#limbo jewelry

[deansraspberrypie]

Danneel modeling the Link Collection 💖💎👑

🍰 Tag list: @undisputedchick2 @jranutter @kazsrm67 🥧

[dogwwater]

I have so many hobbies and not enough time to monetize them

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

SILLY LITTLE BAT

pairings ⸺ Yandere! Platonic! Batfamily x Anti-Hero! Fem!reader.

sinopsis ⸺ In the shadowed halls of Wayne Manor, a girl lost among the darkness seeks the connection she never had. Her mother, a kleptomaniac with a broken heart, vanished, leaving only echoes of empty promises. Surrounded by a family that never sees her, her pain turns into a deafening silence. The void left by her past traps her in a limbo of solitude and sorrow.

One dark night, seeking her own way, she became what she once despised. Now, like the albino bat rejected by its own flock, she flies alone in the twilight. Her pale skin glows in the dark, but her heart still yearns for the warmth of a home she never came to know.

warnings ⸺ Dark Themes, Dead, murdering,Disturbing Content, Unhealthy Obsession, Discrimination, Violence, Blood, LGBT Content, Child Abuse, Kidnapping, Implicit Sexual Content, Mental Illness, Addiction, Suicide, Torture, Corruption, Isolation, Trauma, Phobias, Paranoia, Manipulation

Chapter Guide! Pt 2. Pt 3. Pt4

A/N — English is not my first language—Spanish is—so there might be some grammar or spelling mistakes here and there. This is the first part of a story I’m writing for a friend (Isabel, I love you, you brat), and also an experiment to see what it’s like to write on Tumblr. Please support me! :"((

Nobody is coming to save you

Get up.

Your mother was not a good woman, and that was an undeniable fact, heavy as the shadow that covers Gotham City at nightfall. She was a creature of the underworld, one among the specters that wandered under the yoke of crime, walking among dangerous names like Selina Kyle or Harleen Quinzel, yet always remaining in the background, never reaching their fame or infamy.

She was nothing more than a kleptomaniac and a mythomaniac, doomed to live by cunning and deceit. She took advantage of the men who crossed her path, from the lowest criminals, like The Penguin, to the most powerful man in the city: Bruce Wayne.

You never called him Dad. To you, he was always Bruce, and on the rare occasions you addressed him, you did so with distant formality, "Mr. Wayne." Richard, your adoptive brother, found in him a father figure, while to you, he was just another shadow in the mansion, that huge, cold house you arrived at after your mother’s death.

You remember how, time and again, you tried to warn your mother to stop stealing, to stop lying, that those dark paths would inevitably lead her to Arkham Asylum, surrounded by all the lunatics you feared so much, or even worse: to death. But she always responded with a playful smile, stroking your head with her delicate hands, adorned with stolen jewelry and crude tattoos. "Those are just fantasies of an eight-year-old girl," she would say sweetly, while her ring-laden fingers assured you that you needn’t worry, "I will always come back for you," she promised, "because you are the only thing more valuable than any diamond I’ve ever held."

But the cruel truth was that was the last time you saw her. That night she left, and she never returned. It was then that the last vestiges of innocence faded with her absence. From that moment on, you ceased to be a child.

And that was one of the few things you understood with absolute clarity. There were no more empty promises, no more caresses tinged with lies. All that remained was the silence of a life fading away, like a stolen jewel that never returns to its rightful owner.

The only thing you knew after calling the police when your mother didn’t show up after two days was that they found her corpse in a back alley far from Gotham, showing signs of having been beaten and bruised by some underground gang.

Commissioner Gordon searched the entire house for illicit substances and signs of debts to mobsters, but he only ended up finding documents, stolen jewelry, and letters from your mother that were never sent, and most importantly, DNA evidence implicating that the city’s millionaire was your biological father.

From then on, your life was stained with eternal gray, that muted shade that erased all traces of light or shadow. There was no more white or black, only a silent fog that, day by day, enveloped you and dragged you into a madness that seemed inevitable. Gotham itself seemed more alive than the place you called home, although "home" was never the right word.

You didn’t love any of the Wayne family members. Bruce, your biological father, never listened to you. To him, you were always just another shadow, a ghost in the vast mansion that he prioritized over his other children, his "true" heirs. There was always something more important, something more urgent, and your presence faded among the cold walls and the echo of his hurried footsteps. With each passing day, you became more invisible to him, as if your very existence were a mistake he preferred to ignore.

Richard, the perfect brother, was kind on some occasions. He spoke to you courteously, but when you needed him, when you asked him to attend one of your performances, there was always an excuse, something that kept him away, as if your passion and accomplishments were insignificant details in his heroic life.

Jason, on the other hand, despised you from the start. He saw you as an intruder, a child of gold—but not of that pure and valuable gold, but of a dirty and false one, which he always mocked with disdain. And although you never cared for him, when he died, silent tears rolled down your face. It wasn’t out of love, but out of respect for what he represented, for the brutal reality of his fall.

Tim, in contrast, was the most indifferent. To him, you were a nobody, so irrelevant that you weren’t even worth a glance. Spending time with his friends or being the Robin of the moment mattered more than you did. You lived on his periphery, in a limbo where neither your name nor your face seemed to exist.

Cassandra, Stephanie, Barbara… at least they treated you with politeness, but you knew they didn’t really remember who you were. They saw you, smiled at you out of obligation, but deep down you knew they had no idea of your name, your story, your struggle to be more than a shadow in that world.

The worst of all was Damian, your younger half-brother. When he arrived at the mansion, Alfred introduced him to you with that serene formality he always had, and you, driven by an almost desperate impulse, tried to reach out to him. You wanted to offer him the support and affection of an older sister, that warmth you would have longed for in his situation. But all you received in return was a cold response: a katana piercing your abdomen. I wish I could say it was just a metaphor, but no, that wound was as real as the blade that cut your skin.

You would have liked to think that the pain was symbolic, that Damian had only rejected your affection with harsh words or his usual arrogance. But no, it was much more than that. The only thing you received in exchange for your attempt at fraternal love was a stab, a scar you still carry not only on your body but also in your soul. Because in that brutal gesture, you understood that the blood that united you also separated you, sharper than any weapon. And that was how you tried to connect.

You strived to stand out, to learn, to shine in your own ambitions, wishing that your success would be enough to earn you a place, a bit of affection. But no matter how hard you tried, it was never enough. Your talent crashed against indifference, your achievements faded into the air, as if they had no weight in the lives of others.

The only light, the only beacon in that storm of gray, was Alfred. The only one who smiled at you with genuine tenderness, the only one you truly loved. To you, he was the real father, the one who was always there, expecting nothing in return, offering you a silent but firm love. You did call him father, and his presence was the only thing that kept your sanity, the only thing preventing the gray from consuming you completely.

But even that love, so genuine and deep, was not enough to fill the void that your own family left you. And in that void, you continue to float, trapped between the girl you were and the woman you are trying to be, searching for a place you can truly call home.

Y/n's small room, though modest, had always been her refuge. The walls were adorned with unfinished sketches, trophies from various activities, and some paintings she had completed with dedication, showcasing her passion for both manual and performing arts.

The dawn light filtered softly through the curtains, bathing the space in golden tones, giving it a warmth that contrasted with the coldness of the rest of Wayne Manor.

On the desk, a small cake rested on a plate, simple yet made with love. Beside it, Alfred, with his usual understated elegance, watched Y/n with a mixture of nostalgia and concern. He, the only one who seemed to remember her birthday, offered her a delicate professional drawing set, wrapped in smooth, elegant paper.

"Happy birthday, Miss," Alfred said with a gentle smile, although his eyes reflected a sadness that was hard to conceal. "I know how much you love art, so I thought this would be helpful for your new projects."

Y/n took the gift in her hands with a genuine smile. It had been so hard for her to find moments of joy lately, but Alfred's gesture filled her with a warmth in her chest that she hadn't experienced in a long time. She placed the gift into one of the many brown boxes she had prepared for her upcoming move.

"Thank you, Alfred. It's perfect," she said, examining the set carefully, as if each detail were a reminder of the affection he held for her. "It will help me a lot... although, well," she sighed, as if searching for the right words. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that." Alfred raised an eyebrow, attentive, as she continued, glancing at the small space that had been her home within the vast mansion.

"Today... today is not just my birthday. It's the day I leave here." Her voice was firm, yet there was a sense of liberation in it, as if this were a long-awaited step. "I am finally no longer a Wayne. I go back to being a L/n."

Silence filled the room for a moment, heavy and dense. Alfred clasped his hands, striving to maintain his composure.

"Miss, I can't help but feel a certain unease hearing this. Are you sure this is what you want? This house, though empty in many ways, has always been your home..."

"Home?" Y/n looked at him with a mix of sadness and determination. "This house has never been my home, Alfred. Not like it was for Dick, nor even for Bruce. I have always been a stranger here, the daughter of a woman who never fit into this world, the bastard child. My mother taught me to find my own path, to not cling to what doesn’t belong to me... and being here, being called Wayne, has never belonged to me." Alfred sighed softly, turning his gaze toward the window. He knew there was truth in her words, but that didn’t lessen the pain of her leaving. "I know it’s hard to understand," Y/n continued, "but for the first time in a long time, I feel happy, Alfred. I’ve graduated, college is just around the corner, and I want to start anew. I want to find what truly makes me, me... not what others expect of me."

The old butler remained silent for a few moments, nodding slowly. He knew he couldn't retain her, that it was not his place to interfere in the young woman's dreams. But still, he couldn’t help but feel a pang in his heart at the thought of the house being even emptier without her. "I just wish you find what you’re looking for, Miss. And if you ever need a place to return to... this door will always be open for you."

Y/n stepped closer to him, gently hugging him, something she had rarely done. "Thank you, Alfred," she whispered against his shoulder. "You will always be my family, but I need this. I need to discover who I am outside of this last name."

The old butler felt the lump in his throat as he tightened the embrace a little longer before letting her go. He knew that deep down, she was doing the right thing. But that didn’t make it hurt any less to see her leave.

"Alfred, can you call the movers? I’ll be leaving tonight," Y/n said as she closed the last box with trembling hands, her gaze lost in the empty corners of the room she once considered her refuge. The butler, ever serene, nodded with his unwavering calmness.

"Don't worry, Miss, I assure you they will be here on time." His voice was soft, almost an echo of the ancient walls of the mansion, as if he himself were part of that structure that had seen so many comings and goings, so many lives broken and healed in silence.

Alfred turned halfway to leave, but Y/n's voice stopped him, broken yet sweet, like a melody at sunset. "Alfred..."

The man turned slowly, his eyes filled with paternal warmth, though always contained behind a formal gesture. "Yes, Miss?" he replied, with that tranquility that had always brought Y/n peace in her worst moments.

She took a breath, feeling how the words she had kept for so long fought to come out, to break the shell she had built since childhood. "I’ve never told you, but... thank you. Thank you for being the father I never had, for being there when no one else was."

For a moment, the silence in the room was heavier than all the accumulated boxes, deeper than any word. Alfred, who had been a witness to so many confessions and secrets in that house, stood still, his eyes shining with an emotion he rarely showed. "Miss," he murmured, his voice slightly choked, "it was an honor and a privilege to take care of you. If I ever gave you anything close to what you deserved, then my life has had true purpose."

Y/n smiled sadly, nodding slowly. "You did, Alfred. You did. And for that, I will always carry you with me, even if I leave here."

The butler slightly bowed his head in respect, swallowing any emotion that might betray his composure. "Wherever you go, you will always have a home here, Miss."

"I know," she said, though in her heart, she knew she wouldn’t return.

And as Alfred left the room to make the call, Y/n let out a long sigh, as if with it, she were leaving behind a part of herself, a part she could no longer carry with her.

