#but also like. i Never met him. he died long before i was born

[nexus-nebulae]

it's kinda funny how similar to my grandpa i am considering my birthday was three days after his

[titania-sleeps]

Human Bloodbag Yandere x Vampire Reader

so i totally lied when i said i would wait until next month to post this. i offer you another good boy.

as a note, his characterization is a little different from my initial idea of him but i ended up liking this more. there's no explicit scene in here except a lil biting here and there but that won't be true for future Dion works >:3

• Dion was born and bred your bloodbag. From birth until the moment he dies, he will be your bloodbag.

• Dion never really had a choice. In the world that he knew, all humans were subservient to their vampiric masters. His parents were never truly his; they were the servants of Mordred the Terrifying. Like all the other human children in this world, his blood was crafted with a specific monster in mind.

• Dion's blood was sweet. Pure saccharine and hints of despair. He was mixed with you in mind, a candidate to replace one in the Council of the Elder Ancestors.

• Dion first met you when you were six and he was seven. He was struck with both an intense loathing and a gentle warmth. His master was standing in front of him, yet he couldn't bear to look at you in the eyes. You weren't impressed with him either, but at the very least, you didn't look at him with contempt.

• Dion spent the month as your personal servant under the instruction of your governess, Madam Lilith Hatheway. He learned to distinguish the sickly pleasantries of poison from your plain juice. He learned to fend off potential enemies and greet your benefactors. He learned the sharpness of knives and how humans could bleed ever so easily. He learned hatred, abhorrence, desperation, eagerness, joy, and elation all in the time he spent with you.

• Dion nearly fled the day he was meant to be bitten by you. Fear coursed through his veins, but Madam Lilith held him still and your eyes were daggers pinning him to the ground. You approached him with a simple glide of your steps, and your teeth were upon his exposed neck before a scream could escape his throat.

• Dion's vision grew blurry as the world spun around him. Or perhaps the world was spinning around you and he was caught up in it. You are the gravity of his world and he had to fall into you. You remained attached to his neck for an eternity, and he soon found himself losing consciousness.

• Dion woke up the next day, having grown to be eight years of human age, and you sitting next to his bedside. He was distinctly alive, yet also empty of what little fear and life he had clung onto so desperately in the last month.

• Dion listened to you closely as you explained with thinly veiled concern that he was now bonded to you. For as long as you were alive, he would be too. Under your curse, he would no longer experience the same emotions as a free human. Instead, his emotions would slowly be replaced by an undeniable sense of servitude towards you.

• Dion couldn't mourn the passing of what he had never possessed. He accepted his fate and swore his loyalty to you. You looked displeased.

• Dion remained by your side for the next hundred years as you matured. You treated him coldly but not unkindly. Perhaps it was because of your bitter nature that he never grew the attachment for you that he was promised. But he was fond of you, and it was not due to fate or the blood bond that the two of you shared that created this emotion in him.

• Dion never faulted you for binding him to you. The Elder Ancestors demanded you to bite him, and he knew you couldn't deny them. You were six, and they were more than six thousand.

• Dion knew too well the emotions that went through you every day. He could feel it from your gaze and from the blood in his veins. Guilt, displeasure, fear, and a sprinkle of affection. And as he gazed back into your eyes, he knew that you were just like him. A cog in the machinations of this limiting cage, engineered and designed to sustain itself for centuries upon centuries.

• Dion blamed it on his faulty sense of camaraderie, but he couldn't help himself from trying to get closer to you. Another decade passed before he saw your sincere smile for the first time. But it wasn't directed at him.

• Dion, for the first time, understood what others would call "blood boiling." His body was heated in fury as you exchanged casual pleasantries with another vampire gentleman your age. You seemed to be immediately infatuated with his dark brows and suave demeanor, but Dion didn't let it advance. For years upon years, he has known you to be a glacial creature, blue blood and ice running in your veins. Are you only now to tell him that you could experience the same joy and despair that he could?

• Dion intercepted this shameful display of... of whatever it was. You were of greater nobility than this meager creature, so there was no need for you to be conversing so vibrantly with him.

• Dion drove the man away and you brought Dion home in a fit of rage. You were still young and he was not much older than you, but even then, he felt you were being unreasonable. You claimed that he was jealous because of the blood bond you shared with him, but he knew that couldn't have been the case. It was not gentle jealousy that he held towards the man, but righteous anger.

• Dion succumbed himself to your punishment, which was rather weak for how furious you seemed. He was roughly pushed onto your bed, your fangs baring at him. The bite was filled with your sadness and loneliness, and he embraced your form joyously.

• Dion didn't push you away as you sucked his blood endlessly. The venom you injected into him filled him with adult pleasure*. He held his body still as his arms pulled you even closer to him. Throwing his head back, he laughed. It was a carefree sound, not at all suitable for a bird in a cage. His laugh startled you and you unmounted your fangs from his neck, staring at him incredulously.

• Dion urged you to continue sucking his blood. He would agree to give you him wholly if you would only suck his blood and only his. You were confused; he was already yours in name and in blood. What more of him could he give you? Then you peered into his eyes.

• Dion's eyes were the color of turbulent waves that swept and drowned those who were unwary. They held the deepest of blues and the darkest of greys. A treasure trove of desires and epiphanies opened to you as you dove deeper.

• Dion cocked his head to the side, baring his neck. Your puncture brought pink to the skin surrounding the wound, but no blood seeped out. A knowing smile danced on his lips.

• Dion was a monster you created. So you have to take responsibility for him.

* my vampire headcanon is that you don't get the aphrodisiac or whatever tf vampires inject into their victims until you come of age

-> masterlist

[mrsriddlenott]

~ Caught VI ~

Mattheo Riddle x fem!Reader

[masterlist][last part]

This is gonna be Christmas centered(gift giving and such)even though it’s almost Halloween😭🤷‍♀️thought it was cute.

I’m sorry if this is a bit long, I’m tryna get in some real plot with this chapter🤞🥰

Warnings: A Lil Angst(in the beginning), VeryFluffy,SweetSmut,Unprotected PinV, DaddyKink. Sex Toys Mentioned&Alludes to Bondage(future pt😉)

“Are you sure we’re allowed to be in here?” Mattheo asked in a hushed whisper as you pushed the heavy door of your manor’s library shut behind you both.

“I’m the only one who ever comes in here, they won’t even hear us talking all the way in the back.” You sighed out, the ball had just ended and your father had unsurprisingly pulled your mother into his study, likely to “brief” her on his plans.

“I know I should have told you ages ago and it was wrong of me to keep it from you….and all of our friends. But I just couldn’t, I couldn’t even form the words to tell you he was a Death Eater, let alone what he’s been planning since….he went into hiding.” Mattheo listened to your hushed words intently, wincing slightly at your mention of his father as you led him to a small leather loveseat in the far back corner of the large, dusty library.

“I knew I’d tell you eventually….I guess I just got so caught up in everything else that I never decided to try. Or maybe I was just too scared you’d never talk to me again. Honestly I don’t know.” You shook your head as you sat on the cold leather, Mattheo remained hovering, standing in front of you as you avoided his eyes.

“I had a half-brother, Will. He died before I was born in the First Wizarding War. My dad tried to run with his first wife, so his wife and son were killed. He married my mom for the money that marrying into my grandfather’s family promised, and then had me to make sure he got the inheritance.” You didn’t notice when you started crying or when Mattheo joined you on the seat to comfort you. The story was clear in your mind as though it happened to you, you grew up under your fathers hatred, and knew every small detail of his obsession.

Your father was one of very few people who knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the Dark Lord did not die on Halloween of ‘81, and when he inevitably came back to power almost 3 years ago, it all was meant to fall into action. Your father played the dutiful follower as he weaseled his way into his inner circle. Your mother was to play the innocent housewife as she absorbed all information from the wives and husbands of the other Death Eaters. And you….you were to get their children to tell you anything they knew of their parents assignments. However, you threw a wrench in that plan before it even began, you’d never hurt your friends, and once you started dating Mattheo it was solidified.

And your father hated you for it.

It only took one year at Hogwarts for your love of your friends to overpower your love for your father. You fed him lies and misinformation or avoided home all together, but somehow could never come out and tell your friends why you introduced yourself to them in the first place. By the time you realized you should have, they were your new family, you couldn’t imagine them turning around and hating you just because of this mistake. So whether consciously or not you weren’t sure, but you hid it, for almost 6 years, you hid it. Even as your father approached his goal, even knowing all of their families would be caught in the crossfire when he succeeded.

“You don’t need to tell me it all tonight,” Mattheo whispered in a small voice nothing like his usual cocky tone. Your bloodshot eyes met his in a pleading look as you tried to speak.

“No I do, I….I should have told you years ago, I should have told all of you years ago.” Mattheo was a smart person, he’d already guessed what your role in this was, and considering him and his father were still very much alive, he also guessed you didn’t quite play the role you were given correctly. Despite the pit in his stomach about what he’s going to have to do to protect you, he was soaring over your loyalty. The fact that you were here in front of him, and not in your fathers study, had his heart hammering in his chest. If he hadn’t already planned to marry you, he certainly would have decided to right here.

“No Gorgeous, you really don’t….I think….I think I already know.” He sighed with a soft smile as he took your chin in his thumb and forefinger, turning you to look at him with your bloodshot, teary eyes. Mattheo delicately brought the thumb of his other hand to wipe your tears away, like you were a piece of art he was preserving. His lips followed suit, pampering light kisses down both your cheeks as he whisperered, “It’s okay y/n, I know and I’m still here, I’m always going to be here.”

Your body practically fell into him as you collapsed into sobs of gratitude and relief. Mattheo’s arms wrapped around you as though it was what they were made to do, pulling you into his lap as he settled into the loveseat further. He let you sob into his neck, brushing tangles from your hair with his fingers and speaking softly of your future together in your ear until you were silently breathing deeply and lightly snoring into him.

“You’re safe Baby, you’ll never have to come back here I promise you that.” Mattheo listened to your breathing deepen as you fell into a dreamless sleep in his arms, but continued to speak, “You’re the only part of this world that matters Darling,” He nuzzled his nose into your hair as his eyelids fell, content right here with you, “I will let it all burn just for you my beautiful Angel” He let out a deep sigh as though finally stripping himself of a great burden on his shoulders, “You’re all that matters to me,” His fingers curled into you hair deeper as his hand on your waist pulled your sleeping form in closer in a protective hold.

He stayed holding you for what felt like an eternity while so short at the same time before gently rising with you in his arms, carrying you bridal style as he maneuvered through the dusty bookshelves to the door. He found your room easily, he’d been there before as a child, you and the rest of the boys had spent practically all of Winter, Spring, and Summer Holiday your First Year there. He’d never understood why you’d never invited them again, but now he saw it clearly as a form of protection. Your father likely loved the idea of the sons of all of Voldemorts best followers, and his own son, coming around his manor with their guards down.

It was much different now, the large circular bed in front of the arched window was now covered in shades of red with black pillows instead of the purples he’d remembered from years ago. The vanity directly across the bed was new as well, it’s large mirror sparkled with the reflection of the stars behind the headboard of your bed as he placed you on it. He swore you looked like a princess, the color of your dress clashing with the bed only drawing his attention to you more while he retreated to remove your heels, struggling to unclip them before tossing them aside with a huff of annoyance.

You stirred slightly as he untied the strings on the back of your dress and began softly pulling it down. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with it so just draped it across a fuzzy chair in the corner with a shrug before ridding himself of his tie, suit jacket, and pants. He unbuttoned his shirt as he crawled slowly onto the bed behind you, trying his hardest to let you sleep while attempting to get his shirt on over your arms. You woke up only for a second, allowing him to slip you into his shirt as you voiced your annoyance in a few grumbled sentences before slipping back into your dreams, snuggling into his scent and giving him a warm feeling in his chest.

He found it easy to fall into a dreamless sleep, something he was never used to until you were a constant in his life. Under your blankets surrounded by your scent, he felt safe, he felt you were safe, he pulled you into his chest with a content sigh. He’d been waiting weeks to sleep beside you again, and he didn’t plan to be sleeping alone anytime soon.

The next morning Mattheo woke you with kisses to your neck and face, allowing you to adjust to the early morning light before ushering you to get dressed and ready to go. “We’re going back to Hogwarts….or anywhere you want…” Just not here, he thought, wanting more than anything to have you out of this house before your father even realized he planned to.

Repacking your trunk was much faster with Mattheo grabbing things and throwing them in before yanking it up and escorting you out of your own house. Before you recognized what was happening you were being Apparated to right outside the Hogwarts grounds and tugged through a tunnel you had no idea existed.

“Matty what is this?” The tunnel was cramped, barley enough space for the both of you as he guided you around as though he’d been there before.

“It’s a tunnel he made when he went here, not even Harry or the Weasleys know about it so we’ll be safe in here while we get back to the castle.” You didn’t need to ask who he meant by he and you definitely didn’t need to ask why he seemed to know it like the back of his hand.

“Oh” Your voice was small and meek as you started to realize he was keeping things from you too, you didn’t know whether to feel relieved that you weren’t the only one keeping secrets or worried about what he felt was too dangerous to inform you about. You knew he had unavoidable meetings with his father, you knew he had to do things to stay alive and you didn’t blame him, but it hurt you to think about the fact that you’d never really thought about what must be happening.

You’d seen his scars and fresh wounds every month, but he’d always say he had it under control and for some reason you always listened. A part if you wanted to know everything right then, while the other, much larger part, was wishing you’d run away with Mattheo when you had the chance.

After what felt like hours you emerged from behind a statue in a dimly lit corridor somewhere in the dungeons. Mattheo took your hand like it was second nature, allowing your trunk to float along behind him while escorting you to his dorm. The corridors were empty and cold, most of the remaining student body gone on holiday, the castle that used to bring comfort to generations of young witches and wizards, now held a lingering sense of danger, like something wrong was hiding just behind the corner.

