#not good but THIS SCENE WAS A NIGHTMARE TO COLOUR

[baifengxis]

SOFIA WYLIE & JOSHUA BASSETT in HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL THE MUSICAL THE SERIES 4.05

[clumsycapitolunicorn]

GABRIEL & BEELZEBUB | GOOD OMENS

[undiscovered-horizon]

Put it on me - Roronoa Zoro x Reader

SUMMARY: A shared stash of moonshine leads to you pouring your heart out to Zoro. Despite his rather cold exterior, he takes your words seriously and asks you to put some of your burden on him if it ever gets too heavy.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.8k

Brought to you by my obsession with this painfully relatable song:

“Save some for me.”

Zoro’s voice wakes you up from the trance. You’ve been mindlessly drinking and reminiscing about the fight for what had to be at least two hours now. Enough time to slur your words and muddy your thoughts but the latter, as welcome as it would be, doesn’t seem to come. Flashes of scenes and echoes of voices still haunt you.

The swordsman nudges the axe you used to crack open the barrel. Quite crude but it works as it should - both a plug and a tap, depending on the blade's position. A spicy, dry stench fills the air as Zoro pours himself some of the dark-coloured moonshine.

He takes a large swing of the mysterious alcohol and winces. Very unlike him. A troubled cough escapes his chest.

“What is this?” he asks.

“The nightmare of hangovers yet to pass, I like to call it.” Used to the questionable taste of the beverage or simply numb due to your current state of light intoxication, you’re unbothered as you take another sip. The liquor burns your throat right down to your stomach. You can almost feel it wreaking havoc on your organism. Good. “We’re both alive and not blind, so definitely not methanol. Maybe it tastes like mouldy socks but it gets the job done.”

Zoro sits down on the ground next to you. His body is suspiciously close to yours, thigh to thigh and shoulder to shoulder, but you’ve grown used to it. It’s an open secret between the two of you - he’s allowing both himself and you this kind of intimacy as long as it remains unaddressed. If it did, he’d have to admit he’s not as aloof towards you as he likes to make himself look and that is not something Roronoa Zoro has the courage to confess.

“Why are you drinking alone?”

“I’m not. You’re here,” you say as you gently poke his arm.

He chuckles and shakes his head. Zoro takes another sip and winces again but not as much as before. The ‘mouldy socks’ flavour is growing on him. Or maybe it’s the alcohol content?

“You can’t fool me,” he says in a low, serious tone. “Something’s on your mind.”

Zoro looks at you out of the corner of his eyes. His gaze is bright, perceptive. Even if you try, you can’t lie and convince him that everything’s in order. It seems that Zoro already knows your mood is foul, just can’t quite put his finger on the why. For a man who claims to be unbothered and uncaring, he sure does spend a lot of time and energy and studying your little habits and quirks. One might even say he appears to have a particular affinity for you.

“I ate shit back in the village,” you mumble without looking at him. You almost puke bolting down the rest of the dark moonshine. “Complete failure. Embarrassing doesn’t cover even half of it.”

Stumbling over the air and your own feet, you get up and pour yourself another cup of alcohol. You can see Zoro’s troubled gaze following your movements but he doesn’t say anything or try to stop you, although he’s sure you’ve had enough of strong drinks for the night.

“You did fine,” he says awkwardly. Despite meaning his words, niceties still have a problem making it through his throat. “Aside from leaving your left flank wide open but you’d have to die and be reborn to stop doing that.”

Sitting back down next to Zoro, you lose your balance and fall on your backside. Some of the moonshine spills and soaks your shirt. You don’t care about the stain for now but you surely will in the morning when the putrid smell fills your bedroom and refuses to be washed out.

“It was everything but fine,” you scold him.

Surprised, Zoro looks at you with furrowed eyebrows. Never before has he seen you so hung up about mistakes. Normally, you’d shrug and laugh and just say something along the lines of “shit happens, we’ll be better next time”. Still, no matter how much he racked his brain, he simply couldn’t think of anything in particular that could get you like that. Nothing about the day and its battles stands out to him.

“Nami getting hurt was my fault,” you admit. “Luffy and Usopp too. Shit, everything was my fault.” Out of frustration, you rub your face with your free hand.

“Nonsense,” he easily dismisses your self-blame. “You couldn’t have known about the whole human-turned-arsenal crap.” Zoro takes another swing of the mysterious moonshine. This time, he doesn’t wince or cough. Mouldy socks are beginning to taste like champagne. “I don’t think anyone could,” he adds quietly.

You hit the floor with a clenched fist.

“But I did, Zoro,” you drone your words. The image of the pirate captain is clear as day before your eyes. “That’s the thing. The moment I saw that man I knew something was wrong. He moved in a strange way and the way his clothes fit him… It was right there, in front of me. And I was blind like a drunk bat stuck in a pile of cow dung.”

“Hunch isn’t exactly the best strategy. You might as well have been wrong about him and attacked an innocent man.”

“Well, he wasn’t innocent, was he, Zoro?” The anger is rising within you. Why wouldn’t he just accept your fault? Why is he so frustratingly stubborn at putting the blame elsewhere? “I could have prevented all of this or at least given us an opportunity to prepare before Usopp got half of his bones broken with a cannonball. And all of this, Nami nearly dead, because when my moment came, I failed. I hesitated. I questioned my judgment. Like I always do.”

The wooden floor is hit yet again when you look for a way to let out your anger.

“I can’t believe I’m the one saying this, but,” Zoro makes a pause and clears his throat,” you’re being too hard on yourself.”

A silence falls between you. 

The air in the cramped storage room is stuffy, soaking with a plethora of strong smells: damp wood, smoked fish, the dark liquor you’re drinking with the swordsman, aged cheeses that Sanji seems to be a fan of, roasted coffee beans… But all of those aromas are strangely comforting to you, the smells that remind you of a gathering of adventurous underdogs that have grown to be a family.

A gathering that you’ve almost killed today with your incompetence.

“Truthfully, I wish I was like you,” you finally break the silence. Zoro gives you a questioning look. “You never fail, always prepared and ready to fight. Even when you do make mistakes, which is rare might I add, you can prevent anyone else from getting hurt because of you. I wish I had the power to always do the right things and do them well. When will a day come when I finally know how to act? What to do? I make the same stupid mistakes over and over again and nothing seems to change no matter how hard I try. Maybe I’m just broken and you lot are doomed for hanging around me.” For a moment, you look into your cup. Your reflection in the dark beverage is rippling, making your face hardly recognizable. Just like when you compare who you are to who you should be. “At least in my mind, in my fantasies, I'm the hero that saves me,” you whisper to yourself and down the rest of your drink. It’s easier to be delusional when you can’t string a coherent sentence.

The realization hits Zoro like a derailed train. Of course he’s never seen you get hung up over your mistakes - you’ve been holding it inside, beating yourself up away from everyone’s eyesight. Your otherwise happy-go-lucky exterior is a mere facade, the face of someone you’d like to be. And the more you realize it’s not your true face, the more upset you get. How long have gone holding yourself to an impossible ideal? Hating yourself for being anything but perfect and imposing?

How heavy is the real burden on your shoulders?

"I'll do it for you,” he offers quietly.

Your confused gaze meets the confident glint in his eyes. He looks sure of himself - more certain than he normally is. A smile threatens to pull up one corner of his lips.

"Do what?" you ask.

"I'll be the hero that saves you."

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips and echoes throughout the small storage closet. The sound bounces off the wooden walls and comes back to you with a certain depth and delay, making you feel as though it’s the world laughing at you and the poor sod that offers to help you - you don’t hold hands with someone who easily catches on fire, burning everything around them. That’s just stupid.

“Thanks but that still makes me the world’s biggest loser who can’t put the money where their mouth is and is stuck in a perpetual cycle of doom.”

You look away, staring ahead, but Zoro’s eyes linger on you. Sure, he can fight pirates and animals and fishmen and all the strange horrors lurking in the world but how in hell is he going to fight something immaterial? How powerless he feels with three swords at his side and yet no way to fight the foul-tongued beast in the back of your head.

"Just put it on me," he presses on. "If you need help, put it on me. If you're going through Hell, put it on me.” Then, to your surprise, he firmly grabs your hand, squeezing it in a meaningful manner. “Seriously."

You try to wiggle your palm out of his hold but it proves useless - his grip is iron, although not painful. No matter how much you’re enjoying this uncharacteristic intimacy, you know better than to get used to it. Zoro deserves better than to be the victim of your ricochet.

“You’ve got enough on your head already,” you say in a stern voice. “My own bullshit is the last thing you need.”

For the first time in weeks, Roronoa Zoro smiles. It’s not a smile of amusement, of being entertained. No, it’s a smile of seeing something, or someone, he holds dear. In other words, it’s not his mind that rejoices but his very heart and soul.

“I want to worry about you,” he confesses.

Tears are prickling at your eyes and you’re doing everything you can to keep them from falling. Alas, you’re quite far from sober and self-control is not an ability within your grasp. Your face feels hot as teardrops slowly roll down your cheeks.

A bitter scoff leaves your lips. “It will be an unending horror.”

“I’m not afraid,” he reassures you casually. “And we’re in the middle of the sea. I’ve got time.”

Hesitantly, you rest your head against his chest. Zoro welcomes the gesture, letting go of your hand and putting his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to himself.

[your-bestamericangirl]

Midnight Love || ch. 3 - white ferrari

Paige Bueckers x Uconnwbb!reader

previous: ch.2 - golden || next: .4 - april || masterlist

a/n: not proofread sorry baes <3

now playing: slow dancing in the dark by joji

She was sat on her bed, the passing clouds cast fleeting shadows over her room, enveloping her in a familiar wave of frustration. Throughout (Y/n)'s life, there had been countless instances where she wished she could freeze time, if only for a moment. In her experience, time never seemed to align in her favour; nothing ever happened at the 'right time,' and she often had to work tirelessly to make things happen. Unfortunately, her life hadn't witnessed any miracles yet, and there seemed to be no signs of any on the horizon to rescue her.

Currently, the clock displayed 5:47 PM.

A river of clothing continued to spill out of (Y/n)’s wardrobe, forming several piles scattered across her floor. Various textures and colours now adorned every crevice of her room. What started as simple 'yes,' 'no,' and 'maybe' piles quickly multiplied into categories like 'yes-if-the-weather-stays-nice' or 'maybe-but-it-would-look-better-if-my-hair-was-up'. Defeated, (Y/n) slumped from her bed to the floor. Choosing an outfit wasn’t a decision to be taken lightly in this context.

5:50 PM

Now would’ve been the perfect moment for her first miracle.

As she stared at the chaotic array of clothing before her, she couldn't help but feel a sense of unease creeping in. It wasn't just the prospect of selecting the right outfit; it was the nagging uncertainty about the evening itself, looming on the horizon like an unanswered question. After all, it wasn't like she was getting dressed up for media day, it was just the rest of the team. She found herself second-guessing the decision to go at all. With a heavy sigh, (Y/n) pushed herself off the floor, resolving to make a decision one way or another. As she stood there amidst the scattered clothes, (Y/n) tried to rack her brain for what had compelled her to agree to this outing in the first place.

***That morning

"And good Lord, right then and there, I wished I could’ve just gotten killed earlier on when I was in that shark tank because my mom appeared, mad as hell, and was ready to slap the shit outta me-”

Absentmindedly, (Y/n) hummed in agreement as her eyes scanned the fully stocked shelves. The aroma of freshly baked bread from the nearby bakery section wafted through the air, making (Y/n)'s stomach growl in protest at its emptiness. For the past four aisles, KK had been recounting her so-called horrifying dream from the night before, all from inside their shopping cart. While the first 30 seconds had been captivating, (Y/n) soon realized that KK was far from done. This dream had been so 'emotionally and mentally impactful' that KK felt compelled to act out her car chase scene, resulting in her abandoning the cart. After the fateful crash, the two found themselves with a worker trailing them from behind, ready to intervene with KK’s boisterous antics if needed.

The restock of the week was greatly needed. With the pantry, kitchen, and fruit bowl left with nothing but dust, both girls’ moods had increasingly deteriorated from the day before. As KK continued to recount her experience, (Y/n) was left with the task of finding what they needed. “Mhmm, sounds traumatic speaking of that. What else do we need?”

KK gave her a look. “Yeah, it was. Thank you for your consideration.”

 “Always for you. But you didn’t answer my question—what else do we need?”

Realizing that KK couldn’t wring out any more sympathy from (Y/n), she shifted her focus from recounting her painful nightmare to recalling the items on the grocery list she conveniently left at home—a detail she kept from the older girl.

“Uh, okay damn. I think like… meat?” 

The cart suddenly jerked to a halt, catching KK off guard. She lurched forward, instinctively steadying herself on the shopping cart. The harsh fluorescent lighting overhead felt too intense for the early morning, casting stark shadows across the aisles. 

KK turned around to face her roommate, ready to berate her for the sudden maneuver. However, the words of distaste dissolved on her tongue as she beheld (Y/n)'s expression. The older girl stood before her, eyes closed, brows furrowed in the middle, teetering between disbelief and strained patience. KK would be grateful to come out of this conversation unscathed.

(Y/n)'s tone was short, “KK.”

“Yes, ma’am?”

With a deep inhale, (Y/n) gripped the shopping cart, her fingers tightening around the metal handle as she suppressed the urge to vent her frustration. Swallowing back all the profanities that came to mind, she managed a strained smile. 

“What type of meat?”

“You know, like, bruschetta… maybe some bacon-”

“Maybe?” (Y/n) raised an eyebrow, her patience waning.

KK chuckled, the sound bouncing off the fluorescent-lit aisles. “Nah, just kidding. We definitely need bacon. And also… Oh shit… Ice?”

(Y/n) blinked, the abrupt shift in conversation catching her off guard. “...Ice? KK, are you good? Because last time I checked, you were the one who brought up meat in the first place.”

In response, KK stood up from her position in the shopping cart, the metal rattling as she shifted her weight. “No look, it’s Ice.”

Following KK’s gaze, she then spotted Ice Brady in the next aisle. The 6’3 forward struggled to fit numerous bags of chips into her shopping basket, her arms stretched to their limits.

With a resigned sigh, (Y/n) began to maneuver the cart containing KK towards Ice's location. The wheels squeaked in protest against the linoleum floor, the rhythmic sound echoing in the bustling store. Despite her being a D1 athlete, she found herself growing weary of playing the role of chauffeur for her friend. Yet, as she glanced at KK’s expectant expression, she knew there was no escaping it.

“Ice Brady," KK sang, her arms outstretched in a theatrical gesture as the cart rolled to a stop. The spectacle drew the attention of nearby shoppers, who paused to witness the unfolding scene, transfixed by the unexpected drama. "Would you care for some assistance today?"

Ice, caught off guard by the flamboyant greeting, turned her attention from the bags of chips to KK's infectious smile. Amusement danced in her eyes as she surveyed the scene before her. With a nod of acknowledgment to (Y/n), who was still navigating the cart into a suitable parking spot, Ice responded, "I mean, if you hopped out of the cart, I could put my stuff in, but I wouldn’t want to trouble your highness."

“Oh!” KK’s hands came together in childish glee, pleased by Ice’s answer, “How considerate of you, but it's alright, I’ve been feeling courteous today.”

“So now you’re feeling ‘courteous’?” (Y/n) deadpanned as she made her way around the shopping cart across from Ice. As KK made her stellar attempt to climb out of the cart gracefully, (Y/n) stood behind her to help lift her out, “I’ve literally been pushing you around all morning, babes.” 

She then made her way over toward ice to give assistance with the various chip bags enough to feed a family for christmas dinner. 

“So,” KK started her smile towards Ice, selectively choosing to ignore her roommate’s comment “what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

“Y’know, working had to feed the kids, and all that. You guys sure eat a lot” 

“Wait,” KK gaped, “This is all for us?”

“Have you checked the group chat?” Ice questioned. In fact, they had not. Though she had been added days prior, (Y/n) had decided to keep her distance from that group chat. The two girls turned to look at each other, proceeded by KK quickly checking her phone.

Soon enough, her eyes ignited from within. “Hell yeah, party time,” she sang.

“K, you’re being dramatic, it’s literally just the team,” Ice laughed.

“Theres a hangout tonight?” (Y/n) questioned, her stomach forming knots at the thought of being in a room with all of the UConn Women’s Basketball team.

“Yup, everyone, including you two, are coming over."

(Y/n) glanced between KK and Ice, her expression shifting to one of mild apprehension. "Do I have a choice?" she asked, her voice laced with a hint of resignation.

Both KK and Ice exchanged a knowing look before simultaneously replying, "Nope."

6:15 pm

During her first official collegiate-level game freshman year, (Y/n) led her team to a resounding victory, later that night earning her the coveted title of 'The People’s Princess' of the NCAA.

