrifying concept.

The what ifs a plague playing on repeat. What if they don’t like you? What if you ruin everything for them? What if their fans find out? What if, what if, what if. 

But with every bad what if, there was also a good one. What if you fit in seamlessly? What if they don’t care about their fans finding out? What if they are as scared and excited to finally meet you as you are to meet them? What if, what if, what if.

You knew you could bolt. You knew that Bee and Riley talked big, but if push came to shove and you needed an out, they’d have your back and get you out. You knew you could turn on your heel and walk the opposite way and they’d text their soulmates an update, and that yours would more than likely be devastated.

It was the fact that you could that kept you from doing so. The idea of Jisung and Minho waiting for you, the mental image of them deflating after hearing you’d change your mind, the thought of them being upset due to your actions, pushed you forward, kept you walking, and you knew no matter what you walked in on, you wouldn’t be able to back out now. You wouldn’t be the one to break the loves of your every lifetime. 

Seeing the familiar shop, your heart was in your throat. There would be no turning back, no changing your mind. In choosing to meet them, you chose to give them the ball, everything would be up to them, and the closer you got to the cozy shop, the more you realized you were truly okay with that.

You were never actually nervous about meeting your soulmates, you were giddy about it. 

As you pushed the door open, letting the familiar sound of its little bell notify Sage of your arrival, your eyes found your soulmates in record time, both sat at the table under the trellis covered in flora and vines. Your breath caught at the smiles gracing both of their faces, and you knew.

Even though soulmates can be a painful thing, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to run away from yours again. 

a/n: ahhhhh it’s almost overrrr😭🥺🥺 this was gonna be a lot angstier and then it just, wasn’t. and idk what that’s all about but I like how it turned out lol. I dragged my feet on writing this part for actual weeks and then wrote like, 5k of it in two days, so I hope it was good haha! thank you so so much for reading, please let me know your thoughts!!🫶🫶🫶

taglist: @starlostastronaut @mariteez @tired-of-life-86 @skizmee @elisiexoxo @cutiespaghetti @httpswilloww @sundownimup-1 @lolareadsimagines @rockstrhanji @quokkampi @kayleefriedchicken @vivirantshere @ciellebys

[morganbritton132]

i don’t know if this would fit into your au or not but like imagine steve was stressed out with grading or something at school overwhelmed him and while eddie was live he asks to color in his tattoos to help his brain turn off or something idk

No, I actually really love this. It one hundred percent fits into this AU and I think it should fit into every AU because it’s adorable.

A lot has been going on lately.

It’s the understatement of the year. When Steve’s not dealing with his mother or with Eddie’s fans sending death threats than he’s dealing with his health and the frustration that lies there. If it’s not that than he’s dealing with the problems that all of this has caused in his relationship and if not that, it’s work.

Steve has fallen behind on his grading. They’re heading into standardized testing and then before you know it, finals week will be here, and Steve hasn’t even started adjusting his lesson plans to prepare his students, and it’s just. It’s a lot.

It’s getting to the point where it’s too much, and Steve’s chest is getting tight in the way that always alerts Ozzy. He’s so tense that when a hand lands solidly on his knee, he feels like he’s going to shatter. Eddie’s looking at him, keyboard sat in front of him, “You’ve been spacing out for like, ten minutes.”

“Sorry.”

“You don’t gotta be, everything okay?” He asks, going about his business with setting up – whatever it is he said he was going to do. Eddie knows that Steve doesn’t like being looked at when he’s overwhelmed, so he’s not looking. So, Steve must not be hiding it very well.

Steve says, “My head’s too loud.”

Eddie spares him a glance and Steve sees him smile as he turns his head back down to the keyboard. He presses on key as he asks, “Anything I can do to help?”

Eddie’s wearing short sleeves, one hand dancing across the keys in a melody as the other stays by his side. It doesn’t feel like Steve’s interrupting anything when he asks, “Can I color in your tattoos?”

“Sure!” Eddie grins, perking up like he was just waiting for that answer. “Get the markers, babe. Make me something pretty.”

Steve smiles too, feeling some of the anxiety ease away as he gets up to find their markers. He calls back over his shoulder, “You can’t get whatever I draw tattooed on you again!”

“No promises!”

[evanhereonearth]

A sense of calm suffuses me when I see the spirit. It fills me with recognition—I may not have met this spirit, but they know me. And part of me feels that I should know them.

Usually this is where I am most at ease, in the Fade with spirits. But this is not my usual path in the Fade. This is his.

“Hello,” I say, feeling shy for the first time in some time.

“Welcome, dweller. You have long been expected here.”

Their words both sting and soothe. He knew I would make it here eventually; of course he knew. I have the sudden and absurd fear that I’m somehow late.

“Will you—will you guide me, if there is anywhere I am meant to go?” I stop talking. “What is your name?”

Wrong order, Ilaana.

“You may call me the Caretaker. Your path will reveal itself to you, dweller, but if I may be of assistance, I am happy to help. Your presence here strengthens this place.”

That knot of anxiety relaxes somewhat. “Is he—is he here?”

“You would know if he were near,” the Caretaker says.

No, then.

I nod my assent; I did not expect Solas to be waiting for me. Even so, some part of me always hopes he will one day be there when I turn around. A foolish hope, when there is so much work left to do.

“I may be here some time,” I say to the Caretaker. “I’m not even sure what I’m searching for, only that he left me a trail. I wouldn’t have come without that invitation.”

“You are welcome, dweller, for as long as you need. No place here is closed to you.”

I have never encountered a spirit like this one, this Caretaker. Their energies are gentle, honed to a level of efficiency I’ve only ever seen with Solas himself. This is a being who has existed for a very, very long time. I close my eyes for a few heartbeats, just listening.

Spirits respond to what they hear from us, and I know from me they hear hurt. Heartbreak. Exhaustion. Hope. This spirit is not Compassion, but there is a tenderness about them that reminds me of Cole. But where Cole sometimes fumbled, I sense that the Caretaker does not.

“You left the last hints,” I say slowly, opening my eyes. “Not him.”

“Incorrect. I did, however, consult on what would be most appropriate to reach your curiosity without drawing others here.”

“You chose well,” I murmur.

The final clue had been a small chain of silverite stars, enchanted to shimmer like real starlight. I wore them to Halamshiral the night I discovered Solas’s other names. No one else could make that connection. Solas himself is the only one who knows that is when I found out. They had hung from the filigree on a dormant eluvian. I’d awakened it with a touch; he had made me the key.