And as you watched Mattheo’s focused eyes, clenched jaw, and possessive hand, you thought there just might be.

~~~~

Christmas at Hogwarts was always worth looking forward to, it gave even the most damaged of us a chance to let loose. But as you looked around the Slytherin Common room, realizing it was almost midnight on December 24th and not a single person seemed to care, you decided that just for the next 24 hours, there wasn’t a single thing wrong. You would tell everyone the truth on the 26th and everything would be okay. You were sure of it.

Even if it was just you and Mattheo, you were celebrating Christmas like you did every year. Huddled up in the boys dorm, drinking spiked hot chocolate, fighting over the best Christmas songs, and giving each other presents.

Mattheo wasn’t shocked to see you sauntering through his door with a bottle of firewhiskey and wrapped boxes as you had for the past 5 years. His heart sank slightly as he watched your eyes swivel around the un-decorated and empty dorm room.

“Wh-,” They had decorated their dorm room every year, at first it started with you bringing them little ornaments from a village by your manor your first Christmas together. By your second Christmas, Mattheo took it upon himself to buy a miniature Christmas tree. A memory you could never forget, a chilly December evening organizing only 5 ornaments along it. Arguing slightly all the way until Mattheo told the boys to just listen to you. It was one of the first moments you even realized you liked the curly headed boy.

From that year on, every member of the friend group was ensured to get at least one gift, a new ornament for the dorm tree. Which was still stuffed in it’s box under Mattheo’s nightstand. Mattheo followed your eyes to it and sighed, “I’m sorry Baby, I completely forgot to decorate this year and all the boys got an owl to come home so I did-“

“It’s okay Matty,” You gave him a soft smile as you set your bottle and packages on his bed and took your seat beside them.

“I’ll set it up now and we can decorate it together, Enzo and Blaise left some gifts behind so w-“ He stopped abruptly as you flopped backward further onto his bed with an exaggerated sigh.

“What a shame, all of your dorm mates gone and no way to be caught in the act, the horror,” You giggled slightly as your sarcasm began to settle in his mind and a smile tugged on his lip.

“Don’t act like you don’t absolutely love when we’re almost caught, I can feel how you clench around me Princess,” He stalked towards you as he leant himself against the bedposts at the end of the frame, eyeing the way you bit back a laugh and sat yourself up on your elbows.

“Okay Mr. “Scream My Name,” Your voice held an unusual mix of teasing and dominance that Mattheo wasn’t quite used to as you swayed your leg and watched while his tongue subconsciously wet his lips.

“Mmm, don’t tempt me Princess. I wanted to open presents first.” He faked a pout, watching your skirt slide up your moving thigh as your fingers moved to slowly unbutton your shirt.

“Am I not a present fit to be unwrapped Mr.Riddle?” You teased as you licked across you teeth and played at the second button on your shirt. Mattheo groaned from deep in his chest as his head fell backwards, his jaw clenched as he tried to collect himself.

“Baby, I have a plan and if you call me that again you’re gonna miss out. You don’t wanna miss out do you Gorgeous?” His eyes met yours, the dark spark you knew meant he was in control having you bite at your smile and shake your head, still slightly playing with the buttons on your shirt.

“Good girl, now come here,” Mattheo suddenly pushed off the bedposts and motioned for you to follow with a wiggle of two of his fingers.

“I thought I’d have to give these to you late but since you’re here,” Mattheo sighed happily as he pulled out a trunk from under his bed, “Sit on the edge….now.” You were slightly confused but after a second followed his orders, swaying your feet and waiting patiently as he unlocked the trunk with two loud clicks.

“Your first set,” You narrowed your eyes at him as he set two neatly wrapped black boxes beside you, both tied with a red bow. “First….set?” Mattheo only nodded his head with a happy little smile before urging you to open them with his outstretched hands. The first and smallest was expected, a delicate glass snowflake ornament hanging from a silver ribbon.

“Perfect, I can hang it on the tree when it’s set up,” You said happily as you gently set it back in it’s box, “Actually that’s gonna be the first to go on our tree.” Mattheo interjected, making you giggle up at him before realizing he was entirely serious.

“It may collect some dust while I find the perfect cottage for you,” He said with a wave of his hands, “but that’s the first place it’s going, nowhere else”

“Okay Matty, it’s decided,” You laughed as you grabbed at your, significantly less neat, golden wrapped package. Mattheo’s hand dramatically shot to his chest as his mouth dropped open, “For me?” he gasped sarcastically, ripping it from your hands as he opened it.

“Oh fuck Baby, is this the one we saw in Diagon Alley?” Mattheo’s voice was filled with excitement you rarely got to hear as he pulled out the thick silver ring with a snake tangled around the front. He haphazardly shoved it on each of his fingers before ultimately settling on his right pointer finger.

“How does it look Gorgeous?” He held up his pointer and middle finger, letting the others fall beside them as he watched you bite at your lip. “Can’t wait to find out what it’ll look like halfway inside of you…mm” He seemed to be in his own world as he eyed the ring, fitting perfectly with the other two he already wore on that hand, before shaking his head slightly, “Guess we’ll have to wait and see, your turn again.”

You shook your head, blinking rapidly with a shocked smile before reaching for the next box, his eyes lighting up to follow as though he’d just remembered what was hidden behind the wrapping paper. It was was longer and thinner than the last box, opening on a hinge to reveal a golden necklace with a heart shaped ruby dangling in the middle.

“Gods Matty….” You whispered, feeling across the necklace delicately with your fingertips. “It’s beautiful,”

“Can I put it on for you Princess?” Mattheo asked as he crawled on the bed around you, reaching for the necklace before you could answer. Clasping it quickly and leaving a kiss on the base of your neck, whispering with a confident smirk, “It has my initials carved in the middle of the heart.”

You chuckled as you felt at the pendent hanging between your collarbones, grabbing at the next package while Mattheo began kissing up and down the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine as his breath fanned against your cold skin. You turned in his arms, handing him his hext gift with a smile. “And here’s your ornament,” Mattheo gasped as though he was offended, snatching the package mumbling, “Don’t ruin my surprise Baby,”

“I get you one every year, besides you don’t know what’s on it, now open it,” He huffed while ripping at the messily placed tape, halting slightly, staring down at a handmade ornament in the shape of a gingerbread house. A moving picture of you and him from almost two years ago sat where the door would have been, a picture that was taken only days after he realized he was madly in love with you, something he wasn’t sure you knew. Making it ten times better.

“I’ve changed my mind, your snowflake will be the second ornament on our tree.” His gaze met yours as a smile grew on his face, laughing while gently placing it into it’s box and leaning back to set it on his nightstand. “I wanna open my last one before you get more.”

Mattheo’s voice was stern and matter of factly, taking his last present from beside you as you nervously chewed the insides of your cheek. He wasted no time ripping into it, looking between you and the box as his brows bunched together, delicately pulling out a silk red tie, “Now, no offense Darling, but red isn’t really my color,”

“No….but it is mine.” Mattheo watched as you bit your lip before looking back at the box, realization settling in as he clutched the tie hard in his hand, closing his eyes as he groaned slightly.

“You know they say great minds think alike….” He spoke after a second of gathering himself, kissing your cheek before slipping off the bed and reaching back into the trunk, retreating with two larger wrapped boxes.

“This one first,” He all but shoved the box at you, watching you intently as he bounced in front of you. You slowly unwrapped the box, delicately removing each piece of tape as Mattheo narrowed his eyes at you threateningly. “I’m gonna open it myself if you don’t hurry up.”

“Okay okay” You giggled, tearing through the rest of the paper and throwing off the lid of a deep red box. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared down at its contents, a black blindfold neatly wrapped around a set of fuzzy handcuffs, a vibrator, and a collar on a chain. Your face burned as you looked up to a now very nervous Mattheo.

“Is it too much? Do you not like the idea? We can just move on to the next one if-“ He rambled as you looked up at him with a smile, reaching into the box as he spoke.

“Is this a remote Mattheo?” You asked teasingly, biting your lip at Mattheo’s sigh of relief from your demeanor. “Hell yeah it is Baby, that’s more for me though,” He was immediately back to his regular cocky self as he snatched the remote and slipped it into his pocket.

“Saved the best for last.” Mattheo sighed, handing you the largest of the four and watching you intently. He knew exactly which would he your favorite, and knew exactly which one to save for last. You smiled brightly up to him as you pulled out the red, loose weight thigh length dress from it’s box.

“Matty! I love it, thank you,” You practically screamed as you jumped up to hug him, laughing as he lifted you up by your waist. He chuckled in your ear, wrapping your legs around him, pulling you back to look at your face.

“Anything for you Gorgeous,” He said breathlessly as he smashed his lips into yours in a passionate kiss, stealing the breath from your lungs while his tongue began exploring your mouth immediately.

“Fucking hell I love you, you’re the best thing to ever happen to me ya know that,” He growled, kissing down your neck, nipping at it aggressively as he mindlessly cleared the bed of presents, papers, and boxes before laying you down softly and crawling up your body to meet your lips again. Mattheo quickly rid himself of his shirt, pulling at yours as you slid your skirt and panties off, Mattheo cursed as he jumped from the bed to shove his sweats and boxers off. Tripping over them in a rush to join you back on the bed, falling on you slightly as you fell into a fit of laughter.

“Yeah yeah whatever, come here,” He huffed, pulling your face in to an aggressive kiss. He nipped at your lips and battled your tongue with his, your teeth knocking together as you breathed heavily into each other’s mouths. His hands trailed slowly down your sides, stopping at your hips to tug you forward, plowing into without warning, a whine of a moan fell from you as Mattheo sighed and fell into you, holding himself up on his forearms as he began softly fucking into you.

Mattheo’s lips trailed along your shoulder, stoping only to moan as you circled your hips to his slow thrusts. Your fingers found themselves tangled his hair, tugging slightly as the others trailed down his toned back with a teasing scratch. He groaned in your ear, picking up his pace only slightly as he rocked his hips into yours. He lifted his head to meet your eyes as you clenched around him, steadying himself with a hand on your hip, increasing his pace further as he watched your head fall back with a moan of appreciation.

Mattheo felt himself twitch inside you as your nails dug into his back and tugged at his hair, he wasn’t gonna last long after not having you for weeks, but he wanted you to come first. He slowed himself down to an agonizingly slow pace as you whined under him, he balanced himself on a hand beside your head as he brushed his free hand from your hip down your thigh before suddenly bringing it to rush fast circles onto your clit. Picking up his pace and falling back into your neck, licking a stripe from the base of your neck to your ear, whisperering against it’s shell as you shivered, “You like that Princess? Do you like being fucked after I spoil you?”

All you could do to respond was nod weakly as he groaned against your bruised neck, “Do you like it when Daddy treats you like a Princess?” For a second Mattheo stalled, as though he didn’t mean to let the name slip, but quickly picked up his pace as you wiggled below him with a whine of “Yes”

He looked down at you with a wild, daring smile as his eyes darkened further, “Yes what?” He growled, thrusting into you harder as you tried to speak, jumbling your words as you began to lose focus.

“Daddy, ye- Oh fuck, Yes Dadd-“ Mattheo cut you off with a wicked smile as he ruthlessly pounded into you, you were shaking with the bed as his thrusts became irregular and his fingers slowed. Your head felt dizzy as you clamped around him, feeling his cum spill inside you sending you over the edge as you screamed his name.

You came together as Mattheo collapsed on top of you. “That’s much better than our past Christmas traditions,” You sighed in a breathless voice as Mattheo’s arms snaked around your naked waist, cuddling you into him while still inside.

“I love you, and I plan to spend every Christmas I have left with you,” Mattheo whispered in a suddenly very serious tone.

~~~~

Caught VII

I hope this Isn’t weird or anything because I absolutely love it🥰🥰

-HP Taglist-

@timmytime17 @talia-scar123 @spencer-reids-wife @ttsbaby01 @animorose @whydoireadanymore @thievin-stealing @spiderman-stilinski @evycloudberry @shady-the-simp @ashisabitgay @porterport @callsignwidow @cicicicicisstuff @mattheoriddleswifee @junebugin-july @moonlightreader649 @devotedlyshadowytheorist @rubyliquor @perverteddsdreams @mildly-delulu @fairydimples07 @shadowmoonlight0604 @80scinemvasworld @nevillescomslut @annaisabookworm @abaker74 @athenalikethegoddess

[dukecollinsbf]

gulp... darlin hcs... this is kinda long... i use he/they pronouns here. hes a cis dude in my eyes i just type they out of instinct.

hes called julius

mexican-asian! (their dad is mexican, their mom is cambodian. they were born in mexico but moved to washington when their dad got a better job opportunity.)

his dad has a teardrop tattoo and one of those "cut here" tattoos on his neck. he's also blind in one eye

their mom is beautiful but #evil. she always had her nails painted dark red

julius' favourite colour is dark red

he got 4 siblings!! hes the middle.

their older sister was the typical 2000s teen girl. ik yall are envisioning the hairstyle im talking about. she also brags about how she loved leopard print before it got popular.

also shes a kesha lover. now she listens to chappell roan. she IS casual.

as an adult, their younger brother works with animals! their older sister has an online job and their older brother is a mechanic. their younger sister is in college and julius hates her bf. the one sided beef is crazy. theyve never even met in person.

he did boxing as a teen and his little sister used to do dance

ik more of the fandom wants them to have happy childhood BUT NOT ME!!!!!!1

BOOM UR PARENTS SUCK!!

their dad sold their wii for drug money (am i projecting)

their mom is worst than their dad muahahahahah

they had a saint bernard called Pooch growing up and a yappy little chihuahua that his mom loved. that dog also refused to die. like im talking this dog got attacked by a bigger dog and had a tumor and got hit by a car and survived. by the time the dog died it had a leg missing and was blind. the vet bills were crazy

even tho their parents were shitty, they could never bring themselves to hate them even though they wanted to. when either of them would pass out on the couch, he'd cover them with a blanket and clean the living room and kitchen. when his mom would be upset, he'd sit and listen to her even tho she never did the same to him

he doesnt talk to his parents now and he makes jokes about what he went thru to cope, but he wonders if they're doing okay, if they got healed and became better people or if they passed away and they never knew.

the bond they had with their unempowered friend was the same bond asher, david and milo have. his friend was called trevor.

julius was trevors first kiss because trevor complained about feeling like a loser since everyone started dating around their teen years LMFAO

their first concert was a metallica one that they went to with quinn

they worked as a waiter for a while as a teenager and had a work bestie that was like 40

guyliner...........

I STOLE THIS HC FROM A FIC IVE READ IF YOU FIND IT PLZ LMK SO I CAN CREDIT!! but they worked in a fighting ring at one point

my own add on to the same hc: during this time, they had a shitty little apartment and the most decorated space was a dresser dedicated to their fish, soda pop. that fish was spoiled as fuck and he cried when soda pop died

he frequented a diner to the point the lady behind the counter knew his order beat for beat

when they were teenagers, asher took inspo from their style. they used to wear those little black wrist bands with the little spikes (do yall know what im talking about) and thats where ashers love for his spiked collar came from

they do not have a single pair of blank socks. they all have some sort of stupid design on them

also ofc, the rubber duck, courtesy of domini.

they hate haircuts

they HATE the grocery store. they get overstimulated and wanna die immediately.

best meal theyve ever made for themselves is mac and cheese. from those little boxes.

aggro bit them one time and theyre still upset over it

TATTED AS FAWK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and they have piercings GODDDD THEYRE SO FINE

they also have sharp canines (im bouta bust)

i know yall want asher to have heterochromia but i hc julius has it. HOWEVER! I hc asher has anisocoria (one pupil bigger than the other). they bond over having eye conditions

they also fell out of a tree in the middle of the woods one time and cracked their head open and broke their leg and had to limp home

the first ever scar he got was on his chin when he and his brother were pushing each other around (as brothers do) and julius fell and cut his chin open. its very faded now, but his brother brings it up somtimes

one time, out of boredome, he ran away from his brother at the store

his little sister would hide between clothes in the store and would need to be called for on the intercom

i have more. theyre my fav listener. all my hcs go to them.

[dewdropdinosaur]

Go Heavy on the Red

ALASTOR x (F) READER Summary: SOULMATE AU. To say that you never thought you were made for love would be an understatement. All your life, black was all you knew. Black ink and a faded tattoo. Till you died and met him Warnings: Mentions of death, drunk driving, dugs, alcohol, and sex. Rating: PG-13 For the lovely @anon-of-the-void Requests are OPEN

In the chaotic realm of Hell, where demons and lost souls roamed endlessly, there existed a peculiar demon named Alastor. With a penchant for mischief and a flair for the dramatic, he ruled over his domain with unmatched charisma and power. But beneath his imposing exterior lay a longing, a desire for something more profound than the endless cycle of torment and chaos that he so loved. 

All his life, Alastor’s wrist had been adorned with perfect neat red cursive spelling out the words ‘Going heavy on the red, huh?’. Whoever you were, your handwriting was pristine, perfect for someone like him. Yet, despite this, Alastor never truly believed that he would ever find the soulmate behind the words inked upon him. His tattoo was in red…his soulmate was alive or not yet born. A strange phenomenon for a soulmate not to be born within one’s time but then again Alastor was a strange phenomenon in and of himself. 