Life in Gotham is like constantly walking on the edge of a razor blade. The city never sleeps, always alert, always dangerous, and for someone with the Wayne surname, the risks multiply. It has been a year since you left the mansion, trying to erase any ties that bound you to that life, desperately wishing the name would fade into the echo of the dirty streets and crumbling buildings. But it's not that easy. The name Wayne remains an indelible mark that the media and the people of Gotham refuse to let fade. The forgotten child, the silent accident of billionaire Bruce Wayne. And although you try to live as if you don’t exist under that shadow, the weight of the legacy haunts you.

You left with little, barely enough money to rent a small apartment in one of the worst corners of the city. You share the space with a friend, a plant-loving girl who has filled every nook of the place with leaves and pots, as if trying to make green defy the constant darkness of Gotham. You get along well with her; her love for nature is almost an antithesis to the chaos of the city, and she has taught you that even in the hardest concrete, something can bloom. She always accompanied you on the coldest, loneliest nights, giving you a warmth that, although ethereal, was very welcome. But still, life is not easy. You barely survive, spending the little you have on cheap food and paying the rent. There are days when the cold seeps through the poorly sealed windows, and you wonder if it was really better to be in the mansion instead of this little trench. However, you prefer this rough freedom to the soulless luxury of Wayne Manor.

Freedom, however, comes at a price. It wasn't enough to distance yourself, to change your life, or even to always carry a knife for defense. Gotham does not forget. People recognize you in the shadows, whisper your name, and approach you, sometimes with curiosity and other times with disdain. You have been beaten more than once. Some just for being a Wayne, others because they think they can extort you, even though they have no idea you can barely get by. The scars on your body bear witness to those beatings, but you refuse to give up. You get up every morning, despite the pain, and continue on your way. You don’t need Batman. You don’t need Bruce. You learned long ago that he wouldn't come to save you.

That night, like so many others, you were heading to the subway for your night shift, with the hood of your coat covering your face, trying to go unnoticed. The sound of the tracks echoed in your ears, a constant reminder of the city's hustle. You had gotten used to walking fast, avoiding eye contact, as if each step was a small battle won against the city. But this time, something was different.

"So it was true, the little Wayne girl is roaming the city... how lovely." The raspy, mocking voice rang out beside you, cutting through the heavy air of the train station. The man speaking wore a suit that, at first glance, seemed elegant, but there was something about his extreme thinness, his skin clinging to his bones and his disheveled hair, that made him look more like a specter of Gotham than a distinguished figure. A ghost from the shadows that had stalked you since you set foot on the streets.

If it weren't for his gaunt appearance and unsettling aura, you might have mistaken him for one of your father's employees. "I'm not a Wayne anymore," you said disdainfully, your voice sharp like the edge of a dagger refusing to be touched. "If you want money, I don’t have any. And Mr. Wayne wouldn’t give a cent for me either."

Your gaze drifted to the station clock. 8 minutes until the train that would take you away from this corner of Gotham, far from the shadows and faces that always seemed to recognize you.

The man let out a dry, raspy laugh that sent chills down your spine. "I don’t want your money, pretty girl," he replied, moving closer, invading your space with the same familiarity that Gotham’s filth slipped into every corner. "You’re worth more than that." You felt his calloused, scarred hand rest on your hip, with a pressure that was neither violent nor friendly. The contact filled you with disgust.

7 minutes.

You clenched your fist, your jaw tight as you struggled to maintain your composure. "I don’t want sex either, idiot," you spat, your words loaded with contained fury. Your hand subtly slid toward your bag, where your knife lay, waiting to be used.

6 minutes.

The man didn’t flinch. In fact, he let out a low, mocking laugh. "And I don’t want that either, little girl," he murmured, his cold, deep blue eyes scrutinizing you as if they could read every dark corner of your soul. "I want something more from you."

5 minutes.

"What do you want then?" you asked, forcing yourself to keep your voice steady, even as the ice of fear began to creep down your spine. Your eyes scrutinized him, searching his gaze for any hint of his true intentions, but all you saw was darkness.

4 minutes.

He let out a long, chilling laugh, tightening his grip on your hip. "Do you know what I want, Y/n?"

3 minutes.

His voice dropped, as if his words were a cursed secret the wind refused to carry away. "I want you."

2 minutes.

The world seemed to stop. You knew there was no time to run. There was no time to pull out the knife or to scream. It was as if the clock itself had conspired against you, reducing those last minutes to mere seconds.

1 minute.

The blow was sharp, a flash of excruciating pain at the back of your head. The cold metal of the station, the hum of the city, everything faded abruptly. The last thought that crossed your mind, before the world vanished into darkness, was that this time, you didn’t expect Batman to save you. It wasn’t a mere thief or a street threat that was taking you.

Gotham, with all its cruelty, always had new ways to remind you that there is no escape.

That night, when the Gotham subway stopped at the station, there was no one to pick up.

The mansion felt emptier than ever, like a deserted and cold labyrinth, where each hallway seemed to stretch into an infinite tunnel, devouring the light.

The silence was overwhelming, an oppression that enveloped every corner, as if even the ancient walls had run out of words. It was so heavy that the few who remained in the mansion couldn’t help but move uncomfortably, trying to fill that void with something, anything.

Bruce Wayne walked through those same hallways with a strange feeling, as if something was missing, though he didn’t know what. An unease, a persistent discomfort that he couldn’t shake off.

He had been like this for months, with that absence haunting his mind, a gap he couldn't identify. And then, suddenly, like a gust of icy wind, the truth struck him.

You.

His daughter.

His little daughter.

How long had it been since he last saw you? When was the last time he heard your laughter, the one that always seemed too sarcastic, too filled with resentment? He stopped abruptly, frowning. Why couldn’t he remember you? He couldn’t bring to mind a clear image of your face, not even how you used to look at him... why? How could he have forgotten you like that?

Damn.

It was as if time had stopped. It had been a year, maybe more, since he had really thought about you. He felt a pang of guilt pierce his chest, a heavy, silent guilt that dragged him into the abyss of his own negligence. Not knowing what else to do, he began to check the rooms, one after another.

Each door he opened was another blow to his conscience. Where was your room? The more he searched, the more confused he felt. The mansion was enormous, but how could he have forgotten where you slept? How was it possible that he didn’t know where you lived in the house where both of you grew up? Had you been here all this time?

Each door he opened was identical to the last, as if all the rooms had fused into one.

None showed a trace of you.

None seemed to have a hint of your presence. Didn’t you decorate your room? He thought frantically, didn’t you even mark it as yours? Panic began to take hold of him. Anxiety wrapped around him like a fist tightening on his chest. Were you still living in the mansion? Or had you left without saying a word, like a shadow fading at dawn? But... no, you hadn’t mentioned anything. You hadn’t said you were leaving. Or had you? And if you had, why didn’t he remember? How could he have ignored you for so long that now he didn’t even know if you were still under the same roof?

“Ah!” he exclaimed in a whisper, unable to contain the dread he felt.

Frustration consumed him from within. He stopped in the middle of the hallway, breathing heavily, and the echo of his voice faded into the empty walls. He tried to remember something, anything about you, about the last time they spoke, about how you were... but everything was blurry, as if his mind was betraying him, hiding you behind an impenetrable fog.

How could he have forgotten so much?

He brought his hands to his head, trying to calm himself, but only felt more confusion, more desperation. The mansion, which had once been his home, now felt like a strange and foreign place.

Had you been the one who made it feel like home? The question echoed in his mind, but he had no answer. Just more questions. More uncertainties. Finally, he let his arms fall, exhausted. He had checked almost all the rooms and had found not a trace of you. Not a clue. Not a sign that you had been there. And at that moment, something dark and painful began to settle in his heart.

Had you ever really been there?

Then something caught his attention as he passed by the cleaning room. In a dusty corner, next to a forgotten bag, something was protruding. Something small, old, and faded. He bent down and pulled it from the dirty clothes. It was a stuffed animal, or what was left of one. The faded black of its suit left no doubt. It was a figure of Batman, but worn down by time, battered to the point of looking forgotten.

Bruce's eyes were fixed on the small piece of fabric hanging from the doll's neck. A tag.

Your name.

Your name, handwritten, in ink that was already fading.

Bruce felt a lump in his throat, a mix of guilt and rage. How could he have forgotten something so important?

He clutched the doll tightly, as if doing so would return a piece of you to him, but instead of comfort, he only felt more emptiness. Where were you? He ran to Alfred, who looked at him with a mix of concern and pity.

"Alfred..." Bruce said, his voice breaking. "Where is she? Where is my daughter?"

The butler, with his always serene face, seemed to age suddenly. A long silence settled between them, as if time was fading away. "Mr. Bruce, I didn’t mean to..." Alfred lowered his gaze. "I didn’t want to burden you with that truth, but... it’s time you know."

Bruce felt a chill run down his spine. Truth? What truth?

"She left almost a year ago. She didn’t say where. She just... she took all her belongings, though they weren’t many, and left. She said she didn’t want to be a burden. That you and the other family members had too many things to worry about."

Bruce took a step back, as if the words had physically struck him. Did she have enough age to leave? A burden? Never, not for a second, did he think that of you, of his little daughter who, even though she wasn’t wanted, he embraced under his wing just like Damian.

You were never a burden.

...or were you?

No, he refused to acknowledge it; he just... he hadn’t spent time with you because Gotham needed him!

But when you needed him, where was Batman?

Where was Bruce Wayne when his only biological daughter needed him?

"Alfred, do you know anything about Y/n?" the hero asked, worry clear on his face.

Alfred didn’t look at him; he only stared into nothingness. "...I haven’t heard anything about her for two months...

And honestly... I'm starting to think...

that she might be lost to us forever..."

A/N — This is definitely apart from being my first official Tumblr post, it is also my first DC post and especially the first from the Lord of the Night xD

Don't hesitate to ask me anything if you want.

Isabel, I dedicate this to you, my love. Eat more to be well, you fucking anorexic, don't suck.

take a bath!

inspiration: @acid-ixx with his Again & Again series, @gotham-daydreams' work, @i-cant-sing's work and @klemen-tine's work, be sure to check them out!

[taesanrot]

[earrings] anton x f!reader | 1.5k words fwb!anton, secret relationship kinda, theyre in a bit of a limbo hehe syn. in which anton accidently leaves behind evidence of his stay last night note. first anton au hehe, also my first riize fic in a minute. hope u guys r enjoying this series so far :)

now playing: earrings by malcolm todd

"her love is your head, you lost your earrings in her bed"

anton was fucked, he was sure of that. it only took a glance at his reflection in the mirror to notice the jewelry he was missing, his usual earrings nowhere to be seen.

hand shooting up to feel his jewelry-less earlobes, he sighed and massaged his temples slowly. it was barely 10 in the morning, and he'd just trudged back to his place after being shooed out of your apartment.

you and anton were … complicated, for a lack of better terms. if the two of you were being honest, you'd say you were talking — although you definitely did a lot more than that when you were together.

anton didn't mind the slower pace; he wasn't itching to jump into anything super quickly, and he enjoyed getting to know you bit by bit.

what he struggled with a little more was you requesting to keep things between the two of you a secret. your friend circles were pretty much merged, and you weren't super keen on letting them in on your escapades with the taller boy just yet.

this meant quiet excuses away from larger functions, meeting up to walk to one of your places, and panicked morning afters.usually he had until at least noon to make his way back to his own place, but today you'd promised your friends that you'd study for a calculus exam with them.

anton groaned and whined when you'd shaken him awake at nine in the morning, saying something about some people coming over in an hour. he could barely hear over his exhaustion, eyes bleary as he looked at your face hovering above him.

you were trying to explain that his friends were on their way but all he could focus on was the strands of your soft hair falling in his face and how good you smelled. you eventually herded the poor boy out of your apartment, sending him on his way back home with a wet kiss to his cheek and a protein bar.

what neither of you seemed to remember were anton's earrings sitting in the small tray on your nightstand. they were the earrings he wore everywhere — gold links with his initials engraved on the front.

over time, anton made a habit of taking them off and placing them on your nightstand before getting in bed with you. the two of you learned the hard way that keeping them on in bed was not a good idea; the second time anton came over, your hair had gotten tangled in the metal and he almost lost an earlobe.

groggily pulling his phone out of his pocket, anton debated sending you a text. he typed it out before hesitating. what if someone looked at your phone screen and saw the text from him? how would you explain yourself? frustrated, anton shut his phone off and tossed it onto his bed.

god, anton hated sneaking around. but he liked you, more than he'd like to admit, and the last thing he wanted was go against what you asked of him. he just hoped that no one would notice the earrings before going to take a shower.