Beneath the blaring lights of the stadium, (Y/n) was radiant. It was a moment she had long envisioned, the culmination of years of relentless dedication and unwavering determination. With her eyes gleaming and her words flowing with confidence, she effortlessly captivated the reporter and everyone in attendance. Her presence seemed to cast a spell over the crowd, drawing them in with her infectious smile and undeniable talent.

In the weeks that followed, (Y/n)'s reputation soared to new heights. However, amidst the high, a subtle unease began to gnaw at her. She quickly realized that the pedestal on which she had been placed came with its own set of challenges.

Despite her remarkable achievements on the court, she found herself confined by the weight of expectations. The public's perception of her became increasingly polarized, with praise often overshadowed by harsh criticism. She was both celebrated and scrutinized for her gentle demeanour, her commanding presence, and even her choice of attire.

The constant contrast between adoration and disdain left her feeling unsettled, she was constantly walking on a tightrope between two worlds. Over time, she became acutely aware of the need to separate her on-court persona from her everyday life, a process that had equally drained but benefited her.

Yet, as she immersed herself deeper into the complexities of her newfound fame, (Y/n) couldn't shake the nagging feeling that appearance had become everything.  In a world where perception was predominant, she grappled with the notion that her worth was measured not by her character or accomplishments, but by the image she projected to the world.

All this to say that unfortunately, (Y/n) had been second-guessing tonight’s event over and over again.  Only two individuals had truly seen beyond the facade she meticulously maintained: KK and, in a distant past, Paige.

As (Y/n)'s life flashed before her eyes, her gaze fixed on the door before her, its weathered surface worn by years of use. The soft hum of chatter from beyond the door drifted through the air, mingling with the faint scent of pizza and anticipation that hung in the hallway. Each groove in the wood seemed to whisper secrets, a silent witness to her inner turmoil.

She took a deep breath, her fingers tracing the edges of the doorframe. The cool touch of the wood against her skin sent a shiver down her spine, a tangible reminder of the reality awaiting her on the other side. What would they think of her? Did she look presentable enough? Doubts gnawed at her confidence, threatening to unravel the facade she had carefully constructed.

With a steadying exhale, (Y/n) pushed open the door, crossing the threshold into the unknown. The soft click of the latch echoed in her ears, signaling her descent into the realm of uncertainty.

The scene unfolded before her, intimate and genuine, a tapestry woven with the bonds of teammates. The UConn Women’s Basketball team occupied every corner of Ice’s condo, their laughter mingling with the warmth of the confined space. Despite the inviting atmosphere, (Y/n) couldn’t shake the feeling of being an intruder in this vibrant gathering.

With each step forward, (Y/n) sensed the weight of her decision. The events of this evening would undoubtedly shape her relationship with the team for the rest of the year.

Luckily, no one had noticed her entrance yet. As (Y/n) scanned the room, she searched for KK among the multitude of bodies, most of them towering over her. Despite her efforts, KK remained elusive. Frustration etched her features as uncertainty gnawed at her. She caught her reflection in a nearby mirror, regarding herself with unease.

With a sigh, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. Lost in her inner turmoil, (Y/n) failed to notice the door behind her slowly swinging open.

As the door swung shut, the breeze proceeded to cause a shift among her hair. Shoving away all distractions, (Y/n) straightened her back, took a deep breath and prepared for her next step further into the house.

“You gonna move? Or do you need help, princess?” Paige's voice cut through the air, shattering (Y/n)'s concentration. All prior thoughts dissolved from her mind at those words, her focus instantly shifting to the unexpected encounter with Paige.

Despite the familiarity of seeing Paige's face plastered on banners around UConn, the proximity still rattled her. She had thought she'd grown accustomed to it, but the reality of facing Paige in person was an entirely different experience.

She had an image to maintain, (Y/n) wouldn’t shy away at simple words anymore.

With a subtle steeling of her resolve, she turned to face the taller girl, meeting Paige's gaze head-on. Though she found herself looking up at Paige, she refused to give any ground in their exchange.

The tension between them crackled in the air, each word laden with unspoken history and unresolved emotions. (Y/n)'s jaw tightened, but she refused to let Paige see any hint of vulnerability. She squared her shoulders and held Paige's gaze with unwavering determination.

"No need for assistance, thanks," (Y/n) replied evenly, her voice betraying none of the turmoil swirling inside her. "I can handle myself just fine."

Paige chuckled, taking a step closer to her. "Of course you can, Your Highness," she quipped, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "But it wouldn't hurt to let someone lend a hand every now and then."

(Y/n) bristled at the implication but forced herself to remain composed. "I'll keep that in mind," she replied curtly, stepping aside to let Paige pass.

Paige's lips quirked into a knowing smirk, but she didn't press the issue further. 

While Paige moved past her, (Y/n) couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that lingered in the air. Despite her best efforts to maintain her facade of confidence, there was a vulnerability in her interactions with Paige that she couldn't seem to shake.

As (Y/n) made her way further into the room, she found herself enveloped in a warm atmosphere. Smiles greeted her from every direction, genuine and welcoming, easing the tension that had knotted in her stomach.

“Damn, girl, I was just about to check if you had been kidnapped! What took you so long.” Exclaimed KK as she searched every inch of (Y/n). The younger girl’s gaze soon turned towards Paige suspiciously suddenly recounting the day prior, eyes snapping back and fourth. But then quieter KK added, “Hm, okay, I see, I see…”

A chorus of laughter bubbled up around them at KK’s dramatic statement, the sound infectious and light-hearted. (Y/n) couldn't help but smile in response, the weight of earlier uncertainties melting away in the warmth of their acceptance.

Any lingering tension between them dissipated in the face of the group's genuine warmth, replaced by a sense of belonging and shared purpose.

After making her rounds, (Y/n) went to sit by the couch, where a mini circle had formed as the team watched Azzi and Aubrey in their death match of Mario Cart. The room was filled with the rhythmic clicking of controllers and the occasional whoops and groans as players navigated their virtual karts through the colourful tracks. Azzi and Aubrey were locked in intense concentration, their eyes glued to the screen as they jostled for the lead. The competitive banter between them added to the lively atmosphere, punctuated by bursts of laughter and playful teasing from the rest of the team. (Y/n) leaned back, taking in the scene with a contented smile.

As the night progressed, (Y/n) found herself settling in, enjoying the easy connection of the team. Their genuine willingness to engage with her put her at ease, dispelling any lingering apprehension. After wrapping up a conversation with Ashlyn about her cats back at home, (Y/n) decided to take a brief respite. She excused herself and made her way to the kitchen, feeling a headache creeping in as result of the loud atmosphere. 

The cool touch of the glass along her fingers was well welcomed as (Y/n) took a sip of water. From her position in the kitchen, she had a comforting view of the apartment. As her gaze swept from Azzi and Aubrey fighting about wins and losses, to KK and Aaliyah filming their third tiktok of the night, her eyes landed on Paige. 

Obviously, people change as they grow up. Physically, Paige was taller. Her dark blond roots peaked out like a halo. But, the space between them seemed to grow as well. 

With a sigh, she turned to grab another sip of water. The kitchen, bathed in the soft glow of overhead lights, hummed with activity. The tiled floor gleamed underfoot, a testament to the cleanliness maintained in the shared space.

Unfortunately, right as she turned, she bumped into the one and only Nika Muhl.

“Oh, shit,” (Y/n) jumped, the water in her glass sloshing dangerously close to the brim.

Before she could react, the collision resulted in the water spilling on Nika, the droplets now flowing from Nika’s shirt onto the tiles below. (Y/n)'s heart sank at the sight

“I’m so sorry, let me help you,” she stammered, scrambling for a nearby towel, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Nika waved off (Y/n)'s apology with a chuckle, her easygoing demeanour putting her at ease. "Don’t worry about it, (Y/n). Accidents happen." Nika took the towel she offered and dabbed at her shirt, trying to contain the spill.

(Y/n) winced, feeling guilty. "I didn't mean to, I was just lost in thought."

Nika leaned against the counter, a small smile playing on her lips. "No harm done. Do you want to talk about whatever was on your mind?"

(Y/n) hesitated, not wanting to burden Nika with her concerns. But Nika's warm gaze encouraged her to speak up. "Yeah, I'm just trying to find my place with the team, you know? Sometimes it feels like I'm still the new kid."

Nika nodded in understanding, crossing her arms casually. "I get that. But trust me, (Y/n), you fit right in. Everyone likes you."

(Y/n) felt a warmth spread through her chest at Nika's words, and she couldn't help but blush. "Thanks, Nika. That means a lot."

Nika chuckled, nudging (Y/n) playfully. "Hey, don't mention it. And you know what? Even Paige couldn't stop talking about how excited she was when she found out you were joining."

(Y/n)'s eyes widened in surprise at the mention of Paige. "Really?"

Nika nodded, a knowing smile on her face. "Yep, really. It seems you’re quite the People’s Princess, (Y/n)."

Feeling a mix of emotions, (Y/n) leaned against the counter beside Nika, both of them watching the group outside the kitchen enjoying themselves. The sounds of laughter and chatter filled the air, creating a comforting backdrop to their conversation.

 However, (Y/n)'s attention was soon drawn to the sight of everyone getting up and preparing to leave. "Where is everyone going?" she asked, confusion evident in her voice.

Nika followed her gaze, her expression turning playful. "I guess it’s about that time now.” Nika then stood up to trail the team out of the apartment. “Team tradition."

Now playing: white ferrari by frank ocean

The night enveloped the surroundings in a tranquil embrace, casting a serene aura over the playground. The soft glow of the moon and stars illuminated the path ahead, casting gentle shadows on the playground equipment.

Amidst the laughter of her companions, (Y/n) found herself immersed in the peaceful ambiance of the night. As she followed behind the group, she couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over her. The cool night air brushed against her skin, carrying with it the faint scent of freshly cut grass and distant city lights.

With each step, (Y/n) felt a weight lifting from her shoulders, replaced by a quiet sense of serenity. She took in the sight of her newfound teammates friends ahead, their silhouettes dancing against the night sky, and allowed herself to be relax the moment, grateful for the new joys she would encounter with this team.

As they made their way onto the playground, the flash of red and blue metal bars pierced the air, bringing back memories of a time when playing D1 basketball was just a distant dream.

Following close behind, (Y/n) ended her destination at a swing set that shone silver and gold against the night sky. The chains groaned in response of her weight, their link rattling together, forming a melody long forgotten. As her world slowly swung on an axis, (Y/n) couldn’t help but finally be at ease. 

As (Y/n) allowed herself to sink into the comforting rhythm of the swing, she became aware of a presence nearby. Glancing over her shoulder, she spotted Paige making her way towards the swing set, her silhouette cutting through the darkness like a shadow. Despite the tension that often lingered between them, there was something oddly comforting about Paige's proximity in that moment. With a silent invitation, (Y/n) watched as Paige settled onto the swing beside her, the chains creaking softly in protest under their combined weight.

For a moment, there was only the soft whip of the wind that passed by (Y/n)’s ears, occasionally broken by the rattling chains and the laughter that drifted from the playground. Though things between the two girls were complicated, (Y/n) missed their time together. 

With a sigh, her eyes searched the distant lights above. Her mind filled in the blanks and connected the dots of the stars in the skies. Unbeknownst to (Y/n), Paige had been doing the same since she arrived.

“Ursa Major,” Paige murmured, the name of the constellation unintentionally slipping from her lips.

At the sudden break in the comforting silence, (Y/n) glanced over to her, giving her full attention. 

"Is it still your favorite?" Paige asked, her voice soft with genuine curiosity, her gaze falling to the side to find (Y/n)’s surprised expression within the darkness.

“Yeah,” (Y/n) spoke softly, her mind filled with the countless nights they searched the sky together. An unexplainable wave of yearning and sadness washed over her senses, “it is.”

Paige then turned her attention back to the sky above, all while (Y/n) was still processing the fact that she remembered her favourite constellation.

“You still remember?” (Y/n) asked, the question slipping from her mind out to the world before she could stop herself.

Paige felt her blood rush scarlet. “Yeah, you know… how could I forget?”

Paige’s answer stunned her. She assumed that since they parted ways, Paige would’ve also tried to erase the memories from her mind. For (Y/n), it had been too much to remember.

Paige's response  lingered in the air, the weight of its meaning hanging heavy between them.

Paige hesitated, her gaze searching (Y/n)'s face for any sign of recognition. "Do you ever miss it?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

(Y/n)'s heart skipped a beat at the question, her mind racing as she struggled to find the right words. "Miss what?" she replied, her voice barely audible over the gentle rustle of leaves and the soft glow of the stars.

Paige's gaze softened. "Us," she admitted, her voice tinged with vulnerability.

A whirlwind of emotions swept through (Y/n) at Paige's question. Her chest tightened, and her breath caught in her throat. The weight of their shared history pressed down on her, threatening to overwhelm her fragile composure.

Yet, amid the turmoil of conflicting emotions, a flicker of longing ignited within her.

Everyday.

She wanted to respond.

I’ve never stopped missing us. 

She hadn’t expected such a question from Paige. Though she had been hoping, deep down, she knew that Paige might not have the same space for her in her world. After all, a sun doesn’t need a moon to survive.

Over time, their dynamic had shifted, revealing that (Y/n) relied more on Paige than the other way around. But those words brought into question whether (Y/n) had been wrong about them all along.

Her eyes swept to the side to meet Paige’s expectant gaze, her eyes reflecting the silver moonlight.

“Always.”

Neither Paige nor (Y/n) had been expecting the answer to be spoken. At the revelation, the corners of Paige’s lips curved into the slightest smile. 

As soon as the conversation started, silence drifted between them, The two girls drifted back into their quiet comfort. Only now, they both shared the same information. Possibilities of the upcoming sprung up into (Y/n)’s mind. Things would be different then she expected, but maybe that was a good thing.

(Deleted scene)

“Nah, Paige is occupied at the moment,” KK laughed, her voice carrying over the chatter of the group. With a deft swing from the monkey bars, she landed next to Aaliyah, where her phone was propped up to capture their talents. As they continued their antics, the live chat exploded with questions about (Y/n) after the idea of getting Paige on the stream was quickly shut down.

“Damn,” Aaliyah murmured, her eyes scanning the flood of messages, “y’all really love her, don’t you?”

A chorus of affirmative responses flooded the chat. Meanwhile, Azzi's voice cut through the background noise, calling both Aaliyah and KK over to witness her latest feat on the monkey bars. With a shared grin, the two girls left their spot, drawn by Azzi's infectious energy.

In the darkness of the night, the bottom right corner of the screen was illuminated just enough to make ou two silhouettes together on a swing set. The descovery sparked a flurry of speculation in the chat. Messages scrolled rapidly as viewers attempted to decipher the identities of the mysterious figures. Within moments, messages began pouring out as Paige and (Y/n) were finally identified.

(Y/n) and Paige: Sparks Fly on Live Stream

Fans were treated to an unexpected sight during teammate KK Arnold's recent live stream, as basketball stars (Y/n) (L/n) and Paige Bueckers made a joint appearance. Their presence together immediately set social media abuzz, with fans reigniting dating rumors that have followed the pair for years. Despite both athletes maintaining silence on the matter, the resurgence of speculation has divided fans, with some eagerly shipping the duo while others advocate for their privacy. As (Y/n) and Paige continue to focus on their careers, fans remain captivated by the possibility of a romantic connection between the two athletes.

a/n: yuhh chapter two done! sorry for the wait, it's been a tough week lmao! anyways, im begging you PLEASE LISTEN TO WHITE FERRARI WHILE READING THE NIGHT SCENE ITS SO GOOD

anyways, thanks for all the love and support you guys are the best, loving all the comments <333

also for future chapters, does anyone live in seattle? cuz mc is gonna be from there and i need a highschool that was good at basketball or just one in general. LOVE YALL SO MUCH SEE YOU NEXT TIME

taglist: @kenzie-luvzz , @juphey , @h34rtsformilli , @pinkandlilacroses , @i-bribri-i , @thatonemarvelfan03 , @girlokwhatever , @ihrtthotdads , @kc88888888 , @nfleditsrjustbetteridk , @imsobabygiirl , @vi0lentb3rry , @sejus-wife , @katemlk , @littlelesbianinternujung , @ktaerssoi , @evangelinexo , @c999sh

[starleska]

The Nightmare Picnic - Wally Darling x Reader

You're a brand new resident in the wonderful Welcome Home Neighbourhood, and it's the perfect day for the picnic! But your dear friend Wally Darling doesn't seem to be enjoying the fun. What will happen when you decide to try and cheer him up?

content warnings for: eye imagery, scopophobia, hypnosis, impossible physics, Eldritch, and unreality. go in assuming that Wally is a weird little guy, and you’re both terrified of and kind of enjoy that fact! 😉 you can also find this fic on my AO3. i hope you enjoy!! 

