#i want to paint for her or Her herself because she's just so so stunning

[ddamysc]

*in mailman sturdy voice* you got mail

Oh my god.. a letter from the traveller for me in the most ethereal handwriting i could have ever seen.. this is like a blessing to me (fainted) Please please tell my dearest traveller that her handwriting captivates me tremendously like she herself does. each letter drawn so calligraphically it makes me want to observe the whole writing for hours.. and the little star and spiral at the end are beautiful details 🩷

now the invitation ah.. i would be very much elated to explore the enthralling path and the woods and visit the alluring glade with magical pixies with traveller tonight!! to be honest it would be my pleasure and an honor to accompany traveller in any of their wonderful adventures anytime.. i thank the beloved traveller for this precious invitation and i wonder if i could bring my little friend catdeer too? i believe he'd love to wander around as well 🩵

Infinite hugs for traveller from me, the Lady moon 🌷

[donatellawritings]

ahh hi tella!!! so happy that ur writing for obx :) i need to see how rafe would handle a latina sweeetheart 🎀 maybe she’s kie’s cousin? i just know he’d probably be such a cocky jerk ughhhhhh thx babe

omg i am blushing just thinking about this xo

you were laid on the warmed surface of your towel, leaning on your forearms as your sun kissed skin continued the drink in the intense rays, your white, cherry covered bikini clashing perfectly against your tanned complexion, you loved days at the beach, i mean, what better way to kill time, than to eat fresh fruits and listen to your favorite music, while taking in the stunning north carolina sun for all of its glory?

you continued to lay back, your sunglasses shielding your eyes as you hummed along to the amy winehouse song that flowed through your speakers. the sudden shadow that overtook your vision, now causing you to remove your sunglasses, your eyes squinted as you took in the sight of your cousin - kiara carrera.

your chest visibly rose and fell as you sighed, your squinted frown fading into a gleeful smile, “what’s up, kie?” you asked, your wispy eyelashes batting as she hastily dropped herself onto the sand beside you.

she quickly looked over her shoulder, rolling her eyes as she returned her attention back to you, her arm reaching over you stomach as she grabbed a red grape that sat in the sweaty sand-covered container that rested by your waist, “nothing, it’s just jj being — jj,” she sighed, popping the small fruit into her mouth.

you liked jj, platonically, of course.

“he seems nice,” you chirped, turning onto your stomach, the cherry decorated bikini bottoms that you wore, now wedged between the plush cheeks of your ass as it faced the warm sun.

kiara shrugs with a slight shake of her head, you could tell that she wanted to say more, but decided against it, the moment her eyes fell on your back.

your nails clashed against one another as you undid the knot that secured your bikini top, and concealed your perky breasts, eager to get as much of an even tan as possible, “why are you looking at me like that?” you questioned, reaching for a grape.

“i dunno — maybe it’s because you just undid your top?” kiara countered sarcastically.

you stuck out your tongue, placing the grape into your mouth, soft biting into the crispy fruit before resting the side of your cheek against the surface of your hand, “but, i hate tanlines,” you pouted with a laugh.

you and kiara were thick as thieves, and sure, the reasoning for why you had to live with your cousin wasn’t the most pleasant — but she loved having you around. you were raised as sisters, both of you holding the most intimate details about the other. and boy, did you both balance each other out well! you were bubbly and were quick to let anyone in, which served to be a detriment to you at times, nevertheless, you were a hopeless romantic who made it her business to find beauty in even the most mundane of things.

as you would say, you loved everything that was pretty. your blown-out hair was always shining, wispy eyelashes always curled immaculately, supple lips glazed in shimmery gloss, acrylic-enforced nails always painted in varying shades of pink or a simple french design. you loved wearing clothes that would show off your lower back and midriff - why? no rhyme or reason, you just like how it looked.

you had a heart of gold, wrapped in a bow, making it easy for those around you to be pulled into you and your dreamy ways.

it also made it just as easy for you to end up hurt and taken advantage of.

you and kiara remained engrossed in each other, laughter emitting from the both of you, “so, are you going to stay for the kegger or are we going home for dinner?” kie questioned, a smile remaining on her lips as she watched you try to tame your overwhelming fit of laughter.

you spoke with a giggle, “i don’t know, i promised tio that i’d help him with dinner, one of these days,” you whined, your innocent eyes searching kiara’s for any kind of pull towards your decision.

“okay, well we need to decide soon, before-” kiara began, her words ceasing as a large shadow suddenly towered over the two of you.

you straightened your neck, looking up through your lashes as the tall guy crouched down, your eyes following as he leveled with you. fuck, he was hot.

“shit, kie, y’didn’t tell me you had a secret hot sister,” the guy spoke, his bright blue eyes cutting into yours as swallowed thickly, your glossy lips now running dry.

you tried to remain as still as possible, your eyes widening at the realization that your bikini top was still untied.

“fuck off, rafe, she’s my cousin,” kiara scoffed with disgust.

you remained entranced by the guy, rafe, who kept his bright eyes on yours, a smirk tugging on his lips as he took a quick look over your shoulder, tilting his head at the sight of your untied top and barely-there bottoms.

“ah, cousin?” he asked mockingly, licking over his lips, “does this cousin of yours have a name?” he pushed, the glint of his chain peeking out from his crisp t-shirt now catching your eye.

you sweetly revealed your name, your oh-so slight accent spilling through as you subconsciously batted your pretty lashes up at rafe, “and you are,” you smiled, a toothy grin.

“rafe cameron,” he spoke sternly, ignoring kiara’s protests with a roll of his eyes as he leaned closer to you, until his lips reached your ear, “i’d shake your hand, but i wouldn’t want everyone at this beach to see what you got under there,” he cooed, his condescending tone like silk in your ears.

you couldn’t help but blush like a schoolgirl, much to your cousin’s dismay.

rafe decided to make push just a little bit more, “may i?” he spoke rhetorically, his large hands sliding down your shoulder blades.

“rafe, what the fu-”

you remained still, refusing to make eye contact with kiara as rafe tied the strings of your bikini top into a secure knot, “relax, kie - m’just making her decent,” he pulled away, standing firmly of his feet.

you’d be lying, if you said that you rafe’s hands against your warmed skin didn’t excite you. his touch was oddly tantalizing for you as you were forced to ignore the subtle ache that pulsed between your legs.

you pushed yourself off of your front, now standing directly across from rafe, his eyes shamelessly drinking in the sight of your chest as he was especially intrigued by the tan line that was revealed by the shifted cup of your bikini top.

“thank you, rafe” you spoke softly, holding out your hand as you took in the staggering height difference between you and the man before you, his buzz cut hair causing you to bashfully bite down into the sticky swell of your bottom lip.

rafe accepted your hand, the sound of his name rolling off of your tongue causing blood to rush to his length as he let out a dry chuckle, enclosing his fingers around your hand, watching closely as your breath slightly hitched from his subtle grip on your hand. you two remained like this for a beat as rafe sized you up — he could smell just how genuine and sweet you were, his mind carelessly wandering to how you’d look under him, taking him for all he has. you were much smaller than him, and it ticked a region in his tainted mind that suddenly ached to have you around in any way possible.

the sudden cut of a deep voice calling out didn’t even faze rafe as his lips curved into a smile, “yo! rafe, i’ve been looking everywhere for you man,” a taller blond guy appeared beside rafe.

rafe softly released your hand, before wiping the corners of his mouth with his index finger and thumb, exhaling sharply as he faced the blond, “well, top, i’ve been busy catchin’ up with good ol’ kie, and her pretty little cousin that’s she’s been hiding from us.”

the taller blond glanced at you, he was quicker to size you up, before redirecting rafe back into his original conversation. kiara softly grabbed your arm, carrying your speaker and container of grapes.

“let’s go home,” she nudged her head towards the street, completely privy to how dumbstruck rafe had made you. she could tell that you liked it and refused to ever allow rafe to get his hands on you.

at least, not when she was around.

“oh, okay,” you mumbled defeatedly, reaching down to grab your towel from the sand, quickly turning to face rafe who watched intently as you walked away.

“bye,” you mouthed with a small wave, before turning around to catch up with your feverish cousin.

rafe continued to feign interest in whatever the fuck topper was talking about, his eyes set on your body as you walked farther and father away from him. god, he loved the way your ass bounced with each step you took. in his fucked mind, he knew that kiara was right to keep you hidden, but now since you weren’t hidden, at least not from him, he knew that it would only be a matter of time before you were his, and his only.

of course, you being such a willing sweetheart made it all the more easier for him.

[ssahotchnerr]

Reader sending Aaron cute messages when he’s off on cases and him not realizing he’s kinda smiling when reading them? Or they just make him in a much better mood in general and the others let reader know when they’re officially introduced? Idk it sounded cute in my head LOL

all thanks to you

omg that's ADORABLE cw; FLUFF

"you!" you had merely crossed the threshold of dave's foyer, only to be attacked by a sudden, warm embrace.

"me?" you said within a laugh. you caught yourself before penelope's abrupt hug caused you to lose your footing, quick to reciprocate and the butterflies in your stomach somewhat lessening.

it was your very first night meeting the bau team, and you had been beside yourself with nerves for close to a week now - ever since aaron had first mentioned the get-together. as they were the next closest thing to aaron's family than jack, you equally wanted to make a perfect first impression.

you must've shown aaron at least five potential outfits before you had left his apartment, asking him over again if he were sure the time was right for you to meet them, and if he was even more sure they would take to you.

aaron had reassured you, that first, you would look stunning in whatever you wore. and second, they would adore you. he offered the comfort that he himself wasn't worried, because he knew them, and he knew you. "trust me," he had said, chuckling softly as he grabbed his car keys. "i'll be long forgotten once they get to know you."

likewise, aaron had already warned you - penelope was ecstatic to meet you and would not keep that hidden in the slightest. but if she were half of what aaron had already described, you knew the two of you were guaranteed to be instant friends. and her current show, was pure evidence of that.

"it's so nice to finally meet you. you have no idea how long i've been waiting." penelope grinned, buzzing from ear to ear. "like, once hotch opened a text from you while we were all sitting around, y'know, being productive. and boy, i knew he was a goner."

"really?"

"are you kidding? okay," she takes a second, as if she's mentally preparing herself, ready to paint the picture. "we were sitting there, like i said. his phone goes off, and y'know that normal face he makes - eyebrows kinda pinched, mr mcpouty pants? - you know the one. he picks up his phone, reads it and he smiles. full-on smiles, right in front of us. he didn't think we noticed, but we did. didn't he smile?" her hand smacks out onto derek's arm, who happened to be passing by, resulting in a gentle slap.

"yeah babygirl." derek flashed a smile in your direction. "saw it with my own eyes."

"so," penelope's hand now flew onto your arm, resuming her energetic story. "when he realized he smiled, god forbid right - mr grumpy face returns, rather labored this time because again, the world will end if we witness anything otherwise. hotch simply puts down his phone as if it were nothing, but oh my god, he was blushing so hard i thought he was gonna explode. he was so so tickled."

"aww," you laughed, your lips curving into a smile and more love for aaron - if it were possible- swelling in the middle of your chest. "that's so sweet."

"oh honey, and that's one time out of, millions. dare i say, he got used to smiling and was generally in such a better mood all around." she lightly shakes your arm. "earlier nights, later morning starts, no more mr mcpouty pants - well, for the most part. all thanks to you!"

you felt a familiar presence still behind you, a hand finding your back. "you blush when i text you?" you turned your head up towards aaron, blush of your very own tinting your cheeks.

aaron shrugged reservedly, helping you slide your coat off your shoulders and folding it over his arm. "i did mainly at the beginning."

"sir, no." penelope shook her head, a pleased smirk vibrant on her face as her gaze switched between the two of you. "you were blushing today."

[silantryoo]

baek harin x reader

WARNINGS ; TRIGGER WARNING! heavy manipulation, love bombing, possessiveness, gaslighting, physical and emotional abuse, spoilers up to episode 8 of pyramid game

your thoughts ran wild.

harin probably already knew. somehow, she always figured out what you were thinking, as if you were an open book. she could tell your worries and your fears by glancing at you.

you did well. you knew that she would be proud of you, but still...

you shook your head. now wasn't the time to be nervous.

smoke wafted around the baekyeon heiress as you approached her, her eyes drifting in the distance. in her hand, a cigarette, laced with gold and stuffed with toxins that harin always seemed to indulge herself in.

her head tilted towards you, a dull sparkle in her eye.

"so?"

her voice was monotone, carrying out a sense of boredom that she only showed to a few others.

you watched her in all her beauty, the curls of the fog shaping the area around her. the heiress was stunning, and it always took you a couple seconds to reel yourself back to reality.

harin rolled her eyes as she approached you, tapping the side of her smoke as a warning.

instinctively, you straightened, your eyes wide as she smiled.

there was something so addictive about frightening you, something that was true genuine fear laced with an undying loyalty. you were impossible to replicate, a faithful dog waiting by her bedside.

you took a deep breath, inhaling the smoke through your nose. "i got ambushed by jaeun, suji, and them."

"i thought so." another puff of smoke exited her mouth. "did they mention anything?"

anything else?

you bit your tongue, your face ridden with guilt.

you were tired of the game, tired of getting hurt. as much as you yearned for harin's happiness, the exhaustion was getting to you. you just wanted one day to yourself, without eunbyeol and harin breathing down your back.

"no."

harin's eyes hardened, her gaze trained on you like a hawk. her pupils took in the sight; your quivering mouth, your avoidant stare...

she smiled.

"why don't i believe you?" harin clicked her tongue, pointing the end of her smoke near your cheek. "is it because you're lying to me?"

she knew. how did she know?

"no, i just..."

("join us.")

you never questioned why class 1-5 were in the middle of nowhere.

the building was nice, decorated with marble columns and sleek white paint. the washrooms were clean, close by, and rarely messy except for the occasional tissue lying on the ground.

it felt as if you were purposely isolated, the twenty-four other girls in your class being the only ones in reach.

sometimes, you even forgot other classes existed.

"harin's a fucking bitch."

you paused. kim dayeon?

a girl like her wouldn't be caught dead in the library. there was no reason for her to be here, much less talk shit about the heiress of the entire school.

you kept your mouth shut as your thoughts wandered to the girl in question.

baek harin.

pretty, intelligent, soft-spoken. from what you've seen, all those things were right. you were always too shy to approach her, your thoughts clouded by the beauty that she held. from what you heard from others, she was the embodiment of niceness, going out of her way to lend others money with nothing in return (yet).

why would dayeon even say these things about her?