...

"morning." seunghan greeted you cheerfully as you answered the door. shotaro and sohee followed after, waving at you before walking into your apartment.

"sup, ning." as you shut the door you heard shotaro greet ningning, who had arrived 10 minutes earlier and was sitting in your living room.

eventually, the 5 of you migrated to your bedroom to study — you, ningning, and sohee were sprawled across the floor while shotaro and seunghan sat on your bed. your calculus notes were strewn about, having studied for what felt like days.

yawning and stretching his arms, seunghan sat up a bit, taking his attention off of the chapter you guys were reviewing. the rest of you were chattering with each other, reviewing a practice problem that was particularly confusing.

"ugh, what time is it?" he mumbled, leaning over to look at the clock on your nightstand. his phone was somewhere in your blankets and his notes, and he wasn't keen on looking for it.

before his eyes could drift to your alarm clock sitting on the nightstand, his attention was caught by something shiny glinting at his eyes.

your focus was pulled from your notes as you heard a soft gasp from the direction of your bed. looking up, your eyes widened at the sight in front of you.

seunghan had one of anton's earrings in his fingers, eyes squinting as he inspected it curiously.

"are these anton's?" he asked suspiciously, turning to look at you. his lips were curled slightly upwards, clearly amused by the discovery. your cheeks burned in embarrassment as you stumbled over your words, not knowing what to say.

"uh-" before you could deny it, sohee interjected.

"they totally are! he wears those like every day!" sohee exclaimed. shotaro and ningning also looked up from their work, both of them giggling at how obviously flustered you were.

"no they're not, those are mine." you mumbled unconvincingly, cringing at how bad your lie was.

"you're lying! i can see his initials on them!" seunghan was leaning across the bed to show the rest of your friends, all of them nodding in agreement.

"y/n why do you have those?" ningning's head tilted confusedly as she turned in your direction. after a beat of silence, a look of realization passed across shotaro's face.

"he was here, wasn't he?" he asked, the knowing smile on his face growing even bigger. you choked on your spit at his question, coughing lightly.

"what are you talking about?" sohee rolled his eyes and seunghan laughed loudly at your weak response.

"hyung's right, he totally was here!"

"did he spend the night?"

"oh my god y/n did you guys fuck?"

"ok, enough!" you spoke up, finally finding your voice. you gulped nervously before continuing. "yes, anton was here last night. we've been seeing each other for a while."

you let out the biggest breath, one you didn't even know you were holding as the words escaped your mouth. seunghan was the first one to break the silence following your announcement.

"i fucking knew it!" he exclaimed, taking you by surprise.

"huh?" you asked, perplexed.

"you know you guys aren't that subtle right?" ningning laughed as she spoke, ruffling your hair gently. "we all noticed you two leaving every function together."

"not to mention the way you basically eye fuck each other 24/7" sohee fake gagged, earning a punch in the arm from you.

…

after his whirlwind of a morning, anton decided to shower and take a well-deserved nap. unlike you, he did not have calculus test to study for, so after washing up he climbed into his covers and caught up on some much needed sleep.

a couple hours later, he finally woke up, groaning at the sun shining onto his face. it was late afternoon, and the light shined directly on his eyes, making going back to sleep nearly impossible. stretching his arms and legs, he rubbed his eyes and sat up groggily, grabbing his phone to check the time.

to his surprise, he was greeted by what seemed like 100 notifications from his messages. clicking them open, his eyes widened as the words came into focus.

it was in fact, your friends' group chat discussing the two of your and your not-so-secret arrangement. his eyes nearly popped out of his head reading the texts, still groggy from just waking up.

scrolling through the rest of his notifications quickly, he clicked on one with your name.

3 missed calls from y/n <3

[2:03 p.m.] y/n <3: r u asleep? call me when you see this

anton's fingers were practically shaking as he dialed your number, each ring making him wish the earth would open up and swallow him whole. his anxious thoughts were interrupted by your soft voice.

"hey."

"hi."

"um… did you see the groupchat?" anton winced. straight to the point, then.

"yeah… i'm sorry. i forgot them in a rush this morning" he felt like he was holding his breath waiting for you to answer, until he heard you chuckle on the other end of the line.

"anton, it's okay."

"what? but i thought-"

"it's about time we told them anyways, i'm tired of sneaking around." you laughed as you heard anton stutter on the line.

"plus, i like you, a lot."

"me too." he spoke softly, his heart nearly exploding in his chest. you smiled on the other end; his timidness never failed to make you feel giddy.

"good, cause it would've been really awkward if you didn't" you giggled, fiddling with the end of your shirt.

"so … does this mean i can take you on a real date now?"

"hmmm i guess that's fine" you answered teasingly. anton sighed dramatically on the other end, slapping a hand over his chest so loud that even you could hear it.

"in that case, what are you doing tonight?"

…

[bonus] the groupchat

[shintaru]

Light Calvary | dating head canons

Sabbath, hummingbird, Kazuma, league of street, windbreaker

m.list ♡ taglist

Owen Knight ~

Obsessed with you

Stalks you every corner you turn he will be there

You no longer have any alone time. Doesn’t matter if you’re sleeping, showering, shopping, cooking, driving, or walking he’s there

Would let you wear his clothes, he definitely sprays his cologne on it before giving it to you

Random hugs, if he feels affectionate prepare yourself you’re most likely not getting away from him 🤣🤣

He’s very jealous, he doesn’t mind you hanging around the guys in his crew but if anyone had a crush on you or still has one he won’t like you hanging around them especially if it’s an ex

Overprotective, if you try to help give a random man directions somehow the guys head almost gets taken off

Will walk you home, probably never lets you walk anywhere by yourself especially at night

Sometimes you have to hide from him to get some alone time but expect him to spam call you

Would spoil you, whatever you want you’ll get it

Would know how to cheer you up when you’re sad and if he doesn’t know what to say he’ll stay by your side and offer cuddles

Wants to do his morning and night routine with you everyday you can’t miss a day or you’ll have to deal with him pouting until you make it up to him

Would have Harry & Noah watch you and report what you do back to him, if he’s unable to be there

Camilla Nelson ~

She works a lot so she loves when you take interest in her work.

Will wear your clothes to bed.

Sprays her perfume on any gifts she gives you

Knows everything about you without you telling her

Would like restaurant dates but prefers to stay at home and relax with you

Would wear your clothes to bed

Helps you with your skin care and nutrition

Likes receiving roses

Likes giving you health advice

Extremely jealous but she won’t tell you how she feels at first she’ll make comments about it and you can tell she’s in a bad mood because she looks pissed off and she’s ignoring you

She’s a little controlling

She’s always busy with light Calvary crew

She doesn’t like when you don’t answer her calls or texts right away

Chris D’Char ~

Would use sarcasm during an argument

You can’t go on restaurant dates, he eats everything and makes a mess as he eats. He also talks while he eats and crumbs fly out of his mouth.

He’s very loud, like too loud. If you get separated in a store you’ll hear him before you see him surprisingly since he’s huge. He will shout your name across the store making everyone stare.

Would try to share food with you but he’s definitely eating it all if you eat slow. If he finishes his food he might just eat yours too.

Would like seeing you in his clothes

Laughs extremely loud when you can’t reach something on a high shelf

Except a lot of physical touches, he doesn’t ask if he wants to touch you he’s going to. Ofc when it comes to nsfw he’d ask for consent but if he wants to hug you or place his arms around you he will just do it.

Loves going on dates that involve anything with food.

Would gift you jewelry sometimes it matches his

Likes spraying his cologne on clothes he lets you wear

Would want you to travel with him anywhere he goes

Would steal your hair clips

Likes when you cook for him, sometimes he’ll come up behind you wrapping his arms around your waist watching you cook for a little while.

Noah Austin ~

Obsessed with you

She hasn’t had many kind people in her life so she’s really shocked when you show you care.

Follows you around sometimes

Probably always with you

Shares random snacks with you

She’s the jealous type, if you’re seen with anyone else other than the people she knows she will be jealous but she won’t say anything

Would gift you food

Doesn’t mind where the date location is. As long as she gets food and you both are hanging out

Would want you to watch her race

If you got into an argument and you want alone time away from her that’s just not going to happen she’ll follow you everywhere until you talk to her

Would steal your clothes

She’s also very loud especially in stores so like Chris if you two got separated except her to just shout across the store until she finds you

Very affectionate, likes holding your hands, cuddling, dragging you to random places that she wants to go

Harry Shepherd ~

Shares chicken with you

Talks about doping 24/7 to the point you’d choke him if you could

Talks a lot about cyclist that inspired him

Would love seeing you in his clothes because he thinks it’s both cute and funny how huge his clothes are on you

Walks with you everywhere

You have to scold him because he always loses his wallet because he can’t stop taking off his hoodie when he races people

You have to accept the fact he will beat people up if they look at either one if you the wrong way, once he gets worked up there is no stopping him

Doesn’t like going on date night he prefers to order food and stay home

Loves laying on you so he can laugh when you can’t get up

Overprotective type, mostly because he likes having a reason to fight

If you’re mad at him he’d purposely put things on high shelves so you’ll ask for his help

I feel like he secretly would like cuddles but he would also end up crushing his partner by rolling over on them once he actually falls asleep and definitely hogs blankets.

He is a little insecure, so from time to time he will need reassurance

Dedications @rossesnd @cozyunderworld @catsrkool @owenskitten

I hope these head canons are good and not ooc😭😭 some characters I can write so much for cause I understand their character a little better but other characters I don’t understand as well or know enough yet to write the same amount

[justevelynnnn]

What the boys got you for christmas 😍🎄‼️

Notes: Just a little something for christmas 😭👍🏾 i haven’t written anything else lately cause of work but that armin angst is still coming! But yeah, still merry Christmas!

Context: The following aot boys x black!fem reader. (not proofread😭)

Warnings: fluff aside from couple of cuss words and mention of getting high on plug!connie’s part

Characters: Armin, Eren, Connie, Jean and Reiner Bonus!: Nerd Armin and Plug!Connie

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Armin:

- Armin is so sweet.. From the moment u met him u knew he was a soft bookworm with a kind heart. He asked you to be his on valentine’s day by writing a letter confessing his feelings.

- You were happy to be his fr and you were really excited when y’all’s first christmas together came around.

- You got him this limited edition old dictionary, one of those fake aquariums from the 2000s, a fancy microscope and the entirety of his favorite book series.

- However when Christmas came and it was his turn you couldn’t have been more surprised.

- He got you multiple cute chanel coats and purses, a box of your favorite chocolate, a box of miss dior and an entire macbook😭😭😭

- “ARMIN?!?” You exclaim. “Since when ever was you rich????!?”

- And the boy just smiled at you and said he saved a bunch of money from his job but you didn’t really believe it.

- He also spent the whole day watching christmas movies and taking taking cute pictures together with you😚❤️❤️

Eren:

- You and Eren got officially together on Halloween after a party so you guys were still kinda new and tryna feel each other out.

- You knew he liked working out so you just got him some gray sweatpants, some protein crap and one of those flannel hoodies.