You were no different. To say that you never thought you were made for love would be an understatement. All your life, black was all you knew. Black ink and a faded tattoo. ‘New to the whole being dead thing my dear?’ Your soulmate was dead, you always wondered how. You were born with the ink so black and murky that it looked like a void space. The handwriting was a fine print, definitely from a time long past. It looked as though it was printed by an old typewriter or someone who had an orderly and steady hand. Crisp and clean. Maybe your soulmate was like that too?

But fate is an even crueler mistress, and despite laying on the load of soulmates from different eras - your mortal thread was also fragile. As the years passed, your time on Earth drew to a close and when you closed your eyes for the last time after being slammed into by a drunk driver - you awoke not to pearly white gates but deep dark brimstone ones. Your bearings were slim and despite trying to orient yourself to your new environment, nothing was working. 

Slowly working your way along the smoky streets, you peered upon an ad for a hotel - the Hazbin Hotel to be precise. The ad was clearly hand drawn with what seemed to be childish crayon but nonetheless the happy picture seemed to stand out amongst the dismal exterior. Following the directions, the streets you walked were perilous. Screaming, crying, the heavy smell of alcohol, sex, and sin filled your nose. Holding your stomach, you convinced yourself that expelling the contents of your stomach right before you approach a hotel didn’t seem like the best idea. You would at least wait to find a decent bathroom…if there was such a thing in this place. In fact, where were you anyway? 

Soon, you came to gaze upon an older structure with a giant vacancy sign. Entering the Hotel, you observed your surroundings. A…cat…stood at the bar with a…spider demon there too? A shorter hyperactive woman ran around with a knife…and were those walking eggs?! 

“OH MY GOSH!! Hello~! Welcome to the Hotel, my name is Charlie!” Without warning a younger woman with blonde hair and a red suit came up and shook your hand furiously. Dazed and confused, you shook back slowly. 

“Oh, hello.”

“So wonderful sinner, would you like a room?”

“Wait, um sinner? I..I am not a sinner.”

“But you are—oh. OH. I see. You’re new!”

“Umm..new to what exactly?”

“Oh, this…this is Hell. You…died?”

“Oh.”

Suddenly, it all made sense. You saw the headlights, he sped through the red light. Crash. Now..now you’re here. Not in your car where you were. But here. In Hell. Hell, the supposedly a fiery pit of destruction and seduction that held the most enigmatic and psychotic of characters.

“Well, let’s get you settled in! Come on, I want to introduce you to everyone!”

Grabbing your arm and dragging you around the Hotel, Charlie introduced you to everyone in an effort to get your bearings and settle down. Little did you know that from the shadows a figure lurked. Watching with glowing red eyes, Alastor peered and sized up this newcomer to the Hotel. Fresh meat was always a good idea and especially with all the changes going around, he felt a need to grasp onto some entertainment. Distract himself with unworthy souls who would fail here spectacularly. 

His soulmate tattoo had turned black this morning and his mind began to reel with all the possibilities. Would his soulmate be in Heaven or in Hell like himself? Would fate be too cruel again and separate them not only across time but planes of death? Throughout the day, his wrist started to burn with a fiery pain. They were close…and as this newcomer approached the Hotel, his interest peaked. Maybe they knew something, he would find out sooner or later.

“Alastor, where are you? We have a new guest for you to meet! Oh, he may be a bit creepy but just don’t try and focus on that.”

With a flicker of shadow, Alastor appeared in front of you in all his 1930s red pinstripe radio glory. His voice was static with radio waves, he extended his hand to you.

“Going heavy on the red, huh?”

Static crackle. His grip tightened around your own as he heard your words. With an evil crackle he spoke with a smirk.

“New to the whole being dead thing my dear” 

Alastor's grin widened as he reached out, grasping your hand and drawing closer to his wrist.

 "Look closely, my dear," He started tracing the intricate patterns etched into their skin. "Do you see it?"

Your eyes widened in awe as you beheld the tattoos adorning their wrists, glowing softly amidst the darkness of Hell. "It... it's...," you trailed off, breath catching in your throat.

"Our soulmate tattoos," Alastor finished, his voice softening with an unexpected tenderness. "Fate's cruel joke on us my dear has come to an end."

For a moment, you were speechless, heart pounding with a mixture of wonder and disbelief. "I... I never imagined..." you began, voice trailing off as you searched for the right words. 

But before you could speak further, Alastor locked his gaze with yours in an unspoken promise. Manipulation has its place and it was Alastor’s preferred tool. 

"In this realm of chaos and despair, we may have found each other against all odds," he murmured, his voice barely audible over the din of Hell. "But together, my dear Y/N, we shall defy fate itself."

And as they stood there, their souls intertwined in a bond that transcended the boundaries of Hell, you knew that they had found not only their salvation, but also your truest companion amidst the darkness. Alastor knew that he had found his only weakness, the tinge of his dark black heart beating once again. Feelings he knew were real despite his aversion to such moments. Maybe hiding and indulging in this one weakness wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

[hard--headed--woman]

I know I spent two days without posting any lesbian pride post lol but I swear I'm gonna post two posts per day in the following days to make up for it. I am again going to talk about an artist, but from a different period this time.

Rosa Bohneur !

(I love her name by the way... Bohneur means happiness in french and that's such a pretty name to have)

Marie-Rosalie Bonheur, known as Rosa Bonheur, was born in 1822 in Bordeaux and died in 1899 in Thomery. She was a French painter and sculptor specialising in representations of animals.

She has kind of an interesting family story (mother adopted by a rich guy who found out later who was her real father, siblings all artists, father who met a lot of interesting people, links with many famous people...) but it would be too long to talk about it and I want to focus on Rosa herself. Do check it up if you're interested!

During her youth, Rosa Bonheur had a reputation for being a tomboy, a reputation that followed her throughout her life and which she made no attempt to deny, wearing her hair short and later smoking cigarettes and cigars. Her emancipated lifestyle never caused a scandal, even though she lived in an era that was very concerned with convention. Like all women of her time, Rosa Bonheur had to apply to the Prefecture of Paris for a cross-dressing permit, renewable every six months, in order to wear trousers, in particular to attend livestock fairs, travel or ride horses.

Here's one of her permits, from 1857 :

And though many historians tried to deny the fact that she was a lesbian, she always refused to marry a man, has only ever had relationships with women and literally wrote that she never felt any sort of love, attraction or tenderness for men, "besides a frank and good friendship for those who had all my esteem". After the death of the woman she loved, she also wrote "If I'd been a man, I'd have married her, and they wouldn't have made up all those silly stories..." You got it : even if she didn't shout it from the rooftops, Rosa was very probaby a homosexual woman.

Rosa Bohneur grew up in a fairly wealthy family, thanks to the financial support of her mother's adoptive father. But when her mother's father died, the family was left without any such support, and fell into dire poverty. When Rosa was 11, her mother died, which deeply traumatised her. She kept a lifelong admiration for her mother.

In 1836, at the age of 14, she met Nathalie Micas, who became her lover. Only Nathalie's death 53 years later separated them.

Her father remarried in 1842 to Marguerite Peyrol, with whom he had a last son, Germain, who would also become a painter. Rosa Bonheur did not get on well with her stepmother and when her father died in 1849, she left the family home to live with the Micas.

After her mother's death, Rosa Bonheur went to primary schools, was apprenticed as a dressmaker and then went to boarding school. Eventually her father took her into his workshop, where her artistic talents were revealed. He was her one and only teacher. Gradually, she developed a passion for animal art, which became her speciality.

She exhibited for the first time, at the age of 19, at the Salon of 1841. She won a 3rd class medal at the Salon of 1845, and a 1st class medal (gold) at the Salon of 1848. This award enabled her, at the age of 26, to obtain a commission from the State to produce an agrarian painting (paid 3,000 francs). The painting resulting from this state commission, "Labourage nivernais" was supposed to go to the Musée des Beaux-Arts in Lyon. But it was so successful at the 1849 Salon that the Beaux-Arts department decided to keep it in Paris, at the Musée du Luxembourg. After Rosa Bonheur's death, the work went to the Louvre, before being transferred to the Musée d'Orsay in 1986.

When her father died in March 1849, Rosa Bonheur replaced him as director of the École impériale gratuite de dessin pour demoiselles (or École gratuite de dessin pour jeunes filles). She remained in this position until 1860: ‘Follow my advice and I'll turn you into Leonardo da Vinci in skirts’, she often told her pupils.

In 1860, she moved to a huge house in By, where she had a huge workshop built, and ample space for her animals. One of her relatives wrote: “She had a complete menagerie in her house: a lion and a lioness, a deer, a wild sheep, a gazelle, horses, etc. One of her pets was a young lion she let run around. My mind was freer when this leonine animal died".

In June 1864, Rosa was visited by Empress Eugenie, who invited her to lunch at the Château de Fontainebleau with her husband. The following year, Eugenie returned to see her, to present her with the Legion d'honneur herself. Rosa is the ninth woman and the first artist to receive this distinction. About this, The Empress said :

“At last, you've been knighted. I am delighted to be the godmother of the first woman artist to receive this high distinction. I wanted the last act of my regency to be devoted to showing that, in my eyes, genius has no sex."

She was also the first woman to be made an officer in this order, in April 1894 (first female officer of the Legion d'honneur).

Rosa traveled extensively with her lover Nathalie, herself a painter and mechanical enthusiast (she invented and patented a railway braking system), and painted many pictures inspired by her travels.

In 1889, Nathalie died after some 50 years together. It was then that Rosa expressed her regret at not having been able to marry her.

After Nathalie's death, Rosa met Anna Klumpe, a talented American painter. The two women moved in together some time later.

Rosa Bohneur died of pulmonary congestion in 1899, without having completed her last painting, “La foulaison du blé en Camargue”, a monumental canvas she had planned to exhibit at the 1900 Universal Exhibition.

She is buried in Père Lachaise cemetery, alongside Nathalie, her parents and Anna (who died years after her). She left her entire fortune to Anna, who, in 1908, published a biography of Rosa Bonheur and created a Rosa-Bonheur prize at the Société des artistes français. The Société des Artistes français posthumously awarded her the Medal of Honor shortly after her death.

Rosa could have had military honors at her funeral, but she specified in her will that she did not wish this.

There's a lot of interesting things to say about Rosa, her art and her history, so I suggest you do some research on her! She was a very talented and strong-willed woman who had a huge impact on French art and left a considerable cultural legacy.

Here are some of her paintings :

I personally love them ! I am not a painting expert, I just find them sooo pretty.

See you tomorrow :)

[uraichievents]

UraIchi Week 2024

Monday, July 1st, 2024 - Sunday, July 7th, 2024

AO3 Collection

Full Prompts List Submitted This Year

(Click images to enlarge. Alt text under the cut.)

What is UraIchi Week?

It’s a week-long fanworks event to promote the Urahara Kisuke x Kurosaki Ichigo ship. There’s no sign-up, it’s just for fun, and everybody can participate. Completed works and wips are both acceptable, and any type of fanwork (fanfic, fanart, gifsets, etc.) is welcome. NSFW and/or potentially trigger-y content is allowed, although please remember to tag your works properly.

The ship itself can be written romantically or platonically, as lovers or friends or even enemies, so long as it stars these two characters together in some way. Poly ships are also fine so long as Ichigo and Kisuke are still the focus of the fanwork. And crossovers and fusions are also allowed even if it isn’t one of the given prompts for the event. Basically, anything goes, and the only criteria is that it has to be UraIchi-centric.

Posting:

UraIchi Week is hosted here on Tumblr and on AO3. For posts on Tumblr, remember to ping @uraichievents and tag #UraIchi Week 2024. For AO3, you can add your work(s) to the collection linked up above. You are also welcome to join the UraIchi Discord server if you haven’t already and come and talk about what you’re working on!

Themes:

July 1st, Day 1: i've met you before / i'll meet you again / this is the first time we've met.. right?

Time Travel / Dimension Travel

Identity Porn / Hidden Identities

“I've suffered from traumatic dreams of my past lives since I was a child, and I'm just now realizing that coming up to a beautiful stranger who looks like someone I've seen die a thousand times in a thousand different ways at a bar and asking if we've met before sounds a lot like a come-on haha no wait come back that doesn't mean I'm not desperately attracted to you please kiss me again” AU

July 2nd, Day 2: It's fact that killable problems are not real problems.

Murder Husbands

Ichigo is Deadpool / unbreakable / any other accidentally immortal being who is really kind of annoyed about it (because it’s boring, and he’s still young enough to be within his lifespan, but it sure takes the fun out of fighting).

All the times Ichigo died, he ACTUALLY died, he just came back. Every time he comes back, he comes back Wronger.

July 3rd, Day 3: Things I Should've Told You / Things I Don't Tell Anyone Else

The skeletons in your closet are about to overflow. Would you like me to tidy it up?

Ichigo is experimenting with self-expression, a hobby, etc., making up for lost time as a regular teenager. Urahara is always the first one (sometimes only one) to see or hear about a new idea.

“The person I trust most is you.”

July 4th, Day 4: Sword and Shield

I am yours to command, use me as you please.

Shiba!Ichigo and Second Division!Kisuke

Summoner/Mage AU: Paired summons who are good apart but unmatched together.

July 5th, Day 5: That One is Mine

Hollow Instincts / Feral Protective

Possessive!Kisuke: He stepped aside for Sui-Feng because Yoruichi was always master first and friend second and love interest never, and because Yoruichi wanted her in a way she's never wanted him. But Ichigo is different, and everyone soon realizes that when Kisuke truly wants something, he always gets it in the end.

“Death can’t have you. You’re mine.”

July 6th, Day 6: Monsters come in all shapes and sizes. Some are born, some are made, and some decide being a monster's pretty fucking cool.

Visored!Urahara Kisuke AU / Vasto Lorde!Kurosaki Ichigo AU

“Ichigo forges a friendship with his Hollow in the Shattered Shaft” AU

vs. Gotei 13 AU: Ichigo time travels back from a future where he was chained to the throne as the next Soul King by the Shinigami.

July 7th, Day 7: Creator’s Choice!

As always, the above prompts are all optional, and you’re free to come with your own ideas. You can also find an excel sheet with all the prompts submitted this year linked up above, so feel free to look through that if you want, and you can also make a copy for yourself.

And that’s it! We’re looking forward to what everyone comes up with!

[makeitmingi]

The Cat and Dog Game [Chapter 33]

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy

Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho

Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?

Word count: 3.3K

"Yunho..." You raised your head from your pillow, slight hesitation and worry in your voice.

"Hmm?" He hummed, eyes focused on the game that he was playing on his phone. You and him were slowly growing accustomed to staying at each other's places. And tonight, Yunho was staying over at your place.

"Would you like to visit my mom?" You asked.

That's how you ended up in your position now. Yunho drove, worried that you were too distracted to drive. He was right, you couldn't focus on a single thought for more than 5 seconds.

"Thanks again for coming." You blurted out, hands dripping the material of the pants you were wearing.

"(y/n), there's no need to thank me. I should be thanking you for introducing me to her." He said, reaching over to place his hand on yours.

"I'm a littler nervous. Going there always sends me spiralling." You confessed. But it also acted as a warning to Yunho of the state that you will be in when you reach.

"It's okay, I'll be with you all the way, alright?" He squeezed your hand.

"You can tell me anything, I'll always listen." He added. You nodded with a hum, turning to look out the window but you never let go of Yunho's hand. Although the memories of your mother are fond, they always scared you. So Seonghwa made you promise that you'll never come here alone.

"When I think about my mother... She's an amazing person. Seeing her regress to the state she was in before she died... It still haunts me." You told him.

"I understand that, considering how close you were with her..." Yunho empatised.

"And on top of that, my father was detaching himself. I could tell, when she got sick, he just wasn't there." You sighed.

"He left your mom alone?" Yunho asked in disbelief.