“He thinks what I will find here will dissuade me,” I say softly to the Caretaker. “But you do not.”

“Astute, dweller. His want belies his need; I act to meet the need.”

“His or mine?”

“Yes,” says the Caretaker. Their voice is warm, comforting. “It is for you to seek.”

“Will you tell me the need you are trying to meet?” I do not expect they will, but it’s worth asking.

“It is not only the needs of two addressed here. You stand in the Crossroads in truth, dweller. But I will answer for the needs of two: each other,” the spirit answers, surprising me. “One step closer.”

I freeze, my heart giving a flutter with the hope I keep so carefully contained.

“Seek, dweller. We will meet again.”

The Caretaker vanishes, leaving me standing alone in the wolf’s territory.

If he wants me to seek, I will seek.

I turn towards the path, and there, right in front of me, is a small plinth with a wolf statuette, the form of the howling wolf swirling with his essence in whirls of blue.

With trepidation, I reach out to take it.

The world vanishes.

[ruepellie]

I haven't seen a lot of discussion about RSD when it comes to ADHD discussions, so I thought I would do the honors since it's been affecting me for many years and I'd like people to know more about it!

I have had a diagnosis for ADHD but was never told- instead learning I had autism through therapy but still having some behaviors that I could never explain that just Happened.

I learned I had ADHD over the summer, and with that, severe rejection sensitive dysphoria.

before reading, please keep in mind that this is mostly talking from personal experience and some skimmed research! not experiencing RSD doesn't mean you do/don't have ADHD, and it may not appear like how it appeared for me. I don't only have autism + adhd either, so those may also contribute to any differences! ^^

RSD is the immense emotional pain after being criticized, rejected, or even teased (ignore my misspell in the panel). This rejection can be real or perceived, and we react like this because it hurts.

The pain can manifest as aggression, bringing on symptoms of depression (thoughts of s/h, isolation, demotivation, etc) and anxiety/panic attacks.

it can cause physical aliments like the above. For me, it causes my heartrate to skyrocket, heart palpitations, the feeling of being in a crisis, and extreme shaking to occur along with stomach pain.

(In fact, right now I'm going through it because making a post talking about this, despite having & dealing with it, makes me scared of other's opinions on it.)

RSD can also take the form of avoiding situations, people, or conversations where rejection or criticism is very possible.

Like other types of dysphoria, it is out of our control and hard to manage. It can last from days to weeks to months, all depending on both the trigger* and the individual.

I had a RSD episode that was on-and-off for a little over a year or two; getting more tame and bearable as it slowly drifted and stopped haunting my mind with the incident.

Compared to the other times my RSD was set off, this moment was a rather big moment in my life and ended up permanently changing me moving forward - which can be the reason why it lasted so long.

Despite how unbearable it can get, there are some ways to cope with it & lessen the effect it has.

Communicate - If you need time to process something that's told to you, you should say so (as difficult as it is). Tell the person(s) involved about your RSD, how you need time to digest information like this and take some time to relax. Trying to respond to the information while going through the head of the dysphoria will be very rough and might not be what you truly want to say.

Distract - This is really useful for me personally! Do something that grabs your attention or occupies your mind. One of RSD's main symptoms is rumination, thinking of something over and over again. I usually listen to music, draw, or play a game that won't frustrate me - like minecraft! (i'd say rain world but some of you would call me a maniac /lhj)

Perspective - This may require some communication, but it can really help and connect with others. See what the involved people thought / perceived, explain, talk. This doesn't always have the chance to end in rainbows and rekindling but at least you understand. Sometimes simply hearing the person explain their own side is enough to ease my RSD, being able to have someone explain themselves to me so i can understand them better.

I also wanna point out the "don't take it personally" thing that people try to use to deal with it isn't something i agree with since we're going to take it personally at first regardless. Later on, not really, but you're trying to cope with the symptoms... telling someone (or yourself) that they're too sensitive & over-reacting is the worse thing you could do.

With time, you can even begin to build up your 'armor' and be able to sustain yourself in situations you might get hurt in. Of course, some things may be able to sneak past and hurt you more than you expect, but at the end of the day, you're trying your best to go about it the best you can while taking so many blows. you're doing great.

OK i dont have a lot more to add so if anyone else would like to talk about their experiences, please feel free! Character showcased here was my beloved fursona Shiki! i'm just a little neurodivergent + black artist from new york :]

hope you enjoyed it! sorry for the long post </3

[cultofdixon]

Loved in Different Ways

Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Friends with benefits doesn’t always stay like such. A relationship happens, just friends, or the worse possibility of ruining what the two of you had to begin with. And it’s always feelings that get in the way of it all • ANGST/SFW/NSFW - protected & unprotected sex (no glove, no love) / m & f receiving / grinding / fingering / outdoor sex / face riding • TW: Scars / Past Abuse / Insecurities / Injuries / Canon Violence / Anxiety

Requested by: Anon

It had to start somewhere.

Daryl stumbles into the shared room at the CDC he was sharing with Y/N since neither of them wanted to be stuck with Shane and his big head. She was a bit tipsy herself and it took a second to look up from the book she found in the room to look at the archer entering the room. He shuts the door loudly making them both flinch.

“Ass”

“Sorry, little…out of it”

“Mm. You’re gonna regret it in the morning”

“So are you” Daryl scoffs having to point out he’s not the only drunk in there. “Yea think this shit can really help us?”

“Mmm…No, bastard is alone. Harder to cure somethin’ by yourself” Y/N leans back into the couch. “Kind of stressful thinkin’ about it”

“Wanna not think about it?” His boldness shined through as it caught Y/N off guard a bit and her shocked expression made him feel regretful. “Sorry I—-“

“Stress relief, right?” Y/N gave him a curious look as Daryl didn’t wait another second before pressing his lips firmly against hers.

As he slowly towers the woman on the couch making her instinctively move to lay down. Daryl brought himself on top of her slotting himself between her legs as Y/N brought her arms around his neck pulling him back down to reconnect their lips while his hands explored lower.

His big warm hands started to reach under her shirt drawing chills down her back. He parts for a moment to bring her shirt over her head and admire the view.

“No bra?”

“I was going to bed before we decided this…why the fuck would I wear one?”

“Mm. Maybe you shouldn’t…like…ever” Daryl watches the complexion in her face turn a bit more red compared to the pink hue from being drunk. He knew he got her with that one.