"god, you think she's all high and mighty." dayeon muttered, her feet shuffling as she paced back and forth. "that psycho probably wants us to worship the ground she walks on."

psycho? baek harin wasn't a psycho.

"a hierarchy game?" dayeon could already see it in her head. she had no choice but to agree at that moment, wanting to spare herself from her father later that day, but when harin had mentioned it... "is she demented?"

"pyramid game, dayeon." seo doah. that made sense as to why dayeon was here. "if you're gonna insult it, at least name it properly."

"shut it."

"you might also wanna check if anyone else is in the library." your throat ran dry as doah stood up, staring at you across the room. "right, y/n?"

you shot up, your eyes wide as dayeon stared at you. there was something in her eyes that was unfamiliar.

fear? what was she scared of? surely, it wasn't harin.

"um..."

"fuck." your eyes widened at her words. never in your life would you have thought that the eccentric kim dayeon would swear like a sailor. "don't you dare say shit, you understand me?"

you shook your head, your body stiff. "i won't-"

"you don't know what the fuck is at risk here." dayeon's anger roared throughout the library, her fist shaking. dayeon wouldn't hit you... right? "open your mouth and i'll stitch it shut."

you nodded, trembling as you packed your things to leave.

"jeez, dayeon..." doah shook her head.

you stood up, your bag half open, and your textbooks barely inside. in your arms, you gathered everything that you could, arms shaking as you rushed out the room.

a spark of fear lighted up inside you when you saw daeyeon fingernails imbed themselves into the soft skin of her palm. the crescents swelled a bright red, and you knew that she wasn't joking.

she was gonna hurt you. was she gonna hurt harin as well?

you needed to get out of here, maybe even tell harin how insane and dangerous her friend seemed.

how was that even possible? how could someone like dayeon hold a rage inside themselves like that? you could understand it from that suck up, wooyi, but dayeon?

you stumbled slightly as you turned the corner, the books nearly falling out of your bag as you collided with someone. a strong, sculpted hand grabbed your elbow, electricity shooting up your arm.

that feeling...

"is something wrong?"

her breath smelt faintly of nicotine, her perfume - one you assumed cost at least a couple hundred dollars - blocking the scent enough to not register in your brain.

you bit your tongue. "no..."

"you can tell me, y/n-ah." your heart leaped at her words, a cloud of affection and care seemingly coating them. "i don't bite."

harin's smile seemed so soft and elegant, like the status she so desperately upheld. her eyes gleamed gently (and if you looked any closer, void of life) as her cheeks dusted in a costly blush.

don't snitch. you thought as her worried gaze peered into your soul. why should i protect dayeon?

you bit your tongue, your chest bursting with guilt at the thought of dayeon laying a finger on the heiress in front of you.

"dayeon..." you whisper as an eyebrow on her pretty face raised. "she, um, she might hurt you."

you waited for harin's face to shift into worry, into fear, into a normal reaction. you waited for her lips to part and ask 'why?', to ponder what your words truly meant.

instead, she laughed, as if the thought of dayeon hurting her was a part of some greco-roman comedy and not a tragedy.

harin let go of your arm, moving your hair out of your face as your eyebrows furrowed.

"so i'm guess you heard about my game as well?"

you nod. you had forgotten that those threats had stemmed from some game dayeon had mentioned.

a hierarchy game... a pyramid game.

"what do you think about it?" harin's eyes shone in a playful demeanor, full of curiosity and excitement. you couldn't fathom why or how she wasn't worried. "doesn't it sound fun?"

the air shifted around you as her irises seemed to blacken. a heavy burden settled on your chest as she face twitched into a smile, and you felt compelled - forced - to agree.

"it does," you chuckled awkwardly. "i guess."

a soft hum escaped her mouth, her eyes glancing at your face, taking in the fear that had shifted from dayeon to her. behind your eyes, she saw something... something exciting.

the heiress smiled.

"i hope you're in 'a' with me." you had no idea what she meant, but the thought of being near baek harin made the room spin. "it'll be lonely without you."

she stepped beside you, a gentle touch on your shoulder. her breath wafted close to your ear as she spoke with a stiff voice, one you wouldn't recognize as harin's.

"thanks for the heads up about dayeon." you shivered, a cool line shooting up your spine. "i'll deal with her."

she walked away as a deep pit in your stomach emerged.

deal with her?

you gripped your books tighter as you listened to the fading footsteps, and the soft "hello, can i speak to mr. kim? it's harin." in the distance.

you didn't know why, but somehow, you made the wrong decision.

you were never scared of blood.

it was a liquid that flowed inside you and every person's body, just like how water seeped from the sky and into the ground. blood was a natural process, nothing more and nothing less.

but when you saw that knife, drenched from your classmate's fresh wound...

you shivered at the thought, while harin's soft hands fiddled with a strand of your hair.

"do you feel bad for her?" harin's smile never disappeared, not since the game started. it didn't disappear when crimson dripped onto the floor, either. "woori?"

her lifeless eyes bore into yours, jolts of electricity and fire rising throughout your fingertips and cheeks. her hand, close enough to feel your breath, paused as the rest of harin's body stilled.

all of her stopped, as if so curious about your thoughts that each cell of hers had to still.

"you can be honest." her breath laced in nicotine once more, her perfume no longer covering the overwhelming scent. "i wanna know."

woori was an 'f'.

being an 'a' yourself, you had the right to torture her, to manipulate and ridicule her.

you never did, leaving it up to dayeon to do whatever she pleased with her. part of you still felt bad for what happened earlier in the year, and each time you blinked, you remembered the heavy-handed bruises left on dayeon's face the day after you had told harin about the library incident.

you understood woori, though. the mental toll it must've taken, being bullied throughout the day, months on end without another student looking your way. telling the teachers only resulted in a beating at best, and at worst...

your eyes clenched tightly as your brain replayed that video.

"a little..."

harin chuckled, pulling her hand away and fishing out a cigarette.

"you saw her cut jaeun up." harin muttered through her smoke, her delicate fingers wrapped around the golden band.

you remember the marble on the classroom floor stained red in a way that you didn't think it would.

blood wasn't scary. fear was.

"i did."

"and you still feel bad." harin inhaled, smoke leaving her nostrils as she looked you up and down. "interesting..."

as of late, harin had been smoking around you more and more often. whether it be behind the shed or simply just the two of you in the library, clouds of smoke seemed to follow her, and in turn, you.

the first time it had happened, you had coughed violently, taken off guard as the heiress smiled. your tears were exciting to her, much like your overwhelming sense of loyalty clashing with your morality.

she had never met anyone who was so inwardly conflicted.

"did she really drop out, harin-ah?"

harin blinked, standing up from her chair as she snubbed the end of her cig on some random book cover in front of her. she threw the smoke onto the floor, grinding it with her heel. her eyes were cold, and dark, and you knew that you had messed up again.

you didn't cough this time around. she had no reason to be mad.

the heiress gathered her belongings, sparing not a single glance your way.

"y/n?"

your heart skipped a beat.

"yeah?"

"my name's harin." she glanced at you, unamused. "don't call me that again."

seong suji.

the girl was nice, a little naive to the happenings of class 2-5. you could tell from a mile away that the girl wanted to stay low and let time pass its course, but you knew better than anyone that she had a target on her back.

everyone's attention had been on her from the moment whispers spread about a new girl transferring into the class. the moment she stepped into the room, you watched as harin's eyes lit up, and a fire blazed inside you.

you didn't know whether it was guilt or jealousy.

"are you stupid?" harin clenched her teeth as she hovered over you, her eyes hardening like coals under pressure. "telling the new girl about my game?"

suji didn't hear the predators hiding in the tall grass. she didn't see their eyes, nor did she notice their bloodlust-filled gazes, but she felt it, and there were only two people in her mind who seemed to lack the barbarity that lingered in the empty halls of the complex.

"look at me!"

your eyes snapped to harin's, anger exuding from her lips as puffs of smoke filled the air and ashes fell onto the ground.

you winced.

"harin..." you had never seen this side of her, not directed at you. you had always watched from the distance as opposed to being the target. "i just thought-"

"did you?" harin's lips curled in a way that could only be described as disbelief, your utter incompetence boggling her mind. "or are you just as stupid as your dropout brother?"

you winced, the low blow winding your self-esteem.

"she looked confused." you tried your best to reason with an iron wall. "i didn't want her to feel like-"

harin's eyes widened, and her usual curiosity morphed into an unfiltered rage.

"like who? woori? jaeun?" she exhaled another cloud, your face getting covered in smoke as you struggled to breath. "you're so fucking stupid."

you felt the heiress lean closer, the tip of the cigarette centimeters away from your cheek.

"i'm sorry."

"you're sorry?" harin could feel her blood boiling. everything was ruined. "i had a plan. you ruined it for me. you ruined my game, y/n."

you closed your eyes, trying to drown out the sharp words and the blanket of burden that harin enveloped you with.

you just wished harin would go back to being curious and playful, and leave you ignorant to the fact that deep down, she was the monster dayeon had implied many months ago.

with a weak voice, you tried to reason. "i didn't mean to..."

"you didn't-" harin backed away, ripping the smoke from her lips and into her fingertips. "give me your hand."

your eyes widened.

"harin-"

she grabbed your wrist with a surprising amount of strength. her nails dug into your arm, your teeth grinding together at the dull pain. the heat of the cigarette hovered over your palm as you struggled to pull back, and you couldn't help but choke out a strangled gasp.

"harin, wait-"

the smell of flesh burning invaded your senses as your arm shook from the pain. lightning seemed to replace your veins, as a fire replaced your blood. your vision fuzzed, the tears in your eyes falling down your chin.

harin glanced at you, a small smile replacing her grimace. you were always so pretty when you were in pain.

"remember this." she threw her smoke onto the ground, her grip on your wrist tightening. "you mess with my game, you upset me. you don't want that to happen again, do you?"

the last thing you wanted was to see harin frown in your direction.

"no."

harin smiled, glancing at how your lips quivered and how your eyes held an intoxicating mixture of fear and want. quietly, she wiped a tear with her free hand, chuckling as you flinched at her touch.

"then stay away from seong suji." she leaned in, her voice soft except for the threatening undertone. "if i see you even look at her without my permission, i'll make your life hell."

her grip loosened, harin's eyes softening as she looked at you with what seemed to be worry and understanding.

"i..." you blinked, agreeing like an obedient dog. even now, you couldn't help but wonder which harin was the real harin, but all you knew was that you didn't want to disappoint her. "i understand."

harin sighed, glancing at the burn in your hand with contempt. "i don't like doing this to you."

you paused, your face brightening as the smell of tobacco stuck to your blazer.

"you don't?"

harin smiled. it was like catching a mouse in a well placed trap. you were predictable and easy to please. a couple right words and you'd be under her spell all over again.

"you think i do?" the heiress frowned, biting her tongue.

she loved it.

"no..."

with a giggle, she took your wrist, much more gently than before.

"let's get you patched up."

harin liked putting on lipgloss around you.

she liked the way your eyes darted to her mouth for a split second before they looked anywhere else in the room. the redness of your cheeks delighted her in the sense that she knew that no matter what, you'd be stuck under her thumb.

you were her stupid, little puppet. your strings strong and unwavering, and your heart tainted with a loved one that you thought she didn't see.

it was adorable, like a puppy chasing its own tail, or a whale, no longer strong enough to go up for air.

harin liked to send you on mindless errands.

it was a good way to keep you in check, much better than instilling fear. she could sense that someone like you liked to feel needed, even if it's something as simple as fetching her more of her favorite brand of smokes or picking up items that she used for bribery.

it gave her a good laugh when you would come back, beaming as if you accomplished something when in reality, one of her maids could have easily done the same.

you were none the wiser, currently on your way to getting her more coffee (well, to get doah coffee per harin's demand).

you were just about to leave the campus, but a strong yet gentle hand yanked you aside, dragging you out of sight from the windows of the complex.

"sorry, y/n-ah."

you tried to shake her off, but she was too strong.

"jaeun, let go." why was she doing this? more importantly, why was she taking you to the nearby convenience store. "i can't be talking to you. you know that."

jaeun stopped, and you thought that she had finally gotten tired of you complaining so much. instead, you looked at the scene in front of you, two girls sitting in the shade of a foldable umbrella.

harin was gonna burn you alive.

"harin's pet?" jaehyeong shook her head, staring at the taller girl beside you. "jaeun-ie, are you sick? do you have a fever?"

you frowned. you weren't 'harin's pet'. so what if you liked being around her?

"she's nice." jaeun muttered, ushering you to the other girls. you tried to turn away, but she moved you in such a way that you couldn't escape. "she helped suji out."

"that was a mistake."

suji raised an eyebrow. she didn't know what was wrong with you. how could someone change so much in a matter of two months?

her eyes wandered your figure, stopping at the burns that littered your right hand.

oh. that makes sense.

"hey, y/n-ah."

"yerim?" you turned around, your jaw hanging open as the trainee sat with the girls, sipping on a can of coffee. you glanced at her phone, watching as she scrolled through eunjeong's instagram. "what the hell is going on?"

you looked around, their eyes glancing at suji with hesitation.

"you're not gonna convince her, suji." yerim shook her head.

being in rank 'a' herself, she knew firsthand how you followed every word harin said. she could tell from a mile away what it was, yerim herself victim to the feeling with a certain swimmer.

but there was a difference between the two of you, one that could prove to be detrimental.

you needed someone to follow, while she didn't.

"i can." suji glanced at your hand again. "i know i can."

"convince me?"

you felt a lump in your throat, praying that somehow, in some way, harin would come barging in and save you from whatever was going on here.

you took a deep breath, and sensing danger was near, gripped your wrist for safety.

jaeun frowned.

"i was serious about bringing down the game, y/n."

the pyramid game.

that stupid game that harin focused all her energy into, hellbent on keeping the perfect hierarchy intact. the one where you watched your classmates get beaten to a pulp, bloody and broken to the point of mental disarray.

you had never spoken it out loud, but you were tired of it, watching everyone you know either do the hurting or get hurt (most times both).

but this was harin's game, and you'd rather hurt yourself than upset the girl you loved.

"harin'll be pissed."

yerim chuckled, a knowing smile on her face. she didn't expect anything less from you.