- This boy ended up getting you some uggs and one of those “The tote bag” bags and a bunch of bath and body work stuff

- He even got all your favorite scents, aw❤️

- Eren acted like he didn’t always listen or pay attention but he clearly was the whole time and it made your heart melt🥹

- Eren didn’t wanna do the sappy shit he did but he sure wasn’t gonna show it right now so he just hopped on the game and you happily watched for the rest of the day.

Connie:

- Connie and you spent yall first christmas together as not really a couple but that weird talking stage thing. You still counted tho cause you might as well be his gf🤷🏾‍♀️

- Connie was a goof ball fr so you didn’t really know what to get him. When it came down to the serious emotional stuff y’all just joked yall way out of it and so it was this weird limbo ish going on

- You settled on a nike jacket and a gift card to his favorite restaurant. You felt so bad cause it seemed like bare minimum but Connie was excited regardless!

- He said it’s the “thought that counts🥰😊” and all you could say after a few seconds was “Moral of the story headass..” and yall just busted out laughing

- Connie ended up getting you the brown faux jacket you saw and wanted from burlington, some pearl earrings and a necklace and a visa gift card with-

- “How much money is on here Con?”

- “$500.😗”

- WHAT?!!!2!@/

- You were expecting $50 or even $100 but $500? Half a band?

- “Yeah i didn’t know what to get u so…😗have fun!”

- You hugged him so hard and accidentally said he was the best boyfriend ever but when you pulled away to quickly apologize he just shushed you and said, “Anything for my beautiful girlfriend😌..”

Jean:

- You and jean got together in the summer after school let out. Jean didn’t talk much like Eren but he was a goof ball like Connie especially when he was around him.

- You didn’t have much to work with embarrassingly. It was gonna be y’all’s 6 month anniversary on christmas but you barely knew a thing about him!!

- You ended up getting him some polo club cologne, airpods and a plain black hoodie.

- When Christmas came around you received some jewelry, some of the makeup you use and a cute brown fluffy teddy bear 🧸❤️

- Y’all had a very chill christmas, Jean wanted to go for a walk so you went with naturally and y’all ended up witnessing a beautiful sunset❤️

Reiner:

- You and Reiner got together in spring. He asked you out by bringing you a bunch of flowers in a bouquet which was definitely on theme for spring time..

- Reiner also stayed to himself a little bit more but he was more open with you so you had a good idea of what he liked.

- You got you and him some matching pjs to wear for the holiday. You got him a couple of books since sometimes he would read, a fancy shaving kit, a couple of turtlenecks and a photo album of you guys first year together❤️

- You were really proud and happy of your gifts but then you saw he didn’t get you anything other than a bunch of replacements for the hair products you use.

- “Hold on i think i put your other gift over here….close your eyes real quick..”

- You sighed and closed your eyes. You prayed he wasn’t gonna put anything together out of nowhere. You were kinda disappointed but it was ok.

- You heard shuffling and then you could tell when he was right in front of you.

- “Ok, open.”

- When you opened your eyes yoy immediately took everything back.. what you saw was a kneeling reiner on one knee holding a gorgeous diamond ring 💍😍

- For christmas he gave you a proposal!!!

- Even though it was kinda early, to be honest you two were talking for a lil minute anyways so it still felt like proper timing.

- You guys planned your wedding for christmas eve as spent the rest of that day cuddling with him watching Christmas themed sit-comes

Bonus:

Nerd!Armin:

- You knew Nerd!Armin since you two were kids and over time feelings developed.. then it naturally blossomed into a relationship. It was kinda weird because as you two grew up you guys just slowly became girlfriend and boyfriend.

- Nerd!Armin had always been a bit brainy and a major science fan so it wasn’t hard to get him anything at all.

- You got him a brand new pc, plentyyyy of books especially the sci-fi types and some weird graphic tees.

- He smiled with his braces and handed you a louis vuitton purse that had some louis vuitton jewelry and perfume inside. Also a soft blanket with your favorite design/character on it, Dior makeup items and chocolates.

- “Where did you get the money to buy this? Cause all i see you do is watch youtube and science shit-“ You questioned in surprise.

- “Stocks..”

- You just shrugged cause you had no idea on what he was talking about but you were just happy this silly brainiac was yours for the holiday 🫶🏾

Plug!Connie:

- You and Connie started off as any other plug and customer. But then Connie started to catch feelings and by like August of this year he asked you to be his.

- He was very protective of you so by the time the holidays came around no one knew you two were a couple.

- He would always spoil you too with shopping sprees and paying for you to get your hair and nails did 💅🏾

- It was hard to think of what he’d want cause he could literally buy anything he wanted plus he didn’t really talk about himself much

- You settled on a couple of hoodies, one of those vape shark jackets and a game for his ps5.

- He ended up getting you a whole ass black Audi r8.

- Your jaw was on the floor 💀

- “Con, what the hellll..”

- “What? Y’don like it?”

- “I do but literally how??”

- “Ion know😗.”

- “Boy-“

- Connie never told you how he did it but he had proof it wasn’t stolen at least so 🙄

- He also got you a giant teddy bear and a new iphone.

- You kinda felt like your gifts were not the best compared to his but he assured you it was fine and he was grateful to have you regardless. ❤️

- You two ended up spending the rest of the day getting high and watching weird christmas movies no one talks about .

[invinciblerodent]

this scene is also pretty much fucking evil if we consider that not only is Iona an emotional mess right now (with a whole bunch of unsolved relationship-y issues as well as uuuuh general Problems(tm)), but that in this version he is also wearing the face of a man she was with for like. literally half her life. Shared his home, his bed, and yeah, it wasn't a great, or even a good relationship, but it's still a point of familiarity. She still can't stop herself from craving his warmth and approval. It's very disorganized as he was both a source of fear and a source of comfort, but she can't help it- she's attached.

Logically, she doesn't trust a word he says, but she still can't stop feeling close to a version of Herric who's kind to her. She still can't see through his manipulation. How could she, she's way too emotionally involved: he makes a sad face, and her very body betrays her, moves in to hold him.

gah, this reveal is going to hurt a lot.

(do I seriously have to fkin do the whole orthon thing in order to get my girl out of this emotional limbo jfc 🥹)

got to the Shadow-Cursed Lands. The boy is sitting pretty at 83 approval. The saves before the last six long rests are called, in this order, "IT'S HAPPENING (i think)", "okay maybe now", "fuck maybe now", "okay that was wyll but fine", "maybe this time he'll do it", and "i fucking give up".

all of them had a rest cutscene, but none the one I was gunning for.

and then I googled what was going on, and apparently in my eagerness I bloody well forgot that I gotta actually go to Moonrise first.

head in my hands I just want these idiots to love each other

[latoyalestrange]

dessert fairy

s. sallow x f!reader

lil drabble inspired by talkiing with @ask-sebastian. ps i'm literally falling in love with this rp acct. he's too smooth i swear.

summary: in which sirona takes things into her own hands when she's tired of watching you and sebastian dance around your feelings for one another.

words: 1kish

warnings: 7th year mc and seb, pining, awkwardness, fluff, not edited! literally the tiniest bit of angst/ hurt and comfort. mention of professor fig :(

every year on the day the hogwarts students returned, hogsmeade held a little fair with music, various pop-up shops, and of course dancing in the square to celebrate. it went without saying that you and sebastian would be attending together as you had the previous year. you weren't sure if it was a good sign or not.

see, you and sebastian were stuck in a waiting game. he would walk you to your classes, insistent on holding your books, offer his scarf when you were cold, let you copy his homework, and would stand up for you anytime students teased you. but that's what any good friend would do, right? you were both painfully oblivious to the other's advances, and therefore you stayed in a limbo of casual flirting that never led to anything.

you pondered this as you stood in the courtyard facing the hamlet, your back to the entrance of the school. you were waiting for him to join you after dinner to head to hogsmeade for a night filled with fun. well, as much fun as you could possibly have with the person you're not-so-secretly pining after. you fidgeted with your hands, looking down at them awkwardly. you were unaware of the slytherin boy as he snuck up behind you, taking silent steps as he approached. his hands pinching your sides shook you out of your trance and you instinctively gasped, ready to scream and run from whatever spooked you.

"sebastian!" you exclaimed, rolling your eyes and clutching your chest as you saw him. he chuckled, letting his hands ghost over your hips as he stood in front of you.

"sorry, it was too perfect of an opportunity to pass up." once you caught you breath, you found yourself blushing as you looked up at his tall form that practically towered over you now after his most recent growth spurt. his cinnamon eyes were still as rich and romantic as ever. "shall we?" you glanced down to see his arm that he held out for you to link with.

"i don't think i want to go with you now, sallow," you teased. he saw right through it.

"yes, you do. come on." he nudged you with his elbow. you sighed, finally snaking your arm around his muscular one as he began leading you to hogsmeade. as well as he could read you, you'd think he'd know how you truly felt about him. but unfortunately for the both of you, sebastian wasn't really as confident as he seemed. he was secure in his dueling abilities and being an incredible student, but when it came to you? he was just as in the dark as you were. you would get bake him his favorite sweets, choose him as your dueling partner every time without fail, and would consistently be there for him when he was missing his sister, letting him hold you tightly as you patted his fluffy brown curls. but that's just what any good friend would do, right?

as you approached the hamlet, you took in the sight of the extra twinkling lights they had put up and the adorable little shops that lined the square. one for handcrafted jewelry, one for a beautiful collection of paintings done by local artists, and a few booths selling various muggle objects. the regular musician that played in the square was also there, and with a few extra instruments that he harmonized perfectly together. it was busier than normal, but that was expected. people from hamlets all around the highlands traveled to see the festivals all year in hogsmeade. unbeknownst to you, while you were digesting your surroundings, sebastian stared down at you adoringly, savoring you adorable expression. he could feel his heart pang in his chest. merlin, how he wished he could confess everything to you in that moment.

"what first?" realizing you probably caught him staring, he blinked away his heart-eyes to respond.

"drinks, obviously," he joked, earning a giggle from you. he began leading you to the three broomsticks, which was only a few paces from the square. once you entered, it was the same as the outside, bustling with patrons chatting loudly.

"agreed. i need a few before i can socialize." he quirked his brown in your direction.

"you're socializing now, aren't you?" he asked in a teasing tone. you shook your head as you reached the only free table in the corner of the first floor. he pulled your chair out for you, pushing you under the table after you sat.

"no, you're different. i don't need alcohol to tolerate you."

he winced playfully, "ouch, tolerate?" you waved his fake pained expression away with your hand.

"oh, you know what i mean. of course i more than tolerate you." redness crept up your neck as you said it, feeling embarrassed by the slightest hint of boldness in your words and his gentlemanly gestures. he brushed it off, chuckling.

"i'll go get us a round, yeah? stay put." you nodded and watched him turn away. you let your head fall to the table with a thud once he couldn't see. how could he not see what he was doing to you? you quickly put yourself back together before he returned, full mugs of butter bear in hand. he placed them on the table in front of you and finally took his place opposite to you. you suddenly noticed the brilliant golden hues that cast across the room from the candle chandeliers. he looked angelic in the light, you could've sworn he was glowing.

"so, seventh year, hm?" he settled in the plush seat beneath him, or was he shifting nervously? you couldn't tell. "what are your plans after you absolutely ace the n.e.w.t.s?" he smiled cheekily as he brought the frosted mug up to his plush lips. you watched as you pondered your answer, eyeing the foam mustache that he skillfully wiped away with his tongue.

"uh-- i'm not entirely for sure yet. everything is still so new." he nodded understandingly, allowing you to continue. "professor weasley actually mentioned to me that they're still looking for a permanent replacement for professor fig." you tried to seem excited about it, but your eyes instantly fell to your fidgeting hands that rested on the table at the mention of your late mentor. "she said, um...that i might be a good fit, if things go well." his brow furrowed, his heart aching for you as he watched the excitement leave your face.