The archer lowers himself taking her right breast into his mouth taking her sensitive bud in-between his teeth getting more riled up to the sounds she started to make. While he gave the right one the attention of his mouth he used his free hand to massage the other making her arch her back pressing herself against him.

“Fuck…give me more” She begs feeling his teeth tug at her nipple ripping out a moan from her throat as Daryl lets go.

“Just testing some things” Daryl brought his fingers to gently pinch her nipple to ease the pain from the biting as she whines. “Patience, honey. I’ll give you exactly what you want” he sighs pressing his lips to her neck gently sucking to leave marks while he brought his hands to undo his belt feeling her shift from beneath him to remove her shorts and panties while he took care of himself.

Once he freed himself from the confines of his pants and boxers, Y/N suddenly flinched when she felt his cock rest against her core. She grinds up against him looking down at how big he was while he couldn’t control the noises he made feeling how wet she was.

“All for me?”

“Yes…yes all for you, now please” Y/N gave him a pleasing look as he aligns himself watching himself slowly enter her while glancing up every now and then checking for any signs of discomfort. But hell she’s enjoying herself. So was he.

This was the start of a very interesting relationship.

It usually ever happened when either one of them was stressed.

“Y/N, got a sec?” Daryl whispers to her as she was listening to Shane have another rant about the search for Sofia and how Carl was doing. Y/N nods before leaving the group to go with him to the stables of the Greene Farm.

Daryl suddenly pressed Y/N up against one of the stable walls crashing their lips together. But the heated make out session involved a lot more talking.

“Leavin’ tomorrow. Search for the kid” He pants bringing his lips back to hers once more biting her bottom lip and gently pulling back.

Y/N groans in a good way watching him get on his knees fiddling with her pants. “Just be safe”

“Mm. Worried about me, honey?” Daryl smirks looking up at her seeing her face flush liking the way he looks on his knees a bit too much. “Spread’em”

“The fuck are you doing?” Y/N suddenly slammed against the stall when Daryl brought her legs on his shoulders after ridding her of her clothes. She felt shivers on her spine when his hot breath hit her core. “Fuck…”

“Didn’t even touch yea yet” She couldn’t see the on going smirk on his face as he immediately brought his tongue between her lips.

“Jesus Christ!” She moans to the sudden action as he continues to make out with her pussy enjoying every single sound she was making, especially when his nose would bump into her clit intentionally.

“Cum for me, honey” Daryl begs into her continuing what he was doing while squeezing her thighs at a bruising level. The moment he felt her legs tremble, he strengthen his grip for her to let go and weakly lean against the stall.

As the archer helped her stand helping her get her pants on as she didn’t notice that he stuffed her panties in his back pocket. She’d realize later and smirk to herself to the action. As Y/N finishes getting her pants on she finally noticed the horse that was staring at the two.

“Was he there the whole time?”

Daryl turned to see the horse staring and glared back at it. “Fuck if I know”

“Next time, wait til night to do it in your tent. I don’t need the farm life watching me get it off” Y/N smacks his chest in a playful manner before heading out of the stables first.

There’s been a few times since the CDC and frankly, Y/N at first thought it was all to relieve stress. Forget about the day. Or whatever has you needing to take a load off. But when Daryl returned with the help of the Rick and Shane carrying him in, something snapped.

Daryl flinches to the bright light that shines in his eyes only to relax seeing Y/N on the other side of it.

“You could’ve died”

“Meh.”

Meh? Really… Y/N didn’t let her facial expression falter as she kept a neutral one while continuing the neuro exam only for Daryl to take the small flashlight into his hand.

“This isn’t effective for the outdoors?”

“It’s my pen light, from when I was a resident” Y/N smiles taking it back and slipping it into her flannel pocket.

“Mmm…does that mean you patched me up too? Or is it just kids lives you save?” Daryl leans back into the pillows enjoying the temporary time he’ll have in an actual bed.

“Were you a detective in old world? Because how the fuck can you guess that when you just learned I used to be a doctor and was learning to be in peds?”

“You just confirmed it, honey”

Y/N couldn’t help the blush that time hearing that nickname she’s heard a number of times. “You’re just clever then. But yeah. In the old world I was training to be a peds surgeon. And I did help Hershel patch you up”

“That why you shining a light in my eyes?”

“Had to make sure you didn’t have a brain issue. Can’t lose you” I really can’t lose you.

Some part of Daryl took those words further but there’s always something to keep him where he’s at.

“Gonna nurse me back to health?”

“Time does that, buddy.” Y/N got up from the edge of the bed moving toward the door. “But…” as she locks the door she turned toward him with lustful eyes. “I can give you some relief”

The archer was intrigued and before he could even stress about the residents in the building, Y/N reassured him that most of them were out and she may not be a skilled tracker like him…but it would take a lot to startle her. She’s more prepared than he thinks.

“Maybe—-“

“Close the curtains for good measure? Already ahead of you” Y/N smiles closing the curtains before climbing onto the bed straddling his legs. “Now just lay there and look pretty”

“What about you, honey?”

“Oh you’ll repay me later. And you better…” Y/N brought her legs to part his nestling in between them as her hands worked at his pants unbutton them and freeing his cock from its restraints.

Daryl brought his arms behind his head watching Y/N carefully wrap her hand around his cock. Stroking a few times before finally licking a long stripe from his base to the tip making him buck his hips slightly to her already welcoming mouth. She started to suck just the tip drawing quiet moans to escape from his lips as one of his hands drops beside him gripping the sheets the more she took into her mouth.

He’s massive Y/N thought as she took more in knowing damn well she’s going to choke but she’s up for the challenge. Even if Daryl couldn’t help the instinctive thrust in her mouth making her gag as that sound riled him up even more when he knew damn well not to stress the rest of his body.

“Fuck.” He groans feeling her pull off as a trail of spit from his tip to her lips made his cock twitch. “Don’t hurt yourself now”

An eye roll was Y/N’s only response to such as she went back to sucking his cock with the help of her free hand gently cupping his balls. She’s always so gentle He thought watching her take all of him into her mouth once more knowing he wasn’t going to last much longer.

Daryl couldn’t contain it much longer as he shot his seed into her mouth expecting her to want to spit it out. But as she pulls away swallowing his load, she’s full of surprises. Y/N wipes the excess spit off her lips with the back of her hand as Daryl tucks himself back into his pants watching her cover him in the sheets.

“Now get some rest” Y/N smirks patting his chest on her way out as he couldn’t help but watch her walk away.