"aren't you?" suji glanced at your hand, one you held for dear life, as if you were afraid it would get burned again. "after everything you've done for her, she still burns you."

you frowned.

harin did it with good reason. she needed to keep you in line, to keep you from lashing out. she did this to you because, unlike wooyi or dayeon, she trusted you enough to understand.

harin did it out of the pureness of her heart.

"that was an accident."

"an accident?" suji could feel your doubt starting to seep through. that was enough for her, to see the light beyond the cracks of your love. "hurting you multiple times the same way was an accident?"

was it an accident? it had to be, otherwise, harin was just hurting you to hurt you.

you shook the thought out of your head, missing the way the girls looked at each other, satisfied.

"what do you want, seong suji?"

there was a beat in the air.

"join us."

she knew. how did she know?

"no, i just..."

you liked harin, even when she suffocated you with her smoke, staining your white shirt with the ash of her cigarettes. her eyes wandered yours routinely, and it felt as if she was trying to dig deep as if she needed you.

"i figured out a way to get to them."

harin's eyes sparkled. she would have never thought that you, docile and timid, would ever think of something other than her and school.

it was... exhilarating.

"sim eunjeong." you rattled out a breath, your eyes clenching at the very thought of what you were doing. "yerim... likes her more than we think."

the heiress laughed, the excitement in her chest bursting at the thought of you ignoring your morals just to please her and only her.

she leaned close to you, her face in front of yours as she moved a single lock of hair behind your ear. shivers ran up your spine.

"do you feel bad, y/n-ah?" harin hadn't felt this happy in a while. "ratting them out to me must be so heavy on your consciousness."

she looked you up and down, your eyes avoiding hers. your cheeks were tinged in red, and the guilt written all over your face didn't help the giddiness that was starting to overtake her.

"you're fun, y/n."

you'd do anything for her, even when she hurt you. even when everyone screamed and yelled at you to leave, ignoring the bright red stop signs.

"i like you."

> main masterlist.

[crossfandomslut]

At Peace in Your Fire (pt2)

Summary: Y/n goes into the the Cauldron, and ends up in Velaris. A strange place with a sentient house and hopefully some new friends. Y/n much navigate what being fae means for her now.

Pairing: Future Eris x Reader ! Eris is in this chapter y'all! It's not much haha I'm dragging it out !

Word Count: 4,900

Notes: I'm so glad people liked the first chapter and I hope you stick with me to see where this story goes ! I wanted to get to know the reader a bit more, and have interactions with the other characters to add depth to the story and who the reader is so that she's not just some rando haha Please comment your thoughts and opinions, I love hearing what you liked about it so I can try to make each chapter better than the last ! Hugs <3

Find part 1 here

Her life flashed before her eyes as the Cauldron scanned through her every memory, as if in search of an answer, but she didn’t know what the question was. All she felt was cold. As the Cauldron raked through images of their mother and her neglect as Feyre and Y/n did whatever they could to get her attention. Even if she was yelling at them, it was better than being ignored. It took Y/n a long time to realize that Nesta wasn’t ‘lucky’ for having all their mothers’ attention. The cold continued to settle into her bones as she watched her mother get sick and their father fall deep into depression after losing his fortune. Flashes of what she had to do with the baker’s son to feed the family some weeks, of Feyre being taken away by Tamlin, of Nesta looking so hopeless as they searched for their sister, and finally of tonight, being taken from their home in the night, the pain of her sister’s faces and the fear that shot through her as her toes touched the Cauldron’s edge. Deeper and deeper the water soaked through her too thin nightgown, into her skin, and settled in her bones. the water the warm when she first touched it, but as she felt herself drift further toward the bottom, an icy cold took over her senses.

At last, a flicker of warmth ran through her as memories played of watching Feyre, Nesta, and Elain try to fit into the too small bed of the cabin as Y/n curled up right in front of the fireplace, laughing at her sisters bickering for space and urging Nesta to move her cold feet away from them. Eventually, her sisters stopped bickering and they too started laughing. Those were the glowing moments of joy they were able to find in the darkest times. The warmth in her body spread as the next memory played; the four of them dancing around a bonfire in the late Summer, early Autumn. Laughing and dancing like idiots because Y/n was able to convince the baker’s son to sneak her a cake. They hadn’t had a real cake, with icing and candles, in years, but she had seen it through the window and knew she needed to share it with her dearest sisters. The leaves were just starting to change color and the warm fire light casted the already orange and red leaves in the most stunning light.

The last memory that played was the night that Nesta brought home paints for Feyre. In the low light of the evening fire, Y/n begrudgingly gave up her spot directly in front of the flame so that Feyre had the best light to paint in. She painted their tiny dresser drawers with something to symbolize each of them. Nesta had her own dresser, full of the beautiful-and large-dresses their mother used to make her wear. Nesta requested her dresser be painted black. Simple, but a bold sentiment. Y/n’s drawer, of course, was painted with flames. It was a well known fact to everyone who met her that Y/n was drawn to the heat and comfort of fire. Sweet Elain’s drawer was painted in the flowers she loved to tend in the rather pathetic gardens. And for a reason she didn’t understand at the time, Feyre painted her drawer with the night sky. Dazzling stars and a bright moon to look down on her wherever she may be.

Y/n’s chest started to glow at that memory and finally she felt warm again, seeing that dingy old cabin, that fireplace lit, and the lives it made brighter, warmer, safer.

A sudden rush of the Cauldron’s freezing water had Y/n gasping for air that was no where to be found. She wasn’t drowning, but she wasn’t breathing either. She was stuck in this terrible, dark, cold place and feeling like all was lost. So, she spoke into the void, “you may take my body and soul, as long as you promise to watch over my sisters. Keep them safe and happy and whole.”

“Your eldest sister took something from me. Something very dark and very important. You are in no position to make a bargain for her safety.” The voice came as a harsh whisper that sounded like death itself. “I will get back what she took, and more, but I haven’t met a being a very long time who was willing to give. For that, I will reward you. What gift I have bestowed upon you, you must find out for yourself. It will either breathe life into what you love most… or suffocate it.”

With those final words spoken straight into her heart, Y/n felt the world shift as she was dumped from the Cauldron, back onto the ice-cold stone floor, soaking wet. The King of Hybern’s magic lifts just enough for Feyre to rush to her and cling to her like life depended on it.

The following events at Hybern will be scarred into Y/n mind for the rest of her newly immortal life. Lucien's painful screaming that Elain was his mate, the human queen going into the Cauldron and coming out old and decrepit because of what Nesta stole from it, Tamlin demanding that the King break the bond between Feyre and Rhysand, and Feyre saying that Rhys had her under a spell all this time.

If it weren’t for their relationship as twins seeming to strengthen now that they were both Fae, and for Feyre’s daemati powers, Y/n would have freaked the fuck out. Lucky for them all, Feyre explained the whole plan, albeit almost too rapidly for Y/n to understand given what she just went through in the Cauldron. Y/n played along and acted disgusted by Rhys and horrified as he winnowed her away. The cry of her sister's name was not forced or faked.

When they landed in what she could only assume was the Night Court, a beautiful female with eerie silver eyes and black hair came rushing around the corner. “Where is she?”

Rhysand explained everything. Only after calling for his best healers to help Cassian and Azriel. By the time he finished, Mor appeared after hiding Y/n's sisters away somewhere that they could rest and process.

“She is your mate, not your spy. Go. Get. Her.” The one with silver eyes, Amren, demanded.

“She is my mate. And my spy. And she is the High Lady of the Night Court.” Rhysand said softer, but not weakly.

“What?” Mor gasped.

Rhysand explained it all, and finally said, “Your High Lady made a sacrifice for her court, and we will move when the time is right.”

“Until then?” Amren asked sharply.

“Until then,” Rhysand spared each of them a glace, “we go to war.”

Mor showed Y/n to her room, told her to ask the house for whatever she needed, and that she should rest for as long as she needed. And that they were all here for her when she was ready to come out.

The first thing Y/n asked the house for was a fire to be lit. She was ready to get on her knees and beg for the heat of it, but when the house responded immediately, Y/n let out a sob and threw herself on the floor in front of the large hearth. She sat with her legs tucked under her, staring into the dancing flames as tears streamed down her face and choked sobs rocked her body. She stared into the blaze. Fire, she thinks, looks alive but is not. It dances and sways in the phantom wind and dries the tears that had long stopped coming. Y/n wished she could climb straight into the inferno and wrap it around herself to make her bed. For a moment she wonders if her new Fae body would allow such a thing, before she grabs a plush red dyed wool blanket, and a soft enough throw pillow from the couch, and she curls up in front of the glowing heat and sparkling embers. Right where she feels the safest and most at home.

Y/n slept off and on for four days if she’s been keeping track of time correctly. The house delivered food, that at first, she was hesitant to touch, because what does a house know about cooking? But once she got hungry enough to try the steaming soup and heavily buttered bread it delivered for dinner on night two, she ate her words. Literally. The house quickly learned that Y/n preferred black tea and something sweet to eat at breakfast, something light and fresh for lunch, and a hearty dense dinner. The fire had remained lit since the first night, when the house thought it would be okay to let it die out once Y/n fell asleep, and Y/n woke up screaming and shaking, nightmares plaguing her. The fire had not gone out again. Not even a flicker.

Y/n was feeling rested and eager to learn if there were any updates about her twin in the Spring Court. She needed to know if Feyre was okay. When she swung the door of her bedroom open, Rhysand was standing there, smirking, looking like he knew every thought in her head.

“I’ll need to teach you about mental shields.” His smirk grew, “you’re just as bad as Feyre was when she first got here, practically shouting your thoughts. I could probably hear you from the house of wind.”

Y/n blinked at him. Sure, she knew that Feyre’s daemati powers allowed her to speak into people’s minds, but to just openly heard other’s thoughts? How miserable that must be.

Rhysand gaped for a fraction of a second after hearing her thoughts, before his brows furrowed. “You- you’re not angry or afraid about the invasion of privacy?”

“I mean, would I prefer you not listen? Sure, but you just said you’d teach me to block you out, so really, I just feel bad for you both. I never want to know what’s going through other’s heads. That’s their business and it probably gets gross and annoying.”

There’s a silent pause before Rhysand throws his back and laughs, “It does get gross, and annoying,” He straightens again and says, "thank you, Y/n. Not many understand that or think about how it feels for us.”

“So then you probably already know that I was about to come find you and ask about Feyre?”

“Yes. Let’s talk about it once you’ve had a bath and change into clean clothes. Have you been sleeping and living in that for four days?” He eyes her absolutely filthy, no longer white, nightgown that she had been wearing when the Hybern soldiers took her.

“Yes. Yes, I have, Rhysand. But I will take that bath and clean clothes. I smell like the deer I killed the day we first met.” Y/n’s face scrunched at the memory of the stench that she never got used to, even after all those years of hunting with Feyre. “I’d say I would come find you, but you’ll probably know exactly when I’m ready.” She winked and tapped her finger to her temple before turning on her heel back into her room. The house must have been listening, because a hot bath was waiting for her in the bathing chambers. Soaps and oils that smelled like pine and cedar, a crackling fire, and the forest after it rains. Y/n had never smelt anything so lavish. Never smelt anything that captured the feeling of home so thoroughly.

Ridding herself of the disgusting nightgown, Y/n went to dip a toe in the steaming water and stopped. It felt so much like the Cauldron. But Y/n, like always, reminded herself to be adaptable. She was fine. This room was nothing like that place. This place had bright windows that lit up the room. She could see the bottom of the tub, nothing like the dark mirky waters she was forced into. She was fine and she was safe. Y/n prided herself on being able to choke her feelings down. She thought that if she could intellectualize her feelings, they wouldn’t be able to control her. It hadn't come to bite her in the ass yet. She calmed her racing heart, and plunged into the hot water and washed herself clean of the memories using the soaps that smelled like home. Those smells soothed her soul like a balm and she started to feel like herself again.

After taking her merry time in the tub, the house keeping the water hot as long as she needed it, Y/n stood and grabbed a towel from the vanity in the corner of the room. Y/n hadn’t looked at herself in the mirror yet, but figured now was as good of a time as any. She sat on the round cushioned stool and slowly lifted her head. She tilted her head back and forth, examining the subtle changes that suddenly made her Fae. She tucked her hair behind her ears to reveal the exaggerated, but soft, pointed ears. Smiled at herself to get a look at the elongated canines, and noticed how bright and sharp her eyes looked. She didn’t have her twin’s steely blue eyes, her father said she had his mother’s eyes. Y/n looked into her own y/e/c eyes and just blinked a few times. She was most definitely Fae now. And she would adapt.

Getting dressed quickly, Y/n stepped into the hall to find Rhysand, already waiting for her. He examined her loose, flowy brown pants, and the soft grey seater she chose. “No Night Court black?”

She tripped over her own foot at the words, “oh- oh no, I’m sorry, I’ve offended you. I’ll go change-!

“No! No, Y/n stop,” he gently griped her arm to prevent her from running back in her room. “It didn’t even occur to me that you might feel comfortable in something else. I’m the one who’s sorry.” He tilts his head, so their eyes meet.

“I just feel better in colors that remind me of the woods we grew up in. It makes me feel like myself in their new, strange body and this new world we’ve been brought into. I did not have any intention of disrespecting you or your home, Rhysand.”

“Please, Y/n, call me Rhys. We are family now, right? Humans would call us, ‘in-laws’?” His smile grew as Y/n’s lips twitched into their own smile, his hand dropping from her arm.

“Of course, Rhys. I’m glad to know my sister has found someone who loves her so well. I look forward to getting to know you as we work to bring Feyre home.”

“Yes, let’s get to work on that. Follow me.” Rhys guides her down the hall and through the foyer into a large seating area. Mor, Cassian, Azriel and Amren are all speaking lowly. Rhys clears his throat as he and Y/n enter the room, and all eyes fall on Y/n. More is the first to stand up and wrap her in a tight embrace. Y/n is shocked for a brief moment, before wrapping her arms around Mor in return.

Mor pulls back with tears in her eyes to say, “we love your sister so much. We are honored to have you in our family too. We will get her back.” Y/n smiles at her fondly and Mor turns to sit back down next to Cassian. Cassian and Azriel both smile and wave at her, just like they did the first time they met in the human lands. Amren and Y/n exchange nods, and Y/n predicts that is the most emotion she’ll ever see from the female.