The day you learn how to love Wally Darling begins like any other.

It is a balmy day, the air soft and thick and dizzy with butterflies. The sun shines with relentless cheer, and nary a cloud can be seen in the sky. Such a day in the Neighbourhood cannot be spent languishing inside, and all your new neighbours think the same way. So, which lovely activity did they decide upon? Why, a picnic on the grass, of course!

The organisation of the event is efficient and cheerful. In no time, the lush meadow surrounding the outskirts of the Neighbourhood is replete with cosy blankets to lie on, fun games to play, and a plethora of delicious foods contributed by each neighbour. Luckily, you’d baked a whole tray of cupcakes the previous day, with the intent of handing them out when bumping into your neighbours going about their daily business. The cupcakes were a huge success; even the ever-curmudgeonly Frank, who always has something to complain about, graces you with a begrudging, “It’s good, I suppose,” when you hand him a vanilla cupcake topped with a green-icing butterfly.

'I needed this,’ you think as you look around at your new friends. You’ve only been a resident of the Neighbourhood for a few months, but in that time you’ve grown so close to its colourful cast of neighbours as if you’d known each other your whole lives. Right now, they’re dotted across the meadow, smiling and laughing without a care in the world: Howdy’s busy putting together an impossibly long string of daisy chains; Eddie and Sally peer into an origami fortune-teller and giggle at the results; Frank leans over a bush, studying a caterpillar, and Julie and Poppy clap and cheer whilst Barnaby entertains them with a juggling act.

It’s a gorgeous scene. Today, your heart is warm.

A small flash of yellow catches your eye. Of course, it’s an incomplete picture. You take in Wally, who sits cross-legged under the shade of a verdant apple tree. He’s holding an apple between both hands and staring at it intently, as if willing the fruit to communicate with him. It’s an odd expression - you aren’t used to seeing Wally in a state of concentration.

“Hey, Wally!” you call.

Wally looks up at you and smiles. He beckons you over.

“Hello,” says Wally, in his simple way. “I’m happy to see you.”

Oh, what a beautiful voice. Every time you hear Wally speak, it’s like the gentle lapping of his syllables sweep away your worries in a single wave.

As you get closer to Wally, you notice a few strands of his deep blue hair turning flyaway and giving in to the heat, curling away from the otherwise-immaculate pompadour and escaping the death-grip of his hairspray. He’s a little dishevelled elsewhere, too; Wally’s neckerchief is coming loose, and though he’s long since abandoned his cardigan, a stray button on his shirt remains stubbornly popped. You find yourself grinning. Wally takes such pride in his appearance that you never get to see him a little less than perfect.

“Same to you!” you say. “Aren’t you hungry? All the food’s down with the others.”

That unusually pensive look on Wally’s face deepens. He turns his eyes back to his apple. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” You rummage in your backpack and pull out a chocolate bar. “You’ve got to eat, bud. You not feeling so good?”

Wally takes the treat from you and examines it for a moment, as if the bar is a scientific curiosity. “That’s very nice of you…but this doesn’t work for me. You should keep it.”

When Wally hands the bar back, your fingers touch for the briefest moment, and a shiver works its way up your spine.

You don’t know when this… thing you have for Wally Darling began. Despite the countless nights you’ve spent desperately trying to focus on something, anything else, your thoughts inevitably return to the little yellow puppet-man and his catlike smile. There’s a strange magnetism to Wally which befits his profession as a television host; everything from the delicate way he handles his paintbrush, to his ridiculous affinity for apples, leaves you with a little more fondness than before. Wally has so much affection stored in one small body, and when you first met, you wondered how any person could love so much all at once.

But now, when you look at Wally, you understand.

“If you’re sure.” You pop the bar back into your bag and sit on the ground in front of Wally, mirroring his cross-legged pose. “The offer’s still there.”

“It’s tempting,” says Wally, now turning his apple over and over in his hands. “I’d like to know what would happen, if I tried. But Barnaby told me it isn’t worth the risk. I trust him to know.”

You have no idea what he’s talking about, but the look on Wally’s face is so uncharacteristically brooding that you don’t feel it’s polite to pry. Wally’s always been the drifting sort: those large, dewy eyes of his are perpetually lidded, and always seem to be gazing at something no one else can see. But Wally’s inattentiveness is usually matched with an infectious, excited kind of energy, bursting with nonsense and love.

Today, he almost looks sad. The idea makes you feel sick.

It occurs to you that this may be a personal issue, and Wally doesn’t know you well enough to discuss it. So you ask, “Do you want me to look away?”

Wally’s fingers still. To your surprise, the apple actually drops from his hands and rolls into the grass. You’ve never seen Wally mistreat an apple before - there must be something seriously wrong.

“Actually,” says Wally, now looking at you properly, “I’d like to try something.”

He gestures for you to shuffle closer. When you do, Wally reaches forward and takes hold of your forearms. You make a surprised noise, but Wally squeezes you, and fixes you with a smile full of reassurance and warmth. A rush of heat leaps into your cheeks, and you’re suddenly reminded of an interaction you had with another neighbour not too long ago.

It was only a week after you arrived in the Neighbourhood, and you were finally moving the last of your belongings into your home. All of your new neighbours had graciously donated their time to help you in some fashion, and you were overcome with gratitude. On that final day you were more than capable of doing the rest of the moving yourself, but your closest neighbour - the excitable Julie Joyful - volunteered to help with the last handful of delicate items. At first, you were unsure - Julie is a lovely girl and incredibly fun to be around, but so spirited that you feared for the safety of your items. But a good twenty minutes of allowing her to help with the least fragile of your boxes allayed all your fears: Julie moves with the grace of a ballerina, and the two of you soon had all your boxes stacked in your living room.

Burnt orange sunlight poured through the window, streaming soon-to-be-dusk and casting the wooden floorboards with a vibrant glow. You take a moment from the heavy lifting to look out the window. Across the lawn, you can make out a couple of your neighbours engaging in some game. Upon closer inspection, you realise it’s Wally and Barnaby, the former laughing and tossing a series of colourful balls for Barnaby to catch.

You watched as Wally swung his arm and threw a few of the balls a surprising distance, letting the large, spotted dog race off to retrieve them. Wally put his hands on his hips, as if exhausted by the exertion. He turned - and locked eyes with you. Wally’s face broke out into a huge grin, and he gave you a hearty wave. Feeling horribly embarrassed, you waved back, trying to ignore the painful squeezing of your heart. You’ve only known Wally a week, and yet you’re utterly charmed by everything he does.

A tug on your arm brought you back to the present: it’s Julie. She bats her long eyelashes at you, a knowing smile on her face.

“You like hiiiiim, ” she teased, her voice all sing-song.

“What?!”

You grabbed Julie by the shoulders and yanked her away from the window, as if Wally could somehow hear you both through sight. “No! I don’t know where you got an idea like that-”

“It’s okay, sweetie. You don’t need to pretend.”

Your face felt like it was on fire. You’d always been the careful type, ensuring your innermost thoughts and feelings stayed stuffed as far down as possible to keep you safe. But the Neighbourhood bred a kind of emotional honesty with which you were totally unfamiliar. Everyone is so exuberant, always wearing their hearts on their sleeves - some of them even literally, as plenty of your new neighbours wore outfits stitched with cute little hearts! Keeping a secret in the Neighbourhood felt wrong…even a secret crush on the silly little artist whose smile lit up your insides.

So, you give in. “How did you know?”

Julie giggles. She fishes in the pocket of her dress, and pulls out a daisy.

“I know a lot about flowers,” she explained, as she twirled the stem between her fingers. “What kinds grow in different meadows. How much sun and water and love they need to grow. They show it in their petals, and how they lean. People are a lot like that too.

“When you arrived, you looked…wilted. Like you’d been kept out of the sun for too long. I could see it, but didn’t want to ask why. I think everyone else could, too…and we all wanted to help a new friend who lost their colour.”

“You’ve all been so lovely to me,” you said, by way of thanks.

Julie nodded. “Sure we have! And it worked, for a little bit. But for a flower at the end of its days, even fresh soil, plenty of sun and lots of water can only do so much. Your petals seemed faded for good. And that’s okay. I just wanted you to be happy - whatever that looks like for you.”

You swallowed. “You see a lot, for a gardener.”

Julie smiled. “When you care for flowers, you learn to listen to their needs. Sometimes, you’ll have a flower who has everything in the world…but they’re still curling up, and shying away from the light.”

She pressed the daisy into your palm.

“Wally brings the colour back to your petals,” said Julie. “Do yourself a favour. Don’t hide from your sun.”

Another squeeze from Wally brings you out of your recollection. You suck in a deep breath, facing this new reality of Wally holding you, his fingers pleasantly warm and fuzzy.

“Close your eyes,” says Wally gently.

For anyone else, you would’ve paused - but for Wally, you comply immediately.

Slowly, you feel Wally’s hands slide down your arms to your hands. He threads his fingers through yours and holds them firm, so tight that you start to feel your blood thrumming from the pressure. Your hearing, sensitive now your sight is compromised, picks up the distant chatter of your neighbours, as well as the friendly sounds of nature at play. Your skin tingles, sweat-slicked from the heat and the nerves.

“I have a question,” says Wally, his voice wonderfully calm and soft.

“Yes?”

“Why do you eat?”

“Uh…” What kind of question was that? Wally is admittedly prone to posing questions that only a truly strange mind would think up, but this one is so baffling, you’re thrown entirely for a loop. “...So I don’t die, I guess?”

“Ha ha ha ha!” Wally’s unique, halting laugh almost startles you into opening your eyes. “You’re so funny. Okay. Do you know why I eat?”

This time, it takes you a little longer to answer. A simple enough question, surely with the exact same answer? But Wally’s voice has taken on a teasing, knowing edge - a sound you recognise from when he’s setting up a punchline. The question must be a trick. So you rack your brains, trying to think of all the times you’d seen Wally eat: where he was, what he was eating.

With your eyes still closed, you reach a strange realisation.

“I…I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat.”

A soft chuckle from Wally. “That’s right. You haven’t.”

Wally’s grip on your hand tightens. Strangely, a weak, static noise buzzes to life, seemingly from inside your skull. You shift, trying to locate the source, but Wally holds you in place. As the noise grows, the sounds of your friends fizzle out and die. It’s as if you’ve been placed on an invisible train and are moving steadily down the track, away from all the familiar sounds of your Neighbourhood - but you can’t feel the rumbling of the track, or hear the whistle of the wind.

“But…maybe you should.”

With Wally’s words the temperature noticeably drops, and gooseflesh breaks out on your arms. You shudder, wanting to open your eyes but finding that you can’t: your eyelids feel impossibly heavy. You’re stuck in place, pinioned to the grass (which you can no longer feel) as that buzzing sound inches up by the decibel, a nasty, steady crawl which leaves your brain awash in a sea of noise.

“Open your eyes.”

You do so.

And you can’t make sense of what you see.

The sky is gone. The tree is gone. The meadow is gone. Every detail from the Neighbourhood’s comforting landscape has evaporated, leaving nothing behind but a grayscale emptiness which fuzzes in and out like television static. Even the awful buzzing sound abruptly falls away, leaving your ears with nothing but the distant sound of an unseen tide.

Wally still sits in front of you, his hands grasping yours, but it’s like he’s sitting on nothing at all: somehow supported by a cushion of emptiness. It’s like the texture of the world has fallen out of reality.

Seized by vertigo, you tighten your grip on Wally’s hands. “What’s happening?!”

“Don’t worry,” says Wally. “You’re safe.”

“There’s nothing here,” you whisper. “Where is everyone?”

“Back Home,” says Wally. “They can’t see us right now. They’re not ready.” His smile turns coy. “But I think you are. Watch this.”

Wally reaches over and rustles in your backpack. Your heart crawls into your mouth; although you can see Wally’s hands in front of you, you can somehow still feel his hands holding both of yours, keeping you locked in place. You try to look down and make sense of this impossibility, but your eyes are stuck, glued to Wally’s face. You can only watch, terrified, as he takes out your chocolate bar and locks in his gaze.

Without warning, Wally’s eyes flare open, heavy lids drawing back and revealing the full size of his large, black pupils. Wally’s stare travels steadily down the chocolate bar, a focused intensity searing from his eyes like a laser. Somehow as he stares, bite marks are chunked out of the chocolate, as if some great invisible person is taking enormous chomps out of both the bar and wrapper. In seconds, the chocolate is gone.

Panic grips your chest, and you start to hyperventilate. The world tilts, and you’re scared you might actually puke. Wally blinks, his eyelids half-blanketing those pupils once more, and he looks at you with concern. When his eyes connect, your chest convulses with panic: a type of terror you’ve never experienced before threatening to claw its way out of your body and devour you whole.

“What happened?!”

“Oh, don’t be scared,” says Wally, his voice floating and cloudlike. “This is just how I eat.”

“How - did you - do - that?” you gasp.

“I’m not sure. I’ve always eaten this way.” Wally inclines his head in sympathy. “I am sorry if I’ve made you afraid. I usually only eat when others are blinking. That way, I don’t interrupt them. I don’t want to be rude."

You suck in a huge gulp of breath. “Wally, this is…impossible,” you manage. “I want to leave - I want to go Home-”

“You can’t.”

Wally shakes his head mildly from side to side, but his eyes seem to stay still, locked into the centre of his face. No matter how much you strain to move, those incredible eyes remain right in front of you, always at the same distance, never looking away - and never blinking. In your peripheral vision, you see Wally’s hand reach up towards your face. He cups your cheek. The sensation of feeling three arms belonging to a two-armed person on your body sends a rush of nausea through your throat. Wally strokes your skin with his thumb.

“You understand me so well,” says Wally. “You see me, don’t you?”

“I don’t understand.” Another wave of dizziness rises up, pushing behind your eyeballs. The sensation is the same as the pressure of allergies arising on a high pollen day - yet you can no longer smell the flowers of the meadow. You try again in vain to rip your gaze away from Wally’s, but you can’t - and you’re finding it harder and harder to keep your eyes open.

Wally’s thumb stops, resting in the dip of your cheek. “I love my friends, but they only see one part of me. The part they want to see. But you…”

His thumb trails to the edge of your lip.

“...you see all of me.”

You’re split in two. Your brain, the logical part of your thinking, is screaming at you to do anything - to move, to scream, to run as fast as you can into the nightmare emptiness and beg for help. But the other part of you - your traitorous, emotional heart - douses the runaway fire of your fear with the intoxication of Wally’s touch. You find yourself leaning into his hand, savouring how perfectly his cheek cups your palm, and the slight fuzz of his thumb teasing your lip.

“I do,” you whisper. Suddenly, your body relaxes, and you slump forward. You feel very tired. The panic which gripped your body only moments ago is now quashed, flattened into a fine layer of dust by the weight of Wally’s impossibly black eyes. Now your nervous system is nothing but the aftermath: the feeling of fight-or-flight chemicals settling into your bloodstream, leaving you weak and sluggish.

Now, Wally’s eyes are not a source of terror. They’re a blanket you wish to curl up beneath, and never wake up.

“I think you’re special, you know,” says Wally. “The way I feel when I’m around you is…different, than with the others. You’re the absolute most.”

Wally’s words settle over your brain like a dream. You watch, your eyes heavy and drained, as Wally brings his hands up to his chest and forms the shape of his heart with his fingers. You’re no longer scared of the physical contradictions of Wally holding your hands whilst signing his affection. It seems in this reality, Wally can have as many hands as he wants.

This is why Wally’s next question confuses you so:

“Do you think if our friends saw me like this…they’d run away?”

Wally’s words are becoming harder to process. The world around him tunnels. Even though you’re sure that you’re fixed in place, sitting on some immovable, textureless cushion, Wally’s eyes grow larger, encroaching evermore on your limiting field of vision. The longer you look, the more of Wally’s scleras are swallowed by his expanding pupils. Those blown, void-black pools seem to come with their own gravity, and you’re slipping into their inconceivable pull, ready to be strewn and stretched and ripped apart by their physics.

“Oh, Wally,” you try to say, but your tongue slackens, and his name comes out as, ‘Waaalllllyyyy.’ “We love you so much. You can’t make us run away.”

Wally smiles, and you think it’s the saddest thing you’ve ever seen.

“How I wish that were true.”

Suddenly, Wally’s eyes shift just the slightest bit to the left. The effect is like unsealing a pressure chamber. For a moment you are released from his eyes, and your brain and body scramble as one, free-falling and bracing to break against the ground with a hypnic jerk. However, Wally realises his mistake and grabs you by the shoulder - another impossible arm - and forces you to look back into his eyes.

“Shh. Don’t strain yourself. The more you resist, the worse you’ll feel.”