"Yes and no. He was there but he didn't visit her room, buried himself in work... almost as if she was already gone from our lives. And right after she died, he got together with my stepmother." You sighed.

"It's like he didn't even care to mourn for her. I became invisible to him, just forgotten. The father that I knew and counted on growing up was gone. And I know a part of me still cannot reconcile with that." You said.

"I can't imagine you having to go through that all on your own, especially at that age." Yunho replied with a small shake of his head, he really didn't like your father.

"You know, I always wondered how different things would have been if my mother was still around." You chuckled bitterly.

"Or is this just his true colours?" You thought out loud.

Yunho didn't reply to that. He has never met your father and mother But he knew he hated your father and was angry with him for treating you that way when you were little and just lost your mother.

"That's the only good part. Your mother isn't around to see how your dad truly is." Yunho said. You hummed in agreement.

"For a long time, I thought maybe that's just his way of mourning. Maybe he just blames me for making my mother sick. He always said she started getting weaker after she gave birth to me. That's why I don't have a sibling. It made me believe my mother would still be alive if I wasn't born." You said.

"That's not true. It's not your fault and your dad shouldn't blame it on you, you're his kid." Yunho frowned.

"It didn't help my case that my stepmother and I hated each other from the start. He hated that I 'embarrassed him'." You scoffed.

"Was she mean to you as a kid?" Yunho probed a little more. He was glad that you found this opportunity to share more with him so he could learn more about you.

"She saw me as a threat so she tried to erase me from my father's life. Little did she know, my father already didn't care for me at that point. But she knows she'll never be my mother." You said.

"What about your stepbrother?" He asked.

"Oh, just as bad as her. But he was the perfect child, wanting to be a doctor, so of course my dad was fine with paying for everything."

"My mother was a respected woman. Everyone loved her, no one can come close to her. She was philantropic, humble and confident. Everyone knows my stepmother is only in it for the name and the money. She'll never replace my mother. Even Seonghwa's parents hate my father and stepmother now." You shrugged.

"What parent would just ignore their child like that...How could he just leave you to be on your own after your mother died." Yunho shook his head.

"It was hard and I barely survived it but that's a discussion for another time." You forced a smile, patting the back of his hand.

"Thank you for telling me all that."

"Nothing to thank me for. I never want it to happen but if you meet my father and stepmother some day, I just want you to be prepared for how they will be." You said.

"I hope I never run into them." Yunho clicked his tongue. You assumed it was because Yunho was afraid of your dad. But no, Yunho just knew he would not be able to fight to urge to punch your dad.

"Is this this place?" Yunho stopped the car and leaned forward to see the sign overhead.

"Yeah, you can go straight ahead and park there." You pointed. Yunho nodded and continued driving until you told him to stop and park the car. When you both stepped out, Yunho went to grab the offerings from the boot.

"Are you cold?" Yunho asked, seeing you wrap your arms around yourself as you waited. You shook your head with a small smile.

"I just... hate it here." You looked away. It was hard explaining all the emotions you felt when you came here. Yunho came forward, holding your hand to walk with you.

"It's okay." He kissed the back of your hand. Although Yunho walked in front, you guided him to where your mother was.

"There she is." You nodded to the headstone that was by the big plum blossom tree.

"Hi... mom..." It felt like there was a rock in your throat you just couldn't swallow. Yunho saw your apprehension but didn't point it out or rush you.

"I'll set up." He said softly, opening the picnic mat. He placed down the flowers, fruit, Korean rice cakes and alcohol. Thankfully, he called his mother to ask for help the night before. You watched, rooted to your spot as Yunho picked off the weeds and used a clean, damp cloth to wipe the headstone.

"Done." Yunho informed, carefully folding the cloth and setting it aside. He didn't greet your mother yet, wanting to let you go first. You gulped nervously, kneeling down on shaky hands.

"H-Hi, mom... I-It's been a while... I'm s-sorry about that." You stuttered as your brain refused to form coherant sentences.

"You go. I don't know what else to say." You said with a clenched jaw. Yunho nodded, patting your head.

"Nice to meet you, omonim. My name is Jeong Yunho, I am (y/n)'s boyfriend. (y/n) has told me a lot about you and she continues to do so." Yunho smiled, bowing deeply.

"I own the restaurant that she's currently working at. She's amazing, her and the whole crew. They saved my business." He continued.

"Thank you for leading her to me." He smiled.

You looked on at how Yunho spoke to your mum, tears slipping down your cheeks. Hearing his words, maybe he was right. Your mother led you to Yunho, knowing what a patient, kind and amazing person he would be in your life.

"He's a big eater, mom, just like Hwa is. You would have loved feeding him." You whispered. To which, Yunho grinned proudly, nodding in confirmation.

"I promise to take care of (y/n)." Yunho quickly added.

"You already take such good care of me, Yunho." You said. He turned to you, wiping your cheeks with his thumbs.

"I know that. And I'll continue to do it. I just have to reassure your mom that her daughter is in good hands, don't I?" He chuckled with a charming smile, reaching over to pinch your cheek.

"I don't really know what you like to eat but I hope fruits, sweet rice cake and the soju is okay. I'll bring more next time." Yunho said.

"She's not a picky eater. She'll be grateful no matter what." You informed with a soft smile. It made your heart swell when Yunho said 'next time'.

"Here, sit." Yunho brushed the mat for you to sit. You hesitated before taking a seat beside him with your mother's headstone opposite. It was a new feeling, you never wanted to stay here for too long. Seonghwa always had to convince you to stay a little longer before you ultimately rushed out of there.

"Can you believe how long it has been since you left, mom? I'm still not over it..." You sighed. Yunho reached over to hold your hand, rubbing the back with his thumb to comfort you.

"When you left, dad left too. Things have never been the same, our family is gone." Your tears fell into your lap.

"But it's okay, I'm okay. I have a new family of my own, a better one." You looked up at Yunho with a sad smile. He smiled back at you.

Yunho wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to his body and kissing the crown of your head. You wiped your tears with your sleeves.

Then it all happened, the same thing that always happened when you came, the flashbacks of memories of your mother. The happy ones and then the sour ones leading up to her death and after.

"Let's go." Pulling away from Yunho, you stood up and brushed your pants. Yunho looked at you in shock and confusion.

"Are you sure? There's no rush and-"

"Yunho, now. Please." You begged. Seeing your pleading eyes, Yunho nodded and stood up as well.

"Why don't you head to the car first? Start up the engine. I'll pack up and be with you." Yunho suggested kindly. You didn't need to be told twice. Taking the keys from him, you trudged down the small path and headed to the car.

"Forgive her, omonim. It's still hard on her..." Yunho bowed politely as he began to pack up. He pour the soju over the grass patch and put the fruit away then folded the blanket.

"Watch over her and protect her, please. She doesn't deserve all this. I'm sure you know that..." He sighed as he patted the headstone.

"We'll be back soon." He gave a final bow before leaving. You were already settled in the passenger seat.

"Hey." Yunho put the things in the boot and came to the driver's seat. Usually, he holds your hand but this time, you were so quick to grasp his hand, as if you would go crazy if you didn't.

"Hey, hey. It's okay..." His other hand came over to cup your cheek.

"Let's go home, hmm?" He smiled softly and you nodded. Yunho drove to your home, sensing that you would prefer the familiarity.

When Yunho arrived, you both went upstairs. Yunho placed the bag of fruits down on the counter and you immediately glued yourself to him, hugging his waist tightly and burying your face against his chest. Yunho hushed you, one hand on the back of your head and one on your back to hold you.

"It's okay, it's okay." He whispered as he felt your tears soak the front of his shirt. Yunho let you hold onto him for as long as you needed, he wasn't going to be the first to let you go.

"Sorry, let me shower." You mumbled.

"Don't be sorry." He patted your head. You shuffled to your bathroom to shower while he quickly showered in the other bathroom.

"Yunho, I'm sorry. I... I..." You struggled to find the words as you both sat on the bed after your showers. Yunho offered to help you dry your hair so you could sleep.

"Love, I told you, there's nothing to be sorry about." He told you, daringly trying the new affectionate nickname.

"I just have this whirlwind of emotions when it comes to her." While you didn't address it, you didn't react negatively so Yunho took that as a win.

"I understand, it's normal." Yunho said. When he was done, you combed your hair while he put the hair dryer back. He got under the covers and you scooted close to him so he could wrap his long arms around you securely. You felt safe with him.

"Yun, thank you." You murmured.

"You're very welcome." He smiled, brushing your hair away from your face, staring into your eyes.

Holding his bicep, you lifted yourself slightly to be on his eye level and pressed your lips to his. Yunho's eyes widened but kissed back, pulling your body closer to his. You pulled away first to breathe.

"Are you okay?" You chuckled, hand resting on his warm cheek. He grinned and pounced over, showering you in kisses.

"Argh! Yunho!" You yelled out as he placed multiple kisses all over your face like an excited puppy.

"That was amazing." Yunho grinned happily. You rolled your eyes jokingly, putting your face against his chest so he wouldn't see you all shy and embarrased.

"Go to sleep." You slapped his chest.

"I expect a wake up kiss later." He declared before returning to the original position as before. You let out an audible sigh then closed your eyes to sleep. Yunho let out a soft laugh, seeing you fall asleep to quickly. He was just teasing you but was glad that you took the first step and you shared your first kiss as a couple.

"Goodnight, my love." He rested his cheek against your head and joined you in dreamland.

"Oh, Seonghwa hyung." Yunho greeted, quickly adjusting his post-sleep hair when he saw that your best friend had arrived. He closed your bedroom door, not wanting to disturb you.

"Hey, thanks for contacting me." Seonghwa greeted Yunho with a brief hug.

"She's sleeping but I thought she might need you more than she needs me... to comfort her." Yunho rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yunho, you know that's not true. She needs you too, you've become such a big part of her life now, provided her protection and comfort." Seonghwa smiled softly.

"I'm guessing you both haven't eaten." Seonghwa raised an eyebrow. Yunho nodded his head shyly.

"It's early for dinner but considering it's your first meal of the day, I'll get started on cooking." Seonghwa informed. Before going to the kitchen to cook, Seonghwa went into the room just to be with you for a bit and see how you were.

"Let me help, hyung. I want to cook for her." Yunho said, standing in the kitchen, when Seonghwa came back out. Seonghwa chuckled as he nodded.

"I'll learn from you. I can't cook a full meal by myself but I can help." He said with determination.

"Sure, ask questions if you have any." The older began to look through your fridge, reading the labels on all the stuff.

"Put these on the counter for me?" Seonghwa requested. Yunho took the vegetables and deli containers, putting them on the kitchen island to be used later.

"Do you know what you're gonna cook right away?" Yunho asked.

"No. So I took out stock because you can always use stock in cooking. Then these vegetables look like they're going to spoil so I took them out too." Seonghwa explained, finding a knife.

"(y/n) removed you from knife duty, right? I don't want to face her wrath for disobeying her." Seonghwa teased.

"Ah, hyung~ Come on. I'm sure all of you got hurt in the kitchen before too! It was just a little cut but she doesn't let me near the knives anymore. I don't want to go back to weighing ingredients. That's so boring." Yunho whined. Seonghwa laughed and let Yunho use one of the spare chef knives.

"So we'll use the stock and braise the leeks. That's easily done in the stove then thrown into the oven. There's also some beef, we can do rice bowls." Seonghwa said.

"Okay, I'll follow your lead." Yunho began.

"Oh, let's make a quick pickle. Green papaya, radish and carrot. You can use this slicer. Use the guard though." He instructed.

"Alright, so to draw the water out, we put salt and let it sit for a bit. It's thinly sliced to it should be quite quick. In the meantime, we have prepare the pickling liquid." Seonghwa taught Yunho.

The two of them prepared the meal together, Yunho learning and remembering the little tips Seonghwa taught him.

"Yunho?" You woke up and found the bed empty. Groaning, you reached over to turn on the bedside lamp. After checking the time, you got out of bed and went to wash your face. You assumed Yunho had gone home.

"So you want to baste the steak to add flavour, grab the handle and tilt the pan like this." You peeked over to see Seonghwa teaching Yunho how to cook.

"What's going on here?" You blinked. The two men stopped and looked over at you.

"You're awake." Yunho bound over to you, putting his arms around you to wrap you in a big bear hug.

"Hey, Hwa." After hugging Yunho, you went to hug Seonghwa. He wrapped an arm around your waist while you took a a few seconds to rest your forehead on his shoulder.

"You okay, sweetheart?" He whispered. You didn't say anything, your silence was a sufficient response. He patted your back.

"Aren't you supposed to be off knife duty?" You raised an eyebrow, turning to Yunho.

"Aww, (y/n). Come on~ I was careful. Look, no cuts." Yunho wriggled his fingers to show you. You gave him a skeptical look and went to the fridge to pour yourself some cold coffee, wanting the taste and aroma to really help wake you up. Yunho reached over to steal a sip from you.

For the first time, you didn't cook, on insistence by Yunho and Seonghwa that they'll handle it. They only allowed you to sit by the counter to watch them.

"Shall I make you a bowl?" Seonghwa offered.

"Can you let me slice the steaks, at least?" You asked back. Seonghwa gave you a flat look but gave in easily.

"Alright, let me assemble my bowl." You laid the slices of steak over your rice, making a well in the middle to put a raw egg yolk and sauce. Yunho placed the pickles they made onto a sharing dish.

"Perilla leaf kimchi?" Seonghwa asked. You nodded and he went to put a plate of kimchi there.

"Thank you for cooking, you two." You said before digging into the food with them.

"This is so good! Seonghwa hyung is a great teacher." Yunho said between his chews, clearly impressed that he helped put together such a delicious dish.

"And I'm just chopped liver... Maybe next time, you should cook with Seonghwa and help him with his prep, since he's such an amazing teacher, you know?" You scoffed, feigning offense. Yunho's face fell as he tried to defend himself.

"You know that's not what I mean!"

~

Series masterlist

[rifari2037]

Are , There  parallels and symbolism between Zuko and Katara in the cave of Two lovers and the  disguises,s they have as the blue spirit and  the painted lady .

I'm sorry for my late response. Cave of two lovers and Blue Spirit/Painted Lady were parallels with Zutara in different way. Here the analysis.

Omashu/Zutara

In The Cave of Two Lovers, Zutara were parallels with Omashu that shows Zuko was reincarnation of Oma, while Katara was reincarnation of Shu.

The main story

The main story of Omashu was two lovers who being apart because their villages in a war. The couldn't be together because of the circumstances, not because of their own decision.

The Fire Nation and Water Tribe in a war for a hundred years. Long before Zuko and Katara were born. The war of their people forced them to hate each other, it was never their own decision.

Omashu met on the top of the mountain that divides the two villages, in a neutral place where there was no war.

Zuko and Katara met in crystal catacomb that looks like the Cave of Two Lovers, in Ba Sing Se with motto 'no war in Ba Sing Se'. Zuko and Katara build a connection and trust each other despite they were enemies.

Shu died in the war, leaving devastated Oma who unleashed a terrible display of earthbending power.

Zuko as the reincarnation of Oma protected Katara as the reincarnation of Shu with all his strength and didn't let her die in battle (again).

Oma declared the war over, she built a new city with both villages and lived together in peace.

Zuko as the new Fire Lord declared the war over. Fire Lord Zuko and the avatar started a new era with love and peace, also building a new city called Republic City.

Katara didn't have a role in new city, she didn't have statue, she didn't even attend the bloodbending trial. She didn't literally die like Shu, but her absence represented that.

2. The symbolism

I just realised, when Oma was waiting for Shu who never came, the clouds behind her formed like the shape of a crescent moon even though it wasn't perfect form.

Moon was symbol and source power of waterbender.