Rhys is the first to speak next. “Let’s get started shall we?” He took a seat in the remaining armchair, and Y/n took up a spot on the floor, directly in front of the fireplace. Her favorite place to be. “Y/n, you don’t have to sit on the floor. We can ask the house to provide another chair.”

“I’m perfectly content right here, but thank you, Rhys,” Y/n went as far as to shuffle further back toward the heat.

Azriel’s usually calculated expression fell as he stared at her in total confusion. Never had he seen someone look like they wanted to be consumed by flames. He couldn’t even comprehend it. He schooled his features when he felt Cassian pop him in the ribs with his elbow and clear this throat.

“As you wish. Azriel, I know you’re still recovering, and I do not want you to push it, but have your shadows told you anything?”

“Not much. Feyre is still hardly allowed to leave the house, Lucien is still warry of her, and Tamlin is none the wiser. She isn’t eating enough.” He says the last part so quietly and with so much anger, a shiver runs down Y/n spine. She decides to never get on Azriel’s bad side.

“Have you heard from her? Can’t you two talk through your minds or something?” Cassian asks.

“Not much. We don’t want Tamlin, or Lucien for that matter, to get suspicious. But when we do speak, she sounds so far away and it’s an effort to keep the line open. Something isn’t right, but I don’t know what it is. When she was in Spring before it wasn’t this hard. It has to be Hybern’s presence there.”

“So all we can do is sit around and wait for more information?” Mor asks incredulously.

“I wish it could say otherwise, but for now, yes. Azriel and Cassian, you need to heal and get back to training, so we’re prepared when something changes and we have to move.” They call nod their agreement and accept that it’s all they can do right now.

“I want to train too.” Y/n’s voice startles them, as if they forgot she was there.

“Of course, we’ll work on your mental shields and-“

“No- I’m sorry- I don’t mean to interrupt. I mean, yes, I do want to train with you to build my mental shield, but I also want to train with Cassian and Azriel. I want to feel strong. I want to be strong. I never want what happened in Hybern to happen again. I never want to feel helpless like that and I want to help my sister.” Y/n was firm and confident when she locked eyes with Rhys, even as tears welled in her waterline.

“Okay. Whatever you need, we’ll do it.” Rhys looked at her like he could see right through her. To the scared little girl who lost her mother, who had to learn to hunt and steal and sell her body for godsdamned bread. She had never felt so vulnerable, and she quickly broke the stare.

“Are you okay with that?” Y/n asked Cassian and Azriel.

“Yes.” “Of course.” They replies in unison.

“Thank you.”

The day turned into evening and the group is still sitting around the tiny coffee table in that grand living room. Just relaxing in each other’s presence and sharing stories with Y/n, learning more about her. “Everyone thinks that the fire painted on the drawer was for Nesta because she is so fierce, but it’s not true,” Y/n chuckles fondly as she thinks of her sharp tongued eldest sister. “I have always been drawn to the flames. Even as a baby, my parents had to keep candles far away from me.” That gets a laugh from everyone in the room. Even Amren lets out a short breath that could be considered a laugh.

“So which one was Nesta’s? Don’t tell me it was the flowers,” Cassian asked. You could tell he was attached to her, even though they had only a few brief interactions and Nesta was far less than pleasant.

“Nesta had her own full wardrobe, painted black and full of dresses our mother stuffed her into when she gave her those awful etiquette lessons.” Y/n shuddered at the memory. And then paused, just now realizing that she had no idea where her sisters were. Her heart started racing and her eyes shot to Rhys’s, knowing he had already heard every thought.

“They’re safe. They aren’t adapting as well as you are, but they’re safe and they’re okay. I promise you; I will not let anything happen to them.” Y/n laughed internally as that word. Adapting. It’s what she was best at she supposed.

Weeks had passed and Y/n had been dedicated to training with Cassian and Azriel at least once every day, sometimes twice if her energy is pent up enough. And she has a lesson with Rhys everyday too. She’s learning to read, and her mental shield is solid. Her body had never felt so strong. It was a real hit to her ego though to learn that she had been carrying her body weight wrong and lifting deer over her shoulders incorrectly her whole life. Training with Azriel was calmer than training with Cassian. Azriel moved with so much grace and control and was making you learn all the movements and balance exercises. Cassian was intense. Teaching you how to move swiftly to block and avoid kicks and punches. The fact that was going easy on you was an even bigger hit to your ego.

On this particular day, Y/n trained with Azriel in the morning, noticing how much more balanced her body felt, could isolate muscles and utilize them. After lunch was her lesson with Rhys. She’s able to push him out of her mind now, still with some effort, but she doesn’t break out in a sweat now. She spent the afternoon resting and reading when Cassian stormed into the library and asked if she wanted to train. That brought them to the training area on the townhouse. Cassian complains that it isn’t as big as the one at the house of wind, but it did the job. Cassian had just gotten back from visiting the house of wind and he was angry. He was throwing punches and seeming to forget who he was sparring with. He was moving too fast and punching too hard, but Y/n couldn’t seem to get the words out to tell him to stop. He advanced forward and as she backed up, she stumbled, allowing Cassian to land a punch straight to her jaw. Her head rattled but before she could even register the pain, she yelled, teeth bared and fists clenched to her side, “ENOUGH CASSIAN!”

The world stopped, and after two, three, four heartbeats she realized Cassian wasn’t breathing. He was staring at her as his eyes went wide and he grabbed his throat. He crashed to his knees and reached for her hands. Releasing her tight grip on her own fists, air rushed back into Cassian’s lung. He gasped for breath as Y/n fell to her knees too and let out a sob. “I am so sorry Cassian. I am so so sorry; I don’t know what happened. I’m so sorry.” She somehow managed to get the words out between sobs and gasping for air.

“Y/n, Y/n it’s okay! I’m the one who’s sorry. I can’t believe I hit you, I am so sorry Y/n. Please, look at me, I need you to breathe. I’m okay. I’m sorry.” He held her and rocked her back and forth until her heartbeat slowed to a normal pace and she could lift her head to look at him. “Shit. Rhys is going to kill me when he sees that bruise on your face. Mor might beat him to it though. I’m so sorry.”

Y/n stands up and walks to the bathing room down the hall. Cassian ran to her when he heard her start…laughing? The picture in front of him as he skidded around the corner was one he could never have predicted. Y/n was clutching her stomach, leaning over the sink and laughing hysterically at her reflection. Cassian had punched her so hard that the bruising started at her jaw and gave her a black eye. Cassian was horrified, but Y/n just kept laughing, so eventually, he did too. Mor, Rhys, and Azriel came running around the corner too, wondering what the commotion was about. When they saw Y/n face, a collective, “what the fuck Cass?” Was sounded by the other three Fae. This made Y/n and Cassian double down and laugh even harder.

When they caught their breath again, Cassian stood up proudly, patted Y/n on the back and said, “I helped Y/n discover her powers today. No big deal,” he said with no small amount of smugness.

“You mean you needed a punching bag and I had to defend myself?” Y/n quirked a brow at him.

“Semantics!” He argued.

“Wait wait wait, Y/n has powers?” Rhys’s eyes went hazy as he mentally called for Amren. “Tell me everything.”

Y/n recounted the events of their fight and how she literally took his breath away. She didn’t know she was controlling any magic; she hadn’t felt it rise up, but it must have subconsciously come to her defense.

“You’re going to have to drop down to one lesson with Cass and Az a day and pick up an extra with me and Amren. We need to learn more about this power. Power gifted by the Cauldron itself is new territory for all of us. We don’t know what the boundaries of your power are.” The sudden seriousness in Rhys’s face felt sobering as Y/n and Cassian were pulled out of their laughter and back into the reality of who and what Y/n was. Cauldron made.

Another few weeks passed of training non-stop. The magic was a lot harder for Y/n to figure out than the fighting. As of today, she can suck the air out of a room that’s about 12ft by 12ft and hold it for five minutes before faltering, and she can send a blast of air and knock Cassian over from 30ft away. Cassian was used as the dummy for both tests as an apology for decking her in the face.

Y/n was in the middle of her reading lesson for the day when Azriel came crashing into the room. “We found her. Feyre got out of Spring; we have to get her. We need your help and your magic.”

She was up in an instant. She didn’t care that she wasn’t in fighting leathers, she just needed to get to her sister. Before she had a chance to ask any questions, Azriel grabbed her and jumped from the balcony. Y/n hadn’t flown before. Never wanted to be a burden to the Illyrians. But wow, what an experience. Azriel quickly caught up to Cassian and the three of them flew swiftly and precisely.

“Where are we going?” Y/n noticed the moment they left Velaris and the landscape changed to an icy tundra. She missed the heat and comfort of her spot in front of the fireplace in the library already.

“The Winter Court. I’m sorry there wasn’t time to get you in warmer clothes. I know you have a hard time with the cold. I should have prepared you.” Azriel felt terrible, but Feyre needed them. Y/n would adapt.

“It’s okay, Az. Feyre is more important. I’m okay,” and she meant it.

The touchdown was quick. Not a lot of time to slow down and land gently. The Illyrians landed and shook the ground. Azriel was softer about letting Y/n down. Before her was quite possibly her worst nightmare unfolding. Her twin sister, her favorite person in the entire world, was being restrained by the thing that brought her the most peace. A strange male was standing above her sister, using his gift of fire to hold her at her wrists and her neck. Y/n was frozen in place. Her mind went blank as her body was slammed with fear and disgust at the gross misuse of the flames licking at her sister’s throat. It felt like a violation to her very core. Her very soul was raging at the sight. Not only for her sister being in danger, but because of the way the male was using the thing Y/n held closest to her heart and found the most precious, as a weapon to do harm.

“Y/n! Y/n!” She was thrust back into reality by Cassian’s large hands shaking her back to consciousness. She blinked at him a few times before looking over his shoulder to see Azriel already taking down the other red-headed males and saving another. Lucien. Lucien was on Feyre’s side? Blinking again and trying to remain present, she and Cassian turned to the male holding Feyre. “Now, Y/n.”

With those two words form Cassian, Y/n approached the male, and he had the audacity to laugh at her. Granted, she was still in her house slippers, baggy linen pants and oversized sweater, so she wasn’t looking her most intimidating. But he quickly stopped laughing as Y/n lifted her hands above her head, closed her fists, and threw her hands down to her side. It didn’t take long for the male to realize that he could no longer take a breath. So focused on clawing at his throat, he didn’t notice that his flames had no oxygen to restrain his hostage either. Cassian, being well versed in her magic, ran into the void she’d created, grabbed Feyre, who unfortunately also couldn’t breathe, and got her out of your field of magic. Azriel was there with Lucien in a second, Mor winnowing in to grab Y/n, Cassian, and Feyre.

They landed in the townhouse seconds later, Azriel and Lucien not far behind. Y/n was in her sister’s arms before anyone could blink. They held each other tightly, but Feyre looked over Y/n shoulder to Mor.

“He’s on his way. He’s far away, but he is rushing home to you as fast as he can. He felt the bond and sent us ahead to get you.” Mor was crying too, and Y/n turned to wave her into their hug. Right now, her sister was home and everything else could wait for tomorrow. Even if Y/n couldn't stop thinking about that red haired male on the frozen lake today. the way he laughed at her and made her feel small, and she sucked the air from his lungs like it was nothing. She thought it would have made her feel good. but it didn't, and she wasn't sure why. She would fall asleep picturing his fearful face for many nights.

Taglist: @abysshaven @minaethrym @ivy-34 @stained-glass-eyes0708

[serverusslaype]

The Yule Ball, pt. 1

Severus Snape x professor!reader

omg wow two posts in one day? who am i?

i also wanted to post this because i asked about it a while ago lmao, but i'm going to split it into two parts and finish the end of the second part tomorrow after work, it's mostly done, i just need to tidy it up hehe. this isn't very long, however, in part two, it gets good of course. pls don't hate me :( </3

i hope you are all doing well!! :)

warnings: slight harassment? ew, karkaroff

The atmosphere in the Great Hall was sparkling and lively as loud laughter and chatter filled the wintry and festively decorated room. Several large round tables were dotted around the sides of it, laden with beautiful white centrepieces and matching silver cutlery and glittering glassware. Long, blue-grey curtains adorned with artifical snow hung from the walls between the majestic and mythical stone statues, as if imitating frozen waterfalls. A warm and fuzzy feeling settled in your body as you glanced around the gorgeously decorated Hall, a small smile finding your cherry-red painted lips. 

You sat alone at a table in a silky, backless, long-sleeved dress with only a goblet of wine for company as you watched students and teachers alike dance joyously on the floor to a melodious tune. You had to bite back an amused grin as your eyes caught sight of Hagrid's hand slipping down to Madame Maxine's rear. She quickly swatted it away, and you couldn't help but chuckle quietly to yourself. Ever since the international schools arrived at Hogwarts, Hagrid seemed to be smitten with the enormous witch, and you could see why. Madame Maxine was stunning and classy; always dressed in the finest attire you could ever imagine - and of course, always carried herself with elegance. You envied her slightly as you watched the pair sway sweetly together.

Speaking of the international schools, a certain Headmaster had taken a liking to you during their stay and Hogwarts, and it didn't please you at all. In fact, it made you rather uncomfortable. Well, he made you uncomfortable. You shivered slightly at the thought of Igor Karkaroff and lifted your goblet of wine to your lips, downing the rest of it carelessly. You'd been avoiding him all night, and you hoped you wouldn't have to speak to him for the rest of it. 

As you placed the goblet back down, you glanced around, catching sight of Minerva stood to the right of Dumbledore and Snape who were currently observing the dancing students. Though you were looking at the older witch, your eyes were magnetically pulled to the wizard dressed in all black - surprisingly without his signature cloak.

Professor Snape.

You'd spoken to him a few times, but not many - he wasn't the most welcoming man you'd met. In fact, he was rather cold and short with you, which wasn't too unsurprising since he'd taught you back in the day when you attended Hogwarts as a student. So, you knew exactly what he was like. In those days, despite his harsh and cruel attitude towards you and your classmates, you developed a silly little crush on him. You weren't exactly sure why - perhaps it was the mysterious aura that he possessed, or his deep, sultry and silky voice he spoke with, or maybe it was just the plain simple fact that he was... attractive to you. Gods, your classmates would have disowned you, had you admitted such a thing.