You blink rapidly, trying to reorient yourself in space. Wally’s touch grounds you again, holding you steady in this non-existent space. You try to reply, but your mouth now hangs open, jaw useless. Saliva collects in a pool under your tongue, but Wally still keeps his thumb at the edge of your lip, now rubbing soothing circles against your flesh.

“We don’t have much time,” says Wally. “But…thank you for this. You can’t know how much I appreciate you.”

The warm flush of his approval works its way through your unresponsive body. Your muscles contract, dopamine and serotonin coating your insides and bringing your fingers - still interlocked with Wally’s - into a sudden contraction. You force your mouth into a speech-ready shape, fuelled by his words and his touch and the sheer paradox of his being, and you try so desperately to say, ‘Wally, I love you- ’

But then he looks away.

The spell is broken. Like flipping to another television channel, the world around you snaps back into place in one vivid bound. All the colour, sounds and scents of the Neighbourhood re-enter your senses in one huge burst, and the force of it almost knocks you over. Wally - who is still holding your hands, just like before - keeps you steady, crushing your hands together like he would rather die than let go.

“Hey, you two!”

Looking away from Wally feels like ripping off a plaster. Your eyes alight on Julie trotting up the meadow’s slight incline, clutching a hotdog in one hand and a cooler in the other.

“Eddie wanted me to tell you we’re packing up,” Julie chirps. “Looks like a thunderstorm is coming.” She looks down at your hands, still intertwined with Wally’s, and grins. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Just some good old-fashioned fun,” says Wally, his voice impassive and gentle.

The ability for words has deserted you. You stare back at Wally, searching desperately for something supernatural in the darks of his eyes. Wally looks normal - as normal as a small, yellow puppet can - and his eyes are back to their half-lidded, sleepy-looking state. It takes a couple of nudges with his foot for Wally to bring you back to earth.

Wally lets go of your hands, and you can feel the blood pumping in the spaces between your fingers. You try standing up, but your legs are weak and wobbly, as if you’d just run a marathon while sitting in one spot. They would’ve collapsed beneath you, but Wally catches you before you slip. He hauls you up and loops his arm around yours.

“Just hungry,” Wally says with a smile. “Let’s get you Home."

Julie leads the way down the small embankment, with Wally supporting your timid, uneasy steps. You soon reach your neighbours, now busying themselves in tidying up the remnants of your picnic. Upon seeing you, they all crowd around, asking if you’re okay. Barnaby remarks that you look terribly pale, and Sally offers to bring you a drink. However, Wally shoos them off, admonishing them in a familial sort of way. He reassures them that you’ve just had a small fainting spell, and need to get some rest.

Now free of the others, Julie, Wally and yourself make the way home - and you’re thankful it’s only a short distance. When you finally reach your porch you want to fall over onto the steps, but Wally keeps you held upright: a firm, reassuring presence at your side.

“You need to tell us if you get this again, okay?” says Julie, looking at you with worry in her eyes.

“Okay,” you say, giving a weak nod.

“Thank you. Feel better soon, okay?”

Julie gives you and Wally a final glance over. Having determined you’ll be more than fine in Wally’s care, she bids her goodbyes and skips off to help the rest of your neighbours.

“Ha ha ha,” laughs Wally. “Julie is a good friend. I’m lucky to have her in my life.”

You look sideways at Wally. He catches your eye, and dips his head in a nod. “I feel the same way about you,” he says.

The question is implied in his voice - a little waver at the edge of his words.

“Wally…I don’t really understand what happened today,” you say. “But…I know it doesn’t change how much I like you."

The beam that dawns on Wally’s face is so wide, it almost cracks in two. “Thank you,” he whispers.

You can’t help but return the grin. “Thank you for being vulnerable with me.”

Wally lets go of your arm, and turns to face you properly. He reaches up one hand, and then hesitates, his eyes flickering back and forth between yours as if pondering a question.

Finally, Wally leans in and gives you a small, gentle kiss on the cheek. You inhale sharply, your arms hanging limply by your side and your fingers curling into questioning shapes. His mouth is plush and downy, and the impression of his lips sends a toasty-sweet feeling rocketing through your body.

When Wally pulls back, his yellow skin is dusted pink about his cheeks.

“Always know,” he says softly, “that I love you very much.”

Then, he’s leaving. You watch in stunned silence as Wally’s back retreats into the distance, making his way to join the throng of your neighbours. A slight rumble in the distance makes you look up: a cluster of thunderclouds gather at the edge of the Neighbourhood, fat with the promise of rain.

You touch your lips gently, and smile. Then, you retreat inside the safety of your home…with the warm memory of Wally’s kiss playing in your mind, and static still buzzing in your fingers.

[xfgpng]

“𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞”

— : [nsfw] slight angst, smut, fluff, pet names, fingering + getting together

(tw.// kidnapping and auctioning of real people as a plot device.)

— : [ wc ] : 6.1k

a/n :: this is not stockholm syndrome at all. their relationship is and will be 100% consensual. i think it’s pretty obvious that it isn’t but it’s better to just address that.

she has always made sure to do right by her father. y/n knew his career was important and while her mother was out the country on vacation with her girls, he insisted y/n join him for a fancy dinner party.

she had to dress up and look good so she didn’t embarrass him or their family name. it was a simple matter and she enjoyed the new clothing.

this time it was a beautiful silk red dress that stopped at her ankles with a slit up the right side.

“you don’t look all that excited for this party” yuzuha sighs but she helps her fix your outfit and makeup.

“he parades me around like some .. trophy” she scoffs, “father feels the need to brag to everyone about me but he forgets that he was barely around, too busy with work”

“i wish you’d move in with me” yuzuha says gently, “hakkai has moved in with mitsuya now so i have the extra space”

“yuzu—”

“y/n you’re 21 now” she says, “you don’t have to do everything they tell you to do. you need to live for yourself”

y/n knew she was right but there was no arguing against whatever her parents wanted. they could’ve abandoned her but at least she had her nannies and everything she could’ve dreamed of.

she felt that she owed them this much.

“think about it okay?” yuzuha smiles, “and please, chifuyu really worries about you so don’t ignore his texts”

y/n grin up at her as she reaches for the lipgloss to finish up her makeup.

“maybe i like playing hard to get” y/n tease and yuzuha laughs, flicking her forehead.

going to these parties were never really her thing but this one was different, he made sure to remind her just how important this night was for him and their families entire fortune.

the limo was parked right out front and he slowly helped her get in, which was good because she felt her arm catch onto something. a tiny pin prick could be felt as she made her way inside and then everything went black.

the sounds of people talking outside jostled her into consciousness. she’s still in the limo, she doesn’t even remember falling asleep but the slight pain on her side had her much more aware now.

“dad?” she call out, stumbling out the car. she hated the stupid dress she wore because it felt shorter now and the heels were uncomfortable against the gravel.

“why are we at the back?” y/n ask, confused. “the entrance is—”

“take her inside and make sure she doesn’t make too much of a scene” her father tells one of the bodyguards

she look at him in confusion and the grip on her arm is almost bruising.

“dad? what’s going on?” she tries to pull away but the taller, much larger man pulls her along and she sees the sad look on her fathers face and she knows this isn’t a regular dinner party.

there are other women around her age, looking as beautiful as she does but even more afraid. they’re all dressed up like they were attending a fancy dinner party but they all had the same black collar around their necks with a colour in the middle.

“what the fuck is going on?” y/n ask, eyes widening when the men in the room force them all into pretty glass boxes. as if they were about to be put on display.

“if you don’t want to be sedated, you’d better behave and do as they tell you” a girl whispers. she looks younger than y/n is, meaning she could be 19 and y/n feel an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach.

her own father was about to sell her off. it had to be a nightmare and maybe she was still in the limo, passed out from the lack of sleep from all the school work at college.

the lights dim and then the curtains are drawn. there are women and men all around the room, rich people with money to waste and she felt dirty as she felt eyes on her.

“oh” sanzu chuckles, leaning back as he grabs another flute of champagne, “they have new faces”

“how sickening” ran rolls his eyes. he had no reason to be here but rindou was getting restless and mikey suggested they follow a lead on their recent customer who owed them a lot of money.

“he’s in the front” rindou nods, “he’s not with his wife so perhaps his here to buy”

“not quite” sanzu smirks, “look towards the stage”


mikey clenches his jaw as he sees what sanzu is talking about. none of them could be considered good people with morals but family was important and so was loyalty.

“what am i missing?” ran asks dryly

“pretty little thing in red” sanzu sighs

rindou grins when he sees her. she’s the prettiest one on stage, the red bringing out her eyes even from the distance. she didn’t look scared like the other women were. she looked angry and hurt?

his smile drops when he realises what’s going on.

“that’s his daughter” rindou says

“she is” sanzu shakes his head, “disgusting pig will do anything for money, even going this far”

“is he planning to use this money to pay us back?” ran asks

“i want her” rindou says

“rin you—”

“i want her” he says more firmly, eyes never leaving her as she stands uncomfortably on stage behind the pretty glass.

he has always had a special kind of love for dolls, porcelain was his most precious treasure but he needed to have her.

“he’ll owe us” sanzu smirks, “he doesn’t know we’re here so i say we make him squirm a little”

“do your worst” mikey says dryly and leaves with ran out the back.

ran isn’t sure he wants to leave his younger brother in a room with beautiful women in glass cases but he’s never really collected humans before. perhaps he was playing around .

“number 4!” the host calls out and she feels her blood run cold. this wasn’t a nightmare. her own father was really auctioning her off to a bunch of rich people who wouldn’t even see her as a person.

she felt sick and resisted the urge to run, she knew she wouldn’t get far with the amount of guards surrounding the place and she could see a weird looking man standing nearby with a briefcase. she had a feeling there was something in there that would be used on her if she didn’t cooperate.

everything feels like a blur as the host introduces her. she can hear him speaking about her achievements, her family and where she comes from. they have no shame admitting who her father is and the old bastard has the nerve to look smug as the people in the room cheer for him.

she felt like throwing up, head a little dizzy and she realises then that he had drugged her on her way into the limo. she forces her poker face and looks straight ahead. she would not cry in front of these people and she’d never give him the satisfaction.

did her mother know what he was doing? did she go away on purpose?

she sees two men approaching her father, one with pink hair and pretty scars and another much more stoic man, his purple hair catching her eye before she looks away again.

“good evening” sanzu grins

“what—”

“don’t try anything stupid or we’ll shoot you” sanzu warns, smiling brightly.

“you sell your own child?” rindou asks, “do you have any shame?”

“it’s not what—”

“here’s what i think happened” rindou cuts him off, “you thought you’d made some money tonight, have someone have their way with her and then when you’re done paying mikey off, you get her back and act like nothing happened?”

“rich people love to throw their kids in therapy anyway, isn’t that right?” sanzu adds

“well tonight, things are going to go very differently” sanzu pats his back, “we are going to put in the highest bid for her”

“no please don’t do this” he begs, “she’s my only child you don’t understand”

“i didn’t ask” sanzu scoffs, “you’re just another sorry motherfucker”

“you better find another way to get the boss his money or it’s not gonna end well for your sweet little girl or your wife” sanzu whispers, “she’s in macau isn’t she?”

he swallows hard and tries his best to smile when he sees another couple walk by and greet him.

“this is what happens to people like you” rindou downs the last of his whiskey and walks towards the host.

they knew who bonten was and no one would try and outbid them.

she looked scared now that she was alone with them. she kept trying to pull her dress up despite it not revealing too much. sanzu found her to be very pretty but rindou couldn’t stop looking at her pretty brown eyes.

“what’s your name pretty girl?” rindou asks, “we’re not going to hurt you”

“y/n” she says, “why did you—”

“buy you?” sanzu asks from the drivers seat

“your father is a very bad man y/n” rindou explains, “he owes us a lot of money and tonight, he was here to sell you off to pay his debts”

her eyes widen and she allows herself to cry, covering her face as she leans against the car door. she didn’t even feel like she was in her body.

“my name is sanzu” sanzu says, “and that’s rindou, he really liked you”

“do you always do this?” she asks

“no” rindou says immediately, “in our line of work, we have different departments and we don’t deal with these things”

“but you do” y/n says, scoffing as she holds her arms around herself.

“the women who choose to work for us come on their own” sanzu says, “it’s easier than having a pimp on the streets”

“am I going to be like that?” she asks softly

“never” rindou takes her hand, “no, that’s not why you’re here”

“you’ll stay with rin for now” sanzu pulls up in front of a huge house, “his maids will assist you with whatever you need while we do our jobs”

“are you going to kill him?” she looks at rindou, “my father”

“he knew what he was getting into” rindou explains, “it’s not up to me what happens”

“it’s been a long day” sanzu yawns, “go inside and sleep it off”

“what about my cell phone?” she asks, “or my bag?”

“it’s here” rindou says, “i’ll be keeping it for now”

“as long as you behave, there’s no reason to be scared” he adds and she doesn’t say anything. she can see they both have guns and she’d rather not try her luck and when she didn’t even know where she was.

his house is huge, filled with paintings and it was almost haunting. he guides her through the house and into a large bedroom.


she feels scared and can’t help but start crying again. she didn’t want this and she didn’t want him to touch her either.

“this isn’t my room” he says, “you’ll stay here and if you need something, you’ll call for me and no one else”

“you’re not —”

“despite what people think, we’re not disgusting enough to sleep with women against their consent, go to sleep”


she’s too stunned to say anything as she walks out and locks the door. she knows her friends will be worried about her and she doesn’t even know what she’ll say to them.

she couldn’t tell them the truth, it was far too scary but she swore she saw a familiar face last night. he looked shocked to see her there.

there’s no doubt he would tell yuzuha, their relationship had improved over the years. maybe they could help her?

she cried herself to sleep that night, dreaming of running away from home, far away from the city and far away from the family she thought she knew.

“are you sure you saw her there?” yuzuha is pacing the kitchen, “this can’t be right”

“can’t we go to the police?” hakkai asks

“no” taiju says, “she wasn’t bought by some random rich guy”

“rindou won the auction” he adds and that has yuzuha panicking even more. what business did her best friend have with bonten?

“calm down” taiju says, “last night her old man sold her off, i heard he did some shady business with bonten and ran with their money.. she’s safe for now, just let me find out more before you try anything stupid”

“what will they do to her?” yuzuha asks, she’s trying to not cry but she can’t imagine anything good coming from this.

“nothing” taiju says, “they’ve never done any shit like this before, they’re playing a game and unfortunately her father got her involved”

“are you going to see them today?” hakkai asks, “maybe you could at least find out where she is”

“no promises but i can try” he sighs, “this is a lot bigger than any of us because no one crosses mikey and gets a slap on the wrist”

“he has to make an example” hakkai whispers, “even if it’s at her expense”

“I can’t promise that i’ll find anything out but trust that they won’t hurt her and y/n isn’t weak” taiju says, “let me handle this”


yuzuha nods, knowing she wouldn’t be able to do anything even if she tried to.

she wakes up a little disoriented, having fallen asleep in the red dress from the night before. she tries to remember where she is when the memories come crashing back like a wave.

she sits up fast, glancing around the otherwise empty room. the bed is huge but she can tell this room has never been used before. she doesn’t know if that makes her feel better.

the door opens and rindou enters. he’s changed from the night before and he hands her a bag with clothing and a towel.

“you can take a shower and change into something more comfortable” he says and when she finally stands, she notices the glass case to the side of the room.

“are those—”

“antiques” he grins, “i’m a .. collector”

she doesn’t know what he means by that but she can appreciate the fine china though she doesn’t know why he’d keep the tea sets locked up in a bedroom.

“you’ll come have breakfast with me once you’re ready” he says and she can tell it’s not a question.

“my phone” she says softly, “please, my friends they’ll worry”

“if you do as you’re told, you’ll get your phone back” rindou explains gently, “i don’t intend to keep you as a prisoner though you’d look beautiful all dolled up”

y/n doesn’t ask what he means by that, following him into the on suite bathroom.

“this is your bathroom” rindou smiles, “you’ll be able to get new clothes and whatever else you may need but try and run from me and i won’t be so nice”

she nods and waits for him to leave before she takes a deep breath, staring at her reflection in the mirror. her face is puffy from crying herself to sleep.

the entire night still doesn’t feel real but she can’t get the look of her fathers face out her head. her was willing to sell her off to anyone that would pay a high price to pay off his own debts. she was starting to realise she never really knew her own father.

the warm water relaxes her enough to let her guard down and she allows herself a moment to think about rindou. she didn’t understand what the man wanted from her. he didn’t want to sleep with her or maybe he did but he wasn’t going to push her.


he was being nice when he didn’t have to be. she supposes this might just be a lesson for her father or whoever else tried to cross bonten.

if she really thought about it, it might’ve been effective if she didn’t know all about bonten and the rumours she’s heard even at college.

she swallows hard. would she be able to go back to school after all this? she was sure some of the people there last night could’ve easily been parents to kids at her college and the thought has her running out the shower to throw up. her stomach was empty anyway.