Oma unleashed a terrible display of earthbending power, the background was red colour and red sun.

Sun is symbol and source power of firebender. Meanwhile in final battle, Sozin comet was the source power of firebender that turned the sky red.

When Oma declared the war over, the background was the sun. There were also people of two villages in front of her.

The sun in the background showed more that Zuko was reincarnation of Oma, because the sun is a symbol and the power source of firebender.

When Fire Lord Zuko declared the war over, there were people representing all places (fire nation people, water tribe, earth kingdom people, and foggy swamp tribe) in front of him.

Even though Oma and Shu were first earthbenders, but they wore red and blue instead of green or brown. Oma/Zuko wore red, then wore green in neutral place. Shu/Katara wore blue.

Oma/Zuko and Shu/Katara also consistently have the same position. Oma always on the left, while Shu always on the right. In every Zutara relationship development moments, Zuko always on the left while Katara always on the right.

The Blue Spirit and The Painted Lady

Blue Spirit was Zuko's alter ego, while Painted Lady was Katara's alter ego. In their disguise, they switch their roots.

Zuko, the firebender, first appeared as Blue Spirit in Book : WATER. He wore a blue mask, colour that was a symbol of water.

Blue spirit was an evil water spirit.

Katara, the waterbender, appeared as Painted Lady in Book : FIRE. She used red paint, colour that was a symbol of fire.

Painted Lady was a good Fire Nation spirit.

Also, they appear in chapters with the titles The Blue Spirit and The Painted Lady, the names of their alter egos.

The avatar is a bridge between the spirit world and the physical world. In parallel, Aang was the first person who discovering the identities of the Blue Spirit and Painted Lady.

Unlike Omashu/Zutara, The Blue Spirit and The Painted Lady weren't about romance, but the parallels could be the basis of their chemistry.

[crguang]

a lover’s goodbye kiss

Are we ever truly done with grief?

angst, gn!reader, ptsd. 6k words of mourning and bitter reunions

A/N: this really got away from me, i also cried while writing it so do with that what you will. not entirely satisfied with it, but it’s okay. hope someone enjoys it regardless

Grief is a part of you. It seeps into your pores, settles in your bloodstream like cancerous chemicals and forces you to live with it, to endure the brunt of it lest memories pull you under permanently. For long-life species, grief is ironically common. The belief that Xianzhou natives are unaccustomed to death is a false one; though it is slow to come, it envelops them regardless, often twice over. The Mara curse is first. Its inevitability leaves an imprint in people’s hearts, a sort of impression they are born with and cannot outgrow. To be a long-life species is to become Mara-struck, a shell of your former self driven by bloodlust and fragmented memories. That, in itself, is death. Your body is no longer your own and neither is your mind, you are a senseless abomination destined to roam the world until someone or something delivers the fatal, long-awaited blow needed to end your misery. Though this heavy subject is not often discussed among the people, accepting that fate is done with bloodied teeth and scorched fingertips, a personal battle with grief from which you come out only somewhat victorious. Knowing that you’ll eventually be stricken by Mara is one thing, accepting that your loved ones will walk the same path is another entirely. No one talks about the worst part. Nobody tells you what you’re supposed to do when the memories fade away, replaced by the acrid smell of sulfur and a chill in your bones that you can never shake.

Hundreds of years of memories— content smiles, sun rays onto sweaty skin, cold hands in pale locks of hair, unspoken devotion— are hidden behind mist requiring immense focus to see through. You are not Mara-struck yet. Your mind is still your own, as much as it can be, and you are still alive. You ask yourself why often. Why it was her, first, and not you. Why you’re stuck living with holes inside of you when maybe you should’ve died along with the hundred Cloud Knights that had the misfortune of crossing her path that night. Loss has made you ashamed, you can’t even speak her name. It’d been erased from history and forbidden after that night, out of social disappointment and shame, but that is not why you can’t bear to utter it. It’s unfair that this is what you remember most of her; the collapsed buildings, the unbearable smell, the frozen corpses… Her beloved blade through your stomach. The way her gaze softened after a few glasses of wine has been replaced by the flash of crimson you caught a glimpse of before her sword buried itself in your guts. You vaguely recall how endearingly tight her muscles always were, how you or Baiheng had to smooth the knots out of her body once in a while. The news of her breaking out of the Shackling Prison, however, along with the screams that followed form a clear image in your treacherous mind. What use are memories if they are so fickle, so easily supplanted by horrors that quicken your heartbeat on thought alone?

If anything, you do not shoulder this immense grief alone. Jing Yuan was a scrawny, eager boy when you first met him, almost half your height and always trailing behind her like the dutiful apprentice he was. His enthusiasm lit up the training yard and his youthful determination quickly earned him a place amongst your most cherished. He would seek you out after hours of conditioning, sweat still clinging to his bushy brows, and request a friendly spar to show you what he’s learned, how fast he was getting, how swift he could slash his sword. Your position as a Lieutenant of the Cloud Knights made him look at you with naked admiration, he’d hang onto your every word with a seriousness unfit of his age and at times offered insight only a boy who had never known war could come up with. You think you remember a figure in the shade of a growing tree standing several feet away from where you and Jing Yuan sparred. Quiet as a golden eagle, diligent gaze making note of every sloppy thrust and slow retreat she would reproach her retainer afterwards, his master only revealed herself when the tip of your blade against his neck announced his defeat.

Jing Yuan was the one to rescue you on the ice. His quick intervention allowed for healers from the Alchemy Commission to reach you in time and tend to your injuries. He was also the one to end her. It had to be him, you know, but you regret your own weakness, your faltering steps and half-hearted parries— it’s a burden you wish he never carried. He bears it with a solemn glint in his eyes and an impeccable posture but he’s not General of the Xianzhou Luofu to you, and so he lets you keep him close whenever he visits your empty home. His appreciation for the comfort goes unsaid, though his shoulders stand inches lower once he sets out the door. After all, he lost her too.

You get déjà vu when Jing Yuan walks across the training yard with a skinny blonde boy in tow and introduces him as his retainer, Yanqing. His apprentice is just as eager and energetic as he was, and it’s easy to fall back into old habits when the boy eventually nags you into sparring with him. He’s talented, determined to achieve his goals, but a little too proud and overconfident. His arrogance reminds you of an old friend who once forged the sword you still wield like an extension of your arm. It’s somewhat endearing, and not entirely unearned. A part of you vaguely recalls the annoyed purse of the Sword Champion’s lips whenever your mutual friend would go on another spiel about mastering the way of the sword. Your fingertips trace the sheath of your blade at the thought.

The Stellaron crisis plunges the Luofu into disarray. It brings destruction and death to the Xianzhou on a scale that reminds you of her, of the illuminated moon in the night sky and the blood on your hands. You can’t allow the memories to paralyze you like they often do, however, so you work with Jing Yuan and the Master Diviner in order to eliminate the internal threat that pose the Disciples of Sanctus Medicus. The Mara-struck fall twice under your steel and the rest of the Abundance’s abominations quickly become light work for someone as experienced as you are. Since the Ambrosial Arbor crisis, they’ve been gathering in Stargazer Navalia the most, forcing an evacuation of all civilians to safer areas of the Luofu.

Though he has plenty of work on his hands, this is where Yanqing likes to disappear for an hour each day— additional training, he says. You trust his abilities, but today he is needed at the Alchemy Commission and is currently unreachable. No one has seen him for a while. You have an idea of his whereabouts, so you offer to look for him and relay the General’s message.

Two Cloud Knights stand guard as you enter Stargazer Navalia. Their posture straightens when they see you and they nod once in greeting.

“Has anyone seen Lieutenant Yanqing come through here, by any chance?”

One of them replies, “He was there an hour ago on an official investigation. Passed through here and went further into the docks.”

You don’t know about any official investigations but you offer a thankful nod anyway before walking past the Knights. The large shipping containers and crates create paths that workers use during the day but you figure it’d be easier to look for Yanqing if you had a better view of the area. You jump on top of a container and carefully skim the place ahead. As expected, abominations and Mara-struck lay on the floor, strewn about like discarded clothing. You follow their trail further inside Stargazer Navalia, between growing starskiffs and through already opened doors. It takes a little over ten minutes to catch up with the freshly cut-down enemies laying about as you hop from container to container. Shards of rock hard ice glimmer in the sun near the bodies, no doubt Yanqing’s doing. Honestly, that boy…

You can see his blonde hair when you advance a little further. He’s turning a corner, so you take a shortcut running above a long, empty container and land on the one behind him with a thud. The sudden noise alerts him and he swirls around with a hand on his sword, ready to attack, but you’re not looking at him. The ghost of a woman long gone stands beside him, her back to you, with a stillness that indicates she’s been aware of you before you made your presence known. The sight of her pale locks burns into your brain. The intricate design of the familiar attire she dons chokes you like firm hands around your throat, and you falter. The blues and whites and reds mix together as you blink to regain your footing.

“Lieutenant!” Yanqing straightens up, sheathing his blade. “What are you doing here?”

You taste ash on the roof of your mouth. Your fingers curl around the handle of your sword. Falling buildings, frozen corpses, sulfur burning your nostrils. Her blade through your stomach. (Hesitant fingertips against your cheeks, implied confessions, oiled palms on tense muscles.) A feeling that has been dormant for centuries stirs in your guts, snakes around your intestines and tightens your stomach. It travels through your ribcage and up your bobbing throat, forcing you to swallow it back down. There’s the slow ascent of the moon behind your eyelids with each blink and the stutter of your chest with each breath— a chill spreads over your limbs and they tense as if frozen in place. It paralyzes you; you feel mocked by the way your feet are glued to the metal under them. You are reminded of your previous weakness, of your blood on the ice and its frigidity seeping into your skin. You grit your teeth.

“Jingliu…” Her name is forced past your lips, evicted after uncomfortably sitting on your tongue for hundreds of years.

She does not move, except for the flicker of recognition that goes through her fingertips. A mirage, she has to be— a nasty trick of your fractured mind because she cannot be here, breathing, when Jing Yuan assured you of her demise.

“Huh? You know her?” Yanqing asks, oblivious to your struggle as he glances back to the woman next to him. His query confirms that she is flesh and blood but leaves no hint as to her state of mind. If she is the same as she was centuries ago, then he and the Luofu are in great danger.

“…Yanqing. The General is looking for you. Alchemy Commission.”

The boy frowns. “Did something happen? There’s something I have to finish up before—“

“Yanqing.”

He stops in his tracks with furrowed brows, displeased at having been interrupted. You finally tear your gaze away from Jingliu’s tense posture to look at him. He sees your hardened eyes and hesitates, turning towards his new acquaintance for a few seconds before clenching his jaw and nodding once. You outrank him, and though it often pains him to do so, Yanqing knows to respect the Cloud Knights hierarchy. He walks away without a word and disappears between the various shipping containers.

You stand above her, a hand on your blade, and breathe in the smell of the docks to loosen the pressure in your guts. It’s the middle of the day, the weather is warm, your skin is uncut. Blurry images of grasping hands sinking into bed sheets and locking lips fill your mind until you can’t see anything but the way her asymmetric bangs frame her face as she hovers over you, breathless. The crimson of her irises are dulled to a lustful cherry and she looks at you like she doesn’t believe you’re real. A fragment of her one-track mind and hateful heart made tangible for one night, to appease the disgusting yearning for closeness that lingers in her bones. She is not a weapon used against the Abundance and you are more than the fellow Cloud Knight that joined the ranks before she was thrusted into them. As her knuckle trails down your cheekbone to the corner of your parted lips, you are a new constant in her future, an immovable force that she cannot plan around, and she is just a woman. Not a survivor, not a fighter, she is a woman who longs for another’s recognition and gentle hands. And as she leans down to graze her bottom lip against your top one, you feel the searing pain of her blade piercing your flesh.

Blood trickles on your tongue and you realize it is from how hard you are biting the inside of your cheek. The visions are gone, replaced by Jingliu turning around to face you, her free hands limp at her sides. Her chin tilts slightly upward. She’s wearing a dark blindfold over her eyes— some part of you is grateful to be hidden from her sight— but you know it wouldn’t alter any of her abilities.

“Lieutenant…” She only says a word, trails off as if it leaves a strange sensation in her mouth. It’s not a question or a tentative statement; she utters your title with an infuriating fondness, like you’re an old friend she hasn’t seen in a while. It makes you sick.

“…You are not dead,” you state blankly.

Jingliu takes a short breath. “Not yet, no.”

There’s a sluggishness to her words and a rasp more prominent than you recall it to be. Her voice is raw and breathy like every sentence comes at a price, and you are reminded of the curse that plagues her. You don’t understand how she’s standing here, seemingly sane, when the Mara had overcome her the last time you laid eyes on her. Still, the hand on your sword tightens its hold. There’s a thousand things you want to ask, a thousand more you wish to convey through touch alone, but you cannot trust her.

You wonder if she remembers almost ending your life. You wonder if she is haunted by regret and grief the same way you are. You wonder if some part of her still clings to that stricken body.

“You can let go of your sword,” Jingliu says, “I mean the Luofu no harm.”

“And me?”

“...You?”

You swallow a lump in your throat. Your toes tingle with sudden restlessness and it thaws the rest of your limbs, allowing you to take a measured step forward. “And me, Jingliu? Will you draw your blade against me once more?”

She is silent for some time, tense, and her fingers slightly curl inward in a momentary loss of composure. You can’t tell if it’s because she doesn’t recall ever doing that or because she does and the thought brings her pain. Finally, she shakes her head.

“You are not my enemy.”

“I wasn’t your enemy back then, was I?”

“…Your trust in me is inconsequential. I came to the Luofu to atone for my sins and surrender myself to the Alliance.”

Your jaw clenches. Past the initial confusion, you feel cheated. Angry. Hundreds of years of broken memories, lasting grief and paralyzing terror have eroded you, flayed you until you are nothing but bones and ligaments. You are walking the earth as less than half a person for no other reason than this is the destiny of all long-life species. Your closest friends have either fallen or withered around you, and that loneliness has debilitated you. How utterly unfair. You have dedicated most of your life to the Xianzhou Alliance and its people, you have been selfless, understanding, devoted, and you are rewarded with injustice. The person who you once called your strength has become the main character in your nightmares, and here she stands, ready to give up the pieces that are left of her to the same people who have ostracized her out of shame for centuries. For all the unbearable pain she caused you, she came back for them. You are the one she has a history with, you are the one whose life is intricately woven with hers. You are who she should be seeking atonement from, not the Ten-Lords Commission and the Arbiter Generals.

You don’t notice how pale your knuckles are from the grip on your weapon or the heaviness of your chest quickening your breath. You stare her down with gritted teeth and Jingliu doesn’t shy away from the growing fury in your gaze.

“Inconsequential,” you repeat in disbelief, your voice a little louder. “Inconsequential, me!”

“This is what I have to do. It is bigger than you, bigger than me.”

You jump down the container to land in front of her. She simply adjusts the inclination of her head.

“Do you remember, Jingliu? What you did to me?”

Her lips form a thin line. Her lack of response angers you further. You unsheath your sword and point the tip to her own weapon resting against her hip, then to her chest.

“Draw it.”

Jingliu makes no move to obey. “I will only unsheath my blade against my enemies, and you are not one of them.”

“You are cursed to forget, but I cannot. It is in every blink, in every pause; the destruction you caused, my—” you swallow, features twisting in a pained grimace, “my blood on your sword.”

Jingliu doesn’t reply, though her fingers twitch with restraint. Her chest rises and falls a beat faster, the only indication that your words are getting to her. You know this is unfair, that you’re only contributing to the injustice you have to face as a long-life species, but anger clouds your judgment and incites this hostile behavior.