Y/N steps out of the Greene house watching Andrea approach the place about to pass her when she just had to stop.

“Hey, I’m sorry for accidentally shooting Daryl. I know how close the two of you are and just…thought I’d apologize to you too”

At least she doesn’t know the “benefits” of the closeness Y/N sighs turning to Andrea and approaching her ever so quietly before suddenly grabbing her collar bringing her face to face. “You ever take a risky shot like that again. I’ll have yea meet your maker before the dead does”

The woman quickly pulls away seeing the anger in Y/N’s glare linger even as she walks away removing her attention from her. And Andrea thought only Daryl was the scary one.

A few nights in the Greene house did him good, but he eventually left without telling anybody. Just as long as Daryl continues to take it easy for a while…even in his own tent. But the night he left he didn’t go to his tent. Instead, he entered Y/N’s when everyone else was sleeping knowing she would be awake given the apocalypse made her insomnia return. He may not have asked himself, but he listens to everything she says while she talks to the others.

“See you’re up and at’em again” Y/N lowers her book a bit surprised the archer came to her tent instead of tapping the outside three times to indicate her to move to his. Given his isn’t with the group.

Daryl didn’t say anything as he brought himself over to her connecting their lips together. Y/N brought her left arm around his shoulders running her hand through his hair as he continued to kiss her. Pushing his tongue past her lips to explore her mouth and fight with hers enjoying the sounds she made just from such. He pulls away at the right moment for both to catch their breaths looking at Y/N longingly.

“Thanks for nursin’ me up”

“That’s one hell of a thanks…you’re welcome”

“Mm. I’m not done yet, honey.” He snuck in one more kiss before pulling away entirely. “I just ain’t doing anythin’ in a tent too close to others”

That was her indicator to go to his for more of her thanks from the archer. Waiting an appropriate time before going.

Neither of them kept track of time, especially when they fell asleep after. Daryl always woke early and before everyone else. He saw Y/N sleeping peacefully beside him as every worry he had before about getting caught subsided for he enjoyed the sight of her sleeping. Sleeping peacefully finally… Daryl gently brushes the hair out of her face continuing to enjoy the sight feeling a twitch of a smile.

Too bad those moments were rare, and the peace was even rarer…or taken from them.

When Glenn announced that the barn was full of walkers, it went downhill from there. Shane being who he was just had to make things worse and reveal the walkers. Inevitably taking them out…and Sophia with the group of undead. Y/N couldn’t help the tears that formed not by the realization of where she’s been all this time but by the loud sobbing coming from Carol as Daryl kept her away from the walker version of her daughter.

The trend only continued to go down, which meant the two not having a moment alone to unwind or hell…even talk. When the barn burned down and news of Lori’s pregnancy came clear to everyone, Rick started taking charge and appointed Y/N to take care of her. Sometimes she wishes the apocalypse took her out day one, then she wouldn’t be tasked with stress on top of stress.

It’s been a few months house hopping…

“Hey…where’d yea jacket go?” Daryl watches the doc shiver slightly given the only thing on her was her long sleeve and her flannel over it.

“Lori needs to stay warm. To avoid getting sick that can harm her and the baby” Y/N frowns hugging herself as Daryl couldn’t help the worry mixed with anger brewing in his chest. She shouldn’t have to sacrifice her things for someone else.

He knelt down to her level scanning her person before looking around finding those huddling up in their little groups. He leans into her space whispering. “I know a way that can warm yea up”

“Get the warden to stop watching my every move and then I’m all yours”

The archer has a few tricks up his sleeve as he got up from his position heading over to Rick to talk to him about something. Leaving Y/N to think the worse for just a moment until she felt a scarf wrap around her. She looks up only to smile at Carol for the gesture watching her settle the best she could by the fire that they’re controlling to stay low. In case of yknow…more assholes.

“Y/N. Go on the run with Daryl” Rick states returning his attention back to Lori who was still upset about what happened at the farm.

Y/N looks at him confused and even more when looking at Daryl. How’d he manage to do that?

The two headed out of the house as Daryl took lead toward another before stopping when he no longer heard her footsteps behind him. Y/N looks up at the sky as the snow fell feeling that old familiar feeling of calm. She sighs watching the condensation from the usual misty cloud in the air before picking up the pace to follow him into the home.

“How’d yea manage to free me from my ball and chain?”

“Told’em we’ll go find stuff for the future Grimes spawn. Might come up empty”

“We’ll bring something back. Even if it’s just a blanket” Y/N smiles for a second as she sat on the couch after setting her pack down. Daryl did the same joining her after setting his pack and crossbow down, watching her hands instantly go for his poncho using it to warm her soft freezing hands.

I’ll forever take in every minor detail…even when I’m afraid of this feeling in my chest Daryl watches her do such before taking her hands into his. “C’mere honey” he tugs at her hands watching Y/N move from her side of the couch throwing a leg over his lap straddling him and getting comfortable.

“You are depriving me of your warm hands…”

“Oh, but I’m not” He brought his hands under her shirt feeling how cold she really was even with a few layers. She needs to stop sacrificing her own well-being for another. He sighs pulling her in close and hiding his face in the crook of her neck thinking the action will want her to pull away since it’s not what they originally agreed on.

But Y/N wraps her arms around his neck bringing her as close as humanely possible. The two stayed like that for an hour or hell…felt like forever. Some part of them…never wanted to part from the other.

On the way to return to the rest of the group, they did manage to find some items that most can benefit from and especially the future member joining. Before Y/N entered the house, Daryl grabbed her arm to stop her and as she turns to him she saw the jacket in his hands.

“Don’t let Rick take it from yea for his wife. And don’t instantly give it to her either”

“I promise”

The prison felt like a gift sent by God, then also a rude awakening. This higher power seems to always give both sides of the coin with every decision he/she/they make. The group had gotten separated in the prison because of one of the prisoners that lead to the walkers infesting parts. While few went for a safe option of finding a hiding spot, others search for others, and the worse part of the sick cosmic joke as reality.

That being Maggie stepping out of the prison when part of the group regrouped holding the little baby while Carl walks beside her with the numb feeling coursing through him.

“Oh Maggie…” Y/N frowns watching her sob as she went to Glenn instinctively while Rick falls apart. I should’ve been there… the guilt was going to eat her alive if she didn’t. “Let me check the baby”

“We even got anythin’ a baby can eat?”

“The baby needs formula” Hershel adds watching Rick go numb before taking his axe and heading back inside.