“you can text your friends” rindou hands her the phone, “i don’t know what you’ll say but be careful, i don’t want to have to make an example out of your friends”

“that won’t be necessary” she says quickly, “thank you”

there are over 50 missed calls from Yuzuha alone and when she opens her text messages, she realises she doesn’t have to say a thing.

taiju was there and he told her.

she feels a knot in her stomach as she sends a quick message promising that she was fine and that she’d call whenever she could.

“what did he do?” y/n asks when she’s done drinking her juice, “my father…”

rindou sighs.

“you don’t think your father could run his business that successfully all these years without making some deal?” rindou asks, “do you remember when his business started getting successful?”

“he’s always been successful” y/n frowns, “but last year, he gave almost every single employee a bonus”

“which would’ve been bad for business if he couldn’t afford it right?” he asks and she nods slowly

“last year a friend of your fathers introduced him to my boss” rindou shrugs, “your old man had other interests outside finance”

“what do you mean?” y/n asks

“women” rindou grins

“no” she immediately shakes her head, “he wouldn’t”

“no?” rindou laughs, “and yet look where you are right now sweetheart”

she looks down at her empty plate and feels like crying again. she wasn’t sure how much more she could take before she really had a breakdown.

“don’t look so sad baby” rindou pats her head as he walks behind her, “you’re far better off with me than that old man of yours”

she doesn’t know what to believe right now but she feels too tired to argue. she just sighs and stands to take her plate but he stops her.

“how about we go for a drive hm?” he says softly, “i have some things to do for my boss but i’m all yours”

she doesn’t want to think about the shiver that runs up her spine at his words or the way he smells so good from being this close.

“okay” she finds herself agreeing. it’s not like she has anything else to do because she was off from college for a while anyway and she wasn’t even sure she wanted to go back to her old life.

a life that seemed so distant now.

“where’s my daughter” he asks, slamming his hands on the table as ran lazes in his chair.

kakucho smirks as he watches the old bastard throw a fit.

“you weren’t this concerned about her last night” ran scoffs

“i had everything under control!” he says, “i knew the buyer-”

“you’re a sick fucking man” kakucho cuts him off, “selling your kid for a night for what? so you could pay off your debts?”

“i do what i have to for my family” he says angrily

“no, you do what you have to for yourself” ran rolls his eyes, “you’ll never see her again so you better just focus on getting mikey his money or your wife won’t be getting on that plane home tomorrow night”

“she’s just starting her life” he begs, “please,i’ll do anything”

“you should’ve thought about that before you paraded her around like some pretty little prize” kakucho moves from where he had been standing.

“we’re done here” ran says dryly, “see yourself out”

“i’ll go to the cops” he threatens but they just laugh at him. they were used to empty threats.

the drive seemed to make her feel less uneasy around rindou. he wasn’t very talkative but she liked the quite anyway. she didn’t feel like talking either and when they arrived home.

he still had business to do so she found herself walking around the house. it was beautiful but she wondered how he stayed by himself aside from his maids. it felt too big and cold for just one person.

at the end of the hallway, she stumbled upon a large oakwood door. it was bigger than all the other doors. she hated how curious she was as she slowly pushed the door open.

the room was covered from top to bottom in glass. it felt as though she was intruding but she slowly entered, eyes widening in shock when she saw all the dolls.

porcelain dolls of all shapes and sizes in beautiful glass cases. she gasped when she felt someone stand behind her, her back pressed firmly against his chest.

“i see you’ve found this room” he chuckles, “beautiful isn’t it?”

she wasn’t sure she’d call it beautiful. it was a lot more scary than she’d like to admit but she was also fascinated by it all.

“why—”

“i’ve told you before, i liked to collect pretty things” he gently places a hand on her waist

“like me?” she finds herself asking despite herself.

“i’ve never collected humans if that’s what you’re asking” he laughs, “though you are very pretty and i guess last night, i found myself wanting to keep you too”

“what about now?” she turns to face him

“i don’t want to see you the same way i see these antiques” he cups the side of her face, “if your father complies, you’ll be free to go”

“and if he doesn’t?” she whispers

he just chuckles, lightly patting her cheek.

“i have to go see mikey” he smiles, “behave yourself”

“are you going to lock me in the room again?” she asks and he sighs

“no” he shakes his head, “you’re free to roam, just don’t run from me because i will find you”

“i want to see my friends” y/n says

he runs his hands through his hair.

“okay” he agrees, “but remember what i said”

“thank you” she says, sounding relieved.

“and keep your phone on” he adds and she nods

yuzuha nearly drops her glass in the sink when y/n walks into the kitchen.

“y/n?!” she grabs her into a tight hug and y/n laughs, a little startled.

“what’s going on?” yuzuha asks, “how did you—”

“you’re squeezing me” y/n pats her arm, “i’m fine, let me go so i can explain”

“is it true?” yuzuha asks, “did he do anything to you?”

“he didn’t do anything to me” y/n promises, “he let me come see you so maybe this isn’t even about me right now”

“your dad… he really did that shit?” yuzuha takes a hold of y/n’s hand

“yeah” she laughs bitterly, “it feels like a horrible joke”

“so you’re just gonna … stay?” yuzuha asks

“for now, yeah” y/n shrugs, “i think it’s better to just do what he asks”

“did you … meet them all?” yuzuha asks after a while, handing y/n a glass of water.

“no” she shakes her head, “just the brothers, their boss and sanzu”

“he gave you one of his cars?” yuzuha looks outside

“it’s probably because it’ll be easy to track me” y/n laughs, “i could still technically escape”

“so why don’t you?” yuzuha can’t help but ask

y/n doesn’t know how to answer that question so she looks down at the glass in her hands. was it weird that she felt safer in rindou’s house than her own?

“i can’t go home and he knows to look for me here” y/n shakes her head, “word would get out that i escaped and he’ll come here first”

“i also don’t know if my mother is involved or not so they could easily get her too” she adds, “it’s just better to stay with rindou, at least he’s nice”

“nice?” yuzuha huffs, “y/n don’t tell me you’re crushing”

“crushing?” y/n scoffs, “i met the guy at an auction where i was one of the prizes, it’s not exactly a meet cute situation”

yuzuha laughs. at least y/n could make light of a serious situation.

“you came back” rindou says and she’s surprised at how shocked he seems to be.

“did you think i’d run?” she asks, giving him his keys back.

“i gave you an out” he admits, “this has nothing to do with you”

“i don’t..want to go back there” she says, “my fat— that man, auctioned me off like a piece of meat.. he could do that again without hesitation”

“hey it’s okay” rindou says gently, “can i?”


she nods and he pulls her in for a hug. he pats her head gently. he wasn’t sure what he was meant to be doing. he never had this kind of intimacy with his past relationships. it was always about the sex or business, nothing more and yet here he stood comforting the daughter of the man that crossed them.

“take a nap if you need to” he tells her, “dinner will be ready later”

“thank you” she sighs

“do you want to let her go now?” sanzu smirks, “that’s interesting”

“i don’t” rindou admits, “but i didn’t think it would get like this”

sanzu laughs. it was fun seeing rindou like this. the man was never girl crazy but he had his fair share of fun but rindou haitani didn’t care for anything other than his brother and work.

“word on the street is her father hired some low life gang bangers” sanzu grins, “think he’s trying to get her back by kidnap”

“what does mikey want to do?” rindou asks

“nothing” sanzu shrugs, “we’ll wait and see what the old fucker does”

“hm” rindou nods, reaching for his drink.

“isn’t glass dolls so much easier to deal with?” sanzu asks, “they can’t talk back and they don’t cause you to feel anything”

“and you have complete ownership” he adds

“i don’t want to own her” rindou scoffs, “not in the way you think”

“you have a soft spot for the girl” sanzu laughs loudly, tipping his head back.

rindou thinks his friends is so much prettier with his mouth shut.

y/n finds it harder and harder to sleep. a week has gone by but it feels longer and there’s been no calls or texts from her mother either. she’s starting to realise they must’ve been planning this for a very long time.

how else would her father know about that type of auctions? he had to be apart of it. she feels sick to her stomach that laying down only makes her feel dizzy and nauseous.

“you’re still awake” rindou says when he sees her in the kitchen. she startles and he grins, standing next to her as she pours him a glass of wine as well.

he likes how comfortable she seems to be in his space and that could pose as a problem because how would he be fine with her leaving?

he leans closer and if she notices, she doesn’t say anything.

“you haven’t been sleeping well” he says and she sighs. it wasn’t like she could deny it.

“would you like me to keep you company?” rindou asks

“rin—”

“i’ll just lay with you until you fall asleep” he adds, “i meant what i said, i won’t touch you unless it’s what you want”

“okay” y/n nods and lets him take her hand, leading her to the room she’s been staying in.

“just close your eyes for me darling” he smiles, “you’re safe with me”

she finds that she believes him. his warm next to her and she falls asleep.

“he gave you his card to go shopping?” yuzuha laughs, “oh my”

“it’s not like that” y/n says, “i don’t have anything of my own and i don’t think i’ll get it right now”

“have you spoken to chifuyu?” yuzuha asks, “he’s been asking about you”

“i texted him this morning” y/n shrugs, “i don’t want anyone making a big deal about this right now”

y/n walks around the clothing isle to look at dresses when she feels 2 men come up behind her.

“you scream and I’ll shoot your friend” he says, “walk forward and don’t make a scene”

she swallows hard and nods quickly. she doesn’t know what’s going on, was this bonten? was this rindou’s plan all along?

she wills herself not to cry as she walks out the store, she doesn’t look back even when she hears yuzuha call after her.

her phone vibrates in her pocket but she knows she can’t reach for it. none of this feels real.

“your fathers been expecting you y/n” the other man says, “get into the car”

father?

when she gets inside the black suv, she feels like throwing up. her father looks far too pleased to see her and he takes her hand and squeezes.

“you’re safe now dear, don’t cry anymore”

she hates him.

“i didn’t know who else to call” yuzuha cries, “one moment we were shopping the next she’s walking out the store with two men dressed in black suits”

taiju looks over at mikey who clenches his jaw. he looks angry, this wasn’t them.

“what’s going on?” yuzuha asks, “is this her father?”

“i’ll handle it” rindou says

“rindou” mikey says but rindou ignores him

“i said i’ll handle it” rindou walks out with ran following close behind.

“you aren’t hurt, are you?” her father asks but she doesn’t answer him. she won’t even look at him as the guards force her to sit down in his office.

he dismisses them and he sighs.

“you need to understand that i do what i must to take care of our family” he says

“you do what you must to take care of yourself” y/n scoffs, “you’re disgusting”

“you say that but i did everything for you” he laughs, “how else would you have everything you’ve ever wanted?”

“your mother was too soft on you” he adds dryly, “this was character building and you’ll do right to remember everything i do for you”

“what—”

“you’ll do as you’re told” he cuts her off, “i have spoken to a friend in italy and his son is around your age”

“excuse me?” y/n widens her eyes, “you’re still trying to sell me off?”

“don’t be so dramatic” he rolls his eyes, “it’ll be a legal marriage”

“i hate you” y/n stands and tries to leave but he grabs her arm.

before she can yank her arm away or scream, the sound of gun shots rings loud outside. she can hear the commotion and shouting before her father knocks her out.

the last thing she hears is the sound of the door opening and another gunshot.

her head is spinning when she opens her eyes. she feels the softness of her pillows and she’s got a cold cloth on her forehead.

“y/n?” rindou whispers

he dims the lights when she squints, sitting up slowly. she looks around the room and she feels herself crying.

“hey, it’s okay baby it’s just me” rindou sits beside her and she moves closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“it’s okay, you’re okay now” he says softly, “he’ll never hurt you again”

“did you…” she trails off

“i wanted to but i didn’t” rindou admits, wrapping his arms around her, “i did shoot him in the arm but he’ll be fine”

“he wanted to send me to italy” she sniffs, “he was never worried about me”

“i’m sorry” rindou says because he doesn’t know what else to say. he wasn’t good at comforting people but he’d try for her.

“do you want —”

“please just… kiss me” she says, “i want to be distracted for a while”

“your adrenaline is high” he pats her head, kissing her cheek, “you don’t want this”

“rindou i’m not a child” she frowns, “i want this”

“how long?” he asks

“when you stayed with me the other night” she says, “i think i started liking you before then but i do”

“this situation isn’t exactly ideal” he sighs

“i don’t remember a time where a situation was ideal in my life” she scoffs, “especially after everything he said to me”

she did feel like her life was a lie, everything until now.

“rin” she whispers and he caves, leaning in to kiss her softly. he’s been thinking about this since the first night he saw her but it was so much better.

her tiny gasps and the way she wraps her arms around his neck makes him feel dizzy.

he pushes her gently onto the bed and she’s never been more happier to be wearing a skirt. it’s a pretty skirt that rindou had complimented her on.

“so fucking beautiful” he groans, spreading her legs further to fit himself in the middle.

she was far pretty than any doll he’s ever collected and her skin was soft and warm. she was real and all his.

“tell me what you want baby” he grins, “I’ll give you whatever you want”

“i just want you” she smiles shyly up at him and he’s imagined this moment far too often to ruin it.

“you have me” he smirks, running his fingers up her thigh before he reaches her panties.

“lift your hips” he playfully hits her thigh, “i’ll make you feel real good”

she does as she’s told and the next moment she finds herself flipped over onto her stomach. he doesn’t give her a moment to breathe before he slips his middle finger into her pussy.

she whines and he bites back a loud groan. she was so tight and wet, he needed to keep his composure because he had no desire to hurt her.

not unless it’s what she wanted and since this would be the first of many, he planned to make her remember this moment forever.

“so good” y/n moaned when she felt him add a second finger. he leaned down to bite down on her ass before kissing his way between her pretty legs.

“such a pretty pussy” he moans before he slips his tongue between his fingers.

she cries out, arching her back and he uses his free hand to spank her. he then grips her firmly so she can’t move away and begins a slow rhythm of eating her out and fingering her open.

“want more rin” she slurs, “please”

she's never been this open during sex, has never felt this good before and she knows she doesn’t want the feeling to go.

“so impatient” he chuckles but he’s already undressing. he wants to take his time with her but he can feel how hard he is and he knew he’d have enough time to explore.

right now, she wanted him and he’d be the perfect distraction for her.

“spread your legs a little more sweetheart” he says, rubbing his tip through her folds before pressing into her.

she bites down onto the pillow and he smirks. he knew he was big and thicker than most. this wasn’t the first time he’s had sex but he’s never had feelings for anyone before now and he feels lightheaded when he finally bottoms out.

“fuck” he grunts, “shit baby, keep still for me”

he could use the excuse that he just wants her to get used to the feeling but he’s the one that needs a moment. he didn’t want to embarrass himself but she felt so good around him that he couldn’t resist thrusting forward.

her moans are so pretty and she’s not shy to call his name over and over again.

“that’s it pretty girl” he says, “it’s all yours”

he feels her squeezing and clenching around him and it’s so hot and sticky that he can’t help but pull back a little to stare down at where he’s fucking into her.

they needed to be careful and they did have a lot to talk about but that could all wait.

“god baby, fuck yourself back on my dick” he groans, throwing his head back.

talking could wait, he wanted to focus on her and only her.

[withoutyouimsaskia]

Sometimes It's Fated (Sandman Short Story Part 2)

Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4

​GIF: Originally posted by @harleytudinous

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x AFAB reader

Summary: Reader Self-Insert. After restoring the Dreaming and locating the missing dreams and nightmares, Morpheus turns his attention to finding you, the human he believes fate has chosen for him. (Title inspired by Placebo's "This Picture".)

Warnings: Minors DNI. Dark!Morpheus. Soulmates. Angst. Obsessive and possessive behaviour. Tension. Threat. Dream manipulation. Masturbation. Voyeurism. Plot related cigarette use. Dubious consent.

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: So I know I initially billed this as a two shot but the story has run away with me in the most lovely way. Part 3 will be coming soon. Thank you for all your kind responses to part 1, it honestly means so much to me. Hope you enjoy this one too. All my love, Saskia xx

Sandman Masterlist

---------------------------------------------

The veil of sleep comes down upon your weary body with a feather-light touch, trying to coax your mind back into the world of dreams.

Dreamscapes have been a whole new experience for you in the past month of your life. Before, you would wake with no recollection of what had played out. Not even the slightest inkling. Now, you remember everything.

They are staggering; bursting with details and ideas beyond your most outlandish daytime imaginings. The emotions that are conjured by them, both when asleep and also awake are just as bold.