“Draw it!” You exclaim in frustration. “Unsheath your blade and face me!”

You lunge forward in an instant, your weapon raised in a practiced arc towards her neck, forcing her to move out of the way. Her body instinctively bends into a defensive stance, but she makes no move to use her sword. You repeat the motion, over and over, and Jingliu evades each strike with an expertise only she possesses. She still refuses to fight you, to revert to the mindless abomination she was that night. You force her into a corner and as your blade descends at an angle to make contact with her bare shoulder, she leaps high over your head and lands gracefully behind you.

“Must we do this?” She sounds mentally exhausted, each word is spoken through pursed lips and a quiver goes through her sword-wielding hand.

You swirl around, molars grinding in anger. “Yes! You have haunted every part of me and replaced every cherished memory in my mind! You are what I see when I lay down at night, standing over me as I choke on my own blood!”

Jingliu brings a clawed hand to her temple and utters, “Enough…”

“You are the face of my nightmares, Jingliu.” Your voice cracks halfway through the sentence. “It ends today.”

When your weapon comes down to strike her this time, its steel meets Jingliu’s specially crafted blade. She uses the momentum of her parry and pushes you back with so much force it sends you flying, your back colliding into the side of a shipping container. You rise to your feet with a shaky breath.

The clash of swords rings in the air as you move between incubating starskiffs and metal crates in an emotional dance. Street lamps fall, stationed starskiffs are cut in two, jade wheels are damaged and incubators break. Jets of their liquid explode everywhere Jingliu returns your strikes with stronger ones, and soon you’re crashing into yet another door. Blood trickles down your nose. There’s a nasty cut on your hip that will require medical attention. You stand, unwavering, and pounce towards the other woman once more. Jingliu grits her teeth as her parry brings your face close to hers. The distinct melody of her blade in movement fills her ears and the ground shakes under her feet. All around you structures are falling, narrowly missing you.

Your muscles strain with exertion but with the feeling comes a strange sort of relief that only intensifies when Jingliu has you pinned to the pavement, swords previously discarded some feet away with an experienced flick of her hand. You’re both breathless for a long moment and for the first time since her reappearance in your life, you don’t taste smoke in the back of your throat.

The pink of her parted lips is the same shade it was almost a millennia ago. The world blurs and you see a flash of a moment long passed of the two of you in the same position; Jingliu’s smug smile hides the sun from view and the bustle of the training yard resumes the minute her victory is announced. When you blink your way back to reality, only a few seconds have gone by. You stare up into the blindfold, chest heaving. Your fingers hesitantly lift to graze the apple of her cheek. One of them slides under her veil and her hand wraps around your wrist to stop you from going further.

Her name is a breathy exhale past your lips. Her shoulders suddenly tense and her head tilts away from you. The moment breaks as she separates from you, rises to her feet and takes a couple steps back. Almost immediately, Cloud Knights rush to the scene in formation, followed closely by the General and his retainer. You let out a sigh, gaze raising to the clear sky. You lose yourself in its endless blue, a heaviness in your chest, until Jing Yuan’s outstretched hand appears in your vision. Jingliu is gone when you accept his help and stand with difficulty, along with Yanqing and the squad of Knights. Jing Yuan wraps a strong arm around your shoulders, steadying you, and you make your way back in silence.

He doesn’t leave your side even as you step into your home and make a beeline for the bathroom. His arms are crossed over his chest and he leans on the doorframe as you rummage through your cupboards for bandages and disinfectant. You find what you’re looking for after a couple minutes and sit on the toilet seat, lifting your armor over your head and discarding the bloodied shirt underneath. The cut on your left hip stings when you gently inspect it. It’s deep enough that it won’t be able to close on its own but not life threatening. You softly apply disinfectant so it doesn’t get infected, clenching your jaw at the pain.

“You should let the Dragon Lady take a look,” Jing Yuan finally speaks up, “or the Alchemy Commission have other experienced healers. They’ll treat you in minutes.”

You almost roll your eyes. You’ve been patching up wounds before he could hold a sword.

“Pass me the stitches.”

He complies, tossing you the plastic box on the counter. You catch it with a hand. Another silence settles between you as you sink the needle into your skin and tighten the thread, occasionally sucking in a breath. The space lingers with tension but neither of you acknowledges it until you break the thread of the stitches and apply a large bandage over the wound. You sigh tiredly and raise your head to meet his guarded gaze.

“Why did you lie, Jing Yuan?”

He takes a moment to reply. There’s a hint of guilt in his golden irises. “…I thought it to be the best course of action at the time.”

You don’t blame him. The days following Jingliu’s departure from the Luofu are a blur, hidden behind a smoke screen so thick you might as well have forgotten them. You only recall the sting in your throat, raw from how much you cried, and the darkness of your bedroom. Jing Yuan was there, as much as he was able to, so he must remember those days better than you; how shattered you were, like fractured shards of glass swept under the carpet. You can’t fault him for wanting to bring you closure.

You rise from your seat and put back the supplies in their rightful place. Jing Yuan steps aside as you walk out the door and watches you disappear in the bedroom for a change of clothes. You grab the first top you see and shrug it on. You don’t bother fixing your hair, you just make your way back to the living area to put on your boots and grab your discarded sword near the door. Jingliu should have been brought to the Shackling Prison after her arrest, so this is where you’ll go.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Jing Yuan says from behind you, making you pause. “We don’t know how stable she is.”

“She seemed stable enough.”

“For now.”

You turn to face him. “Then, why are you here? We both know bars can’t hold her.”

“I wanted to check up on you.”

“...I need to do this.”

Jing Yuan only shuts his eyes in defeat and nods once. He doesn’t follow you when you leave the house and shut the door behind you.

You have no issue getting into the Shackling Prison and acquiring Jingliu’s cell number. It’s not a place you visit often despite your position, the memories it holds have a way of consuming you and leaving you clenching your throbbing head. You navigate its somber hallways and silent cell blocks with an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. Your steps are swift, determined. You don’t stop to think about what you’re going to say once you’re face to face with her again. Jingliu is being held in a special containment chamber only used for dangerous criminals, with two Cloud Knights standing guard in front of the reinforced steel door. They look at each other when you plant yourself before them.

“No one gets in, General’s orders,” one of them says.

Your relationship with Jing Yuan is not a secret and often opens a lot of doors for you but encountering soldiers eager to please is a common occurrence. You have a few dozens under your command, they’re usually easy to deal with. However, the day has been long and you’re lacking the required patience to do so.

“Take it up with Jing Yuan, then.”

You push past them and they hesitate to stop you, glancing at each other. They grip their lances tighter when you open the door but don’t move as you enter the cell and close it after you.

The chamber is big enough to hold a single bed and a toilet in the corner, though its grey walls make it seem smaller than it is. The room would be casted in total darkness if not for the dim glow of the singular lightbulb on the ceiling. Jingliu is seated on the untouched mattress, legs crossed and palms flat on her knees. Her back is straight, her blindfold in place even in the low lighting, and you seem to have caught her in the middle of a meditation. She doesn’t speak as you stand awkwardly near the door, a hand curling around the handle of your sword in search of familiarity.

A couple minutes pass in tense silence with only the gentle buzzing of the electricity crackling through the lightbulb. You take that time to observe Jingliu for any sign of Mara. The even movements of her chest indicate her calm state of mind. Apart from the veil, she looks exactly the same as she did centuries ago; there’s no trace of the curse on her, and you are suddenly reminded of the first time you noticed her— you were the previous Lieutenant’s apprentice and she was a thin, pale girl haunted by nightmares of burning planets and suffocating fumes. That day, she crossed the training yard with a limp and cuts over her body, shattered sword held tight in one hand. You hadn’t gone out onto the field yet, your master didn’t think you were ready, but Jingliu had and you remember thinking that despite her poor state, she must be stronger than you. She would walk back at the end of each day with splintered and bruised skin and you would sneak her a glance, wondering what enemy she could have encountered this time. She was forced to survive and grew on the battlefield long before you did.

While you both learned the way of the sword, you did it to protect and she did it to cut down the object of her nightmares. Together, you climbed the ranks of the Cloud Knights and surpassed your masters. The burden of war brought you closer and your relationship transformed over the centuries; from comrades, to friends, to the one she went to whenever she craved peace from the visions plaguing her, to something more. You are deeply embedded in each other, her life story is yours and your mind is hers. The Mara curse might twist your perceived memories of her but it could never erase the affection you hold for her. It’s precisely because she means so much to you that thoughts of her have been tormenting you so.

Jingliu raises her head in acknowledgement and you’re brought back to the present with a blink.

“Sending you to interrogate me,” she says with a short exhale, words slow and raw, “how cruel.”

“That’s not why I’m here.”

She doesn’t reply, waiting for you to continue. You swallow the emotion in your throat.

“I’m here for closure.”

You take your eyes off her and turn away, facing the blank wall with a hand in your hair. You take in a slow breath and exhale through your mouth as fatigue begins to take over your limbs.

“You don’t get to come back,” you start. “After all those years, you don’t get to reappear and trail all those memories along with you. You said you were seeking atonement from the Alliance. So you remember, then.”

Jingliu is silent for a moment. Your back makes contact with the wall as you sit on the floor with your legs limp before you. You don’t look at her, instead staring at your covered toes.

“…I remember the voices,” Jingliu says softly, “so loud I couldn’t hear anything else. I remember people, the ice… you.” She takes a breath and shakes her head. “I am aware of the hurt I’ve caused, of the sins that cannot be erased. They will follow me until the end, but I cannot let them hold me back.”

“From what?”

“From cutting the heart of a star.”

The turn of phrase transports you back to a drunken evening and Baiheng’s contagious laughter, to the sweet aftertones of fruit in red wine and the flush in Jingliu’s cheeks as she stares at the setting sun. Flashes of that day appear in your mind; Baiheng’s ridiculous dares, your shared competitiveness, Jingliu’s tipsy kisses as consolation prizes. The unexpected memory warms you.

“Revenge, then. Even stricken with Mara, this is what you hold on to.”

“I was never satisfied with letting our enemies come to us.”

That much is true. Jingliu only ever plays the offensive.

Your head turns to face her. “Do you remember us? Even I only recall bits and pieces, now.”

Jingliu’s pointer finger taps her knee for some time. Then her chin tilts to the left, towards you.

“Bits and pieces, yes…” she repeats pensively. You wish you could see the pinch of her eyebrows. “You used to hate losing to me in duels.”

“Of course you’d remember that.”

There’s a hint of a smile on Jingliu’s lips. A light silence descends between you. It’s strange, being in a confined space with someone who you thought long dead; even stranger conversing with Jingliu after everything that went down with Yingxing and Imbibitor Lunae, with Baiheng, and the Luofu’s growth that she didn’t get to witness. You never thought you’d have a chance to see her again, let alone hear her voice speak back to you. Your fingertips twitch with the desire to hold her close.

“I forgot to ask, earlier,” you say, “about the blindfold.”

“It keeps me from seeing that which pulls me under the influence of the Mara. I have pushed past the limits of my mind a long time ago, but… the reprieve it gives me is welcomed.”

“Your will is admirable. Always was.” You think for a few seconds, then speak up hesitantly, “Will my touch be a trigger?”

Jingliu is slow to respond. You see her lips part to let out a sharp exhale and notice the new tension in her shoulders. You feel selfish for needing a semblance of the intimacy you once shared when her mind is so fractured and fickle. The feeling tightens your throat.

“…It shouldn’t.”

Your emotions threaten to consume you as you stand and wipe your palms on your thighs. You take some steps forward, hesitating when you reach the bed. Her head tilts backward as if staring at you through the cloth over her eyes. With a gentleness that surprises even herself, Jingliu uncrosses her legs and outstretches her hand. Your fingertips touch hers and with a flick of her wrist, slowly lace with hers. She pulls you into her, your knees on each side of her hips and your nose in her shoulder; her freezing hands travel over the expanse of your back and her head dips to breathe in the smell of your hair. You pinch your trembling lips and squeeze your eyes shut to keep the tears at bay, but it’s no use when you can feel the empty sockets that loss has dug inside of you over the years fill up with tenderness. A quiver runs through you. You feel Jingliu’s shaky breath near your ear as she pulls you tighter into her. Your arms wrap around her with as much emotion and warm tears roll down your cheeks over her frigid skin. Her touch makes you whole again, if only for a moment— she is tangible against you and not a fragment of the darkest recesses of your mind. It would seem unreal if you couldn’t feel the softness of her flesh beneath your fingertips.

“How lonely you must have been,” Jingliu mutters into your hair. You know she relates.

“I mourned you,” you manage to say, voice tight. “I’ve accepted that you’re gone. I won’t grieve any more.”

“Good. Then allow me a proper goodbye.”

You cry into her for a long time. Jingliu simply holds you closer with a hand on your back and fingers buried in your hair. You won’t see her again, she will be tried and judged on the Xuling and will go back to being a ghost of your past years. You only hope that this time the memories will be softer, full of her touch as she cleans your cuts; the curve of her mouth when you whisper good morning into her shoulder; the exhilarating sensation of her lips on yours after an exhausting day of wielding the sword. She remains your strength even as your tears dampen her clothes, with the scent of her around you and her breath in your ears, you feel strong enough to let her go. You lost her to the curse of the Abundance once, but she won’t slip through your fingers now. Regret and shame fade away, replaced by this new warm memory of you in each other’s arms. Her unnatural coldness expands your heart instead of constricting it and you let go of the collapsed buildings and acrid sulfur in the air; there’s only Jingliu’s lingering fondness and her calloused palms on your body. In this confinement cell, you say goodbye to a part of you.

[thatforkedroad]

always in reverse

[also on ao3] Siblings Marian and Garrett Hawke are so similar, and yet they’re as different as night and day (2!Hawkes au character study)

----

Marian is born exactly fourteen-and-a-half months before her brother. It’s long enough for her to claim absolute superiority as the eldest Hawke sibling, but not quite long enough for her to remember a life before Garrett. 

She has their mother's eyes and he their father's, but they share Malcolm’s thick sheaf of black hair, untamed and always unkempt despite their mother's best efforts. When Marian cuts her hair with the kitchen knife, they could be mistaken for twins. 

The similarities run deep and shallow. She and Garrett are both brash; they always have been, as if it was a part of the bloodstream tying them together. They both run straight into trouble, but brother is brash in that dashing hero sort of way, and he talks his way back out of trouble with an easy grin. Marian is brash, but not in the way people like. She learns to fight dirty in back alleys and the schoolyard, and an insult is met with a fist long before she can even consider a witty remark. 

He tracks mud in the door after a hunt, but he always cleans up after himself. He doesn’t leave blood or dirt on the table or ruin his third shirt that month. If he does get into trouble, he has their mother’s smooth speech and noble posture mixed with their father’s quick wit and brilliant smile. All Marian has is two hands and a bright-red temperament. He’s made for building and she for breaking. 

Sometimes it’s a wonder they’re related — a wonder she’s related to anyone in her family, even. She is not a mage or healer like her father, and she is not a proper lady like her mother. At least it gets easier with the twins. Sure Bethany’s even worse than Garrett, the perfect daughter for their highborn mother and the perfect student for their healer father, but Carver’s like Marian. Not by accident, either; he watches Marian practice — all jabs and sharp swings — until she takes pity and shows him a few sword stances she picked up in alleyways. 

Still, he’s more of a Hawke than she’ll ever be; he fights to protect, never to break. He shadows their parents as much as he shadows her. 

Marian is fourteen-and-a-half months and five years older than all of her siblings — so when Father dies, it would only be natural if she took on his roles to help her mother. That’s what the eldest is supposed to do. 