Regardless of your history here, being the youngest professor here was a little intimidating to say the least, and the need to prove yourself was overwhelming. At times, you felt as if you didn't deserve your post as the professor of Astronomy - how could a twenty-something-year-old be qualified enough to teach students less than ten years their junior? Doubting yourself was bound to happen, especially in the presence of such talented, wise wizards like Dumbledore, Flitwick and McGonagall - Flitwick was a duelling champion, for goodness sake. And what were you? Merely infatuated with the nightsky and everything that possibly dwells beyond it? Merlin.

A deflated sigh swiftly fell from your lips as you quickly stood up from your seat, beginning to reluctantly head over in the direction of your fellow colleagues. It's not like you didn't want to stand with them, you just felt awfully out of place, and you didn't want to look weird by sitting all by your lonesome all night. Being the new person at the new job was never fun.

As you neared them, your eyes were drawn to the gloomy Potions Master again. As if he could sense someone watching him, his deep black eyes flicked to you, and you quickly glanced away with burning cheeks, walking forwards to stop beside Minerva. Maybe your crush never went away, and you winced slightly at the thought.

Turning to Minerva, she looked at you with happy eyes, a smile gracing her lips. "Y/N," Minerva beamed, her shoulders relaxing in a cheerful manner, "we'd wondered where you'd disappeared off to."

You hummed happily at her words, your stiff body relaxing slightly. McGonagall had been your favourite professor when you'd studied at Hogwarts, even though you didn't exactly excel in her class of Transfiguration. She never berated you for your lack of skill in the subject and that was probably what solidified your preference.

You looked at the witch beside you, though a silhouette of a prominent nose and a mop of black hair clouded your vision. "Just needed a sit down, really." You replied with a soft voice, smiling as you linked your fingers together in front of your waist. "Also, I fancied some more wine, it's rather moreish." Minerva and Dumbledore chuckled at your light-hearted joke, but Snape did not. You swallowed awkwardly.

"Perhaps it isn't wise to be drinking in the presence of students, Professor L/N." Snape drawled in a demeaning tone from beside Dumbledore, side-eyeing you.

"What makes you think I'm going to get drunk?" You frowned, his subtle dig at you twisting your insides. Crush or not, he was getting under your skin.

Snape snorted slightly, "A history of misbehaviour at Hogwarts doesn't bode well." He said, turning his head to face you. You fought the itching urge to roll your eyes at his words, remembering that one time you had pranked his class.

"That was one time, Snape." You sighed, fighting hard not to groan. Apparently, he wasn't going to let this go. "And it was years ago now."

"I wouldn't want to take any chances." He sneered at you, and your stomach twisted horribly. Did he really despise you that much? It hurt to say the least, you thought he would've put that in the past and moved on, but apparently grudges are the next best thing.

"Right." You huffed quietly, and Minerva cast an awkward glance to Dumbledore who also looked rather uncomfortable. Yes, this was a terrible idea coming to stand with your colleagues. A fucking terrible idea. Snape always had to make you look childish. Suddenly, you pathetically wished that Karkaroff would suddenly appear and bother you so you wouldn't have to deal with this awful interaction. Anything would be better than this right now.

As if on cue, someone called your name. "Would you excuse me?" You sighed, casting an apologetic smile towards Dumbledore and McGonagall, purposefully ignoring Snape. Dumbledore also excused himself, leaving only the Heads of Slythering and Gryffindor together.

As you and Dumbledore walked off, Minerva turned to Snape with scornful eyes. "You shouldn't be so harsh on her, Severus," she huffed, "she's not a child anymore. Y/N is an adult, capable of making adult decisions. There's no need for such hostility." 

Snape didn't reply, he only sighed heavily at Minerva's comment, prompting the older witch to roll her eyes at his petty behaviour. Though, underneath his cold and dismissive attitude towards you, there was something else. Something he did not want to unfold, nor understand. It wasn't a familiar feeling, and that was what worried him. And so, each time you spoke to him or looked at him, he had chosen to push that feeling away by being malicious to you. Snape wasn't fond of it, and he did resent himself slightly by acting so horribly towards you. Something inside of him tugged at his heart each time your face fell due to his sharp words, or the way he'd glare at you whenever you looked at him. It was the only thing he knew. Snape wasn't familiar with nor welcoming to feelings other than hatred or disdain.

The Potions Master cast his eyes over the crowds of students, absent-mindedly looking for your small figure. It's not like he wanted to check on you, he just wanted to see who had called for you, out of... curiosity. And there you were, chatting with the Weasley twins. Snape couldn't remember your exact age, but he was sure you were mid-twenties, perhaps early-twenties. Your youthful face and essence said so. As he observed you, his chest burned unusually as you laughed at something the twins had said, and it burned even hotter when he saw them hand you something. What were they doing?

"It's just a little something," Fred grinned goofily in his tuxedo as you held a small, neatly-wrapped box in your hands. It was a pale red, with a shining green bow. You looked up at them and smiled gratefully.

"Yeah, we just wanted to say thanks for being a brilliant teacher," George added after his brother, making you grin amused. The two of them always made you laugh in your classes, it was like they were the same person from how well they bounced off of each other.

"Oh, thank you, boys," you grinned, a little shocked at their kindness, "you didn't need to get me anything." Both Fred and George grinned together, their fluffy ginger hair bouncing a tad as they glanced at each other.

"You're our favourite, you know," George said, and Fred nodded with him, beaming. You chuckled at their silly smiles.

"Yeah, you're a thousand times better than any of the other professors," Fred agreed cheerfully, folding his arms against his chest.

"Especially Snape-" George interjected. Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of his name.

"Yeah, he's a right old miserable git, he is." Fred grumbled, nodding behind you. "He's staring right at us, too." Your stomach dropped the second Fred said those words, and you quickly whipped your head around, your eyes meeting with Snape's own fierce ones. As quickly as you looked at him, you turned back around, your face becoming hot and pink.

"Are you blushing, professor?" George grinned wickedly, glancing at his brother who also shared that same expression.

 "No!" You answered quickly, gasping.

"Don't tell me you like that horrible arse," Fred laughed, his eyebrows shooting upwards.

"I wouldn't have expected you to fancy a Slytherin like him." George frowned, his nose turning up in slight disgust. "I mean, he hates everything and everyone, why would you-"

"I never even said I liked him! You two just assumed so!" You scoffed, folding your arms against your chest. The twins laughed at your reaction, glancing at each other. "Anyway, boys, thank you for the gift, but this conversation is over." Another hefty sigh fell from your lips as you looked between the two of them, smiling politely.

"Professor L/N," A raspy, deep voice came from behind you, and instantly, your blood went cold. You knew that thick accent very well. Fred and George Weasley looked like they were on the verge of busting out laughing. They knew of your dislike for the Durmstrang Headmaster, and you were sure that the majority of the school knew of his weird, little thing for you.

"Headmaster Karkaroff." You turned around hesitantly, fighting back a scream of utter frustration. He looked a little more groomed than usual - his messy, dark brown hair with specks of gray in it was brushed through, and his long goatee had been neatly manipulated into a sharp point. You were also surprised to see him dressed in such expensive looking clothing. The dress coat he sported was a creamy-beige, adorned with a shining black leather belt around his middle, accentuating his lanky figure.

"You look like you need a dance," The corners of his lips turned upwards into a mischievous smirk, and an uncomfortable shiver ran down your spine. "May I help with that?" Karkaroff held out his hand, and your eyes shot down towards it.

"Erm," you stuttered, "well-" You couldn't find the words at all, and it wasn't helping that you could hear the twins behind you snickering to themselves. Before you could even answer, Karkaroff had his hand grasping yours and tugging you to the dancefloor. You stumbled slightly at how fast he had pulled you, and with your other hand, you reached down to grab your skirt to hike it up so you wouldn't trip over.

As the pair of you reached the floor after winding through hoards of dancing students, Karkaroff spun you around a little too quickly, and you ungracefully fell into his chest with a squeak. "Sorry," you mumbled, using a hand to push yourself away from him, "I wasn't really expecting you to do... that."

"You know," Igor chuckled, ignoring your previous comments, "I've been waiting for this moment ever since I arrived here at Hogwarts." He admitted with a wicked smirk, allowing his rough, bony fingers to slide down your bare back, gripping you a little too tightly for your liking.

"...To dance?" You frowned, using your free hand to fidget with his hand that laid flat against your bare back, silently telling him to ease off a little. "Don't be silly." You chuckled awkwardly, casting a glance over to where you had previously stood with the other teachers as you and Karkaroff swayed. Only Snape remained, and your face grew as hot as a firepit as you noticed his eyes were already stuck on you. His face was the usual unhappy, scornful, sour frown.

"Oh, but I am not being silly, little bird." Igor murmured, pushing his face closer to yours. Instinctively, you pulled your head away from his, scrunching your nose up at the awful pet name.

"Little bird?" You repeated, almost choking the words out. You squirmed within his uncomfy grip, casting another glance to Snape, hoping that he'd have just an ounce of human decency to realise that you were asking for help. Surely, he wouldn't be that much of an arsehole to ignore the sign of a colleague in trouble.

"Yes," Igor smiled, making your skin crawl. "You remind me of a little bird - tiny, beautiful..." Your eyes widened at his words, and again, you glanced to where you had seen Snape. Your heart dropped like a rock as you noticed the empty space where he had previously stood. You knew he was a dick, but not so much of a dick to let you get taken hostage by a man you hardly knew - and didn't want to know. "So beautiful... why don't we ditch this party and head back to my quarters? I could show you around." Karkaroff muttered and pulled you even closer, grinning lecherously as he brushed his nose against the crook of your neck. Your breath hitched - but not in a good way.

"Igor..." Your voice was shaky, yet low, indicating that you weren't comfortable at all.

"How about we go somewhere more private?" Karkaroff's hands tightened even more as they slipped down to your hips, pulling your body flush against his. A quiet gasp left your lips as you pressed your palms flat against his chest, attempting to push him off of you. Your eyes flicked to where Snape once stood again, but he was no-where to be seen.

"Something caught your eye, pilentse?" Karkaroff hummed lowly, his eyes narrowing, evidently upset that your attention is busied with something or someone else.

"No." You quickly replied - almost too quickly. "I just need a refreshment, do you mind?" You forced yourself to glance up at Karkaroff's intense, wrinkled eyes.

"Oh, no, that can wait. I've waited almost the whole night for this moment..." Igor grumbled with a sneer as his grip on you became deeper and a little tighter, as if to say you weren't leaving until he deemed it so. That was until you saw that same sneer fall from his face, replaced with what looked like fear. Instantly, your brows furrowed together into a confused frown as you noticed his eyes dart from yours to something behind you, and so you turned around, curious to see why Karkaroff looked like he was about to flee.

"Karkaroff." Snape's deep, almost threatening voice reached your ears, and immediately, your mouth went dry as your heart leaped up into it. So... he did notice you? A rush of relief filled your body and your shoulders relaxed a tad. Snape glanced down at you, his thick mop of black hair framing his pale face. The blue-white light from above highlighted his prominent, handsome features perfectly, and you felt a sense of warmth prickle your skin, pooling in your stomach. You looked away, certain that if you kept staring, he'd assume you were weird or something along those lines.

Igor swallowed thickly, his bony fingers digging into the skin of your back in fear. You winced slightly at the sharp prod, catching Snape's attention. His eyes darted down to where Karkaroff had an iron-grip on you, and his lip twitched into the beginning of a sneer as he looked back to Igor's worried eyes. "Snape," The Durmstrang Headmaster greeted the gloomy Potions Master, clearly a little afraid of him. Apparently everyone was fearful of Snape, except for a select few, you realised. "What can I help you with?" Karkaroff's thick accent had slipped slightly, his voice wavering. You had to stifle a laugh at that - how was a man like Igor Karkaroff afraid of Snape? There was definitely something that you were missing here.

"Professor L/N," Snape ignored Karkaroff and shifted his bored expression to you, though you didn't miss the venomous look that he'd shot at the Bulgarian. You were still in disbelief that Snape had answered your silent cries for help, let alone actually come to save you from Karkaroff's slimy grasp. "I believe we have some important matters to tend to." Snape said matter-of-factly, arching a brow at you expectantly. 

"Wait, what?-" You choked out with wide eyes. You'd been staring a little too hard at Snape, and so you stumbled over your words, unprepared. "Oh, right, yeah- the, erm, the... valerian root." You finished, turning a bright shade of red as Snape's brows furrowed at you in a judgemental fashion, as if to say 'seriously?'.

"Yes," Snape drawled, dragging his disappointed eyes from you to Karkaroff. You huffed quietly, embarrassed. "The valerian root." The Potion Master repeated, shooting you a glare. He held out his hand for you to take, and you reached out to grasp a hold of it, when you were suddenly tugged backwards by Karkaroff. Snape's narrowed eyes darted to the Headmaster's hand wrapped securely around your waist, his nostrils flaring in slight anger. This old, despicable man had no business holding a young witch like you in such a manner.

"That can wait, surely?" Karkaroff said, his voice low as he tucked you closer to his side. You shot a desperate glance to Snape, begging him to help you again. A frustrated breath shot out of his nostrils.

"Tragically, no." Snape quipped sarcastically, his dark eyes piercing a burning hole through Karkaroff. Snape looked furious - his body was rigid. He hadn't moved a muscle apart from his eyes to look at either you or Igor. "Professor?" He glanced to you, stretching his hand to you once more, and you took it happily, allowing him to pull you out of Karkaroff's slimy hands and to his safe side. Your cheeks flushed pink at the closeness between you two, and you kept your eyes on the ground as Snape shifted his hand to sit on the small of your back, guiding you away from Karkaroff.

Part 2! (wip) Masterpost

there is part 1, i hope you enjoyed it, and i hope it was sort of what you expected! i can't remember what i said i was going to do but this is what i came up with hehe. i'm always a sucker for jealousy.

let me know if you liked it/what you thought, i do apologise that it was kinda short, but it'll be finished tomorrow! <3

i hope you're all well! :)

[natasha-in-space]

I think not nearly enough people comprehend just how messed up Rika's and V's relationships truly was, actually. It is so easy to get hyperfocused on the big climax of their toxic obsession: the cult, the physical violence, and the secrets. But, like... You ever actually sit down and think about the sheer fact that V looked at Rika: a hurt, traumatized girl, terrified of being her true self, desperate for love she didn't even have a clear idea of in her own mind, safe for some very vague feeling she deemed to be 'love', and... He saw beauty in it. He was never malicious about it, nor did he even realize it fully, not until MC came into his life and pushed him into reevaluating his own worth as well as his views on what love truly is. But, at the time, he saw all that hidden pain and trauma in her, and he saw beauty in it. He was intrigued by it. It fascinated him. He desired to transform it into something even more stunning with his own two hands, analogous to an artist fixing his next big masterpiece. And she was his masterpiece. One he would paint and bend and mold into something he knew he wanted to achieve. It wasn't even a want, it was a craving. Not really knowing that he was just so racked with guilt and self-hatred after his mother's death, that he was merely trying to prove himself to no one but his own troubled and scared mind. To prove to himself that he could be an artist, and that he really could love like the sun. That he could save someone this time around, instead of losing them. Because, truth is, he could never be an artist, not in the way his soul truly longed for.