"you don't seem excited by the idea." he looked down at your hands and took one in his own, rubbing comforting circles with his thumb. you shook your head glumly, unable to meet his gaze. "can i ask why?"

"it's just...there are so many other wizards and witches that are perfectly capable--" you stopped, forcing yourself to breathe before you started crying in public. he only squeezed your hand. "there are so many other capable people that aren't responsible for his death."

he shook his head immediately at the prospect. "what happened was in no way your fault, y/n. i didn't know him as well as you did, but what i do know is that him and every professor chose to fight alongside you that day. as far as i'm concerned, they were all lucky to have you there. imagine if you weren't and they had to fight ranrock without anyone with your ability?" you sighed, contemplating his words.

a smile slowly crept back onto your lips, "thank you, sebastian...i wish that made me feel better about it. i really do." he shared a sympathetic smile with you as you sat in comfortable silence for a moment before you continued. "but what about you? what are your plans?" his expression softened to a more playful one as he sat back in his seat, still holding your hand in his.

"oh, you know me. survive." you rolled your eyes at his lightheartedness, but your face looked anything but annoyed by his antics.

"at least you're not planning to leave me here alone."

he shook his head once more, "i'd never." your familiar blush returned, this time reaching your cheeks and nose. you were suddenly hyper-aware of how his hand felt as it held yours and your legs that tangled together under the table.

"so...just me and you then?" you couldn't force your eyes to meet his, as much as you wanted them to.

"against the world." if you weren't blushing before, you definitely were now. something about that made your mind go blank and you suddenly couldnt find a clever remark to retort with. to fill the gap, you brought your own mug to your lip, taking a selfish sip. like sebastian's, it left a silly mustache on your lip. you didn't notice at first, caught up in your thoughts.

"oh, you've got a little..." he gestured to his mouth and you instantly knew. did you always have to make a fool of yourself in front of him? you wiped it with your thumb, but a little dribble remained at the corner of your mouth.

"here, let me." he gently brought his hand up to ghost over your cheek, wiping the leftover foam from your lip. you were sure now that your entire face was beet red from the contact.

you were back to searching your mind frantically for any response. luckily, you didn't need to find one, as someone had joined you at the edge of your table. once you looked up, you realized it was sirona ryan, the owner of the three broomsticks and seer of all, apparently. she held a generous slice of her signature chocolate cake with a dollop of whipped cream and two heart-shaped cherries on top.

"lover's special, on the house. you two have fun at the festival tonight." she placed the plate between the two of you. "not too much fun, though," she added with a wink. you and sebastian exchanged looks, and he was the first to speak.

"lovers special?" he chuckled bemusedly as he looked to you. "i mean, not that i'm one to say no to free cake or anything, but--" he was swiftly cut off by your foot meeting his shin beneath the table.

"thank you sirona," you added sweetly. she smiled politely and turned on her heel to return to the counter.

sebastian laughed, "ow! what was that for?" his playful expression quickly dropped once he saw you, your hands now withdrawn to your lap at you looked down it to it, picking at your nails. "hey, what's wrong?"

you answered meekly, "is it really that weird to think of me in that way?" he instantly felt terrible. you looked so hurt. "i thought maybe since..." you trailed off, sighing. "i don't know what i thought.

"no, no, that's not what i meant at all!" he quickly defended. "i just--i guess i was surprised by sirona's assumption, is all..." it was his turn to fall silent, trying desperately to find the words to say next.

he cleared his throat and asked gently, "do...do you think of me in that way?" he was almost afraid of saying it outright.

realizing there was no way out of this painfully awkward conversation, you were able to stutter out, "oh! i-- uhm, no! i mean--" you instantly covered your face with your hands, wanting to hide. "oh, merlin, i've ruined it, haven't i?" your voice was muffled as you hid behind your hands. he was quick to pull your hands away from your face and hold them in his own.

"you haven't ruined anything, promise. i'm just a bit confused." you took a deep breath, still avoiding his eyes. you felt so embarrassed.

"i just...i wanted this to be perfect, i wanted us to have butterbeer and look at all the shops and dance and maybe i could finally-- or maybe you would--...i don't know. i'm sorry, sebastian." you let your head fall again, refusing to look him in the eye. he only squeezed your hand comfortingly, finally feeling like he understood.

"hey," he outstretched his hand to tilt your head upward, finally meeting your eye. "if you wanted this to be a date..." he gulped down hard, feeling sweat prick his forehead. "i wouldn't mind that at all." you looked instantly relieved as the tension left your body.

"really?" he nodded, relazing a bit himself.

"really. i'm sorry it took me so long to say something. i didn't think you were interested."

"sebastian, i wouldn't do half the things i do for you if i weren't interested." you admitted, making him laugh heartily.

"and i wouldn't hold your books and walk you to class every day. those damned things are heavy!" you returned the chuckle, finally feeling calm again. unbeknownst to you, a pair of eyes was watching the two of you and relishing in their successfull efforts. sirona ryan, unofficial dessert fairy and matchmaker, sometimes needed to give students a gentle push in the right direction. and they thanked her for that.

reblog if you made it to then end!

lmk if you want a part 2 cause i would be down.

[heartfullofleeches]

This is such a silly and stupid idea but I am desperate for a Yandere x Reader where the Yandere is this extremely paranoid/depressed fuck who thinks the world is diseased and the only way for it to get clean is to get rid of all human life on it, they are willing to kill for a "better cause" and have absolutely no mercy...and then there is Reader (the only person they don't hate entirely), who is into Eurodance, is extremely positive and is a complete fashion disaster who believes it is good in everything and everyone.

This is very much based on my recent obsession with Planet of the Bass but let's not talk about it lol.

I just want these two completely opposite bitches to try and teach each other their points of view while one slowly falls in love with the other

[Here's a blurbo I had in limbo with a similar plot. Yan is indeed depressed/hates the world and Reader's moreso into rave because I dunno anything about Eurodance. Tw: themes of suicide]

This is it. Their final night alive.

They'd done all they needed. Returned a book collecting dust on their desk. Disposed of the tools used on corpses in some other lake to keep their name from more attention. It's crazy how in their last moments all that mattered was the thoughts and options of those who lead them to this fate. How disgusting. They did their victims a favor by leaving them nameless. The murky waters below reflect a dread known long before the plunge. There is nothing waiting for them. Not here. Not on the other side.

Their final night alive. Or so it would have been.

Right as they climbed on the bridge's ledge, back facing the sky, small beads of light rose from the hill adjacent. The tiny orbs merge into separate distinct figures on the horizon. Wheeling onto the scene, the group ride with vehicles unusual for the terrain. Rollerskates, skateboards, electric scooters. They wear some matter of bright clothing with glowsticks and lights dangling from their person in flashy jewelry and attached to headphones they wore. They all seemed to be equipped with some type of earwear and dancing to their own beat while still moving as one.

The group stop at the other side of the road, all oblivious to the shadow lurking across the way. They glared - climbing down from the ledge and sitting upon it, seething. The group may not notice them now, but they'd surely catch on at most inconvenient time. It would seem their presence wasn't completely ignored as one head turns their way. One of the figures wearing skates waves, pointing to one of the many necklaces around their neck. The shadow avoids their smile, praying they get the message.

They don't.

Sparkling wheels crunch over gravel. "Hey."

Silence.

They remove their headphones. "Hey!"

Nothing. Persisting, the person wheels over to the railing, leaning against it as they breath in the salty air. "Long drop down. Won't be quick."

As if that would deter them.

"I won't get on your case. We've all been there at some point. Life sucks, and then you did. Feels like your taking control by going out on your own terms, but you won't and may never will. That's why it's important to enjoy the little things. It's why I hang out with those guys. We get together every once and a while. Party on wheels as some of us call it. Lots of fun."

The party-goer takes off their headphones and places their music player on the railing. "This is what I listen to when I'm down. Maybe it can help you. Maybe not - but I'd like you to return it some day. My name is Y/n, by the way. Just so you know when we meet again."

You take off your necklace and offer it to them. They take it - just to get you to leave them alone. You solemnly wave again, returning to your group and taking over the mantle of carrying the portable speaker another brought with them. You take their arm, balancing skillfully on your wheels as you dance the fleeting night away with no care of the coming dawn.

Your type were the worse of all. Giving them more tasks to complete before they departed from this miserable world. They hated carrying the duties given by others on their shoulders so much they couldn't pass on, but looking at your smiling face, sorting through the music that got you through the toughest - they couldn't see themselves from fulfilling their end of the deal you set anywhere in the near future.

For once in their life living in someone's else's shadow didn't seem so bad.

[hearts4hughes]

lacy | mark estapa

( mark estapa x fem!reader )

a/n: i know i should be working on my bday celly, but this song has been stuck in my head since i first heard it. olivia so perfectly captured the feeling of insecurities within girls and others. this is sooo short and it’s devastating writing mark angst, but i had to write something for this song!

warnings: mentions of being insecure, being led on, no part two!

Lacy, oh, Lacy

Skin like puff pastry

Aren't you the sweetest thing on this side of Hell?

Dear angel Lacy

Eyes white as daisies

Did I ever tell you that I’m not doin' well?

the bar was loud- so loud it hurt your head. then again, maybe it was also the result of the countless drinks you’d lost track of, each one seemingly going down easier than the last.

why had you agreed to go there? why had you agreed to torture yourself?

just a week ago mark had his arm around you. he was whispering sweet nothings into your ear, giving you the impression he wanted more than to just be best friends. yet he never acted on it, never followed through. so you waited on this confusing limbo. you didn’t know what you were waiting for- perhaps for your crush on your best friend to magically disappear or for him to finally act on all those mixed signals.

now, mere days later, he had his arm around her- treating her as he had just treated you. his arm rested comfortably around her waist. their height difference made him have to lean down to whisper in her ear, just as he had done with you. and he looked at her with those unmistakable heart eyes. you wanted to believe that she had lured him in with some siren song, or maybe cast a spell on him, but you didn’t believe in magic. that’s why lacy almost didn’t seem real. she was impossibly perfect.

her long, blonde hair was tied back with delicate pink ribbons, matching with her adorable slip dress. but when you wore pink, it washed out all of your features, leaving you feeling less then feminine. with lacy, it was different. pink accentuated her plump red lips and those piercing blue eyes of hers. she embodied femininity in every way.

why couldn’t you look like that?

Smart, sexy Lacy

I'm losin’ it lately

I feel your compliments like bullеts on skin

Dazzling starlet

Bardot reincarnate

Wеll, aren't you the greatest thing to ever exist?

you were jolted as she gracefully moved away from mark and headed in your direction. she sent you the sweetest smile, showing off her pearly white teeth. it was the kind of smile that could uplift anyone that was lucky enough to see it.

“oh my goodness, you look like an actual goddess!” she complimented, her eyes filled with sincerity and awe. there was no devilish undertone or hidden agenda in her words, so why did it feel like bullets against your skin?

you smiled in return, yet it didn’t reach your eyes. “speaking of looking like a goddess, darling, that’s you.” you replied with sincerity, even though the gnawing feeling in your stomach hinted otherwise.

“thank you so much, cutie! i channeled my inner bardot with this look.” she said, though she didn’t need to channel anyone. she was a modern-day brigitte bardot herself. “anyways, catch you later; i’m going to get drinks for mark and me.” she beamed, planted a sweet kiss on your cheek, and strutted off to the bar.

you wanted so desperately to find a flaw, to mock her in some way, but it was impossibly- she was genuinely one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met, and it left you conflicted, torn between admiration and insecurity.

you couldn’t do this. you couldn’t sit here praying on the downfall of her and mark’s relationship. it was time to accept the painful truth: you were just a pawn in his game, leading him to her- his queen. your trembling fingers found their way to the heart pendant necklace around your neck, and with a determined tug, you broke the clasp. gazing at it in your palm, you remembered how mark got it for you for your one year ‘friendiversary’. what once was such a special piece of jewelry, was now a mockery of your failed relationship.

tears welled up in your eyes as you stomped over to mark. he didn’t notice you were next to him until you shoved his shoulder. he looked at you with confusion as you opened his hand, shoving the golden pendant within it.