“We ain’t losing anymore people. I’ll go on a run”

“I’ll go with you”

“So would I”

Y/N watches the three head toward the cars as she held the small baby checking her features while Hershel joins her in the main area of the prison to make sure she is indeed healthy.

Thankfully she was.

This little baby had Y/N wrapped around her little finger as she hasn’t let go of her since she was handed to her. When the formula finally came she was handed off to Daryl who happily took her and got her situated in his embrace feeding her the bottle that Maggie had made.

“Yeah…you like that lil ass kicker?” Daryl smiles hearing a few laughs at the nickname as he looks up finding Y/N admiring the sight of the two.

During the night Beth took over caring for the little one while Carl tried to get some sleep along with the others.

Daryl sat on the catwalk on a mattress watching Y/N step out of her cell half way locking eyes with him. It took only a second for him to know to follow her after she got a head start.

The archer followed the doc outside of the prison in the courtyard or more so a blindspot from Glenn who took up the watchtower that night. Daryl brought himself closer resting his hands on her hips feeling Y/N’s arms snake around his neck. Neither of them said anything and had a similar moment like back in the house during the harsh winter.

Securing the safety lead to a few things that lead to another break given so much was going on.

Glenn and Maggie getting kidnapped by Merle

Michonne’s arrival

Part of the group rescuing Glenn and Maggie

Daryl leaving with Merle…

Daryl leaving with Merle.

Y/N was about to ask more about why he decided to do that but Rick immediately ignored her and went to Carol. Telling her what Daryl wanted her to know.

That left a bitter taste in her mouth but she couldn’t do anything about it. He was gone and a part of her felt…lost. The doc groans leaving the room the two were in to hide away in their cell until the every other hour check on Judith. But she knew Hershel would handle it if she didn’t…which lead to her staying in that cell for hours. She didn’t hear when Daryl returned and of course with his brother of all people but a small part of her acted and didn’t care in the moment.

“Don’t do that shit again” Y/N yells at Daryl the second he came to her after returning before going to talk to Rick about the plan for the Governor.

Daryl frowns feeling awful for a moment as Merle wraps an arm around his shoulders.

“She’s the one yea talked about? Feisty” and without a second thought, Daryl socked his own brother in the family jewels making him drop to his knees.

________

“I’m gonna go back. To my people.” Daryl glares at his brother heading back toward the prison as Merle was quick to follow.

“They don’t want me there”

“So?! They want me there and they’re just gonna have to deal with yea.” Daryl clenched his fists thinking for a moment before turning back to Merle and grabbing a fist full of his shirt. “But you don’t go anywhere near—-“ then it dawned on him once more, they weren’t anything but physical. “Forget it. Just shut the fuck up”

“Who’s got yea tied around their finger baby brother? Or hell who’s got that heart of yours in the palm of their hand?” Merle follows shortly behind. “The only Dixon with a goddamn heart has given it to someone special—-“

“I didn’t give shit”

“Oh yeah? Then why are you in such a hurry. And why did yea tell Officer Friendly to tell another one from that group to keep an eye on…who was it? This chick named Y/N?”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP MERLE” He snaps watching his older brother step back to get away from his angry little brother. “Keep your mouth shut. You don’t get to say shit until you’re useful”

“Fine fine…whatever” The two started to walk back once again as Merle kicks a rock along the way never knowing when to shut up. “If she’s smokin’ just hit it—-“

“MERLE”

________

He never thought he’d miss his annoying ass.

Daryl laid in the grass a few steps away from his brother that he had just put down. Of course he pulled a Hail Mary and no one but him would think positive about such. There was still a threat…but at least he did something for someone other than himself.

Once the archer returned to the prison, he didn’t stop to talk to anybody. He had one thing on mind and went to find it.

Beth looks up from the crib that held Judith finding Daryl at the cell door. She taps Y/N’s shoulder to grab her attention as she looks at the archer.

“I need yea”

“Are you hurt?”

“No. I just. Y/N.” Daryl didn’t want to say it out loud even if there was more to it. “Come on”

Y/N nods handing Beth the bottle she had just made before rising from the bottom bunk to follow Daryl into a completely other cellblock where they both knew no one would interrupt.

Daryl entered one of the cells first as Y/N followed about to ask if something was wrong and there was. There always was.

“He’s dead”

“What? Who…Merle?” Y/N frowns watching him nod as he drops his crossbow toward the wall. “Daryl I’m so sorry—-“

“Son of a bitch did nothing for others in his entire life” Daryl frowns sitting on the bottom bunk feeling the bed shift when Y/N joined him. “This just had to be his one heroic act. In a hell of a world”

“The apocalypse makes people do crazy things”

The archer kept his attention on her, always on her. He knew he could fall apart in her comforts and his body couldn’t hold it in any longer. The tears came suddenly and Y/N carefully held his face wiping away the tears as he brought himself closer…eventually pressing his lips against hers making her gently push away.

“Daryl…”

“Please…”

Y/N could sense how broken he was in the moment that she was conflicted on what she should do. She brought her arms around him bringing him closer like times before. But she soon parted looking at him lovingly.

“Let me take care of you”

This moment felt more intimate than other times. Daryl didn’t rush…he worshiped every part of her…still littered her body in marks but in the sense that he can…more so he wants those to know. Even if she was going to cover most of them later.

The archer started to slow his thrusts for a second staying above the doc looking down at her. He brought his right hand to gently caress her cheek, admiring the features that rest on her beautiful face. Taking in every blemish, freckle, and scar…his body relaxed as did hers.

I can’t ever lose you.

Once the threat of the Governor was dealt with. Now it was time to rebuild the prison to be their home. It took months but it got there with the help of the Woodbury folk they had taken in after they realized their former leader was a flawed man. More people meant Y/N was busier for one, but thankful there was another doctor around to help. The council consisted of mostly the Greene Farm group as Rick needed to step down from power, which lead to Daryl and Glenn stepping into the role more with the help of Hershel and Carol. Including a new friend, Sasha.

But besides the new stuff…the relationship hasn’t changed much from where it was. Y/N felt stupid for holding back a lot of her words for wanting more but wanting more can lead to a lot of negative outcomes as well. She didn’t want to lose a friend.

Then one morning before the runners were going to head out before Daryl was going to head out, Y/N knew he’d be by his bike waiting for the others to get ready so she thought that small window would be of opportunity. Instead, she found herself eavesdropping on a conversation between Daryl and Carol.

“So…How’s Y/N?”