Rika was both his muse and his creation at the same time.

That's why he never encouraged her to get the help she desperately needed if she didn't want to do it herself. That's why he never got involved in any extreme ways until it became far too difficult for him to handle. That's why he told her time and time again that she was beautiful and perfect just the way she is, even when she herself would doubt and be deeply disturbed by his eager willingness to sink into the deepest of lows for her.

In a way, neither of them truly knew each other. It's a fact that they cared for each other at one point in time. But they didn't see each other as equal individuals to grow and change alongside. For Rika, V was her sun she adored and loathed all the same. He was not a person, he was just an anchor that kept her steady and a cruel reminder of all she could never be. For V, Rika was his canvas to pour his locked away feelings onto. She was not a person, she was a living proof of his ability to create and love in a way he desperately craved.

And in the end, that destroyed and scarred both of them. Not only them, but also many completely innocent individuals who were caught in the crossfire.

What a big, complicated, and horrible mess these two are.

[rubywonu]

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 - 𝘅𝘂 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗵𝗮𝗼

summary: in which minghao flirted with a woman at an art exhibition without realizing that she was the artist.

pairing: xu minghao x fem!reader

genre: meet cute, museum au!.

warnings: talks about struggles people face in life, kinds sad?

w/c: 0.9k

nia’s notes: i do not know where i was going with this, it may be rushed, idek anymore. but enjoy!!

this is part of cutetober!

if anyone knew minghao it was because of his crazy love for paintings and art museums. so it didn't come as a surprise when minghao decided to spend an entire day at the 'everything falls' art exhibition by yn.

even if someone was slightly interested in art, they knew of yn. so when the opportunity to visit one of your exhibitions minghao rushed to the museum. it always amused him how everyone knew of your name but not your face.

minghao walked inside the museum and just by seeing the hue of orange and brown in his peripheral view, he was sure that today was going to be amazing.

minghao slowly walked over to the first painting, basking in all the emotions. the first painting showed leaves falling from the sky, each of them more dry than the previous one. minghao took a look at the name of the painting, 'as time flies'. it was obvious what the painting was conveying but the way it portrayed the message intrigued minghao.

minghao walked to the next painting and his mouth was wide open. painted on the canvas, was a woman, her back bare as she stared at multiple mirrors, each being broken in different ways and the women in the mirrors being older or younger than another.

now minghao had gone to his share of muesems and exhibitions but they never had such a mind-blowing way to convey one's emotions.

"failed and flawed." minghao turned his head to the woman walking towards him. "it's my favorite painting." it was an understatement to say that the woman walking towards minghao was pretty, in his eyes that woman was drop-dead gorgeous.

"i haven't seen any more of them but this has to be the best one so far." minghao turned back to the canvas and each time he looked at it, a new meaning behind it evoked in him. "what's your interpretation?"

"my interpretation is that this young woman looks at herself through different eras of her life and she remembers all her failed attempts in life and how her life was flawed but they calm down after she realizes the beauty of the falls in her life." you finished still looking at the painting in front of you, minghao's eyes never left you though.

he never thought about it like that and it made so much more sense now that he understood yet another version of it. "it makes so much more sense after having a beautiful woman explain it to me."

if minghao could, he wanted to slap his face. he didn't know why he said that and more importantly he was worried how you would take the spontaneous flirting. to his surprise, you laughed and played along. "i hope so, i don't explain my thoughts about my paintings to anyone, you know."

just as minghao was going to continue, he stopped right in his tracks. "my paintings? what does that mean."

you smiled and turned towards minghao, putting your hand out for him to shake. "im yn, the artist of the 'everything fall' collection."

minghao's mouth for the second time that day was wide open. "oh my god." he rushed to shake your hand.

"you're yn? that's amazing. i love your work. and about the flirting im so sorry. minghao what were you thinking?" minghao started to ramble and it added to your entertainment as you laughed.

"it's alright. i actually enjoyed it, to be honest." you smiled at him, and minghao felt like the world was going to end. you looked like you deserved your own painting, you were stunning.

"if it's alright to ask you, what was your inspiration for such an intriguing collection." minghao asked you the question you tried to avoid for the evening but you wanted to spill it all out to him, he felt comfortable.

"it's ok, just don't sell it to a publisher." you joked around and minghao cracked a smile at your answer. "last year, i took a trip around the country and visited a bunch of villages. during my stay, i met a group of women from different places who told me about their lives and the lessons they learned during their time on this planet. they told me about incidents that changed the trajectory of their lives either for the better or worse. that's why i chose to paint this, i chose to express their grief in brush strokes and paint, i guess while listening to them, i found out about the struggles in my life as well, either i didn't want to confront them or i never knew they existed."

"if you look at all the paintings you can see how mellow the messages behind the paintings get. it starts off rough and dark but as you walk by the pictures you can the gradual calm settling in, it shows the emotions that people feel when negativity strikes their lives. it shows the way people deal with those emotions." you finished your little speech and minghao was awestruck.

you talked about your paintings and minghao felt like he could listen to them forever. although it was your first meeting, minghao felt like the two of you met a long time back, it felt like the two of you shared the same soul.

you didn't realize then but for the rest of your life, you and minghao would go on for hours about your interpretation of paintings. the only thing that changed was that instead of being strangers, the both of you would be soulmates, and the both of you would fall deep in love all because of some paintings.

taglist: @caratlibrary . @caratsland . @kflixnet . @jyiiscool . @readingaddict420 . @pixieskie . @@anemoiant . @horanghae8 . @boooooseun . @wonwooz1 . @xomingyu . @bangchansbae .@weird-bookworm .

[toournextadventure]

Not sure if you're accepting requests but... I was thinking about Wednesday x gn!reader who asks her to the Rave'N dance then she's surprised cause reader matches her outfit and doesn't wear the correct theme of the dance. For the first time Wednesday is genuinely astonished and likes reader even more when they're covered in blood (red paint lol) 🤭

You know the vibe, our girl has a VERY specific taste in partners 😌

we match

Dances were pointless. School dances were even more pointless; they were truly nothing more than an excuse to put a bunch of teenagers into one room and put the social hierarchy on full display. Wednesday could admire the sadomasochism of it all, but that did not mean she wanted to attend. She was not her mother, she was not her father, and she did not care about the Rave’N.

She only agreed to go with you because she felt sorry for you, that was all.

“You look stunning!” Enid practically screamed in the most shrill voice Wednesday had ever heard.

“I look ridiculous,” Wednesday commented, although she would silently admit she did like the dress.

“It’s not the theme, but it suits you,” Enid continued more seriously with a small nod. “When is your date getting here?”

“Not a date,” Wednesday said, “but they should be here soon.”

As if she had summoned you herself, there was a knock on the door. Enid was on the verge of running to the door when Wednesday gave her a glare that had her shaking in her obnoxiously loud white boots. Wednesday herself walked to the door and opened it, fully prepared to ask if you were ready to torture her with this stupid dance and-

-and your outfit was black. You matched her dress.

“You look stunning,” you said with a small smile. It was nauseating. She wanted you to do it again.

“That’s what I said,” Enid chimed in; she ignored the look Wednesday sent her this time. “And you both match!”

“Well yeah, she’s my date,” you said with a shrug. Wednesday glared at your word usage. “But speaking of matching…” you pulled your hands from behind your back and held up two black rose corsages. “Now we can pull up in style.”

“Oh my god, that’s so cute!” Enid cheered.

But Wednesday wasn’t listening to her. No, she was focused on your hands, and the way your fingers brushed against her skin as you slid the corsage over her wrist. The way you just yanked yours over your own wrist without the same tenderness. Or your tongue poking out just past your lips as you readjusted your outfit, smiling once it was the way you wanted it.

“You ready to go?” You asked, holding your arm out for Wednesday to take.

She didn’t say anything, just slipped her arm through yours and let you lead the way. You walked tall with your head held high; unusual for you. Yet as soon as you were with her you were a new person. Heads turned as you both stepped into the dance, but you just looked down at Wednesday.

“Everyone is staring,” you said just loud enough for her to hear. “How about we give them something to talk about?”

You held your hand out for her to take, and Wednesday hesitated for only a moment before taking it; it was warm and soft. The way you moved was like a spectral ghost, feet barely touching the floor, movements so smooth it was mesmerising. But what Wednesday was still so focused on was your outfit.

What had possessed you to wear black? It wasn’t your typical colour palette; you wore it, but not religiously. Yet today, the day of all days, you wore all black. You knew the theme of the Rave’N this year was white, and you loved white. Had you truly done all of this for her?

If so, it was foolish. No one should abandon their interests or desires for someone else. That led to weakness, and weakness could be exploited. By doing this in front of everyone, you were admitting that she was your weakness. Someone was going to use it against you, or worse, try to use it against her to get something. Not only were you admitting your own fallacy, you were setting her up for exploitation.

And yet, Wednesday had to admire you. She wanted to admire you. You had accepted your feelings, had accepted the possible looks and words thrown at you, and you had done it anyway. For some unknown reason, you had gone out of your way to wear something black, something that matched her dress perfectly, and you were doing it with a smile on your face.

No. No, she didn’t like you. At least not aloud.

You ended the dance with a dip, holding her suspended in air with a smile on your lips. She still liked it. But your smile morphed into a slight frown, your face displaying confusion. What were you looking at? Wednesday was about to open her mouth to ask when she noticed a new red spot on your nose. Then on your cheek, where it dripped down.

Those few drops were the opening of a floodgate, and the sprinklers went off. You pulled her back up to her feet, holding her close and doing your best to shield her from the bloody rain. She didn’t mind, and you didn’t seem too concerned, but you tried. And they say chivalry is dead, Wednesday thought as your face became coated in the thick red liquid.

It really brought out the colour of your eyes and looked fabulous in contrast to your outfit.

“You look stunning,” Wednesday said aloud, mirroring what you had told her earlier.

You lowered your head to look at her and slowly, almost sadistically, your smile grew. The blood accentuated your smile.

Wednesday loved it.

[thatfandomslut]

Art Is Immortal

Janis Imi'ike x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Trigger Warnings: talks of dying, idiots crushing on each other and expressing their crushes through art

Request:

Valentine's / Followers Celebration; Janis Imi'ike with quote 15 and piece of chocolate number 8. Or: "Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while." w/ crushing

Valentine's / Followers Celebration requests are closed.

"You paint about death a lot," Janis commented, sitting on the stool behind (Y/n), who turned to give her a cheeky grin. There was something about the mischievous glint in (Y/n)'s eye that caused Janis's heartbeat to quicken in her chest. She had to remind herself where she was. (Y/n) didn't feel the same about her and they were just friends. Why couldn't Janis remember that? "You're work is always stunning, of course. I guess you could just color me curious as to why you're so infatuated with the idea of death so much that you would paint about it."

(Y/n) finished what she was doing in order to give Janis more of her attention. She placed the paintbrush into the water, swirling it around to rid it of the paint she had been using before wiping her hands on the smock she was wearing. "I guess because art is immortal, it outlives death. There are only two things that can outlive death, you know?" Janis quirked an eyebrow, wondering just what (Y/n) meant. "Art and love." (Y/n) commented, causing surprise to etch its way onto Janis's expression. It was missed by (Y/n), who was putting more paint into her wooden palette.

Janis took a second to process (Y/n)'s words. She didn't know that she might be a hopeless romantic. Maybe she was just reading into it too much. Maybe she was way too cynical to truly believe (Y/n)'s words. "Do you actually believe that true love can actually outlive something as permanent as death?" Janis questioned, looking (Y/n) over with a quizzical expression on her face. Her brown eyes reminded (Y/n) of chocolate and caramel as the sun hit them perfectly from the sunlight beaming out from the window.

"Do you not?" (Y/n) raised a delicate brow as she grabbed a fresh brush and began to paint again. Janis wanted to take it back, not wanting to ruin the delicate fabric that was her relationship with (Y/n). Instead, she waited for (Y/n) to peer back so she could shake her head in response, now feeling too embarrassed to say 'no.' There was a little smile that danced onto (Y/n)'s lips, tugging gently at the corners as it grew. "Death might be permanent, but that doesn't mean something can't outlive it, especially in terms of love. That's why people bury themselves next to their families and their loved ones. In fact, love can prolong life, even if death is inevitable."

There was a silent moment that passed between them as Janis thought about what (Y/n) was saying. She knew (Y/n) was intelligent, but she didn't realize just how wise she truly was. "So, what you're saying is… Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while. Then, when all is said and done, it can outlive death?" Janis repeated to the best of her understanding of (Y/n)'s words. She wanted to understand (Y/n)'s words perfectly.

(Y/n) turned around, her eyes dazzling again as they met with Janis's. Janis felt her breath catch in her throat as she forced her jaw to stay where it was. "Exactly," she said softly, leaning now on the table beside her. "I believe that true love can outlive anything. Whether it be death or hate, love conquers all. It even conquers art. That says a lot because just like love, art is immortal." (Y/n) expressed, lying her palette down, and placing her paintbrush in the water.

Janis watched her motions, smiling a bit when (Y/n) crossed the room to her. "Do you think…" She was struggling to think of her words properly as she watched (Y/n) approach her, giving her the undivided attention that she always craved. She cleared her throat as she glanced away momentarily. "Do you think you and I could outlive death?" She inquired as (Y/n) pulled a stool over to sit beside Janis. She felt herself subconsciously lean into the space (Y/n) was sitting in. (Y/n) didn't oppose or say anything about the action. Instead, she followed Janis's lead.