“what’s going on?” he asked, peering down at the necklace. “why are you giving this to me?” foolish was the only word that could describe him.

“i can’t be friends with you anymore, mark. you’re tearing me apart and i don’t even think you notice it.” you confessed, tears streaming down your face. his eyes were laced with hurt. what had he done to lose his best friend?

“y/n-”

“no, don’t say anything!” you snapped, your breath hitching in your throat. “you don’t get to say anything after what you did to our friendship. you ruined it! you’re the one who ruined it.” your words were slurred, fueled by the alcohol coursing through your veins.

he didn’t respond or ask for clarification; you both knew exactly what had been done to ruin such a solid connection.

as the weight of your confession hung in the air, you turned away from who once was your world, leaving him behind with the heart pendant in his open palm. there was a whirlwind of emotions coursing through you- pain, anger, and an overwhelming sense of betrayal.

pushing through the crowd, you made your way to the exit. lacy waved you bye, clueless of what had just happened.

you stepped out of the bar into the darkness. tears clung to your lashes, but you didn’t let them fall. your phone vibrated in your pocket, but you ignored it- too nervous that you’d see mark’s contact picture staring back at you.

and you left, leaving everything you once cared about behind you; leaving that cruel chapter of your life in the darkness of the open night.

Lacy, oh, Lacy

It's like you're out to get me

You poison every little thing that I do

Lacy, oh, Lacy

I just loathe you lately

And I despise my jealous eyes and how hard they fell for you

Yeah, I despise my rotten mind and how much it worships you

[lightofraye]

All About E

More self-torture. I don’t know why I do this.

Oh wait.

Yes I do.

It’s because the person I’m writing about is being praised and supported when she shouldn’t be. Shall we begin?

-

Elta Danneel Graul was born in Lafayette, Louisiana, and raised in the small town of Eunice. Her father, Edward, is a practicing ophthalmologist, and her mother, Deborah, is an interior designer. She was named after her great-grandmother. Legally her name is still Elta, but she professionally and personally goes by Danneel. Supposedly she was given the middle name, Danneel, after a street in New Orleans.

She moved to Los Angeles because, according to her, she knew she wanted to live in California. She moved there and lucked out with modeling. How did she luck out? Her now-ex-boyfriend, Riley Smith. His mother was a modeling agent in Chicago. She flew home with him for Thanksgiving and his mother made the phone call with the agency.

(How did Elta afford to live in Los Angeles without much work? Her parents paid her way, so she basically lived in an apartment on her own, didn’t share with anyone, and got to be lazy.)

Supposedly Riley’s mother also helped Elta with a nose job and breast implants (the first time around).

Elta liked to claim she worked and supported herself, but her beginning modeling jobs didn’t pay very well. She also didn’t get nearly as much work, so her parents supported her.

Elta proceeded to segue into television with the help of Riley to do auditions. She had a few guest spots on MadTV, Amanda Bynes’ What I Like About You. Then she had the audition with One Life To Live.

Because One Life To Live was filmed in New York, Elta had to move there. Again… her parents helped, because a starting actress on a soap did not pay well. She also had bit parts in Love House.

Eventually One Life To Live ended and Elta got guest spots on One Tree Hill, Joey, JAG, Charmed. Supposedly it was because she did well in auditions, but those rumors of her doing the casting couch with Mark Schwan persist.

After One Tree Hill, she had more guest spots on How I Met Your Mother, NCIS, and other shows.

She appeared in a few small roles in movies as well.

Supposedly, Elta is skilled in gymnastics, can sing and play piano.

Given how badly she moved as Rachel in One Tree Hill, I call false in the gymnastics claim. We’ve heard her sing—she can’t sing, period. Never seen her play the piano.

There have been claims that she has a degree in beat-poetry from University of Louisiana. She is not listed as an alumni and the timing does not work. I also call false that.

Elta has tried to create a jewelry line with Limbo Jewelry to create a line called Link. Near as I can tell, that jewelry line has never sold out and has not sold well. Supposedly it was meant as a benefit for Creative Action, an Austin-based charity aimed at foster youth-development projects. It has barely raised much, only $30,000.

Elta has four tattoos. A matching tattoo with Hilarie, which says “Mischief”, that she got at Hilarie’s wedding. A shark tattoo on her butt. An arrow on her left arm in honor of her children, and some kind of “robe-woman” who resembles a muse on her right arm.

She photographed for Maxim’s “Hot 100” list several times.

Supposedly, she is still friends with Hilarie Burton Morgan and Bevin Price.

She claimed she fell in love with Jensen during filming of Ten Inch Hero. They apparently drove back and forth, car pooled, really, to and from set and struck up a deeper conversation. Jensen once claimed he gave her a note that said “Not now, someday” as by that time, Elta was engaged to Riley Smith, Jensen’s friend.

Evidently, she didn’t even tell Riley what happened. She just packed up her things and moved out from their shared apartment, no break-up talk, nothing. Riley is now very happy she did that, given the crappy way she broke up with him. The best thing he got out of that relationship, he once claimed, was the guitar he was gifted with.

Jensen kept mum on the relationship for a long while. He had dated Joanna Krupa at one point, and Tania Saulnier. He was rumored, at one point, to have been with LeAnn Rimes (she herself said that was false) and Jessica Simpson (never been mentioned).

His revelation that he was dating came as a surprise—and almost no one knew who she was. When his engagement was announced on JustJared, no one knew he was dating or still dating her. The timing of said engagement had always been suspicious, given it was practically a week after Jared proposed to Genevieve.

Jensen claimed later that Elta gave him an ultimatum and that she hadn’t known he was going to propose.

I believe it was because seeing Jared get engaged meant the gay rumors would focus solely on him and he didn’t want to deal with that. Plus, suspected he had to “settle down”, so Elta was his “Okay, I guess she’ll do” girl. Not the girl of his dreams.

She likely tailored herself to what he wanted as she knew him for years prior to that.

Not to mention a rather quick engagement to wedding (six months; most usually do a year! Perhaps because Jared’s was set and they wanted to compete—or rather, Elta did).

Oh, Elta’s career kept puttering along. Some attempts were made, and all failed. No, I don’t think it’s because she wanted to be a stay-at-home mom either. Her career just didn’t take off; she’s a horrible actress with a childish voice that is clearly faked.

Her most recent role was a ‘gift’ from Hilarie. A pity gift.

And honestly, she’s not even a stay-at-home mom. She has nannies, a housekeepr, a gardener, possibly more help than most single parents or stay-at-home parents have. She’s unrelatable. She’s achieved nothing beyond being Jensen Ackles’ wife.

I’d pity her, if it weren’t obvious Jensen is scared of her. (He’s said: “I’m not suicidal, I’m getting out of her way”; called her “Scary Spice”; has stated more than once that he defers to her because he has to; said their marriage works better when they’re apart.)

[deansraspberrypie]

Danneel modeling the Link Collection 💖💎👑

🍰 Tag list: @undisputedchick2 @jranutter @kazsrm67 🥧

[greyspirehollow]

We lock eyes again [Request]

Pairing : Quaestor Valdemar x Reader

Fandom : The Arcana visual novel

Warnings : none

Summary : You do not remember how long it took you to finally find a suitable host for your soul, and go on a quest to find your long lost anchor to the mortal world ; the one who your thoughts inevitably converged towards, stubbornly holding you back from crossing the threshold of the afterlife.

It had been centuries. It had been too long. You'd lived many ages : through the eyes of the salmon, deer, and wolf. You would see it in your dreams ; the time you spent in limbo, waiting, patiently...Although, when you awoke, these dreams didn't make sense anymore ; only leaving behind a lingering sense of longing, a feeling that you had to find... What did you have to find? You couldn't put your finger on it...

You sighed, sitting up in your bed and stretching. Another one of those dreams... But you didn't have time to reflect upon them, today. Asra wanted to introduce you to the court of Vesuvia, as a sort of starting point to your journey as a magician's apprentice. You feel as if you've done this before. You got up, yawning, and rummaging through your wardrobe to find something decent to wear. Once you had your outfit all sorted, you decided to add a twinkle of jewelry, just to make it all a little less dull. You had heard about this kingdom's history : struck by a terrible plague that had decimated thousands, sacrifices, memory loss... It was all a bit confusing, so you had only paid attention to the plague bit. Asra eventually knocked on your door "Are you ready?" ; you quickly adjusted your attire before hurrying out of your room "yes! I... Do I look ok? is it not... a little too much?" the magician smiled, looking at you fondly "you look perfect. Now, let's go ; we shouldn't keep the Countess waiting." You followed, walking through the sunlit and busy streets of the kingdom, looking around with delight. You had not left the shop much when you had gotten here, and the lively markets, the colors, and the people actually did you some good (to your surprise).

Your eyes widened slightly as you and your master arrived at the Palace's gates ; you looked up at the shiny architecture with sparkles in your eyes. What snapped you out of it was the voice of the guards demanding you introduce yourselves. Luckily, the Countess had seemingly told them about you and Asra's arrival, as the guards let you pass after having heard the magician's name. You then advanced past the gates, still awestruck. You felt as if the sun was illuminating the Palace in a magical hue, and the more you approached, the faster your heart thumped in your chest. It wasn't just the Palace's glory : you had a feeling. Something that made you apprehensive yet eager to go inside. You felt as if you knew something, but at the same time it was missing ; you had to go in the Palace, but you couldn't figure out why ; it tugged at your heart, pumping adrenaline into your veins, as if strings were drawing you towards the place... However, you kept this to yourself, and quietly followed Asra as you both made your way towards the throne room. Now that you thought about it, you didn't see anyone guide you towards there, and you suspected Asra had come to the Palace before.

However, no one was sitting on the throne. You raised a curious eyebrow, but before you could utter a word, your master uttered a little "ooh" of realization, before saying : "She must be in the drawing room. I wouldn't be surprised if she wished to introduce you to the courtiers as well." You nodded. That made some sense ; even though you were slightly disappointed : you would've loved to meet the Countess in a more private setting. You followed Asra nonetheless. A few turns later, you both found yourselves in said drawing room. The Countess was elegantly sitting in a one-person sofa, while she conversed with five figures, which the diversity of... Struck you, to say the least. Despite your unease, you followed Asra inside, as the magician bowed to the woman whose purple hair draped over her shoulders with shocking delicacy. "Countess Nadia" ; you bowed as well. She smiled "Ah, Asra. And you are..?" she asked, looking at you with a soft yet undeniably authoritative gaze. You managed to stutter out your name, giving her a short bow of the head. "I am glad you two were able to join us for tea. Please, be my guests ; make yourselves comfortable. I will have a cup made for you this instant. Portia?" She called out to a servant, whispering to her something before the young lady hurried out the drawing room, to presumably go fetch the tea.

It is then that Countess Nadia gestured to the other people in the drawing room. So they were the courtiers, you thought, as she went over each of them, your gaze following accordingly. Procurator Volta. Consul Valerius. Praetor Vlastomil. Pontifex Vulgora. Quaestor-

You let out a soft gasp ; no one heard you. Your eyes widened as they locked with their red own. Suddenly, everything made sense. This is why you were here. This is who you had been seeking. The dreams connected themselves, perfectly falling into place at this exact moment. You remembered it all now, the limbo, your adventures from body to body, your struggle and ghostly tears, the longing, the waiting, all that for this person right there, sitting on this sofa amongst the others...

Valdemar.