And even though it's been 23 nights since it started you are still finding them predominantly jarring and disorientating. You are baffled by how other people cope with the sheer vividness. The unpredictability. Maybe they have become desensitised. You can only hope that the same will happen for you in time.

One thing you tell yourself with each sunrise:

Thank goodness they weren't nightmares.

At least, you don't think they are. There's no resemblance between yours and what you have heard others describe over the years, nor to those outlined in a dream decoding book you had checked out of the library last week. There's no obvious threat or fear. No re-living of traumatic events. Just weird subtext.

The first dream found you standing barefoot on a beach. A mirage distorted the particulars of the scene making it impossible to see further than half a meter in front of you. The temperature of the sand under your soles was verging on painful and as such, it forced you to walk into the unknown before you.

A groaning wind started to brew and lifted the sand into sparkling flurries. You shielded your eyes from the abrasive particles.

The sun was at its apex when you heard the ear splitting bangs. Unmistakably gun shots; you didn't last much longer in the dream and woke with a start.

For the next week, your dreams had been like a series of video clips edited into a supercut.

Raven wings. Black cats. Hellfire. Ruby red glow. Sprawling library shelves. Landscapes hewn by earthquake fissures. Hotel corridors. A handsome, blond haired man wearing sunglasses, holding a blood covered knife.

If you didn't know any better, you would begin to suspect that your new box of tea bags had been laced with a psychedelic. Alas, no. Your hypothesis was unequivocally disproved when you friends had been completely unaffected after stopping by for a Sunday afternoon catch up.

This quick fire of snapshots eventually stopped, transforming into lucid long form dreams. You often think back to the first one where it happened.

Standing in the the empty room, and the appearance of the figure dressed in black. The colour that had flashed in their midnight eyes had the quality of liquid silver. Sometimes you wonder if you see the same image in other dreams, standing in amongst a crowd.

From that point on, regardless of what dream you are in, you cannot shake the intuitive prickle down your spine that tells you someone is watching you.

You reason that it is nothing to be concerned about. Humans dream, and you cannot deny that some of them - swimming in a sea of clouds, re-visiting childhood haunts, trying out superpowers - have been quite fun.

You roll over on to your left side and close your eyes.

You dream.

The room you see is expansive in breadth and depth. Impressive windows bring brilliant light into the space which bounces off the ivory stone of the floors and walls. There are statues positioned at equidistant intervals, implying that the chamber is a gallery of sorts.

One effigy, fashioned from bronze, and rich in colour draws your attention. The lines and curves of its form intrigue you, despite not knowing the creature it was portraying.

You are about to move on when the feeling of being watched sparks through your skeleton.

Everything changes.

Clarity gives way to haze. Sun is swapped for moon.

You see a man across the room. He stands with a perfect posture. Graceful, powerful. His elbows are bent, fingers interlaced, palms facing upwards. Sheer black fabric floats around his frame. It moves languidly, giving glimpses of his bare body beneath.

The man's face is imperceptible. The distance between you too great but somehow you know you are the focus of his attention.

His robes fall to the floor with a gossamer sigh. The pale, unmarked skin of his slight form glows beautifully in the moonlight. You look down in embarrassment as arousal flushes through you, and you see that you are suddenly as naked as he is.

You gasp, and snap your gaze back up.

The sight you see is rather unexpected. The man is intimately touching himself.

You feel compelled to mirror him. You immediately reach between your legs. The man groans as you make contact.

All it takes is a little bit of attention on your clit before you are ready to slide two fingers into your core. The noise you make at the feeling of the stretch is salacious. The man echoes you with a sound that is just as dirty.

It spurs you on and you burrow deeper.

You curl your fingers until your legs are weak and quivering. You long to sink to your knees so you can finish in a more comfortable position yet you can't. An invisible force is preventing you.

It keeps you on display.

Just like the statues to your left.

You wonder if it is for the man's benefit.

You try to focus on him but it is impossible to do so through the trembling glaze over your eyes. All you are able to sense from him now is the sound of the rhythmic pump of his palm around his cock and his panting breaths.

Desperate whines escape your lips. You are teetering on the edge of an orgasm but you can't seem to lose your balance and fall into the abyss. The unsteadiness in your legs is too much of a distraction. You rub at your clit again in the hope that it will bring the satisfaction you need.

It does nothing.

You are so frustrated by your body's disobedience that it is almost painful.

"Please. Please. Please," you mutter under your breath.

A voice suddenly speaks next to you ear. A velvet voice with the timbre of a thunder rumble. It pours like a soothing syrup into your brain and commands you to do exactly as it bids.

"Let go."

You climax intensely, crying out in relief, squirting all over your fingers and onto your hand as you legs finally give way.

The fall jolts you back into consciousness and you wake with a barely contained scream of pleasure in your throat and adrenaline lighting up your nervous system.

Daylight is peeking through a little gap in the curtains. You take a deep, grounding breath.

That was obscene.

The context, the actions, the sounds. That sultry voice at the end. From the throbbing in your vulva and the twitching of your legs it seems like you didn't just finish in the dream.

There is really no point in looking it up in the dream decoding book.

You were clearly horny on a subconscious level. Or craving attention, hence the exhibitionist behaviour. The latter is not usually in your nature to seek out but if it is the reason, you might not have to wait long before the desire is fulfilled. There is a work event happening this evening that may require you to accept an award and address the crowd.

You love this time of year where community projects get recognition; a nomination alone is a sure-fire way of garnering publicity which in turn helps the charity's outreach.

But first, a normal day at the office. You throw back the covers and go straight to the bathroom to rinse off the evidence of your wet dream.

---------------------------------------------

Your right hand connects with the metal push plate of the function space's front door. The heels of your boots click and clack as you cross the threshold, moving from floor board to paving slab.

It's fortuitous that you brought a long, thick coat with you this evening for the wind is wintery and unforgiving. You stay close to the wall of the building to try and shelter from it as much as possible.

The pavements are slick with recent precipitation, streetlamps bouncing off of the water with caustic white light.

Then you see him; a figure cut from shadow.

He's breathing in such a laboured way that you wonder if he is sick.

Your phone is still inside the venue, currently being guarded by a colleague along with your bag but it wouldn't take long to retrieve it and call for medical assistance.

"You okay?" Concern colours the simple question.

His reply comes quickly and assertively, "I am well, thank you."

You nod, not entirely convinced for the stranger's response was as stiff as his posture, and reach inside the pocket of your coat for the box of cigarettes and lighter stashed within.

You settle one of the sticks between your lips and use your thumb to bring forth a flame. The crackle of smouldering paper and tobacco perforates the damp air and you take a needy drag. The nicotine taints and tantalises in equal measure, filling you with guilt and relief. You've been trying to give up but the little voice inside your head had won this evening. You close your eyes and focus on the pleasure it brings before flicking some ash into the tray mounted to the wall.

Your attention now back on your surroundings, the stranger steps into the scope of the streetlight. The angles of his cheekbones, jaw and nose are accentuated to an incredible extent in the gleam. His dark hair is being buffeted about the wind, locks of it very close to falling in the blue eyes that are unwaveringly trained on you. He begins to talk again, showcasing his deep baritone.

"I'm afraid I wasn't entirely honest with you just now. It is not how I envisaged our first interaction transpiring. I hope that you can forgive me for my deception."

You laugh nervously and take another quick drag. "It makes no difference if you're honest with me or not. I don't know you."

"You are correct. You don't know me. Not yet -"

"Oh," you cut in quickly. "I'm not looking for a hook up."

While you cannot deny that he is arrestingly beautiful, you are technically working and have never been one for one-night stands.

"You mistake my meaning. I have been searching for you for so long. I oftentimes doubted your existence however I was wrong and I find myself humbled to be in your presence at last."

The grandiose declaration is one of the stranger things you have heard in your life and you used to deal with drunken patrons when you worked at a university bar. Maybe he was intoxicated; it would explain a lot.

"Look, this might work on other people but I just came out here to have a cigarette -"

It is his turn to interrupt you now. "You will have no need of those going forward. Your addiction to them will be replaced by me."

"Excuse me?"

You are trying to sound incredulous, however, inside you are rather frightened by the turn the conversation has taken. His gaze is not helping either.

The crystalline eyes are embodying every part of the descriptor; a hard, chill inducing blue. Ash drops from the smouldering cigarette as a tremble of fear rattles through you. The man sees this and the ice suddenly melts to a warmer hue.

His tone turns soft and gentle. "We are supposed to be together. Our union is fated."

He's staring at you expectantly even after your two attempts at rejection. You swiftly stub out the part-finished cigarette and take ownership in ending the interaction.

"I've had enough of this. I'm going back inside now. If you try and follow me, I will speak to the venue's management. If you are still here when I leave later, I will call the police."

You turn towards the door.

He calls your name. Your full name. Middle name too.

Despite your brain chanting at you to go inside, you can't stop yourself from looking back at him. "H-how do you know my full name?"

The profound rumble of his voice resonates deep in your ears. "I know everything about you, Y/N."

He's right in front of you now. His posture is bordering between desperate and predatory. Like he can't quite decide if he is seeking comfort from you, or if he wants to consume you.

You are fumbling behind you to find the door handle. "Please get away from me," you say hoarsely.

He reaches for your hand.

You jump back and struggle to get out of his grip but his strength is inhumanly strong. His skin of his palm is glacial against yours and yet somehow, the touch makes heat snake up your arm and settle in your chest.

You become aware of an internal feeling that you've always had, like that of chapped lips. Low level but something that constantly nags. Something that existed every minute of your life until the moment he touched you.

You grip his hand and look up at his face in astonishment.

"Good. That's it. Look into my eyes. See what you know is there."

You do as he says, totally stunned by the depths that seem to reside within them. It's as if there are universes suspended inside. Maybe there are. Perhaps you could float among the celestial bodies if you asked him to show you how.

You feel so alive and overstimulated that you welcome the delirious thoughts taking over your mind.

You welcome him.

It's like there is a cord connected between your heart and his that is shortening in length. The intensity scares you.

You obey, feet moving of their own accord and then you are standing before him, just centimetres apart.

"Give into the pull," he urges darkly, sensing your anxiety.

He smiles triumphantly and presses you flush against his body.

His free hand comes up to cup your jaw, fingers brushing the sensitive skin of your neck. More heat sears through you from the additional skin-on-skin contact.

Your peripheral vision closes tighter and tighter with every passing moment. The outside world is gone.

He leans in further and you wonder hazily if he is going to kiss you or break your neck. Both options are equally viable given the behaviour he has exhibited. You keep staring at him regardless.

His irises flash silver as he intones his next sentence. "Y/N, I claim you as my soulmate."

-------------------------------------

Taglist: @herfantasyworldd @kpopgirlbtssvt

"Am I your dream girl? You think of me in bed. But you could never hold me. You like me better in your head."

[cochineal-leviat]

Sweet Dreams, Stardust

Okay, so I have a lot of feelings about In Stars and Time. But let me say first, wow, this game irreversibly changed my brain network. For anyone who is considering buying this game, please do. I don't think I've had a story touch my heart and mind like this for a long time. And that goes without mentioning the stunning visuals and entertaining battle system. (Be careful, though, because this game handles heavy topics regarding mental health)

If you're still hung up on buying it but are curious, there is a free demo on Steam if you like to try.

Thank you, @insertdisc5, for this gem of a game. I will be turning it around in my head like a microwaveable gourmet meal for months to come.

Technically the illustration has no spoilers (unless you count Siffrin having a good nap as a spoiler). But I will be going into heavy spoiler territory under the keep reading since I need to get my thoughts on this game off my chest.

And a monochrome version because you know me, I can't help myself. Even in black and white art pieces, I will put in some colour.

And a very tiny Loop

Initially, I was going to do a piece with a theatre stage and the cast (Siffrin, Mirabelle, Isabeau, Odile, Bonnie and the head house maiden) taking a bow and finally leaving the spectacle to a life not controlled by a script and Wish Craft. But it was more fitting to put my feelings into creating a peaceful scene. Like, oof, I needed this very badly. I used sepia to make the painting warmer and added some more details like headcanons. The stars/colours might be remnants of Siffrin's transformation. Or maybe they were always there, but he never paid attention to it. Who knows.

I'm going to keep this brief. Otherwise, this post will take way too long.

I adore Siff's character. It's perfect for a game and narrative such as this. I saw a post not long ago on Tumblr going into depth about how their role as the rogue and not the hero works so well, so I won't linger on it for long. But how they would rather listen and fade into the background perfectly aligns with the player's experience of being the silent observer. (And the nodding off that changes into zoning out. It took me way too long to realise that small but essential narrative change) Oh, and the portrait change! It flew over my head until I was staring at the game menu. I was so confident Siffrin had a mischievous grin and not a frown. I always feel slightly surprised when the party asks for Siff's opinion or mentions that they have been too quiet. I felt Siffrin's excitement like my own when he got excited at finding clues to end the nightmare they were in. So I knew it would end up falling on their face because they were too excited. I just had this bad gut feeling the whole time during Act 4.

And oh boy, speaking off acts. I thought it would have been the standard 3. Boy, I was wrong. Whenever I felt I was nearing the end, I was thrown back at the start with more mysteries than answers. It made exploring the game intriguing since there is almost no information about it online (at the time of writing this post). There is the Discord, but I didn't know about it until I finished it.

This game has a lot of secrets, and I had a lot of fun uncovering them. The looping mechanic works so well in discovering little details and further leads. (even though my stubborn arse kept trying to do everything in the least amount of loops as possible. I thought the ending would be different if I exceeded a 100. My final number is 59. I am still not sure if I should be mad about it not being a rounded number like 60 or that I went over the 50 threshold)

However, it is a good thing that only some mysteries were solved. Like, what's up with colours in this world? Everyone sees in black and white, and the idea of shades and colours is only spoken of in scientific studies. They do exist and are not a part of the disaster that happened to Siffrin and their land. But there is definitely something mysterious about it. I adore how the dialogue reflects this, as the characters do not speak of shades or colours. Isabeau expresses surprise to see a streak of red colouring the sky in Act 6. It makes you think about how colour is perceived and how you describe it. (The lore inside this game is immaculate. I eat this shit up)

We never find out the name of the country north of Vanguard or what it was like. We can only infer that the beaches had black sand, with shells that shine like stars, high-reaching mountains, forests and plains. Which is vague and yet intriguing enough to make you wonder. It connected me to Siff and King because I also wanted to know. I was desperate to know. I needed to know. But in the end, we never will know because that is not the story's point. Siffrin even says in the game, that King should let go because he is hurting everyone and everything, including himself, in his desperation to preserve Vanguard. This is all the more ironic when Siff accidentally does the same with his family and the loops. I might gush more about what the country might be like and their technology in another post. This game makes me want to theorise. This is the first time I've wanted to write and post theories. ISAT fucked me up good.

Which, by the way, was genius. Siffrin and King are mirrors of each other. Siff does not have King's disastrous ambition, but their love/obsession will be the downfall of both of them. They have more than being each other's countrymen in common, and I imagine Siff despises that.

I love the fact King's question to Siffrin before the showdown was/could never be answered. Usually, in a game such as this, you must figure out how to solve everything, especially for the big bad. But that was never the goal. King is a delusional monster who will not stop before achieving his dream. He will raze everything to the ground and hurt many people because he must succeed. It is what he desires. Nay, the universe wills it. What a witless excuse that can easily be made into someone's truth. Especially to somebody who is driven mad with grief.

How King's character's done is so excellent. Because, at first, I wasn't scared of him at all. He was just the big bad, and I felt nothing much but the glory of victory when Siffrin outsmarted him by looping and making sure Mirabelle learned the shield spell that would protect the party from freezing in time. But each time you fight him, you get more frustrated until Siff figures that talking to him might be fruitful. It does, but unfortunately, you and Siffrin leave yourself emotionally and mentally vulnerable. King stops being a one-dimensional villain and changes into an actual person. Someone you can sympathise with and possibly mend peace with without fighting. You and Siffrin opened his heart for a kindred spirit and got hurt.

King stopped being a monster and became human. And while monsters are wretched, humans have intent behind their cruelty. I felt so betrayed, so angry, but most of all - terrified. I felt it when Siffrin spiralled when fighting King again after their actions caused such a catastrophic turn of events for Bonnie. Every time after that, the fight with King felt tense and nerve-wracking in a dreadful way. Because even victory could not soothe the dread I felt. (The track 'It's finally over" will forever haunt me. I already feel anxious whenever it cycles to that when I listen to the playlist)

He was not, however, the final villain, even though everything that happened was King's fault. You were always your greatest enemy (or Siffrin in this case, since you are supposed to be Siffrin). I never could have guessed that the whole reason why Siffrin could not escape the loops was because Siff accidentally wished to never let go of their friends. This reminds me of Modaka Magica, where (spoilers for the OG anime) Homura goes back in time so much that the universe ties itself around Modoka, making her a waiting egg whose wish and magic will be massive when she becomes a magical girl. The one thing Homura was trying to prevent.