Their eyes almost simultaneously looked at each other's lips as they continued to lean in. "Yes, I think that what we have could outlive death." (Y/n) said before their lips finally made contact. It felt like the world stopped turning for a moment. Either that or an eternity passed. Janis forgot how time worked as they kissed for what Janis hoped would be their entire lifetime. Unfortunately, they had to breathe, causing them to slowly, almost hesitantly, pull away from each other. Neither completely moved as their foreheads gently found their place by resting against each other. Throughout the silence, the sound of Janis's rushing heartbeat throbbed into her ears.

Janis smiled a bit as they eventually parted fully, looking at each other with a strong sense of satisfaction passing between them. Everything felt right in the world. Maybe (Y/n) was right, maybe love could outlive death. Janis knew that she needed to drop her cynical thoughts, and for the first time in her life since her kiss during Spin the Bottle, she felt like love could be real. "I hope that you and I can have a love that outlives every piece of immortal art there ever was, is, and ever will be," Janis commented, realizing that whatever sap (Y/n) had was now rubbing off onto her.

A grin that caused Janis to feel her heart palpitate overtook (Y/n)'s smile as she moved to retrieve her art supplies to resume painting. "I'm sure we will, Janis." She responded, and Janis wondered how she could resume normal activities after such a powerful kiss. However, she was unaware of all the struggle (Y/n) was having as she attempted to recuperate from the kiss herself. Still, she forced herself to remain cool because, on the inside, she felt the hopeless romantic in herself screaming in joy. For now, she could express all of that joy in her art.

[cloveroctobers]

JOEY/ANA LUCIA CRUZ — Spring Writings 🩵

A/N: because I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t get inspired by a horror film. This isn’t anything big since I’m “supposed” to be on a writing break but I’ve been in the mood for something domestic lately so here you go 🙂‍↔️

PROMPT is from HERE & I’m using: 2.       “Why did I let you remodel the bathroom?”

.☘︎ ݁˖⚘‎₊˚⊹ 𐦍༘⋆₊ ⊹ .☘︎ ݁˖⚘‎₊˚⊹ 𐦍༘⋆₊ ⊹ .☘︎ ݁˖⚘‎₊˚⊹ 𐦍༘⋆₊ ⊹ .☘︎ ݁˖⚘‎₊˚

Joey’s in a mood.

When she wakes up, she’s already aware of the type of time she was on. The room feels like it’s spinning even when she’s laying in bed, the light from her phone to check the time only makes her head feel heavier, and when she pushes herself up into a sitting position in bed she feels as if she’s going to tipple right over onto the floor.

She figures she’s been coming down with something these past few days but did all the proper care the minute she felt unwell. She was a medic, she knows what to do and what her body should feel like. She also didn’t want her sickness to interfere with any time she got to spend with her son. It was baby steps bonding with her son and not to mention her hard-ass of a mother but Joey made a promise to herself to put in the work.

Giving herself time, she’s out of bed and making her way down the hallway which feels like one of those walkthroughs with the strobe lights at the museum. Now that she’s on her feet, she feels as if her body is about to cave in from rattling against the cold. Her shoulders are turned inwards as she uses the wall for leverage to make it to the bathroom. Joey doesn’t bother to feel for the light and just wants to find the toilet, which isn’t far from the entrance, but she doesn’t see the pair of feet stretched out that sends her flying through the bathroom towards where the shower wall should be, that her hands have to reach out for support as she slams to the floor.

She’s hissing at the pain that radiates from her hip and down her femur. Through half lidded eyes she glances around, fingers pressed into her forehead in aggravation as well as discomfort. “Y/n?! Are you fucking serious? Why are you on the floor in the dark?!”

You’re sitting up now, “I see better in the dark remember? That fall looked like it hurt, you good?”

Joey scoffs, “no! I’m not good, I just busted my ass because of what?”

She listens carefully as you clink a wrench against the side of the toilet and her blood feels like it’s simmering as she recalls the reason for your actions, “…Why did I let you remodel the bathroom?”

“To save us money, duh.” You respond as you get up to head over to the brunette.

You hold out your hand, waiting for Joey to find your hand in the dark so you can pull her up. It’s much quicker than anticipated but you help her to her feet anyway. Now she’s moving around you to flick the dim lighting of the room on and gets a good look of the small space. The tub was no longer a tub—being broken down and leaving a mess all along the floor, there were multiple paint swatches on the wall, the mirror above the sink was still in tact along with the toilet.

Joey blinks, “aren’t vampires supposed to be wealthy? Why not have someone else do it for you?”

You cackle, which always sounds like windchimes.

“My carpenter of a father didn’t leave shit behind for us and always expected us to work for our own…just imagine how disappointed he was to hear that his eldest daughter wanted to be a cellist for a living—which was somewhat satisfactory centuries ago. Then my mother? A complete gambler? it would be a miracle for us siblings to even see a hundred dollars. I have the skill so I can do it and you’ll thank me later once my craft leaves you stunned.” You bounced on your toes with a grin while Joey just shook her head.

She never thought after what happened at the manor that she would ever interact with vampires again. Foolish woman. Yet you came along months later when Joey was trying to get her life together and all of a sudden she had a new roommate. Who happened to be a damn vampire! You tricked her and although her guard should have been up, you swore you didn’t want to drink her dry—stating that you weren’t a fan of AB negative blood—you still threw that threat around that you would although it happened to be a empty threat.

Joey was still aware of the strength that you had. And living with a vampire wasn’t so bad until now, with you renovating and her forgetting the crime scene you committed days ago in this same bathroom. You liked to keep the hunts outside of the apartment since the clean up took up quite a lot of time and the stench stained your nails that you had to stop seeing your manicurist and do it yourself! To put it simply, matters went left that night all because of your fling Klaus and Joey came home a lot sooner than expected! You’ve noticed that Joey’s been under the weather a lot lately, being in a brain fog that she seemed to be forgetting things, cold, and sleeping a lot more.

She didn’t relapse, which was great considering everything she told you one late night when she couldn’t sleep. The pack of lollipops were commonly on the list to pick up but as long as she kept up with her meetings and dentist appointments then there shouldn’t be anything to worry about, right?

I know you didn’t believe that.

“Every time you say that, that always equals another outcome,” Joey’s gripping the sides of the sink now and exhales.

You twist your body back and forth as you innocently say, “not sure what you mean buttercup—

“Ugh, shut up! Don’t do the pet names, it makes me nauseous.”

You lightly ask, “Are you pregnant?”

“What the hell did you just say?” Joey is baffled as her head whips to where you stand.

“Just a thought.” You lift your shoulders, “i thought you hit it off with…shit I’m so bad with names.”

“The guy that you forgot to mention was a fucking mutant? I don’t even know what’s worse a mutant or a vampire?!” Joey growled before taking a deep breath after glancing at you pouting at her, “You don’t need to worry about my love life, what you need to worry about is us having a functioning bathroom!”

You point the wrench in the direction of the said item, “the toilet and sink still work. I didn’t mess with the pipes yet! And as your roommate and best friend you’ve ever had or only had—it’s my job to make sure you’re spicing things up.”

Joey lifts a brow, “you think I need a man of a mutant to do that?”

“…if that’s what you prefer, unless you state otherwise…” you place your hand on your hip in anticipation.

Joey huffs, “I’m not doing this with you this morning—

“It’s one pm.” You inform but pull your lips together as Joey glares at you with her dark downturned eyes.

“Could you leave the bathroom so I can actually use it?” Joey manages to get out, feeling a chill and a turn of her stomach wash over her body.

You nod, “sure! Do you think it’s roughly going to be a five minute sesh or forty five because I can get started on dinner or brunch?”

Joey picks at the back of your shirt, actually lifting you off your feet to walk you out of the bathroom, tossing you a bit into the adjacent hallway wall, before slamming the door behind you.

“That wasn’t pleasant,” you sharply exhale as you fix your shirt and make your way down the hallway.

You pass by the kitchen, through the living room to your bedroom which you leave the door open just a crack as you plop down onto your bed belly first. Reaching for the copper rotary, your fingers rotate against the numbers before the ringing begins in your ear.

“Hammy! How are ya? Are we still on for dinner tonight? My friend is getting worse and could really use your help.” You keep your voice leveled just in cause those senses kicked in too.

No matter what Joey thought, you were friends and you only wanted what was best for her.

This life was just not that, in your opinion.

You had to prepare for the worst before she was even aware of what this all was. However tonight with the visit of Abraham, would open her eyes some more unfortunately.

.☘︎ ݁˖⚘‎₊˚⊹ 𐦍༘⋆₊ ⊹ .☘︎ ݁˖⚘‎₊˚⊹ 𐦍༘⋆₊ ⊹ .☘︎ ݁˖⚘‎₊˚⊹ 𐦍༘⋆₊ ⊹ .☘︎ ݁˖⚘‎₊˚

[thatsmybook]

In season 2, in preparation for the Valentine's Ball, Felice decides not to wear the white wig with her outfit.

She has her natural hair big, and curly and out, and stunning. Also, I love that her dress is a dark colour compared to everyone else's pale coloured outfits.

She says to her friends about the wig: "I don't know what to do. I can't wear that. It doesn't feel like me." Madison says, "Isn't that the point, though." Stella says," I think it's really pretty." Felice replies with, "It's not that it's not pretty. That's not the problem. It just doesn't feel right. But it's so weird. Everyone else will wear one."

She wants to be herself and sit in her own beauty, but she is worried that she will stand out by not conforming. Parallel this with her dad in season 3 telling her, "When I started (at Hillerska), I tried to have my own style. Some different cool clothes, big unruly hair....But here, that wasn't an option. Soon, I looked like everyone else."

When how you look, your hair, the colour of your skin, makes you different, conforming to the hierarchy that implies that European standards of beauty are superior, is necessary to have an easier time at Hillerska. According to Poppe, "That's how you win. Play be the rules."

I love how this is followed by Felice going against the rules of Hillerska that you don't snitch on the goings-on of the institution, and being honest. Leaving her conforming dad out of the interview room.

I like to contrast Felice's decision at the Valentine's Ball with Wilhelm painting his face and putting on his wig that makes him look like a traditional Prince. In this scene, he is crying as he dons his Prince apparel. It also 'doesn't feel right'. And it also 'doesn't feel like him'. He has always hated his role as Prince. Even something that should be fun, like playing dress up for a ball that everyone is doing, is not. Because he's not playing a role like everyone else. He is that role, and he hates it.

As to the other characters: August is seen to be really pleased with his reflection in the mirror as a traditional noble (read Prince) role. Sara is caught up in the excitement of being one of the elite girls and playing at being a part of their world. Simon is in his school uniform. He is himself. A 16 year old school boy. He definitely stands out at the ball, but he doesn't care.

[nerdasaurus1200]