They looked surprised as well, their eyes never leaving your own, as they seemed to be deep in thought. The conversation around you faded, your whole attention focused onto them. The memory flooded back in your mind, nearly playing out in front of you...

The little cottage. The lingering scent of herbs and wood in the air. The shelves with dried plants, stuffed birds and other animals, skulls they had found on their trips to the forest... And Valdemar themselves. They excitedly opened their journal on the desk, signing you to sit next to them enthusiastically. "Here ! -they said- I've found something ! I think you're going to like it..." You smiled and chuckled. "If I didn't know any better, I would think you managed to capture a frog" They snorted at your reply "I'm past that. No, look... I've managed to make an antidote with snake venom ! I just diluted it, added some... ah, I forgot the plant's name- it's all in my notes, look" they were smiling widely as you approached, standing mere millimeters away from them, your hand brushing against theirs as you flipped through their research journal. It smelled peculiar, it always did : a mix of something like oak and leather, with a hint of vegetation. "It's impressive..." you nodded as your eyes squinted slightly, having a hard time reading certain words because of their highly cursive and optimized handwriting. Valdemar looked at you expectantly. "It is brilliant" you finally said, looking back at them. Your heart skipped a bit at that precious smile of theirs, which pushed their freckles-adorned cheeks. Oh, how you'd kill to pamper those in kisses... "why, I'm quite proud of myself" they said, looking back at the pages. However, their grin faltered slightly "...but what if... what if all this disappears? what then?" your heart ached slightly. You knew how important their researches and breakthroughs were to them. You didn't resist this time : you wrapped their arms around them "do not fret. Your knowledge will not be lost." you spoke softly, hoping to soothe their worries, even temporarily. "...You're right... It and I will live on forever..." They say after a few beats of silence, embracing you back. You smiled, content to see them somewhat reassured.

With that, the memory faded. Your throat tightened and you had to excuse yourself. Your eyes hadn't left Valdemar's for all this time. You made your way to the bathroom, closing the door, but not locking it. You took in a quivering breath, the tears coming to your eyes despite your best attempts at holding them back. Tears of joy...

After a while, someone softly knocked on the door, but before you could get a chance to answer, the door opened, revealing the Quaestor. They stepped inside, carefully closing the door behind them without a sound, and pulling down their mask. As they set eyes on you, their expression softened somewhat. You sniffled, quickly wiping your tears away. You were about to say something, but suddenly stopped yourself. No. You didn't need to talk.

You looked at them... They had changed... You were unfamiliar with this lab-coat, those supposed horns wrapped in bandages, and this sickly green skin... But you'd recognize that thin nose and those thin lips, those freckles and those wide, curious eyes, even if they had turned red, anywhere. You had to bite back both your tears and a smile, as you felt them examine you. They took a step or two towards you and carefully lifted your hands into their own, as if to take a closer look at them. They were... Confused. And a foreign feeling tugged at their heart. They didn't know what it was. They just knew it was... Human. Which only confused them further. Scared them, even, although they wouldn't admit it.

Your eyes.

Your soft hands ; their thumb brushed onto the back of them.

Why do you feel so familiar?

This specific accent they heard when you greeted the Countess earlier.

Your warmth.

It's all so familiar...

Who are you?

Why can't they remember?

They remember someone, they can't say who. They remember them like an essence. A feeling. Nothing concrete. They don't remember their face or their voice but they know how they felt around them. They know they talked to them, even if they don't remember the words they said. It's all blurry. It feels like a dream...

Had it been too long? Did their deals make them forget? Why did you trigger their pseudo-memories of that someone?

They don't remember...

Their brows furrowed as despite their best attempts, the answer just wouldn't come back to them. Their grip on your hands tightened slightly.

But you do. You remember now. You can't help a soft smile from tugging at your lips as you look at them fondly. They haven't changed one bit... Factually, they did. But to you ? They were still the same. Deep down, they were still your sweet alchemist. You had missed their voice... You had changed as well, beyond recognition. You were aware of that. Those tedious years you spent in limbo had carried you into body after body, having to live as a wild animal once or twice as to not disappear... You wouldn't tell. Even if your soul was the same. They would either recognize you, or they wouldn't, and you were perfectly fine with both. Your alchemist... They were there, in the flesh. You had to hold back your tears of joy, yet again.

Valdemar sighed, briefly closing their eyes. "...I do not know who you are -they started-, nor do I know where you come from" your heart tickled in your ribs. They locked eyes with you again. "... But I feel as if I am happy to see you again". You nearly lost it, briefly closing your eyes and tilting your head down as to not burst in tears "strange, -you started- I feel the same about you" you chuckled. "Maybe... Forces we don't know of are into play?" you looked back up at them. They didn't seem to like that idea too much "I hope not... I would rather know who is playing with me like that" their tone held nothing negative. You couldn't help but chuckle again "w-well..." you cleared your throat, trying to keep your voice from shaking too much "Whether it is planned or... conducted by something in some way... I don't think this is too bad, eh?" you tentatively asked. They seemed to turn the thought into their head, their red eyes briefly flickering to your hands.

"...I suppose not."

You nodded, fighting for your life tears to not roll down your cheeks. You knew it made you look somewhat suspicious, but if they'd noticed, they didn't comment on it.

"...Say, -they spoke once more- what do you think after... the end of your meeting with the Countess, we spend some time in the library? I feel as if... We have... uhm... Something to catch up on." oh Gods, they absolutely hated when things were blurry and inexplicable. You nodded, practically beaming "I-I would love to." you said, once more looking at your hands in their own.

You both exited the bathroom, hand in hand. You softly let go once you had come back around the drawing room, and Valdemar did the same. However, they sat down next to you. While you joined the conversation between Nadia and Asra, their eyes never left your hand resting on the sofa, withing reach, and once more endless questions tossed and turned in their head... But it looks like the mystery of you was going to stay unsolved...

[winterfergerart]

So I'm gonna make a personal kind of post here. TW for death in the family and my own post-covid symptoms.

Last year my grandfather died. He was the man who raised me, so he was more like a father than a grandfather. As he was getting close to death I was asking my family if there was going to be an inheritance which, I specifically said at the time, I need to know so that I can know what to do about my SSI disability and plan ahead.

People just said I'd get a 'tidy sum' or 'deferred comp' at best. No steady numbers. So without knowing what I'd be getting I had no way to prepare. I think they just thought I was being greedy and wanted to know selfishly. Not that I needed regular medical coverage.

He died without having said anything about being proud of me, but the family found a box of all my pictures growing up in his closet. Other people too, but mostly me, and I didn't know what to do with that because he never really said that he was proud of me or anything.

Because of that his death hit me really hard. Like, the entire span of his slow decline, from the year before to the day he died, I kind of withdrew from a bunch of my friends. Years ago someone put it in my head that wanting help when you're troubled is manipulative so I took it to heart. I pulled away from a bunch of people that made me happy because I didn't want to stress them out with my problems. I pulled back from my hobbies 'cause I didn't trust myself to engage anymore. I was hurting too much.

After he passed, other than a few people, I was all alone.

I received notification concerning my inheritance in December and I filled out the paperwork in early January, specifically requesting that I be given some time to prepare before receiving payments. They didn't listen. So I had to get off SSI, lost my insurance, had to loosely plan to buy some. It's not a lot of money, but it is too much to recieve public assistance.

But I thought, maybe I can do something that makes me less dependent on the government now. I can get married. Maybe I can go back to school. Maybe I can start a small jewelry and miniatures business. Maybe I can invest. Maybe I can start volunteering at domestic violence shelters.

Then two months ago, I caught Covid for the first time in 4 years.

The S.O.? Oh he was fine. It seemed like a bad cold. But me, first it was the fever, and then my lungs deteriorated for two weeks. Doctor round one? "It's a Covid cough, it's expected." Doctor round two? "Yeah, Covid cough can go on for a while. Here's sudafed and cough pills."

It took my blood oxygen to drop into dangerous levels (90%) for anyone to take me seriously. And despite that doctor trying so hard and giving me great meds, I just had a massive relapse and today I'm struggling to breathe again. I'm sitting here crying and coughing up chunks of god knows what. All this being paid out of pocket, because I don't have insurance and no one listened to me. About the inheritance, about the deferred comp, about the insurance, about how badly my lungs were doing post-Covid.

I had been exercising every single day for two years. I was actually starting to lose weight. I was so proud of myself. Now that's all been set back. I was gonna get married. But SSI is holding me in this sort of limbo where I'm not covered but I'm also not free.

I miss my support system. I've loosely tried to reach out but I've not been very good at it because I always sucked at social anyway. I'm sorry that I threw it away while it felt like I could only radiate badness and loss. If any of you are still out there I miss you and I'm sorry I abandoned you. I thought I was doing us both favors and we'd be better off without each other. So I'm throwing it out there that either I'd love to hear from you again, if you're still watching this account, or please just know I'm sorry I let you down.

PS. I don't want money. I just want to see a bright spot again when every time I get ahead I get knocked back.

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

Ψ M is for Maraclea: Chapter Seven

M is for Maraclea: Following an accident you had over summer break, you find yourself in limbo after being legally dead for several minutes. Now an outcast at boarding school, you end up finding comfort in a strange boy named Nigel. As winter draws near and tragedy strikes, your only reprieve from madness comes from a mind much like your own.

Warnings: None.

To Note: Nigel Colbie x Fem!Reader, NAMED Reader for Plot Reasons, There Are A Lot of DARK Themes.

Word Count: ~2.5k

Previous | Masterlist | Next

You stand before the mirror, the velvet dress draping elegantly over your frame. Its rich hue contrasts sharply with your skin, giving you an almost ethereal appearance. The three-quarter sleeves hug your arms snugly, and the square notch neckline reveals just a hint of collarbone yet not scandalous enough that one of the nuns would faint in shock.

You slip into the black heels, feeling their height lift you slightly off the ground. The click of your steps echoes softly in the quiet room as you walk to your jewelry box.

Opening it carefully, you stare at the collection of your mother's pieces. Each one holds a memory, a piece of her that you keep close. Adopted or not, she was still your mother and you treasured what little you had left of her. Your fingers hover over them before picking up the golden English lock earrings. They glint in the dim light as you fasten them to your ears.

Finally, you reach for the pearl necklace. Its luster has dulled slightly with age, but to you, it's perfect. You hold it for a moment, feeling its weight in your hands and recalling how it looked around your mother's neck. With a deep breath, you clasp it around your own.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror again. For a moment, you're not just Mary Forbes; you're someone stronger, someone who carries her mother's grace and resilience. The coldness that usually clings to you seems to dissipate slightly as you stand there, dressed and ready for the night ahead. Nigel's warmth still lingers on your lips.

Stepping back from the mirror, you take one last look at yourself before reaching for your cost. You wrap it around your body and button it tight as you head out of your dorm room. The hall is crowded by equally well dressed girls, all chatting together in preparation of the play tonight. A tribute. Susan's death has affected the play, but the understudy is prepared and the head of the two schools boy agree that the play shall go on in Susan's honor.

You were to be the pianist of the night, Michael nowhere near ready to preform and yet another tribute to Susan since you had been her dorm mate.

You walk with the other girls, their laughter and chatter blending into a single, indistinct hum. The cold air bites at your cheeks, but instead of welcoming it, you wish for Nigel's warm touch. Your heels click against the cobblestone path leading to the boys' academy. The sky above is a deep navy, stars faintly twinkling against its vast expanse.

As you approach the cathedral, its towering spires loom above, casting long shadows on the ground. The entrance is adorned with garlands of evergreen and holly, a somber reminder of the season's festivities juxtaposed with recent sorrow. You follow the group inside, the warmth of the cathedral enveloping you immediately.

The girls in the play scatter, heading to their designated areas to get ready under Ethel's watchful eye. You peel off your coat and drape it over a chair in the changing room. The familiar weight lifts from your shoulders, replaced by a sense of duty and expectation. The pearl necklace feels heavier now, as if reminding you of the evening's significance.