“What?” Daryl looks at Carol confused, more so thinking she knew about their sneaking out at night or during the day for a “minute”.

“You’re always with her. I assume you two are something but like in hiding? You two are cu—-“

“There’s nothin’” He was so quick to say that. “Why yea even care?”

“Why do I? Why do you?” Carol gave him a questioning look as she crosses her arms. “Others may be clueless but there’s more to you and her than what the rest of us see”

Now Carol didn’t know what they did behind a closed door, but it wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out either. She did know there was something more emotional between the two and a lot of denial from one end regarding it. Y/N is good at covering her feelings until she can’t anymore, while Daryl denies the fact he has any.

“You care about her. I’m not gonna say the L word but the bond you two have can be of such”

“I don’t think so” Daryl’s words struck like one of his arrows through Y/N’s chest. “Must be…imagining things” he felt pain grow in his chest when saying that, why can’t he just admit it? What’s there to lose?

Her. Seeing her every morning. Seeing her smile as she held the youngest Grimes. Seeing her help those working the fence when it’s not her shift for their little clinic. Seeing her watching the stars at night that lead to more.

Daryl didn’t understand the distance that grew between the two. He didn’t want to pry about it thinking Y/N needed a break from their physical relationship. When the reality of it, she didn’t want to face him after the indirect rejection. She was heartbroken and put that pain into overworking.

That when the illness came through, she was last to enter A-Block…

“Is she breathing?” Hershel asks as Rick lays the doc down on one of the bunks on the second floor where Glenn resides.

“Yeah, but she hasn’t woken up…” Rick frowns getting her situated as Daryl suddenly came storming in. “She was collapsed in her cell. We heard it when Hershel was patching up my hand”

“She has no head injury but she is sick. We shouldn’t be in here any longer”

“I need a minute” Daryl states watching their faces contort into concern as his turned into anger. “One. Fucking. Minute.”

The two listened as long as Daryl didn’t take off his mask that happened to be his bandana. He knew he had to leave on the medicine run soon but he was the last to hear about this. The space was broken when Y/N helped Caleb get the list of medication for Daryl and those joining him to grab such. He didn’t know in that moment she was struggling, now they’re here.

The archer knelt beside her bed brushing the hair out of the way of her face. Taking in every feature as if this could be their last moment.

“Carol was right…I love yea…I was just afraid of sayin’ anything” He frowns feeling a few tears slip. “Don’t die…I’ll come back. Get yea back on your feet…I need yea, honey”

She heard every word that came out of his mouth but was took weak to respond…and too exhausted to instantly wake up once the meds were inside her. But Daryl stayed by her side waiting for the moment she woke, then he was drawn to outside when commotion broke out. Before he left, he tied his bandana on her wrist as some form of sentiment that she’ll know once she’s awake.

But Y/N woke to the prison collapsed around her and the undead flooding in. She even suffered some collateral damage but just a head lac.

We lost everything

Where is everybody?

How long was I out

Where’s…

Where’s Daryl?!

Y/N managed to get out of the prison without getting caught in the hands of a walker. She did take one out that was in the main cellblock when she went to see if she could get some of her things and covered herself in its blood to blend in.

Her slow movements quickened when a car was approaching the gate so that they would know not to shoot. Thankfully…Carol stepped out and ran to Y/N embracing her immediately. Not caring about the blood.

“So…Rick made you leave?” Y/N asks sitting with Carol in the car after they drove until they ran out of gas. More so away from the infested prison.

“Mhm. I did what I thought was right”

“I don’t…I don’t blame yea for what you did. It was inevitable if we didn’t get the medicine in our people”

“Thank god you made it” Carol squeezed her hand watching her wince a bit but due to the head lac. “I can take care of that”

“You need more visualization. You’re gonna have to cut my hair…” Y/N sighs settling into the seat and more importantly the jacket she was given a long time ago. “At least make it short and badass like yours and not like a four year old got a hold of scissors” that got a laugh out of the both of them.

After taking care of that, the two managed to find or the girls Lizzie and Mika found them reuniting the two with Tyreese and Judith. The small group found a house and held up for the night…as the kids were asleep, the adults continued to enjoy the fireplace.

“Do you think he’s still alive?”

Carol looks at the worried expression on her friend’s face as she curls up on herself on the loveseat couch.

“Do you?”

“I don’t know…” Y/N frowns tugging at the sleeves of her coat trying her hardest not to fall apart at the thought that he could be dead without knowing how she felt. “When I was sick, before Daryl left to get medicine for our people…he told me that he loved me thinking I was out cold…and I don’t want to live the rest of my life without him ever knowing how I felt”

“We’ll find him. We’ll find the others…my sister…and Daryl, so you can tell him. And you better. This world needs some happiness in it out in the open” Tyreese smiles squeezing Y/N’s shoulder receiving her smile before going outside to take the first watch.

Carol waited till the door closed before bringing herself to sit on the floor using the couch Y/N was on to lean on. She gave her a look that only drew an anxious smile from the doc.

“Have you two been fucking all over the prison?”

“Oh more than the prison” Y/N laughs as Carol smacks her leg joining in on the laughter. “It took y’all forever to figure it out?”

“Oh I had my suspicions. The others still don’t fucking know” Carol scoffs playfully resting her head against the cushions. “But there was so much more to it. You two loved each other in the smallest of ways that who couldn’t just sit and watch it piece together. Daryl acted like a hurt puppy when you took space from him and I heard from Caleb that you couldn’t stand being away from a certain archer. You need each other in more ways than one”

The warm feeling hearing those words made Y/N’s smile last a while. She really does need him.

The group of six turned into four…due to the unthinkable that no one wants to relive. They were following the tracks when they ran into someone talking about their people.

“Be careful alright?”

“You as well” Carol states about to make her way to this sanctuary as she glares at their hostage. “Make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

It’s always the craziest people made in the apocalypse to think they are invincible. Martin, they’re hostage, thinking he was one of them.

When he threatened Judith’s life, both Y/N and Tyreese backed off. Tyreese being told to tie Y/N’s wrists together and forcing her to sit on the ground before being told to step out of the cabin. Right as Martin left Judith’s box he made his way to the door to check on Tyreese but was suddenly tackled to the ground by Y/N. Resulting in Tyreese rushing in finding the two wrestling on the ground.

“You have to be a moron to let someone I trust tie me up” Y/N snaps choking the guy as he suddenly takes his knife out and stabbed the doc in the arm but given she didn’t let up. He was done for.