(Siffrin and Homura are identical in that sense. Shy characters who are loyal to a fault but are rendered into something cold, bitter and cutting by their traumatic experiences. Only Siff has people who care about them and would do anything to save him, too, whereas Homura never lets go, making the world a worse place to live in. Yes, I did go into doomed Yuri. That anime lived in my mind rent-free in my mind for years)

The Head House-maiden not being the villain was also a great touch. I am used to the apparent antagonist turning out not to be the big bad and the trusted, friendly character ending up being the evil one. Twist villains no longer work when everyone expects them to be villains.

That was my biggest theory as I played. The second biggest being that Loop is someone who enjoys Siffrin's suffering. I am so glad that was also not the case. They are apathetic but not cruel. Never intentionally, anyway. They were like the player, urging Siffrin to go deeper into the mystery to solve it. Ultimately, I chose and made cold and cruel decisions simply because I wanted to see what would happen. So yeah, I warmed up to this cosmic star thing as the game went on and even started trusting them. Act 5 really is a punch in the gut. I am so sorry, Loop. Thank you for coming through in the end.

Oh man, this is so long, and I haven't even gone into the main cast. I will leave that for another post. They are such great characters, as are the people of Dormant and the House. (Don't think I don't see the wordplay in this game. Very clever)

Going into this game completely blind was the best experience I could have had. I felt anxious, happy and scared so severely that my neurons were rearranged. I don't know if there are more endings (aside from the obvious action of attacking Odile in the True(?) ending of the game), but I am taking a break from it to make art and write for this game before I dive back into despair-o-land.

Anywho, thank you for coming this far and reading my ramblings. Have a fantastic day or evening further! o(*'▽`*)ブ

[probablyhuntersmom]

I hadn't spotted these a year ago:

Oh my god, guys???!!! Parallels:

2. These are the same face - the Depression Face.

It tugs at my heart like nothing else, because...

3. Oooh never paid attention to this:

4. These lil' guys were moving and animated while sleeping here, aww:

5. The screenshot below, to me, is foreshadowing that Hunter may have expressed his wish to study at Hexside...but once that wish is actually granted, he too is gonna be depressed - at school, specifically - for months, and frustrated that he simply cannot be enthusiastic about classes the way he initially hoped. He'll push and push himself and judge himself for why he "can't even" enjoy lessons he's supposed to be excited about:

6. Do you think they took Hunter to the zoo's bird hall, before he carved Waffles (I personally view it as a good element of exposure therapy)? :

7. People usually put the S1 screenshot of Luz drawing light glyphs, next to the one with Flapjack fading away...but I saw this too:

It makes me wanna chew extra recycled cardboard about Luz and Flapjack parallels, specifically. Because of what they both offered to the world, if you think about it:

8. If Camila went through an outfit change like this in her nightmare:

Imagine the mayhem of Hunter's many nightmares with his many outfits :S

9. A really good reference for how Hunter healed pre-timeskip, is this sequence, where the order has been altered a bit below:

(who knows, maybe Willow recorded a lot of vids of him on her scroll T___T)

10. Wow this sums up the show doesn't it:

11. Ugh you can't tell me that...they wouldn't have had a similar-ish mirror scene with Waffles and older Hunter to these, if we had a full S3 or more seasons:

Him approaching a mirror with no palisman beside him...I can't imagine how that was in those horrible months. (Maybe he does this before heading out to conduct a Palisman Adoption Day)

12. I feel really happy, confidently believing that he unlearned this body language:

in the presence of adults, especially his new parental figures. Coercive control wasn't a dominating theme in his life anymore. And while we didn't see it onscreen, he would've found the space to even initiate connection via physical touch with his parents, like what Luz naturally does here:

I say "physical touch" specifically, because to quote @idlescree's amazing video analyses, Hunter's own physical body - not just his mind - was the ultimate and most intimate battleground for Belos to exert control, by possessing Hunter and using him as a puppet in the most direct way possible. So for Hunter to get physically close to family to express love after Flapjack's death, in spite of terrible spooky thoughts that he might still gravely injure others...that isn't a small feat at all.

13. I think his casual sweater is a plain gold colour, and his cosplay outfit has its yellow colour: because he's still influenced by Belos.

The black of the wolf tee and in the cosplay, feel to me like foreshadowing of his post-possession grief. Even after Flapjack is gone, Hunter still thinks about Belos and is still walking around in the same cosplay outfit. His newfound freedom and healing is reflected in his timeskip design (calm midtones of orange and blue): when Belos has no more hold on him via a painful history. We would see a progression from the predominant darkness of the black colour to those peaceful midtones on his clothing.

14. Best one saved for last! It's a headcanon, but I draw a few connections. @childlikegoblinqueen and I were talking about him likely returning to the place where poor Flapjack was slain, even if it takes a number of years before he can do so. Waffles will be with him.

Imagine...instead of running frantically in the night:

he calmly strolls during a beautiful Halloween evening, with autumn leaves blowing in the wind once again:

There are no horrors awaiting him, and very importantly, he can believe that.

And he visits the spot at the lake, and puts his hand to his chest:

but for once, he can smile while doing that specific gesture. All the times that he has put a hand to his heart in the show, he wasn't smiling (link). He then leaves and then returns to his family (walking in the opposite direction of the portal above) to have an actually joyful Halloween celebration.

[selvyyr]

MY DEAR JUCTICE..

୧ ‧₊˚🌊⚖️⋅ ☆

|MASTERLIST!|

୧ ‧₊˚🌊⚖️⋅ ☆

↪Focalors sighed as she looked at her twin brother sudon and her dear friend micheal.. As she spoke

"This is my ending..I'll do anything for these poor people's souls out there that did sins for reason.."

Sudon looked at his twin sister [name] but she pefers to be called focalors..Micheal walks up to focalors as tears were already dropping from his eyes..As he spoke

"I'm so sorry [name] that my twin brother cheated on you and make you sacrifice yourself for him and the mortal souls ou there..."

As he wipes his tears way with his sleeve but more tears were dropping...Focalors smiled at micheal as she hugged him..Micheal wraps his arms around focalors but tighter..As he cried in her arms..

Sudon looked at focalors who was comforting micheal..Sudon knew lucifer was no good the time he noticed he was paying less attention to focalors and often going to the garden of eden..

As micheal sniffs as he wipes away his tears again..As he backed away from focalors...As sudon spoke

"We'll miss you..I can't imagine how i will survive without you.."

As focalors hugs sudon.. As sudon hugged her back..As they stopped few seconds later..Focalors looked to the sky.. The big sharp blue dragger floating in the sky..

Focalors sighed.. As she spoke again..

"If you two could ever meet lucifer again..Tell him that i died for him..I wonder how it will affect him..I hope you and the others will be fine in the future..And please don't attack or harm people in hell...It will be pointless if they attack sinners..And this act of mine will be useless..."

Micheal nodded quickly as he wrote her words in paper while sudon nodded..Micheal spoke

"I'll make sure he will suffer and be in sorrow for making you doing this.."

Focalors smiled at the two.. As she sighed nodding at the two..The other two backed away as focalors stood right down on the dragger...

As she begin to dance slowly.. The dragger begin follow her steps..Focalors closed her eyes and opened.. As she could see her memories she made with lucifer.. Her dear husband.. Well ex husband..

As she looked at the sky..The dragger right in front of her.. As she opened her arms smiling sadly with few tears dropping..

Then the dragger dropped right at her... As loud thud and dust was made.. Sudon's breath hitched.. As he looked at the scene right in front of him..

Focalors lifeless body right there laying on the ground.. Her upper body ripped.. Her golden heart that raced was now stopped racing..

Micheal ran up to her lifeless body.. As he hugged her..Not caring if her blood will on his clothes..He was the perfect twin..But now that's not the important thing..

Micheal cried.. As he held focalors' hand gently..Her golden blood sparing around her whole body..As micheal looked at sudon..He spoke

"I think.. We both agree to keep her body somewhere slince and quiet.."

Sudon nodded at micheal's words.. As they both went to somehwere..A garden that was filled with many different blue colour flowers..And in the middle a glass funeral that was white and having golden ironic flowers on the top..

As many years passed..Micheal often comes to the garden as he wishes focalors is doing fine and in peace..While sudon were haunting lucifer with nightmares..

..

..

..

..

Focalors looked around as she sighed..It has been alot of years since she sacrificed herself for the hell's safety..Well for lucifer's safety...She thought she'll die but it seems like it wasn't enough to make her die..

The memory flying into her head like a bird flying in the same oath ad always...

..

..

..

Focalors sighed.. As she was held by someone..Her body shaking sightly.. As she cried into the person's arms..As the person hugged her..

Focalors looked at the person as she spoke with shaky voice.. Her tears streaming down from her cheeks..As the person spoke..

"You are in celestial..A realm that only people who changed the universe's path.. And it seems like you did something to change the path..It's fine..I'll protect you...My name is eternal.."

Focalors spoke again.. Her tears lowering a bit as she stopped shaking a bit..

"My name is [name].. But i will be pefers to be called focalors.."

Eternal smiled at focalors.. As they hugged each other..Eternal's large wings wrapping around focalors gently..

..

..

..

That was the first time when she came to celestial..Focalors looked around as she sighed.. The court room was empty..As usual a normal court day..

Focalors got up from her luxury chair.. As she took her scale..The scale were gold the right one having blue butterfly while the left one had black butterfly..

Focalors exited the court room.. As she walked outside people bowing and greeting her.. As she greeted them back and waved..She stopped at a certain café

A bell spund were heard.. As sika smiled sweetly.. As he spoke

"Welcome miss focalors!Same order as always?"

Focalors smiled at sika as she nodded at his words..Sika gave thumbs up to focalors.. As he went to the kitchen while focalors took her usual seat..Few minutes later sika came out with [favorite cake] and coffee as he places it on the table.. As he spoke

"Enjoy miss focalors!I'm really happy to welcome anytime!I know it's hard being the celestia of justice.."

Focalors smiled at him.. As she spoke

"Thank you for your kind words sika..I really love your food,it gives me energy..Yes indeed it is hard.."

Sika nodded.. As he went to the other customers that entered the café..As he took their orders.. Focalors took a bite from the cake.. As she felt the sweetness of the cake..Always nice and soft..

She looked at glass window.. As she wondered how heaven and hell is doing..She hoped that hell is safe..

..

..

..

..

..

↪Sudon looked at sera as he grinned his teeth harshly...While micheal looked at her with disgusted look on his face... As he spoke

"How dare you sera,do you have any mind?You officially broke focalors' wish?!Now she sacrificed herself for nothing but a total disaster.Don't you know rules?Did you broke one of the rules that angels either winners can't attack or harm people in hell.That would mean we broke focalors' wish and broke her promise.I hope you know this leads you to harsh punishment.Take her away."

Micheal sighed as he breathed out heavily..How stupid was he..He was so focused on his work so mich that he didn't notice that sera let adam and some angels harm people in hell...

Now focalors is disappointed on them.. In him...How didn't he notice...Sudon growled.. As he bit his lips..

Micheal looked at sudon.. As he spoke

"i think we should make a meeting with the morningstars..And discuss some stuff..And i heard a sinner called" Sir pemtious"got redeemed.. "

Sudon nodded slowly.. As he wrote a letter as he blew it to the sky..The letter spreading as golden dust..

While charlie took the letter.. As she gives it to her dad.. As she spoke

"Dad,i think this is for you.."

As lucifer looked at the letter.. As he opened it slowly as he read it..His eyes widening..As he spoke

"heaven wants a meeting with us charlie.."

As charlie's eyes widened like her dad's.. As she smiled.. As she spoke

"Mabye,they fanilly agreed with my idea dad!"

As charlie happily ran to her girlfriend vaggie who listened charlie..

Lucifer's breath hitched..Was focalors there..? Does shen forgave him probably not...He broke her heart..He saw how she smiled that smile a sad one... Tears forming in her eyes.. While micheal were glaring at him..

Lucifer wanted to apologize...He knew it won't do much.. But he wants to apologize to her...Mabye they could stay as friends...

..

..

..

..

..

↪Lucifer looked at sudon and micheal with the others looking at him... As micheal explained that redemption was real and a sinner called "sir pemtious" got redeemed..

As a silence were in the air.. As lucifer spoke..

"Sooo...Where's focalors..?"

Everyone looked at him with unreadable look..As sudon łooked at lucifer with anger in his eyes.. As micheal nodded to sudon..

Sudon then spoke

"How can you ask something like that when you are the reason she's gone."

Lucifer had confused look on his face..She's gone because of him..? How..Did she do something.. As lucifer were about to spoke..Sudon shouted

"SHE SACRIFICED HERSELF FOR YOU AND THE HELL'S SAFETY!THE BLOOD SHE WASTED ON YOU WAS SO PAINFUL.TO WATCH HER DIE WAS EVEN MORE PAINFUL!AND GUESS WHAT?YOU LET THE ANGELS ATTACK.AND THAT LEADS NOTHING BUT FOCALORS SACRIFICED HERSELF FOR NOTHING!?"

Lucifer's eyes widened.. As his breath stuck in his throat..Focalors sacrificed herself for him...For his safety..Then he remembered..

"I'll sacrifice myself for you lucifer..Even if it means that i will be gone forever.."

These words that focalors told him before he cheated on her..So she really kept that promise to him..How stupid is he...

Then micheal spoke

"The meeting is over,everyone go!"

As everyone flew away.. While a portal opened..Lucifer and charlie entering the portal.. Before the portal disappered.. Micheal shouted at lucifer

"You disappointed her because you let them harm the hell people."

That was the last words lucifer heard..

How could he...

He thought that focalors was alive..

But no.. She sacrificed herself for him..

Why didn't he notice it sooner..

How can he be so stupid..

..

..

..

..

"I'm so sorry my dear [name].. I disappointed you.."

..

..

..

..

୧ ‧₊˚🌊⚖️⋅ ☆

A/N:how do you like this lol,took me hours to write bc i was also doing chores.Hope you all liked this!<3,have a nice day/evening/night!<3

୧ ‧₊˚🌊⚖️⋅ ☆

[dryemiddi]

DRAW THIS IN YOUR STYLE: SUMMER BAD SANSES EDITION!!!

So I hit 5000+ followers earlier this year! Crazy, right? I was at a complete loss for what to even do, and for months I froze up from the pressure of what I could possibly to do celebrate it.

Even though I've never done one of these before, I wanted to give this a shot! (This was totally not inspired by @/zucchiyeni it's fine don't worry about it)

RULES:

The art has to be set in a beach or similar summer scenery. It doesn't have to be a full background; it can be as simple as a blue sky or implying a beach scene with the characters holding pool toys and beach umbrellas.

You can use any of the main members of the Murder Gang as the central focus of the piece: including Horror, Killer, Dust, Nightmare and Cross. Other characters (including your own!) can be included alongside any of the aforementioned murder gang members.

Characters must be in some form of summer attire: be it swimsuits, cheesy Hawaiian shirts, bikinis, or even sundresses! The more creative and/or elaborate you get with it, the better!

Bonus points if there's food involved. You can't go wrong with a good summer treat.

No art theft, stealing, tracing, etc. Y'all know the drill.

Please use the hashtag #hotmurdergangsummer and tag me @dryemiddi or I might not find your work!

Apart from all that... go wild! Have fun and get creative with it!

DEADLINE: THE AUTUMN EQUINOX ON SEPTEMBER 23, 2023 (4pm EST)

And what would a DTIYS Challenge be without some Prizes:

1st place: Fully rendered bust up shot of a character of your choice (reference required)

2nd place: Partially rendered head shot of a character of your choice (reference required)

3rd place: Coloured sketch head shot of a character of your choice (reference required)

Have fun y'all! And let's make the most of this summer!

[iouinotes]

"The Cole Effect" | Cole Walter

pairing: Cole Walter x female!reader

show: My life with the Walter Boys

warnings: smut, but just a little (I had to after seeing him in that last scene)

word count: 4k

summary: Cole asks the reader out on a date and after he convinced her, they spend a fun (if you know you know) evening together.

a/n: please pretend that his restored car has backseats...thanks (also I'm sorry for the way this ff ended. I wanted to write smut all the way, but it just didnt feel right anymore after the first half. So please enjoy the rest of it and bear with me...)

"So, when do I pick you up?"

He leans against my locker, looking over my shoulder and reading my notes. "Cole, how many times do I have to tell you? I dont have the time and patience, I'm sorry-" sighing I look at him, studying his smug grin.

"You have the chance to get to know me better. In my opinion, that sounds like the perfect way to spend the afternoon." He smiles at me, his eyes scanning my face.