You take a moment to adjust your dress, smoothing out any wrinkles and ensuring everything is in place. The mirror in the changing room reflects back a determined face; you nod at yourself before stepping out.

Navigating through the cathedral's grand hallways, you find your way to the seating area where your father and brother are waiting. Alex spots you first, standing up and waving slightly to catch your attention.

"Mary! Over here," he calls out softly.

You weave through the rows of seats until you're standing beside them. Your father looks up from his program with a small smile, pride evident in his eyes.

"You look beautiful," he says simply.

"Thank you," you reply, offering a small smile in return.

Alex's eyes linger on you for a moment longer before he speaks again. "Are you ready for tonight?"

"I have practiced," you say, glancing around at the gathering crowd. Your gives you an approving nod.

Your father places a hand on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I am sure you will preform beautifully. Susan would be proud." He then walks off leaving you with Alex. Alex takes your arm and leads you to the side room adjacent to the cathedral. It's quieter and a breather from the crowd of guests.

"He's been preening about you all day," Alex mutters, picking up a lighter and reaching for some unlit candles.

"Preening over what?" You ask, reaching out to run your finger over a nearby prop. "My ability to stay silent and play the piano?"

"You're really good at it, sis," Alex reminds you, his eyes lingering on your body. "You wear mothers pearls."

You nod, fingers instinctively touching the pearls. "Yes, I thought they would be appropriate for tonight. You know how father is."

Alex's eyes soften, and he leans in closer. "She would be proud of you, too, you know."

You nod again, not trusting your voice to stay steady. The memory of your mother hangs between you both, a silent acknowledgment of her absence and influence.

You watch Alex strike the match, its tiny flame flickering to life before he uses it to light the first candle. The scent of burning wax mingles with the cathedral's aged air, creating a nostalgic ambiance that pulls at your senses.

As he moves on to the next candle, the door creaks open behind you. A well-dressed couple steps in, their presence immediately commanding attention. They look slightly out of place, their polished shoes and elegant attire contrasting with the worn wooden floor.

"Hi," Alex starts, glancing up from his task. "I'm sorry. You've got to go round to the front of the church."

Before the couple can respond, Nigel strides in with his usual confidence, his eyes brightening as he spots you and Alex.

"Jack," Nigel greets warmly, looking between the couple. "These are my parents, Helen and John." He turns towards the couple with a broad smile. "This is my best friend, Jack. He's working on the play."

Nigel's gaze then shifts to you, and for a moment, you feel exposed under his intense scrutiny. He hadn't seen you in anything but your school uniform and jacket. You give him a soft smile .

"And this," Nigel continues, his voice softening, "is the lovely lady Mary, sister of Jack. She is the pianist tonight."

Helen steps forward first, her eyes softening as they land on you and then Alex. "I've heard lots about you, Jack," she says warmly. "It's lovely to meet you." Then she turns her gaze to you. "And Mary, I fear our son has not done justice to your beauty."

You manage a small smile in response, feeling a strange mix of emotions swirl within you. You wonder what Nigel has spoken to them about you. At least Helen appeared to like you. Alex stands a bit taller beside you. "Nice to meet you both," he replies, his voice steady despite the underlying tension. "But, uh... I'm sorry. I've actually got to head up with this to the stage and Mary needs to warm up."

Alex ushers you towards the practice piano behind the stage, his grip on your arm firm but gentle. The noise of the gathering crowd fades into the background, replaced by the rhythmic sound of your heels clicking against the floor. You feel a pang of anxiety twist in your stomach as you approach the familiar instrument.

"Mary, focus," Alex whispers as he glances over his shoulder at Nigel's parents, who are now engaged in conversation with some of the other attendees.

You steal a quick glance back at Nigel, standing there with that ever-present smile that fills you with warmth. His eyes lock onto yours for a brief moment, and you feel a burst of warmth fill you.

"Here we are," Alex says softly as you reach the piano. He lets go of your arm and gestures towards the bench. "Take a seat and start warming up. I'll be right here."

You nod and slide onto the bench, your fingers hovering above the keys. The smooth, cool surface feels reassuring under your touch. Taking a deep breath, you begin to play a simple scale to loosen up your fingers for the night.

As your fingers dance across the keys, you steal another glance back at door to the chapel. Would he fill you wish warmth as your fingers pluck a symphony?

"Mary," Alex's voice cuts through your thoughts. "Focus."

"I am, brother dear," you snip at him quietly, your fingers gliding over the keys effortlessly.

Your fingers move with a fluidity that feels almost natural now. The simple scale you started with has evolved into a soft, haunting melody, one that fills the room with an almost palpable atmosphere. You lose yourself in the music, letting it numb the thoughts that crowd your mind.

"Mary," Alex says again, softer this time. You don't look at him but you can feel his eyes on you, watching every move. It's a mix of worry and pride, the same blend of emotions he always carries when it comes to you.

The door creaks open, and you hear Ethel's sharp footsteps approaching. Her presence is unmistakable—stern and commanding. You don't need to look up to know it's her; the air itself seems to tighten with her arrival.

"Mary," she says, her voice crisp and clear. "It's time for you to take your position at the piano."

You stop playing and turn to face her. Ethel stands there in her usual no-nonsense attire, her eyes scanning you from head to toe. She nods approvingly, perhaps noticing the pearls around your neck or the way your dress falls just right.

"You're ready," she states more than asks.

You nod in response, rising from the bench. Alex steps back slightly, giving you space but staying close enough that his presence remains a comfort.

"Follow me," Ethel instructs as she turns on her heel and heads toward the stage area. You fall in step behind her, feeling the weight of the evening settle onto your shoulders once more.The hallway leading to the stage are dimly lit, casting long shadows on the floor. Your heels click softly against the polished wood as you walk, each step bringing you closer to your role for the night. The murmurs of the audience grow louder as you approach, a hum of anticipation filling the air.

Ethel stops just before reaching the stage entrance and turns to you one last time. Her eyes soften ever so slightly—a rare occurrence—and she places a hand on your shoulder.

"You'll do fine," she says simply before turning away to address some other matter.

You take a deep breath and step forward onto the stage area. The grand piano stands there, gleaming under the soft lights like an old friend waiting for your touch. You glide over to it, each step measured and deliberate.

You sit at the piano, fingers poised above the keys. The audience settles into their seats, a hush falling over the room as anticipation thickens the air. The lights dim slightly, drawing all eyes to the stage.

A tall man steps forward, his presence commanding attention. He clears his throat and begins to speak, his voice resonating through the cathedral.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to tonight's performance of Lord Tennyson's play Becket."

His words hang in the air for a moment, allowing the significance of the evening to sink in.

"The presentation of this play has seen its own vicissitudes," he continues, "with the tragic death last month of Susan Mueller."

A murmur ripples through the audience, a collective sigh of remembrance and sorrow.

"As a gesture to her memory," he says, pausing to let the gravity of his words take hold, "her parents asked that the play should proceed. So we dedicate tonight's performance to the memory of Susan Mueller."

Silence follows, heavy and respectful. The man steps back, giving you a nod. It's your cue.

With a gentle press, you begin to play. The first notes are soft and mournful, setting the tone for the evening. The melody flows from your fingertips effortlessly, filling the cathedral with a haunting beauty that seems to resonate with every heart present.

Actors step onto the stage with grace and purpose, their movements synchronized with your music. Your music intertwines with their voices, creating a seamless blend of sound and emotion.

As the final act concludes, you bring the melody to a soft, poignant close. The silence that follows is heavy, then broken by applause. You lift your hands from the keys and bow your head slightly, acknowledging the audience's appreciation. The actors take their bows, and you join them for a brief moment before slipping into the background.

You linger behind the stage, your fingers aching from the performance but your heart feeling strangely light. The noise of congratulations and chatter fills the air as people begin to disperse. You rub your fingers, trying to soothe the dull throb in your fingertips.

Nigel appears beside you as if called by your thoughts. He holds out a single red rose, its vibrant color standing out starkly against the dim surroundings.

"For you," he says, his voice soft but carrying an unmistakable intensity.

You take the rose from him, your fingers brushing against his as you do. The touch sends a shiver through you, a warmth that contrasts sharply with your usual craving for cold.

"Thank you," you whisper, looking up into his eyes. Nigel's blue eyes are dark and intense, holding you in their gaze. You feel the warmth of his touch linger on your fingers as you clutch the rose.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his voice low and concerned.

You nod, swallowing hard. "I think so. It's just... a lot and my fingers ache."

Nigel's eyes hold yours as he gently takes your hand. His touch is soft, almost reverent. You feel his fingers wrap around yours, warming your colder ones instantly. He lifts your hand to his mouth, his breath warm against your skin.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you watch him, entranced by the tenderness in his gaze. He presses his lips to your fingers, one by one, as if trying to kiss away the pain that lingers there. Each kiss is light and delicate, sending shivers down your spine.

You can't help but feel a strange mix of emotions—comfort, vulnerability, and something else you can't quite name. His eyes never leave yours, and for a moment, it's as if the rest of the world fades away.

"Better?" he asks softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nod, unable to find the words to express what you're feeling. The ache in your fingers seems to lessen under his touch, replaced by a warmth that spreads through you.

"Thank you," you manage to say, your voice barely audible.

Nigel smiles, a small but genuine smile that reaches his eyes. "Anything for you, my lovely Maraclea."

Date Published: 6/30/24

Last Edit: 6/30/24

Previous | Masterlist | Next

[epickiya722]

Just a headcanon, but if Yuji and Takako were distant relatives this is what I imagine.

They were already getting along before finding out they were related. They understood each other after one conversation. For Takako, it was nice that for once she had someone who listened to her after a very, very long time not having someone. Yuji was sympathetic, getting how it feels to not feel like you have an identity of your own... just a tool for someone else to later get rid of.

With Takako and Yuji getting along, Choso and Takako also would get along. They get how it feels to be out of place after being in limbo of sorts for many, many years. Also, both care a lot about Yuji and the feeling is mutual.

Yuji and Takako would have some interesting conversations. Takako would tell Yuji all about what she can remember of her life before her death and Yuji would talk to her about how society is now and even show her his favorite movies. Constant movie nights.

With Takako being around, it means run-ins with Yuta. She makes her mission to be a nuisance to him. When she found out about Gojo's existence and being related to Yuta, he became no expectation. For once, there was someone who bothers him.

When meeting the others, Takako actually brushed off seeing a talking panda. "I've seen stranger."

The subject of whether or not they were related was brought up by Miwa during a visit between Kyoto and Tokyo. She mentioned how her hair is naturally blue and Yuji told her about his hair being naturally pink and Takako the same. It lead to her stating they could be related since they both have pink hair.

Of course, it was argued it could have just been a coincidence. But Yuji and Takako were both delighted by the idea.

It took a very, very long time to track down any family history about the Itadori bloodline that they can, but they managed and after some research and tests it turns out there may be a possibility.

Like, Yuji, Takako is also indecisive about clothing. "I don't wear any when I'm using my technique!! Who cares about how clothes should look on someone anyways!!" Nobara never thought she had to school two Itadori's on clothing. Even Gojo was taken back. Takako loves jewelry though. And like Yuji with hoodies, she opts for tank tops.

She has quite the appetite and doesn't have a least favorite food. In the kitchen, she's quite lethal with a knife.

A couple of times, they got into it over snacks just how siblings do.

Anything sports related, the others have to make sure they're not on the same team. They're too powerful!

It was Gojo and Yuta who learned this the hard way when one day they decided to have a volleyball game without any cursed energy and techniques involved. Imagine how that went.

Turns out, Takako likes to dance and is really good at it. Yuji was quick to show her all the variety of music of today and how to access it. Takako will a cell phone means her constantly sending music and dance video links to Yuji in excitement.