Tyreese took care of Y/N’s wound as she held Judith while the two stared down the now dead hostage.

“You could’ve gotten hurt worse than this”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I got stabbed. And not in the new world” Y/N sighs resting her chin on top of Judith’s little head as she snuggles in her embrace while Tyreese finishes with the bandaging.

The group reformed, gained a few new friends that shared the horrors of Terminus. Carol lead the way to the cabin in the woods and as they draw closer, the door opened revealing Tyreese carrying Judith out of the house. Rick and Carl didn’t hesitate and booked it toward the two with Sasha following shortly behind.

Daryl held his head down after seeing the small reunion between two families. He only brought his attention back forward away from the ground when he heard the door to the cabin shut.

The doc was last to step out putting her coat back on on the way out seeing the large group as her heart beat grew faster when her eyes locked onto his. She didn’t even get far when the archer sprinted toward her and suddenly tackled her to the ground.

“Jesus Daryl. The poor girl is injured” Tyreese interrupts the two’s reunion as Daryl lifts himself to check for himself being met with her laughter instead.

“One hell of a reunion”

“Who hurt you? Who do I—-“

“Eh. Don’t worry. Already took care of him” Y/N laughs continuing to smile sitting up once Daryl move enough off of her for her to do so. “You look like hell…” her smile faltered resting her hand on his cheek feeling him lean into such.

“So do you…I thought I lost you” Daryl frowns kissing the palm of her hand.

Her soft laughs that he would listen to forever returned as she brought both of her hands on his face. “I had to keep living to tell yea I love you too Daryl Dixon” and with that he didn’t care about everyone watching as he brought his lips to hers enjoying the moment without any stress.

“They were something?” Maggie questions as Glenn couldn’t help his laugh escaping. “What?!”

“It was so obvious! If we weren’t taking the night watch, one of them always were and the other would surprisingly be outside”

“I didn’t know they were doin’ something” Rick adds in as Carl groans.

“That’s cuz you’re an idiot, dad”

“Rude”

The two broke their kiss because Y/N couldn’t stop laughing to what she was hearing. But hell, at least they don’t have to keep anything a secret anymore.

[v3nusxsky]

Hey Mars!! Hope you recovering well! I have a request for when you’re feeling better!

Jemily x female reader

Reader is overweight and insecure, also younger than JJ and Emily, kinda insecure to be in a relationship with them. Happy ending please ❤️

Perfectly plump| h&c

*Authors note~ I have missed writing sm so I thought I’d ease back into this with a Drabble that can be quite a subject at this time of year, so this is for all those people like me who suffer*

Trigger warnings~ Weight issues

Overweight. A term that’s bothered you since a young age, you couldn’t escape it really. You tried to get better, to be what society said you should be, but it led to unhealthy coping mechanisms and a dark spiral path that you were trying to climb back up. All through your training to join the FBI you were taunted on your weight, told to give up as you’d never make it in the field. But thankfully the BAU didn’t think like that, your grades were not exemplary and that’s what they wanted the most, to them your weight doesn’t matter. That is how you met the girls.

Garcia quickly became an ally, a safe haven for you to feel like a normal person. JJ was next to draw you in with her motherly instincts and comforting ways to encourage you to open up more with anyone but Garcia. Emily noticed the problem early on but she knew just how hard it is to let your guard down and was happy to let you open up in your own time. It took some time but eventually you broke down with JJ and Emily as you all ended up sharing a hotel room. The subject of food had your anxiety sky high and you just couldn’t take it anymore. But the women just held you as you cried, group hugging you as they whispered words of comfort and praise to you. Truly, they found you beautiful, inside and out and now was the chance to show you.

That was how you found yourself curled up on Emily’s chest, her slender fingers trailing through your soft locks as JJ ordered you all some food, she guessed asking would upset you more so she used her basic information on you and ordered for you. It was something she was use to doing for Emily when she struggled. When the food arrived you broke down again, the thought and care that went into a small act had you feeling like maybe just maybe it was okay to be your weight. “Em, I don’t wanna get big” you whimpered into her neck.

“You won’t get big pretty girl, you need to eat for us, being in the field is hard enough with plenty of energy” she murmured back looking to her lover for help. If this is how JJ felt with her then she now had a new outlook on just how hard it is. “It’s okay darling, me and Em are gonna eat with you, you can even stay snuggled up on Em here, just eat what you can manage love.” The comforting actions and tones of their voices had you lulling into a safe space where you did eventually eat. That night the women let you snuggle up with them on the bed, now clinging to Emily while JJ rubbed your back. “I love you” you sleepily murmured out causing the older women to smile, “we love you too sweetheart more than you will ever know” they whispered back at the same time.

[nickeverdeen]

Hey, can I please have a romantic and platonic Arcane matchup?

I'm a girl (she / her pronouns), and I'm sapphic.

My favorite artist is Ado, and my favorite songs are Readymade, The ballad of Sara Berry, and Dead girl walking.

In my free time I like to draw, sing, play videogames (my favorites are Stardew valley and genshin impact), sew, write, and bake.

In school I'm a biotechnology major, and a chemistry minor, outside of school I go to voice lessons, and aerial silks classes.

I'm rather shy and anxious when it comes to social interactions, but when I trust and get along with someone I open up rather quickly, but I have a hard time actually talking to and trusting people because I was bullied (twice) when I was younger.

I can be quite emotional sometimes.

My favorite shows are Arcane, Catlevania, and Chainsaw man.

My favorite animal is cats, and I have two: a tabby 6 years old cat named Tori, and an orange 1 year old cat named Sunny, and I love them to death.

I can also be kinda stubborn, and I definitely have some anger issues, but I mostly let it out in private.

When it comes to my style I'm definitely more feminine.

I'm 5'0, light skinned, have green eyes, medium length brown curly hair.

My MBTI is infp, and my zodiac sign is a cancer.

I'm kinda awkward when I have to write about myself so I'm sorry if this is a bit scattered.

Have a great day.