In some ways, it’s what she does; she’s the one who takes on more work to make up the coin they need, she’s the one who keeps the family safe when some idiot tries to nick Bethany’s purse. But Marian has spent her life trying to be anything but her parents and all she does is break things. So when someone has to take Malcolm’s real role, when someone has to care for the twins and fix the hole in the roof and make sure their mother is eating enough, Marian can only watch while her brother takes it upon his shoulders. 

He takes to older-brother-father with the same smooth ease he takes to everything. He comforts his younger siblings with stories and corrects Bethany’s form when she casts (even if he’s barely been practicing himself) and loses arm wrestles to Carver on purpose. He encourages Bethany to go for that apprenticeship with the apothecarist on the edge of town and congratulates Carver when he eventually gets his commission in the army.

Marian knows Garrett’s trying to fill the grieving hole in his chest with responsibility, but she doesn’t know how to stop him. All she has are two hands, and it’s oh-so hard to save someone from drowning when you’re nose-deep in the water too. 

In all his new responsibility, Garrett forgets to shave a few too many days. His thin stubble begins growing out into a thick black beard and Marian keeps spotting a dead man out of the corner of her eye. Nobody says anything. She supposes that in the mirror, it must be harder to notice the similarities between her brother and the corpse in Lothering cemetery. Garrett can’t see how it looks when he leans down to point at Bethany's book or when he claps Carver on the shoulder with a laugh. Doesn’t see the heartbreak in their mother's eyes or the way Marian’s heart tightens.

The twins don’t seem to notice either, or at least don’t seem to mind. Maybe it makes things easier for them, smoothens the transition from child to half-orphan until grief is hardly visible in their gold-and-blue eyes. 

But all their mother does is notice. Garrett smiles like a ghost and Mother treats him like the sun, something that will burn her eyes red if she looks for too long. Before Father, Marian would have asked her brother what it was like to be a vessel for their mother’s grief. After, now, everything has changed and she finds the question dying on her too-different tongue.

Besides, it doesn’t take long before she learns the answer for herself. 

They’re one of the last families to leave Lothering. It’s not like they take long to pack; they’ve been preparing for a moment like this since before Marian was even born, in case Father or Garrett or Bethany were seen by some nosy neighbour or lucky Templar. They’ve always known something would happen, always known there was something temporary about this house — even if they didn’t think it would end quite like this. 

But they’re Malcolm Hawke’s family and he taught them to help before he ever taught them to hide. When word and panic reaches the town, the Hawkes reach their neighbours — the old lady opposite whose children haven’t visited in a decade, the young parents four doors down, the veteran with the poor leg the next street over. They help them pack onto the few carts in town and assure them it will be fine. They stay until the darkspawn are visible from the highest hill and don’t look back when the monsters drown their home in Blight. 

Marian leads her family and the meagre few belongings they carry across Ferelden. They’re sore and tired and in the early stages of a new grief, but none of them complain about the hard paths and miles to go.

Marian wonders later if leaving earlier would have made a difference. If she should have ignored their father’s old lessons of compassion and just grabbed her families’ hands and ran. Some of the smaller darkspawn might still have caught up, yes, but surely not that ogre. Or if it had, maybe they would have been less tired when it did. And maybe, he would have…

When the ogre rises onto the plateau with a deafening roar, Marian grits her teeth and readies her sword for the first strike — but Bethany and Carver rush in before she can even react. She’s not sure how it happened. She’s not sure if it was because Carver was a faster runner or because Bethany has always been more careful or because twins don’t share their luck in equal parts. She just knows that within moments, she goes from being the eldest of four to the eldest of three. 

The siblings kill the thing they don’t yet realise is their brother’s murderer before they rush over to their mother and Carver’s not-quite-corpse. It is not an easy battle, but it seems too simple for what they know has happened. 

Marian drops to her knees by Carver’s torn chest. She vaguely registers Bethany’s distraught mumbling about healing spells and Garrett's too-wrong silence. But she can't take her eyes off her littlest brother’s red face. 

Carver reaches blindly up to his eldest sister with a bloody hand. In his dead-man’s-clumsiness, he smears it on her face before she can catch his hand and hold it for dear life. He returns her grip for a dear few moments — and then his fingers go loose and his eyes glaze over. 

The four of them stare at the body— no, at Carver, at Marian’s baby brother — until they really realise he is not going to move again. Little Carver, who would tumble and scrape his knee and always get straight back to running, is not getting up this time. Silence reigns over the family of now-four for minutes. They all know the darkspawn are coming, Marian knows she needs to tell them to move, but they– they can't leave him, can't carry him, can't save…

The silence is not broken gently. It is snapped in violence when Leandra looks up with fury in her ice-cold eyes and tells Marian this is your fault.

Garrett then says something, pulls their mother from the body (no, Carver), but Marian doesn’t hear or notice over the wide-eyed ringing in her ears. She lacks the words to defend herself — or worse, she lacks the will. Maybe, somewhere in her heart, she agrees. Maybe this is her fault, because Marian is the eldest by fourteen-and-a-half months and she is not her mother or her father, and all she has ever done is break things. 

[jamiewintons]

I haven’t been able to get this ask out of my head, and I’m kind of obsessed with the whole idea, so I decided to write a little bit for it! I’m terrible with writing multi-chapter fics, so I’ll probably just keep writing snippets and one shots from this universe. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

~

You were just about to escape down into the manhole when you heard someone behind you say your name. Fear spread throughout your whole body, freezing you in place. Damn it! You’d been caught, and that meant that the entire plan was probably ruined. Why had you not run faster?

A hand grabbed onto your shoulder, and you felt yourself being spun around. Your eyes widened when you saw who had caught you - it wasn’t a police officer as you had expected, but rather Mr. Fickelgruber. You felt relieved for a moment, but your heart rate quickly spiked again. Oh, this was even worse than being caught by the police! Not only was Fickelgruber a member of the Chocolate Cartel - and therefore an enemy - but you’d noticed the way he looked at you… not like he wanted to destroy you, but almost like he wanted something else. Something sinister.

“There you are, my dear,” Fickelgruber said with a sly smile. He withdrew his hand from your shoulder, studying your facial expression. “No need to look so anxious, darling. I am not going to harm you.”

“M-Mr. Fickelgruber… what are you doing here?” you asked, your voice annoyingly shaky. You wanted to sound tougher than that, but you couldn’t pretend you weren’t terrified, regardless of his assurances that he wouldn’t hurt you.

“I came to talk to you,” he told you, stepping a little closer to you. You were forced to step back, leaving you pressed up against the hard, brick wal of the alleyway. “About that debt of yours. You owe quite a large sum to Mrs. Scrubbit, don’t you? Such a large sum that I’m sure you’ll never be able to find the money to pay her what she is due.”

Of course you knew that. You didn’t need to be reminded. You’d been in the service of Mrs. Scrubbit since you were a young girl - even younger than Noodle was now. When you were born, your family was quite well off. You were loved, cared for, you always had food to eat and a nice bed to sleep in. But then one day, you were told that your parents had died. No one ever told you exactly what had happened to them, just that they were gone and they were never coming back. You were supposed to go into the care of some relatives, who would also take care of your inheritance until you came of age… but rather than care for you, they stole your inheritance and dumped you with Mrs. Scrubbit, who you were told was your ‘new guardian’. You were forced to sign a contract… and then put to work in the laundry. You’d long given up hope of ever escaping.

You were silent for a long moment, before the quiet was broken by Mr. Fickelgruber’s voice once again. “Oh, have I struck a nerve, my dear? I do apologise. I didn’t mean to upset you, I simply wanted to ensure that we were on the same page.” You weren’t sure whether you believed him when he said that he didn’t intend to hurt your feelings.

“What about my debt?” you asked, averting your eyes from his face. The way he stared at you was making you nervous. “I already know I’m going to spend the rest of my life in that laundry. I gave up believing I’d find a way out years ago.”

Fickelgruber tutted. “Oh, but what if I told you there was a way for you to get out? And not just you, but all of your friends as well.” Your gaze met his again, and your eyes went wide. “I see that I’ve caught your attention now,” he said with a smirk, sounding utterly pleased with himself.

“Really? All of us could get out?” For the first time in a long time, you felt hope for the future. It was a strange sensation that you almost didn’t recognise, and for a moment, it was as if all of your troubles had melted away. But a great deal of your hope was replaced with dread when you heard Fickelgruber speak again.

“On one condition.” Ah, you should have known. There was no way he was going to offer you a way out without expecting anything in return. He was a businessman after all, and that meant he would want to make a deal.

“I don’t have anything you would want.” You felt your heart drop. Salvation had been so close, only to be ripped away from you mere moments later.

“On the contrary, my dear. You have something that I would like very much.” Fickelgruber’s hand came up to gently brush against your cheek, and your breath hitched in your throat. Where was he going with this? "You see, I have found myself feeling rather… lonely, as of late. But I’m sure you understand that a man in my position cannot look just anywhere for companionship.

You didn’t know what to say. You’d had absolutely no idea what Fickelgruber was going to say, and never would you have guessed he was going to seriously suggest you marry him in exchange for your freedom and that of your friends. Momentarily speechless, you stared at Fickelgruber blankly, like you were waiting for him to laugh or tell you he was joking. But he simply stared back, and after about a minute, it finally sunk in that he was serious.

"W-what?" you stammered, completely lost for words.

"You heard me, darling," Fickelgruber said with a smirk, not seeming at all deterred by your baffled reaction. "I want you to be my wife. All of your debts will be payed, and you will live in luxury for the rest of your days. Doesn’t that sound nice?" His hand cupped your cheek, keeping you from looking away from him. Your face grew warm, and you felt a little bit light headed.

"Why would you want to marry me? I’m no one special, I just work in a laundry…"

"Oh, but we both know that isn’t who you always were, don’t we?” Your eyes widened in shock. How could he possibly know…? "I know where you came from, dear. The poor little orphan girl, losing her parents, and then having her inheritance ripped from her by her cruel family. You aren’t like your friends. You’re special. You deserve better than to be slaving away in some filthy laundry. You deserve to wear fine clothes, eat good food…" Fickelgruber’s voice trailed off, but he continued to stare right into your eyes. "You deserve to be cared for, and I can give you that."

What were you to do? You hated working for Mrs. Scrubbit. You were always tired and sore, and dirty… the promise of nice food and new clothes, not to mention a warm bath and a comfortable bed to sleep in… well, it was tempting. When you were a little girl, before you’d given up hope of escaping, you always dreamed of a handsome prince swooping in to save you - just like in the stories your parents read to you before they passed. Mr. Fickelgruber wasn’t exactly a prince - though you had to admit he was handsome - but he was offering you a way out. And not just for you, but for your friends as well…

“So if I say yes, all of the others will be free. You promise?” you asked cautiously, your eyes trained on his face - not that he was giving you much choice to do otherwise - trying to determine whether he was telling you the truth or not.

“Of course, my dear. Simply say the word, and I will send the money straight to Mrs. Scrubbit.” Though you couldn’t be completely sure, it seemed to you that Fickelgruber was telling the truth. Did he really care for you that much that he would pay such exorbitant fees, just to take you as his wife? The thought of someone desiring you so much… it made your stomach flutter. He truly was offering you a good deal…

"Yes, Mr. Fickelgruber. I… I will marry you."

[stephstars08]

Falling For Him

Neteyam x Metkayina!Reader

Warnings: Reader has traumatic past, Death, Depression, Anxiety, Some Angst, Some Fluff, Reader has Thanatophobia (Fear of losing someone), Weapons, and Possible Grammar Errors. (Sorry if I forgot anything)

Summary: Y/N biggest fear is losing someone she love or cares about. So when the Sully family comes Y/N immediately connects with the eldest Sully child, Neteyam. She knows that she’s falling for him but that fear of losing him is holding her back.

Word Count: 1,396

Author’s Note: My first Neteyam story is finally here! Sorry for the long wait!! Sorry that this is short. I’m just getting back into writing so my first couple of stories will probably be shorter than usual. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy and don’t be shy to let me know what you all think!

Y/N at just fifteen years old has a heartbreaking life. Y/N is Na’vi and was born into the Metkayina clan. For the first five years of her life, Y/N had a life just like every Metkayina kid. That’s until a tragedy changed her whole life forever. Her parents died in a fire when she was just five years old. Their Marius had caught fire killing both of her parents. Y/N’s father was the one that got her out of their home. When her father went back in to go get save her mother their Marius collapsed. No one knows how the Marius caught fire but Y/N still has hope that some day she’ll know what exactly happened.

After the loss, Y/N was adopted by Ronal and Tonowari who are the Tsahík and Olo’eyktan of the Metkayina clan. Y/N fit in well with their family. She grew extremely close with Tsireya.

When the Sully family came Y/N helped Tsireya and her brothers show the Sully kids the Metkayina ways and culture. While Tsireya helped Lo’ak and A’onung and Rotxo helped Kiri and Tuk, Y/N helped Neteyam who is the eldest child of the Sully’s.

When Y/N’s blue eyes first met Neteyam’s yellow eyes she felt something go through her body that she has never felt before. When she was showing him how to connect and ride an ilu every time their hands would brush up against one another’s Y/N would feel her heart race.

These new feelings have been terrifying for Y/N. After losing her parents at such a young age her biggest fear is losing someone else that she loves and cares for. That’s why the only Na’vi she has a close bond with is Tsireya. She’s the Na’vi she truly trusts. Neteyam has been nothing but kind to Y/N and she does feel like she can trust him but that fear of losing him is what’s holding her back.

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

Y/N was in her Marius gathering some fishing spears. She had three that were different lengths. The biggest one is the one she uses the most and it was also her father’s as well.

Tsireya walked into the Marius. “What are you doing?” Tsireya asked her in a curious tone. “I told Neteyam how my dad taught me how to use a fishing spear so he asked me if I could teach him.” Y/N answered rolling the three spears up into a small blanket. “I’ve noticed that you two have been getting along really well.” Tsireya said with a smile. Y/N just gave her a shrug which wiped the smile off Tsireya’s face.

“What’s wrong? Do you not like Neteyam?” Tsireya asked with concern in her voice. “I like him.” Y/N told her. “But?” Tsireya asked sensing that there is more. “I feel like I….ya know.” Y/N said looking up at her Tsireya. She just couldn’t find the right words but Tsireya knew what she meant since that smile returned. “Aw, Do you have a crush on Neteyam?” Tsireya asked with in awe as she sat down on the floor next to her. “It’s not so simple or easy for me to answer that.” Y/N told her looking away from her. “Because you’re scared that if you admit it, you’ll lose him.” Tsireya said knowing right away what Y/N is talking about. Y/N just gave her a nod.

“Can I give you some advice?” Tsireya asked her. Y/N gave her another nod as she looked up at her. “I know you’re biggest fear is losing someone but don’t you think that Neteyam deserves to know how you feel about him?” Tsireya asked looking at her with a soft look in her eyes. “It’s better for him to know than to never know.” Tsireya added.

Y/N knew that Tsireya was right. No matter what happens it’s better to be honest about how she feels. “You’re right. Thank you, Tsireya” Y/N said as her lips turned up into a small smile. “You’re welcome. You know that I’m always going to be here for you.” Tsireya said as she brought Y/N in for a hug which Y/N returned.

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

Y/N was on the sand with Neteyam. After Y/N showed Neteyam how to hold the spear she drew a target in the sand. Y/N had Neteyam start with the training spear which wasn’t as long as the one she uses. After he hit the target easily with the training spear she gave him a different on which was three lengths longer than the training one. Neteyam did even better so she gave him the one she uses which again is three lengths longer. But this spear wasn’t as easy as the other spears since Neteyam was having trouble hitting the bullseye.