Day 5- Forbidden Love

Obligatory Tags: @our-newdream @autumn-sundrop @seadrreams @the-writer1988

For today’s prompt I decided to do a small drabble! This takes place in an au where Eugene was pardoned, but isn’t allowed to date Rapunzel or be in the palace. For now at least, Frederic wants to try out a few suitors for Rapunzel. It was inspired by this particular concept art, because it’s really cute and I love it XD

~~~~~

“Let me guess, date with Prince Bradley didn’t go like you hoped?” Cassandra asked as she glanced down at the full cup of tea.

“Oh, nono, it was fine!” Rapunzel quickly reassured, “Well..until he called Pascal a salamander.” Ahhh, so that’s why he’d been red all day.

“Could be worse. Your dad could be setting you up with one of the princes from the Southern Isles.” Cass tried to cheer her up.

“I know, but I don’t want a prince from the southern isles. I don’t want any stuffy old prince.” Rapunzel replied, “They’re nice and all, but I….they just don’t understand me. And they’re WAY too interested in my hair. I keep telling them, it doesn’t heal anymore.”

Cassandra frowned, her heart breaking at her friend’s misery. She didn’t like this any more than Rapunzel did, but neither of them had any choice. Rapunzel had to find a suitable prince to marry, and Cassandra had to act like she was in full support of it.

“I just wish I could be with someone who loved me. Not the princess.” Rapunzel sighed, falling down onto her bed. Without even looking, she reached her hand under her pillow and pulled out a small flag. The flag Eugene bought her for her birthday. He’d given her the kindest smile when he handed it to her, and chuckled when she held it up to the light.

“It’s no lanterns, but any true devil may care rogue makes sure to get the birthday girl a present, Blondie.” She recalled him saying.

“Yeah I know, Raps.” Cassandra responded, “But…sometimes life doesn’t always work that wa-“

“Oh, Rapunzel! Let down your hair!” A familiar voice sang out.

“Lance! I told you not to sing!” They heard Eugene mutter. Cassandra and Rapunzel gave each other a look and headed outside to the balcony. To their surprise, they found a familiar pair of faces scaling the tower to Rapunzel’s room, bickering to each other about a dramatic entrance.

“Eugene! Lance!” Rapunzel cried out happily.

“And there’s the someone, right on cue.” Cassandra snarked, “Looks like he was preening a little extra today.”

“You know what Cassandra?” Eugene started to retort, but his voice died in his throat a little as he laid eyes on Rapunzel.

“Hey..” he whispered.

“Hi!” She chirped, her smile shining brighter than the sun. Eugene couldn’t help but find himself smiling back. She looked So beautiful with the sunset behind her like this, practicality bathing her in a halo of light. From up there she looked like an angel. That stunning dark purple dress that brought out her beautiful eyes. Those gorgeous freckles that perfectly painted her rosy cheeks. Short bubble sleeves like the one on that dress complimented her so well. She should wear them more often.

“What brings you and Lance out her?” Rapunzel asked.

“Damaging stone that’s hundreds of years old…and breaking into the palace…again.” Cassandra added dryly.

“Well a little birdie, or rather frog, told Eugene that you had a bad day.” Lance explained.

“So I brought a picnic!” Eugene announced. He moved his arm to grab the basket so he could show her, but then his arm flew right back to the arrow lodged in the wall as soon as he felt himself falling.

“And I’m here for musical ambience!” Lance announced proudly.

“And I’ve also got some candles too!” Eugene added, “And lanterns in case you wanted those instead of candles. But both are very romantic.”

“Exactly how long have you guys been scaling the wall like this with all this stuff?” Rapunzel asked.

“Uhhh….2 hours?” Eugene answered, “But don’t worry, my arms aren’t tired at all.”

Rapunzel barely stopped herself from giggling, “Do you want to climb my hair?”

“…Yes please, this is killing me.” Eugene finally whimpered, looking up at her like a kicked puppy. Rapunzel let the giggle out this time, and let her hair fall down from the balcony. Eugene quickly abandoned the arrows and grabbed on, now climbing much quicker. Rapunzel couldn’t help herself from leaning over the railing as Eugene finally made it to the balcony. Her heart soared as their eyes met and they smiled at each other. He must’ve gotten closer without her realizing, because before she knew it his lips were on hers. She giggled once more and happily kissed him back, her hands rising up to hold his face.

“Hey.” He purred when she pulled away.

“Hi…” she whispered, her cheeks flushing.

Lance chuckled to himself as he saw the scene, walking over to Cassandra as the two love birds pulled their picnic out.

“I doubt the King will ever approve of this.” Cassandra warned him quietly, “He’ll never allow them to be together.”

“Are you gonna say anything, goody two shoes?” Lance teased, but the twinkle in his eyes gave him away that he already knew the answer.

“I won’t say anything if you won’t.” Cassandra said anyway, “Besides, what they do when the king isn’t looking is their business.”

[venusvity]

이초희  ……  (  THE WEIGHT OF YOU: PART THREE.  )

❝Nobody owns life, but anyone who can pick up a frying pan owns death.❞                         ―  William S. Burroughs

CHARACTERS :   CHLOE LEE  …   SON ROAN  …   CHO JIHAN

WORDS : 1.3K

WARNINGS / NOTES : Dead Body. Physical Violence. Really just a piece about Chloe's mental and her start to coping with her abuser finally being dead. If I missed something, let me know! Thank you so much for reading! rbs, comments, and asks are always appreciated ♡

PART ONE ... PART TWO ... PART THREE

Sitting between two grown men sits Chloe still in her PJs, blood still splattered across her face and decorating the lace of her tank top. The truck Roan is driving is old and jostles around a lot as he drives down the dirt road that seemingly leads to nowhere. Her manicured hands rest on her bony knees, while polish and pink designs adore them. They’ve been driving for what feels like hours now, passing through cities and neighborhoods until they’ve ended up in the countryside.

It’s been a long time since Chloe’s been to the countryside. She hates the woods. Bad things happen in the woods. Bad things that have been replaying through Chloe’s mind all night. Bad things that Hyojin facilitated and encouraged despite saying he loved her. Chloe would never do to Hyojin what he did to her, but that’s because she truly loved him despite his glaring red flags.

The neon-painted warning signs Chloe ignored back then mean nothing now, though. Hyojin is dead, and she isn’t. It’s a victory very few people in Chloe’s position get to relish in. She didn’t want to look like a psycho in front of Roan and Jihan, but throughout the ride, every time she’d hear the dead weight of Hyojin’s body in the bed of the truck being tossed around, she’d smile or chuckle. She couldn’t help it. Hyojin was dead, and she wasn’t. It was almost too amusing.

The three of them haven’t spoken the entire ride. They’ve barely looked at each other. Jihan would glance at Chloe when he heard her chuckle, clearly fighting the urge to join in with her. He found Chloe amusing, fascinating even, but given the circumstances he stayed silent, knowing that saying anything would ruin the comfortable silence the trio had unwillingly built.

“Alright,” Roan grunts, putting the truck in park when they get to their supposed destination. Chloe leans forward to look past Jihan and out his window, feeling nothing but miles and miles of grass. She has no idea where the hell they are but oddly, she feels safe. She knows why she feels safe. The only person capable of hurting her is dead in the back of the truck, soon to be lit on fire and turned into nothing but ash. Truthfully, Chloe hasn’t felt this safe in years. It’s a refreshing feeling.

Roan and Jihan open their doors at the same time, Jihan holding the door open for Chloe and extending his hand out for her to help her down. Chloe feels like a princess on her way to the ball when she takes the man’s hand, elegantly stepping down and into the grass with a small hum as she cranes her neck around to take in her surroundings. 

“It’s very nice out here,” Chloe says, speaking the first thing that comes to her mind. Jihan hums, nodding as he looks around as well.

“Stunning, actually.”

Roan clears his throat, causing the both of them to turn their attention towards him. He stands with an unamused look on his face and hands on his hips.

“Someone help me with this body, please.”

When Hyojin’s body is laid in the damp grass, Chloe can’t stop herself from starring at him, arms limply at her side and an expressionless look on her face as Roan and Jihan work on getting the fire set up, sticks and leaves cracking beneath their feet.

Chloe can’t believe she’s looking at the devil right now. How she’s staring at him and he can’t do anything about it. He’s stiff and cold with a dent in his skull. She blinks, taking a step toward him with a tilt of her head like he’d wake up. His jaw is slightly ajar and eyes blankly stare up at the sky. He is dead and she isn’t. Chloe just can’t believe it.

She taps his body with her foot, watching as he sluggishly moves with just the slightest touch. There’s a calming feeling of nothingness blanketing her as she taps him again, waiting to hear his protests but they never come. She taps his side again this time with more force, taking a deep breath when she hears her foot collide with his flesh. It’s a dull sound, barely there, but it makes Chloe’s heart beat faster.

She rears her foot back, landing a hard and swift blow to Hyojin’s side. He says nothing but his body limply moves, making Chloe take a shaky breath and her brows to knit as if she’s confused. She wants him to say something, she wants him to scream, she wants him to beg her to stop, and she wants to hear him cry. Chloe wants to hear herself in Hyojin. Her eyes are suddenly hot and her chest feels like it's on fire, making her lips press into a firm line.

“Stupid,” Chloe whispers as she kicks him again. “Stupid fucking monster.” She slams her foot into Hyojin again, and again, and again until she’s breathing like a maniac, sweat forming on her hairline and calve beginning to burn. She can’t stop it even if she wants to. It’s like she needs to kick him until something in him breaks. She needs to hear a crack, a snap, she needs to hear it to make herself stop. 

It’s not fair that Hyojin and his friends could break something inside her but she couldn’t do the same. It’s so tiring. It’s such a tiring secret but Chloe will keep it until she dies, preferring to be weighted down by a confession she’ll never utter instead of another soul knowing what happened to her. She thinks it’s funny that Hyojin is the one lying in the grass now, being brutalized by her even if he can’t feel anything. 

Chloe has a vague memory of feeling nothing that night in the woods. It was like her mind and body shut down to protect her from what was happening to her. She still doesn’t know if she’s grateful for it or not.

Desperate for a break, Chloe stomps her foot down on Hyojin’s ribs once, twice, three times, yelling with every stomp out of desperation as her body starts to get tired but she pushes herself to deliver one last blow. There’s a dull snapping Chloe’s never heard before, making her eyes widen as she stares at her foot on Hyojin’s chest. It’s deeper than it was a second again, making Chloe hold her breath for a moment before inhaling through her nose with a stiff nod.

“I’d rip you open if I could,” Chloe tells Hyojin’s body, lifting her foot from his chest and placing it back on the grass. It’s like she’s brought back to Earth in that moment where she can feel the men behind her staring at her back, making her sniffle as she fixes her hair. She tucks the dark strands behind her ears, clearing her throat as she turns around slowly. 

Chloe’s eyes stay on the grass in front of her, only seeing Roan and Jihan’s shoes as she steps away from Hyojin’s body, crossing her arms as she stands off to the side to let them finish the job.

Her work is done. Now, all she has to do is wait for the fire to catch.

[daisychainsandbowties]

actually (i’m not sorry) let’s talk about force-bonded jedi knights Shannon and Mary.

“A Force-bond was a powerful connection between two Force-sensitive individuals that bridged their minds, allowing them to communicate through the Force both visually and emotionally.

The range of the bond was vast; it could span the galaxy, keeping two beings united in a psychic link despite the physical distance between them. As a result, both parties would manifest in each other's location at the same time, making it possible for them to see, hear and feel each other through their bond.”

thinking of Shannon standing in the hallway watching death approach and reaching out, finding that familiar hand, half-memory and half-desire. clutching it even as she raises her saber in the last extreme defense of Ava.

burning her life because she used to dream of holding a blue saber, of going out in glory, but love taught her to long for balance, for harmony, for peace. for green.

and she would have lived in peace, with Mary on some far-flung planet. tinkering with ships and growing too old, too fast. fixing up droids and complaining about the weather and painting the shutters in spring.

but she’s a jedi, so what she has is only an instant of that peace as she feels Mary come awake in a distant place. one last prayer on her lips. “let it be safe. let it be safe and very far away.”

whispering, “i’m sorry. i couldn’t face this part alone.”

distance had never stopped them and it doesn’t stop Shannon from dying with Mary’s arms around her.

they grow up hand-in-hand, youngling Shannon missing a piece of herself until she finds Mary. this odd, thoughtful girl from incredibly far away, who knows about engine specs and torque but not the laws of physics.

telekinetically passing her notes in class, sending them adrift like little white birds. Mary initially dumps them all in the wastepaper bin at the end of their classes, head spinning with physics and math and chemistry and kinetics and protocol and all the myriad things a jedi must know.

but eventually she unfolds them, hiding her blush with her binder of notes. chickenscratch handwriting and little diagrams of a cartoon Shannon (labelled) bonking a cartoon Mary on the head with a saber.

back when Shannon thought hers would be blue.

Mary most at home with a practice blade in her hand, trying to get used to the airy spaces in the jedi temple, quiet courtyards and the soft shuffle of pages in the archives. she sneaks into the hanger bay (as Ava will, in another decade) to look at the ships, to touch them, remembering the desert and the podracers kicking up sand. storms sweeping in to eat the sun.

scowling when Shannon takes her lunch tray over to sit at the far end of Mary’s table, so she can wink at her.

and then, one day, looking up and finding her beautiful.

after that they sit next to each other. binary stars slipping into orbit, trading from tray-to-tray; blue milk for the strawberry one. Mary eating Shannon’s greens when the jedi look away.

Mary growing closer almost against her will to this whirlwind of a girl. how she spars in the early morning with the empty air. she wakes up early to watch, pretending it's the dawn that draws her down, peering around a pillar, stunned at the grace of Shannon pivoting through the air, flipping over imaginary opponents.

asking her, as they perch on a balcony to watch the sunset over the endless cityscape, “why did you bother with me?”

Shannon has her face pressed sleepily into Mary’s shoulder. she plays with the hem of her tank top, “what d’you mean?”

“it just… seemed like you wanted to know me before you even knew me.”

“i did.”

Mary, turns her head, looking at the profile of Shannon curled up against her. warm. “yeah, but why?”

“i don’t know. i just had a feeling.”

they go together to Ilum, to get their kyber crystals, running through the icy cave systems. Shannon helps Mary when they climb and Mary clutches a half-conscious Shannon to her chest when they fall into freezing water. “i got you.”

“i k-k-know.��� through chattering teeth, Mary letting Shannon slip her cold hands under her shirt for warmth. a wicked smile in the ice-warped dimness. "s-s-score."

saber fights late at night with blue offshoots of light dancing around their bodies. green sparks shattering against the stars. laying there tangled in their exhaustion, always drawing even. Mary kissing Shannon’s forehead, looking at their lightsabers sitting side-by-side. blue and green.

“we should kiss.” Shannon says this out of nowhere with the air of someone who has been thinking about it for a long time.

she’s half-draped over Mary’s chest, head on her ribs. “i can hear your heart,” she adds, when Mary loses the ability to speak.

Shannon sits up, turns. she’s about to say something when Mary lurches up, takes her by the jaw.

they kiss, and nothing is ever the same again.

[remediesremedy]

❤️ anon. A qsmp related ask I keep thinking about the school quackity made and how it wasn't often used so how about

Qsmp! Reader becoming a teacher with quackity (not knowing quackity true intention) but often doing fun activity and maybe even a defense lesson when the island is getting dangerous.

I just wanted a bit more school shenanigans, but I did love Biden trolling quackity.

welcome on in ❤️ anon, im so glad you’ve travelled and found my silly little tumblr.

QSMP! teacher

-being the second teacher of the school wasn’t hard work, they were all angels, to you anyway. your shared classes with quackity were full of suppressed laughs as chayanne had a strong dislike for your teaching partner, throwing pencils at him when he was writing on the board, or out right hitting him. you didn’t know the full extent as to why Chayanne did that, but you knew he had good reasoning, his grudges were to be held seriously, as you knew one of his fathers, Phil, was a man true to his word and grudges.

-you taught the kids painting, and creative writing, you sang to them and read to them, encouraging them to read any genre they wanted. the amount of fantasy books revolving around dragons that you had were now entirely gone, the eggs were curious after all, with no dragon mother around anymore, no one had any idea what sort of dragon they would become.

-along with the creativities, you taught them self défense and how to hold their own, you knew quackity was almost entirely useless in combat. it was pretty obvious from the fact chayanne could ruffle his feathers.

it started off small, teaching the kids strategies on how to get away, how to disarm. but after a while, the eggs became hungry, hungry to fight. they were all unanimously sick of being defended by their parents, they wanted to fight beside them, without being a liability. you were hesitant, but as best and less dangerous as you could, you taught them. you taught the kids how to knock entities out, how to break bones with clean slices, how to stun someone, and in some instances, in only emergencies. how to do a quick and clean, and mostly humane kill.

Tallulah had been lying to her father, about what she was doing at school, she knew he didn’t want her to fight, but she had to, for herself. and as much as Chayanne was strong and skilled, Tullulah didn’t want to be defenceless, always waiting for a knight in shining armour, it left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Dapper loved learning to fight, it was more material to mess around with his uncle foolish, to get on his nerves and escape, or to taunt his uncle because Dapper’s new tricks were too advanced for him. You remember spotting Bad peeking in on your lessons a few times, studying dapper, most likely seeing if you were teaching him right. Bad would have your head if your fighting and self defence classes were void and null.

you often caught Leo on her communicator, talking to their father’s. you saw glimpses of messages from foolish varying from, “kick dappers ass” or “you’re the best fighter outta all of em”. And messages from vegetta were always so sweet, “you are so good hija! tu son muy bien :D”. it warmed your heart to see, but you always had to remind the kid that the more she got distracted, the less she learnt.

whenever quackity did bravely step into one of your lessons, some had beelined to him to show him what you taught them. despite your objections, The other teacher was floored in seconds, with eggs triumphantly standing on his. “c’mon guys.” you grinned, gaining their attention once again, “you’re really wasting your awesome skills on someone who’s strength is equivalent to a worm?” you laughed.

Quackity had pulled you aside after class to ask for lessons, turns out, being called a worm had given him motivation to not be useless in a fight.