Your romantic Arcane match is…

Caitlyn Kiramman

Caitlyn would be incredibly supportive of your artistic talents

Whether you’re drawing, singing, or writing, she’d be there to encourage and admire your work

Caitlyn’s calm and collected demeanor would help soothe your anxiety and make you feel more at ease in social situations

She’d love spending time with you baking or playing video games like Stardew Valley, appreciating the peacefulness of these activities

She’s not a great baker so she’d mainly be a taste chef or passing you things

Caitlyn would understand your past bullying experiences and be patient in building trust, always offering a listening ear and gentle reassurance

Your voice lessons and aerial silks classes would intrigue her, and she’d love to watch your performances, cheering you on with genuine enthusiasm

Caitlyn’s empathetic nature would make her a great shoulder to cry on when you’re feeling emotional, providing comfort and understanding

She’d adore your cats, Tori and Sunny, and often bring them treats and toys

Trust me she’s a cat person

Your biotechnology major and chemistry minor would fascinate her, leading to many deep, intellectually stimulating conversations

Caitlyn would plan elegant dates that match your feminine style, such as a fancy dinner or a night at the opera

She’d help you manage your anger issues with patience and kindness, offering constructive ways to channel your emotions

Your shared love for shows would give you both plenty to discuss and bond over

Caitlyn would encourage your personal growth and self-confidence, helping you become more comfortable and secure in your own skin

Caitlyn’s protective nature would make you feel safe and cherished, knowing she always has your back

She’d appreciate your feminine style and often compliment your appearance, making you feel beautiful and appreciated

And you are

Caitlyn would love both your strength and vulnerability, seeing you as a multifaceted, incredible person

She’d be a patient listener, always ready to hear about your day

Your platonic Arcane match is…

Vi (Violet)

Vi would be fiercely protective of you, making sure no one ever hurts you again like the bullies did

She’d love to join you in active hobbies like aerial silks, appreciating the physical challenge and fun

She’s an amazing gaming buddy

Vi would enjoy playing video games with you, especially ones like Genshin Impact where you can team up and strategize together

She also likes more agressive ones, but respects your wishes about not so agressive ones

She’d be a great listener when you need to vent about your emotions or anger, offering understanding and solidarity

Vi would encourage your creative pursuits, always eager to see your latest drawing or hear your new song

She’d get along great with your cats, often coming over just to spend time with them and you

Although she’s more of a dog person so she wouldn’t get so good along with them like Caitlyn, but she’s trying

Your mutual love for shows like Chainsaw Man would lead to many discussions and bonding moments

Vi would love to see you bake, enjoying the process and, of course, the tasty results

She’d be fascinated by your biotechnology and chemistry knowledge, asking questions and showing genuine interest

She’d give up as soon as she’d realize that she doesn’t understand shit, though

Vi would be a fun and supportive shopping friend, helping you find the best thrift deals and unique pieces

Vi would be your emotional anchor, offering strength and stability when you need it most

[theintrovertbean]

Remember when I posted this? This is what I meant when I said I was writing something about high heels.

Summary: Nadia has beautiful legs and y/n wholeheartedly agrees.

This isn't smut, but there's some naughtiness implied. So, just to be safe, minors DNI.

Linguistics classes are boring, so I spend them writing about Nadia instead 🤗 That's just what I do, write adult content when I should be paying attention to my seminars. I will keep doing it.

I wrote like half of this at uni instead of listening to whatever the fuck that class was, and my friend sitting next to me was like o.o when they looked at my phone. But the bitch is back (no, not really, I'm just blessing you with a crumb of content before I retreat to my hiding again.) Anyway, I thought I'd give myself a break and write for the sake of writing about something that doesn't give me anxiety, and what's better than Nadia's legs to ease my stress? Damn, that rhymes. Don't mind my little vent, idk why I'm even writing this but it's almost 3 am and I no longer care.

Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy it. Have a good one, simps!

Heeled Seduction (Nadia x Reader)

She's a strong, smart woman. She can take care of herself and she doesn't need help. But when I watch her undress and then put on her extravagant gown for the upcoming event, I can't help but notice her high heels waiting for her to put them on. I remind myself that no, she does not need help with something so trivial, but the more I entertain the thought, the more tempting it becomes.

She sits down on a plush chair and pushes a stray piece of hair behind her ear. My heart melts at the sight of her, but if I want to do this, then this is my chance.

"Nadia," I call out her name. It comes naturally to me at this point as she's had me cry out her name in pleasure countless times.

She looks at me with curiosity in her intense gaze. "Yes, love?"

I don't answer. I simply walk toward her and then lower myself onto one knee in front of her. My Countess raises an eyebrow, the corners of her lips curling up into one of those cheeky smiles that I love so much. She watches me with interest, awaiting my next move.

I gently lift her foot and guide it into the shoe, my fingers brushing against her delicate skin and I can feel her shiver beneath my touch. Having such an effect on the embodiment of perfection, on a goddess like her, fills me with pride.

"Oh my," She begins with a smile. "How attentive of you, my darling. Allow me to assist you."

Then she grabs a fistful of her dress, slowly, teasingly lifting it higher to give me better access. She reveals her strong thigh, only to my eyes, and I have to gulp. Inch by inch, she tortures me with her beauty. I'm quite certain she knows that she doesn't have to lift it so high. My sweet, loving Nadia—always teasing me at every chance she gets.

Encouraged by her seduction, I put my hand on her other leg, fingers caressing and massaging her strong calf gently. "Have I ever told you," I lean forward, pressing a kiss onto her skin right under her knee. "how beautiful your legs are?"

"Hm, I don't think you have," My Countess answers, the tone of her voice warm and low and the smile on her face playful but loving. "Why don't you elaborate?"

"Well, your skin is so soft here," I say and lift her leg, putting it over my shoulder. "I love how it feels against my mouth. So delicate and smooth." When I brush my lips against her thigh and my breath caresses her, I can see her clutching the armrest just a little tighter. "But your legs are also very strong." I rest my hand on the side of her thigh, drawing circles into it with my thumb. "Perfect for..." I drag my lips across her skin, going higher and higher until I can feel the heat radiating from her core. "Smothering."

My love chuckles and I look up to see her cheeks colored with a blush. "Aah, yes, they'd look so beautiful around your head."

"They certainly would," I smirk against her inner thigh and I'm certain she wants nothing more than for me to continue. "But!" I exclaim and put her leg down, shifting my body away from hers. "We have a party to attend. The rest can wait."

I swear I can hear her mutter a small damn you, y/n under her breath while I quickly put on her other high heel. When I finish, I immediately feel her fingers grasping my chin, guiding me to look up at her. "When it is done, I hope you intend to use that teasing, wicked mouth of yours for something more pleasurable," She whispers to me, and I can already feel my cheeks burning under her gaze. Here, at the feet of my mistress, my countess, my love, I feel a sense of belonging.

"If that's what milady wishes."