Y/N could tell that Neteyam was getting frustrated so she suggested that they take a break. They took a seat down next to each other in the sand.

“How did you get your spear?” Neteyam asked her in a curious tone. “It was my father’s. He made it himself.” Y/N answered as she stared down at her hands that were resting on her lap.

“Thank you for being so nice to my family and I.” Neteyam told her with a soft smile. “You’re welcome.” Y/N said looking up at him returning the soft smile. As Y/N’s blue eyes stared deep into Neteyam’s yellow eyes they started to lean into one another until Y/N suddenly pulled back and away from him.

“I’m sorry! I just got caught up.” Neteyam apologized quickly. “It’s okay Neteyam.” Y/N reassured him. “It’s not you, it’s me.” Y/N added which confused him. “What do you mean?” Neteyam asked her. “I do like you Neteyam and I am falling for you but since the loss of my parents I’m always scared that I’m going to go through that pain again. That’s why I distant myself and hide my feelings for everyone.” Y/N explained to him.

She could feel tears forming in her eyes so she looked away from him. “Tsireya told me that I should be open to you but it’s just going to take me time to open up since I’ve been holding in my feelings for a long time.” Y/N told him. Neteyam used one of his hands to pick her head up so she was looking back at him. She had some tears rolling down her face. “Then we can take it slow.” Neteyam told her. “I’m falling for you, too. But I don’t want to rush you into anything.” Neteyam added as he put his hand onto her cheek.

He wiped her tears away with his thumb. Y/N felt that familiar feeling in her chest from his touch. His touch made her feel safe and warm. “Do you want to take it slow?” Neteyam asked her in a curious tone. Y/N smiled as she nodded her head. “I want to take it slow.” Y/N said which made Neteyam smile.

“Neteyam!” They heard a familiar voice call out. When Y/N and Neteyam looked over they saw Lo’ak and Kiri walking towards them. Lo’ak was the one that called out to Neteyam. “Woah, are we interrupting something here?” Kiri asked referring to Neteyam’s hand on Y/N’s cheek. Neteyam quickly took his hand off Y/N’s cheek. “No!” Neteyam and Y/N said at the same time. “Sure doesn’t seem like it.” Lo’ak said in a teasing tone which made Neteyam roll his eyes in annoyance.

“Why are you two here?” Neteyam asked his siblings with annoyance in his voice. “Mom and Dad want us to come home and eat.” Kiri told him. “Okay.” Neteyam said as he stood up. “Do you want to finish this training session tomorrow?” Y/N asked standing up onto her feet. “Sounds good to me.” Neteyam told her with a smile. “See you tomorrow.” Neteyam added. “See you tomorrow.” Y/N said with a big smile on her face. She’s hasn’t smiled that big in a very long time. “See you around Y/N!” Kiri said in a kind tone and walked away with her brothers.

Y/N gave the Sully kids a wave and then gathered her spears together and wrapped them back up in her blanket. She picked the blanket up and made her way back to her Marius.

It felt so good for her to finally confess her feelings for Neteyam. She is so excited to continue Neteyam’s spear training tomorrow.

[missesnott]

Lucky Bracelet | Lorenzo Berkshire X Fem. Ravenclaw Reader

•Summary: After Lorenzo finds your bracelet and hands it back to you, he asks you out on a date which you happily say yes to. How did your date went?

You were looking at the mirror, wearing some jeans and a cute blue sweater. Luna was sat on her own bed, looking at you.

"I think you look great Y/n" Luna complements you, giving you a little smile.

"Thanks Luna" you smile back "It's almost 7PM, should we go to the common room?" Luna nods and you both leave the dorm.

A few moments later you say goodbye to her and you leave the common room, finding Lorenzo leaned on the wall of the corridor, waiting for you. As soon as he sees you, he straightens up and reveals a small smile.

"Hello." he greets.

"Hi Lorenzo" you give him a softly smile.

"Just 'Enzo' is fine." you nod at his words and you walk up a little closer to him.

Now you both are walking side by side, you have no idea what to say.

"So, tell me a little about you..." he was just trying to make conversation, he already knew a lot of things about you.

"Well, I'm a muggle born. I live in London. My dad owns a restaurant and my mom owns a flower shop... I swear it's not as boring as it seems" you chuckled and he smiled "What do your parents do?" you asked innocently.

Enzo stopped for a minute, thinking on a soft way to tell you about the big mommy issues he had and the fact that his dad was dead and was the only one who cared for Enzo.

"Well... My parents met in Hogwarts, and they decided to follow the same path. They work at the ministry, at least my dad did."

"Was he fired?"

"No, he died." he says in a low tone fast. That immediately made you look guilty. "It's okay, you didn't know."

Now, you were back to begining and had nothing to talk about. You were both nervous in different ways.

You were nervous because this was your first time interacting with a boy that had shown the slightest interest in you. Not that you did not have boy friends, you were just nervous because you never went out on a date with a guy and had absolutely no idea on what to do. Also, you weren't the kind of person who had thousands of friends, but you trusted your life if needed in the ones you had.

Enzo, on the other hand was nervous because he liked you. He had dated another girls in the past, so he knew what to do in these moments.

"So..." you tried to initiate a conversation again "Where are we going?"

"I thought we could walk around Hogsmead and maybe get some food if you wanted to."

"Sounds good."

He then starts to talk to you, changing the subject. You both walk side by side, seeing some things in the windows of the stores and seeing how much you two had in common.

You both pass by a dressing store and you notice a beautiful emerald dress. You stop for a minute to watch it and Enzo notices.

"Do you wanna enter to try it on?" he asks, positioning himself besides you.

"No, no! I can't even pay half of the dress..." you made an excuse that wasn't quite an excuse.

"Trying on doesn't mean you'll have to buy it." he encourages you.

You look at the dress one more time before walking towards the door. You look back at the slytherin and see that he is still behind you.

"You're not coming in?" he smiled and held the door so you could enter and enters just after you.

You tell the lady working in there that you wanted to try the dress. She hands it to you carefully and you make your way to the dressing room, while Enzo makes his way to the couch, waiting for you.

You put the dress on, feeling amazing. The colour suited you, and the dresses fitted you very well.

"Are you alright in there?" Enzo asked. After a few seconds you open the curtains and he sees you with the green dress. "You look... amazing."

"You think...?"

"Absolutely!"

''Well, as long as I think that it is beautiful, I cannot take it."

"Why not?" he walks up to you.

"I told you, I don't have even half of the money to buy this..."

He nods and then he stops for a minute, thinking about something, but he keeps quite.

"I'll change clothes" you say, walking again to the dressing room, taking the dress off. You leave and hand the dress to the lady who takes it very carefully and places it on its previous place.

Enzo opens the door once again to you, letting you get out first.

"You want to get some food, perhaps?" he speaks up once you leave the store.

"Yes, please, I'm hungry." you chuckle and he lets out a little chuckle too.

[...]

After hours that went by like minutes, you both had had a great date. You talked and you learned some things about him - he didn't learn something about you that he didn't already know - you ate something and bought some candies.

That was how your saturday afternoon was spent, and you both would want to do it again. You liked the slytherin boy company, as much as he did.

He walked you to your common room again and said goodbye. He didn't ask you for another date, but that didn't passed through your mind that quick, since you would see him tomorrow.

You made your way back to your dorm, where Luna was reading her magazine. At the moment you step the foot inside the dorm, she dropps her magazine and turns to you.

"Hi Y/n, how was your date?" you take your shoes off, walking towards her and sit on the bed, telling her everything.

[...]

You and Luna were walking around the corridor, seeing boys walking up to girls and asking them to the Yule Ball. You and Luna did not had someone to go with, but you could enjoy both of your company that night.

"Do you think Lorenzo is going to ask you to go to the Yule Ball?" she asks you, when you both stopped and sat on a bench, letting the time pass by so you could go to your class.

"I don't know, why the sudden question?" you ask, noticing that she's paying attention to something else behind you.

"Because he is walking to here right now..."

You did not had time to react since you heard him right behind you. You slowly turn around and he shows you a little smile.

"Hello..."

"Hey Enzo" you smile back, thinking that he could actually invite you to go with him.

"I was thinking, do you already have someone to go to the Yule Ball?" he sits on the bench next to you.

"No... Why?"

"I was hopping you could go with me."

"I'd love too!" you smile, which makes him smile.

"Oh, and I left something on your bed."

"How did you entered my dorm?!" you ask amused.

"I have ways. See you later?"

"Yes, bye."

"Alright, see you, bye Luna." He also gives the blonde a soft smile.

You watch him as he walks away. When he is far enough, you get up.

"Where are you going?" Luna asks.

"To our dorm. See what Enzo left. You want to see too?" she nods and you both make your way back to the dorm. You enter and you see a big beige box with a baby blue bow.

"Open!" Luna says, since you were just admiring it.

You open the box and you couldn't believe. It was the dress you tried on, on your date with Enzo two days ago. It was very expensive, you could not afford half of it.

You see a note and grab it, reading it:

"Dear Y/n, I hope you like the dress, which is totally a surprise to you . And please, keep it. It's a present. And don't worry about paying it, as I said it's a present."

You smiled while reading the note. You put it down and take the dress out of the box, placing it in your wardrobe.

After everything that happened - from losing your bracelet, having someone to find it and then asking you out on a date - you could maybe say that this really was a lucky bracelet.

5th post! I did not know a better way to end it, so, I guess this was the best I could find! Enjoy 💗

[tossawary]

Is it ever mentioned or alluded how old was Airplane when he died?

EDIT: I have been corrected on the numbers below! I misremembered some details! Airplane Bro WAS updating 10,000 words daily with bursts of 25,000 words. We do also know that he went to university at some point. Please check out the comments added to this post for more accurate details!

Original post:

As far as I know, we never really get a fixed number. We do know that Airplane was living on his own, supporting himself, no longer supported by his divorced parents. I can't remember if we actually know whether or not he went to college, but he wasn't in college when he transmigrated, I think, which suggests that he had already finished college or had dropped out by then.

Thanks to Shen Yuan, we do know that Proud Immortal Demon Way was at least 20 million words long and that Airplane Bro was notable for his speed of writing as well as how much he wrote. Shen Yuan at one point says that Airplane Bro was capable of occasionally doing multi-day 10,000 words updates, which I take to mean that Airplane Bro was overall averaging far less than 10,000 words per day, because that update schedule is nuts. The 10,000 words daily bursts were rare and remarkable.

But, if we decide to assume that Airplane Bro was really writing and posting 10,000 words a day nonstop, then that's 3,650,000 words a year. It would take him about 5.5 years to write 20,000,000 words. Let's assume that his writing schedule was slightly less nuts than that and say that he was writing about 5,000 words per day, which would mean that PIDW took him 11 years to write, which sounds a little more reasonable when I'm pretty sure that PIDW wasn't his only project. It's just the one that took off as a smash hit.

I generally headcanon Airplane starting to write novels in his mid to late teenage years, which gives him a little time to explore other projects, before maybe starting PIDW in his college years for fun at first, before he has to change his original plans in order to make money to support himself. He would be in his late twenties at the youngest, probably, unless his writing speed and update schedule really was that nuts. (Shen Yuan makes some comments about the author of PIDW having the writing skills of a child. It is admittedly funny to consider Airplane Bro maybe being a young teenager when he started writing PIDW, like 13 or 14-ish, though I don't hold it as headcanon. It's a fun fic idea.) It is way more likely that he was in his thirties when he transmigrated, especially if he only started publishing PIDW after college.

It's hard to know how old Airplane actually feels when he had to live a childhood over again in a brand new world. We don't actually get any confirmation on how old Mobei-Jun is either, but it is funny to think about Shang Qinghua potentially having 30+ years of another life on MBJ, when an age difference is, like, the least of Moshang's problems and it takes them 25+ years (however old Binghe is at the bare minimum because I'm pretty sure that they met before he was born) to actually hook up.

I still want to write at least a one-shot of Airplane Bro transmigrating in as himself (I had a tag for this, I need to go find it). He still manages to become a cultivator, maybe through author knowledge cheats, but he looks like a totally average man in his forties or fifties. Because he is not that young! And younger man Mobei-Jun, I think, especially with all of his father-related and uncle-related issues, would be so embarrassingly into this.

[lyrakanefanatic]

Tig character hcs except this time it’s not their kids and just them!!

- I just KNOW the hawthornes made vines, and then Nash would have to be the one to edit and record them all 💀💀

- max used to make taylor swift music videos and then have her brother record them (yes, she has a brother that’s mentioned like once in the first book 💀💀)

- Avery is taller than libby by like 🤏 much

- Jameson “hates” cats but pets every cat he sees

- Libby used to make baking tutorials when she was 12

- Xander met maxs parents once and then was traumatized by them ever since (he’s scared of them)

- grayson has a 7 step skincare routine

- Xander once tried to surprise tackle nash but accidentally gave him a concussion so he was banned from doing that for a couple months 💀

- avery and Jameson have movie marathons that consists of eating Libby’s desserts and binge watching classics (or horror movies)

- grayson has a light blue skincare fridge

- when xander was little he tried to smuggle candy so he could eat it late at night and then they got maggots living in his room after that 💀

- Tobias was soooo mad

- libby has fed more cupcakes than she would like to admit to tiramisu

- thea used to have “fashion runway shows” in her bedroom, which meant wearing 748248 different pieces of clothes ontop of one another, and somehow managed to convince little xander to do it with her

- he still has the photos to haunt him to this day

- Grayson will NEVER EVER EVERRR admit it, but he likes rom coms. So sometimes, when it’s late at night and everybody else is asleep, he will binge watch a romcom or two. It’s his guilty pleasure and as much as he pretends to hate them and gaslights himself into thinking they’re cringe, he still loves them

- Rebecca never really got much attention from her mother, but sometimes Tobias would spend the day with her and show her cool puzzles. She would always look forward to those days, as it’s the one time she doesn’t have to worry about pleasing Emily (💔)

- Nash definitely had a girlfriend when he was 13 and when they broke up he started wearing all black and turned emo for two weeks. When his little brothers started catching on and asking Tobias what happened, he would just say “nash is going through a phase 😇”

- before Jameson learned Latin, he learned all the bad words and then started saying them to EVERYBODY (Tobias shut it down pretty quickly, but then they had to actually learn Latin so there wasn’t much Tobias could really do about it 💀)

- max almost died once because she decided to go ham on the pills that her parents had on the top cabinets

- Avery watched every single chipmunks movie about a million times because her mom used to think they were HILARIOUS

- when Gigi was little, she was sooo clumsy and would break everything, so it got to a point where even when Savannah would accidentally break a vase or something gigi would still get the blame for it 💀

- Grayson chased Jameson around the house with a knife once

- when they were little the Hawthornes would take April fools sooo seriously, which meant multiple things exploding, whipped cream being thrown in peoples faces, and just so much more chaos

- xander was a slime kid when he was little. He would have sooo much slime and would be constantly making it, and he also tried to do those “making slime without glue” things 💀

- when Avery was born and Libby saw her as a baby, she was so happy and was crying because she’s always wanted a little sister 💖💖:(

- max had a dream one time where Xander cheated on her so she called him crying at 2:54 AM while being half asleep and shouting about how he could do this to her

- she hung up not long after that and went back to sleep, but when she woke up she realized it was a dream (she still gets made fun of for it by xander to this day)

- xander asks libby if she can make him blueberry and lemon scones because they’re “better when she makes it” 🫶🫶

- when Rebecca and Xander were little, they tried storing WILD ANIMALS under xanders bed because they wanted a zoo 💀

- one of the animals ate through the walls, so that’s how Tobias found out

Okay I think that’s all!!! Lmk if u want me to do more, bc it’s actually rlly fun lmao