The fact is, I didnt want to fall in love with him and I knew, if I would let him take me out, it wouldnt turn out for the best. Well, mostly for me. He would probably date the next woman, that would catch his eye. And I would be on his list, sitting at home on the weekends and waiting for him to call. No, that wasnt how I planned to spend my time.

I mean, he obviously is very handsome, blonde hair, dreamy eyes, pink lips that somehow always look kissable. And to be honest, sometimes when I get lost in a daydream, forgetting about the math class, he appears in my head. Always smiling as bright as the sun. I dont know what it is, but something about him is so attractive, I dont even know how to discribe it.

Of course, I'm not the only one who feels that sort of attraction. His magical appearance, how he talks, walks, smiles, flirts.

It´s called "the Cole effect". For most of the time, I didnt really get it. But as soon as his eyes landed on me, as soon as he talked to me, trust me, I got it. He is charming, enchanting, funny and he has a way with words that makes it addictive to hear his voice.

It´s crazy, but it is reality.

When I look at him now, I feel another pair of eyes watching me. Erin. The girl, who is in a on-off realtionship with him. Cole has many women, who want him, not just because he is popular. But because he is what every girl dreams of. Thats the problem, he is a dream till he gets bored and then you find yourself in your own nightmare.

"Its just- I cant. Also, there is a really pretty and wonderful girl, standing right next to you, thats been waiting for you to notice her." I never unterstood how Cole could want someone else, when Erin existed.

"Well, Im currently talking to her, so I know when to pick her up." His eyes stay clued to me. Confused, I draw my eyebrows together. "But Erin is this way-" I turn my head to look at her, but at the same second I feel a finger tenderly turning my head back. I freeze, butterflies awake in my stomach and I have to keep myself from looking too flustered by his gesture. Of course, my body has its mind of his own, so I feel my cheeks turn red.

At that, he grins. "I know you feel it, beautiful. One date, thats all Im asking for. I promise, you will have a good time." Im too caught up in my emotions to think reasonable. So I quietly nod and feel myself holding my breath, when he leans down to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. His finger again, linger slightly on my cheek.

"See you then, 9 o'clock. I'll be on time, you have my word." Winking, he turns around and walks down the aisle.

Finally I get to breath again.

☀️☀️☀️☀️

Why the fuck did I agree to this? Standing infront of my mirror, I look at my summer dress, warm yellow colour with beautiful, little sunflowers on it. It was the dress, I got a lot of compliments for. But then again, what was my intention with wearing this dress? Im not sure.

While I pick out a golden necklace in the shape of a sun and put on a few bracelets, I leave my hair down and the way it always is. I don't want him to think that I'm trying too hard.

He knows the truth anyway.

A few minutes later, I hear the doorbell ring and with one last, deep breath I open the door. If I'm honest, I would have liked to close it straight away. Because there's no way to avoid staring at him the whole time when he looks like that. Wearing blue jeans, slightly oversize, a white tank top and his red jersey. He looks hot, in a way I want to spend the rest of the day, riding something other than his car. God, help me survive this.

To my suprise, he is quiet the gentleman. He compliments my dress, he holds the door open to his car, he lets me pick the music and as I sit in the passanger seat, listining to Taylor Swift, I smile to myself. Unfortunetely I´m not very subtle about it, because he asks me right away about my good mood.

"I dont know, Im just having a good time, I guess." I look at him, while he is focusing on the road. I see one of his hand rising, so he dramatically holds onto his chest.

"I'm hurt. Did you think, I was that boring?" Laughing, I shake my head. "No, its not that. To best honest, I didnt expect myself to enjoy today." I turn my head and look at my lap, fiddling with my fingers. "Why not?" I see his head looking in my direction, a curious tone in his voice.

"I´ve had a hard time this last year, everything with school and you are- I mean, I dont know what intention do you have with me? Im not a one night stand type of person, I want something real. You know, like in the love songs, the real feelings, a real relationship. With a person, who wants me the same way, I feel about them. I think, thats the reason Im not sure, if this-" I gesture between us "is a good idea."

He´s quite for a moment and I feel more embarassed, the more seconds pass.

"Im sorry. I didnt mean that we´re going to be, you know like a thing. I respect your decision to spend your time with other girls, I didnt mean it is something bad. Its just-" He finishes my sentence. "-not for you. I know." His eyes are on the road, but I see his hands nervously tapping the wheel.

"Sorry, if I just crashed the vibe. I didnt intend to do it." I look at my hands. "No, its okay. Dont be sorry. I like your honesty. You know, you state your point. Thats good."

We look at each other and I try to search in his eyes for a sign, that he´s pissed. But he just lightly smiles at me, reaching out and holding my hands. While one of his hands is still on the wheel, of course. I feel myself blushing.

"Look, lets not pretend that I´m the best choice for a relationship or boyfriend material. Because I´m not and you knew that, even before you agreed to spend the afternoon with me. So, I´m just curious. Why did you change your mind?"

His thumb is massaging the back of my hand and I try not to settle with this warm feeling in my chest. "Because you dont give up that easily and it's hard not to give in to you." I see a smile tuck at his lips. "You think so?" I role my eyes.

"You know the affect you have on people, Cole. It wouldnt suprise me, if you run for president and won. People like you." He laughs at my comparison, turning the wheel and driving into the driveway to a nice restaurant. When he parks the car and turns of the light, he turns in my direction and looks at me.

"Do you like me?"

The question suprises me. "What?" I laugh quietly. "You said, people like me. So, do you like me too?" His eyes search mine.

"Well, if I would hate you, I think i wouldnt have agreed to go to dinner with you." He leans forward.

"Well you could just be here for the food?" I grin at him. "You got me, Im just hungry, sorry. Can we go in and be silent the entire time?" His hands are still holding mine, but now one of them is caressing my arm, leaving me with goosebumbs.

We sit in silent, but when he opens his mouth to break the comfortable atmosphere, Im shocked by his honest words.

"Well, I like you. You´re funny, endearing, honest and smart. You are nice to everyone, even if you have do deal with a guy like me, who gets on your nerves, so you agree to go on a date with him. It´s something about you, that is special and I would like to get to know you better. If you do, I promise you´ll get more food."

I smile at his last sentence, even though I dont know what to say. "God, you´re making me speechless." He leans even closer. "I can do many other things, that can make you speechless." At that I look at his lips. I see him grin and when I look up again, he is even closer than before.

"There are two choices now. One, we go into his lovely restaurant and talk about god knows what or two, we test whether the seats can be tilted backwards." At his voice I feel myself getting flustered. God knows, I would love to test what the car is capable of. But we´re out in a driveway, infront of a restaurant and people could see us. And even though I´m not really against the idea, its to early.

"Or three, we eat first and maybe later, you show me why I need to hate you less." He rises his eyebrows. "So you really are just here for the food." I laugh. "I guess, I am."

The time we spend in the restaurant was wonderful. I didnt expect us to connect this way, its like he just gets me. We ate a huge meal, in the end we almost forget to pay and I feel myself being so entchanted to him.

Even though the waitress tried to flirt with him (which by the way is rude, because what about girls support girls?), he kept his attention on me, also reaching out infront of her and taking my hand. I really couldnt tell myself to stop imagining, what it would be like, if we were a couple.

I mean, its ridiculous, because he made it very clear, that he didnt want to be in a relationship. But still, a girl could dream, right? Right.

After we did pay (much to the relief of the waitress), we went outside and walked a few minutes along a path, our hands entangled by the time we got back to the car. I didnt want to admit it, but he managed to make me fall in love with him in one day.

And even though I was scared, he made me feel alive. I couldnt concentrate on anything over than him, his sweet compliments, his eyes that kept looking at my lips, his arm that went around my shoulder to keep me warm.

He was so caring, it made me loose my mind. I didnt want the night to end. So when we were back in his car on the way home and he asked me, if I wanted to see his new car, I agreed.

We talked on the way back about our interests. He told me about his passion for football, even though he didnt get to play anymore and about his fascination for restoring cars. I told him about my love for books and that I would rather spend the day waching a new Netflix series, than doing sports. We talked about our goals for the future and that we both want to get out of this town, finally seeing something new.

By the time we arrived at the ranch and he parked the car outside the door, it felt like I knew his past selve, his present and future self. I never had a date like this before, something so honest and great.

But I mean, I also never knew a person like Cole before, so maybe that is the reason.

☀️☀️☀️☀️

When we arrived, it was dark outside, but because it´s summer, neither one of us felt cold. "Is it okay for me to be here? I mean, are your parents cool with you, bringing a girl home?" I look to the house, checking if some of his family members are still awake, but no lights are seen. "As long as they dont know about it, they´re cool." He grins at me and I shake my head.

"Come on, I want to show you what I´ve been working on for the last months." He leads me, one of his hands on my back to the garage, opening the door and letting me in. Its dark inside, but I hear him shifting around to find the switch to turn on the light. When I hear a click and the light flickers on, I look around and at the tools, all the stuff standing around and finally at the car.

He´s standing next to it, a proud smile on his face. "So, what do you think?" Im walking towards him, inspecting his work. "I mean, I dont have a clue about cars, but it looks really good and like it was restored by a proffesional." My fingers run over the open hood.

When he carefully closes it a few seconds later, I look up and see him watching me. "What?" I say, starring back. He takes a step towards me, searching in my gaze, trying to make out if I want this the same way, he wants to feel me. But as I stand still, waching him get closer, centimeter by centimeter, until our faces almost touch, I feel myself breathing heavily.

His hands sneak around my waist, pulling me gently closer to him. He turns around, so he leans onto the car, directing me, so I stand between his legs. I feel myself getting hot, I hear his breath and watch his eyes trailing down to my lips and finally to my eyes. I do the same. And before I know it, he leans in and catches my lips in a captivating way. I feel myself melt.

One of my arms sneak around his shoulders, so I get closer to him. I feel butterflies fly around in my stomach, smiling in the kiss and when he breaks apart, he looks at me.

"Hate me less now?" He wispers.

"Not really, try again."

So he does. Our lips meet, our breath gets taken and I feel my knees weaken, when one of his hands capture my face. He holds me still and I feel every touch, my skin burns.

The temparature rises and when one of his hands travel down, first to my neck, then to my collarbone and lastly to my shoulders, his fingers hold the straps of my dress. Again, he breaks apart, so I open my eyes and immedialy want to kiss him again. Although my hands wander over his shoulder, Im not sure what to do now.

"Are you nervous?" His hands caress my sides, his question leaves me uncertain. I nod, not in the right state to use my words. At that, he gently smiles. "Then I will help you relax. You can do that for me right?"

His words make me clench my thights and I feel myself getting wet. When I nod again, he leans forward and wispers in my ear. "Good girl." That and that his lips nip at my ear and leave a wet trail at my neck, makes me whimper slightly. I feel him smirk, so he earns a light smack on his arm. He laughs quietly and when I open my eyes, his ones are shining with a hidding mischief.

"You enjoy this too much." I say it as a joke, but he takes it seriously. "I do, actually. I dreamt about you making these sounds a lot more often, than I would like to admit."

At that, I gasps. "You what?" I try to concentrate on his words, but his wandering hands dont help with that. He kisses me, but now he turns us around and presses me against the car. Helping me sit on it, so he can get between my legs.

"I said" he beginns to speak and his lips find a certain spot, that makes me moan. "I want to hear all the little sounds, that escape you." My hands wander to his hair, holding it and messing with it. His hands again find the straps of my dress and when I kiss him more passionate, he slowly beginns to pull it down. First the right side until he lets go of it, so he can pull the other one down. All that, while still kissing me.

I feel myself getting lost in him, his lips are like a drug and I feel myself getting addicted. When I feel the air hitting my skin, I break apart. He looks at me, checking if I’m still okay with what we´re doing. "What do you want to do?" he holds the straps of my dress, gesturing that he wants to get me out of it. I breath, trying to know, what I want.

I come to the simple conclusion, that I do want him. Even if its just for now. So I kiss him and try to strip him out his jacket. To do that, he lets go of my dress and it falls to the floor, leaving me in my underwear. His eyes scan my body as his hands caress my skin, his finger going from my shoulders to my breasts.

Breathing heavily I look at him. "Your turn." His hands leave my body and with a teasing smile he takes off his jacket, leaving me starring at his muscles.

One of his fingers turn my head to look at him. "You like what you see?" His grin says it all. My hands find their way to touch his arms, going further down until i tuck at his shirt.

"I would like you more without it." His eyes turn dark. Swiftly he strips off his tanktop, leaving us both starring at each other. Before I can do something else, his arms direct me to him.

"You´re having second thoughts about this, sunshine?" He´s touching my necklace.

"Have you?" I look at him, seeing him smile.

"Never." His hands go to my legs, so he can lift me up and my legs hold on to his hip. I lean towards him, kissing his neck and stopping by his ear.

"What do you want to do to me?" At that, he stands up, still holding me, while opening the door of his restored car and lays me gently on the back seats. He´s hovering over me, a look in his eyes that makes me shiver. When he leans down and presses a kiss on my chest, near my neck, I try to focus on my breathing.

"I want to do so many things to you." His hands tangle in my hair, lightly tugging on it while he leans down, his lips ghost over my own.

"I want to-" his voice goes quiet, I feel his hands touching my legs, breaking them apart, so he can sit between them. "-take of your panties first. Alright?" I nod, looking up to him. Slowly his fingers find my underwear, so he can slide them down and I get out of it.

When he holds them in his hands, he puts it in his pocket, because he still wears his jeans. He starts to kiss me, leaving my mind with a relaxed feeling, going further down, kissing my chest and my stomach, eventually leaving a kiss above the one spot, thats been dying to be touched.

"I already have you this wet, how sweet of you." When his hand comes down and touches me, sliding one finger gently over my folds, I try to hold myself together.

"You dont need to be quiet. Nobody can hear you." But when I keep holding in my moans, he takes it as a personal challenge. As he leaves kisses all over my body, his finger carefully begin to speed up and I feel my walls clenching.

"God, you´re so tight. How long havent you been touched?" His mouth his hot on my skin and when he adds a second finger, I moan loudly. My eyes squeeze shut at the feeling that consumes me, I cant concentrate on a word he says.

"Already too turned on to answer me, huh? Thats a shame, because Im curious to know the answer of my question." He stops the movements of his fingers, leaving me with a needy feeling. And when I try to move, he stills my hips.

"As much as I like to see you sqirm, I want you to answer me. Can you do that for me?" I try to remember his question. "I-I havent." He rises his eyebrows in confusion. "You what?" His fingers leave my body. When I open my eyes, I realise what he has been asking me.

"I-I havent been touched like that before." His mouth opens in disbelief. "You never had a boyfriend or someone you´ve been intimitated with?" I look at the ceiling of his car. "I mean, not really. I´ve dated someone once, but we didnt reach a level, where we got to this point. So, I never did something like this." I can see the conflict in his eyes. "You´re sure, you want me to be your first?" Its sweet, that he cares.

"I- I guess so, Im sure it wont be a bad experience with you." He quietly laughs. "I hope so, but I cant get my head around the fact, that this is your first time. I mean, youre beautiful and fun to be around." He´s silent for a moment. "You know, we dont have to go all the way, right? I wont be mad, if we stop here."

I think for a moment and while my hands trace his muscles, I try to sort out my thoughts. Now that his fingers are no longer distracting me, I try to understand my feelings.

"We should maybe take it slow? I do want to get to know you better, before-" I dont have to finish the sentence, he just nods and when he smiles at me, I feel myself relax.

"That´s okay, don´t worry. I can drive you home, if that is what you want?" My eyes are searching for a sign, that he is mad. But he just gently brushes my hair aside and kisses the side of my mouth.

„I like you. That means, so we are clear here, that I want you to want me. And if thats the case, which I hope so, then we dont need to rush anything. If the time is right, who knows what will happen. Even if that means, I need to beg you to go out with me again.“

I raise my eyebrows, laughing at his words.

„You would do that?“ He shrugs, smiling at me.

„For you, I would.“

[profound-imagination]

Little Witch - Ruhn Danaan - Part 2

A/N: It’s finally here, part two of Little Witch. This part is for @sweetshifter and @sweetshifter only.

T/W: Mentions of torture, nothing too descriptive but it’s there!

W/C: 1.7k

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Ruhn was growing frustrated. He had no right to be. He’d caused this, his actions had brought about her silence again but gods how he missed her voice. It didn’t help that he had a sneaking suspicion she spoke freely to the others when he wasn’t around, she spoke to Ithan at the very least if not the others. Smug little Pup.

He couldn’t complain though, she’d stuck by him through every step of his ongoing healing. She tended his wounds, pulled him out of nightmares and cast little balls of light in her hands when the entire room was shrouded in his shadows as a result. She’d wept silently as he and Lidia told their story, wept for her older sister when she learned the truth of Lidia’s life. Lidia in turn had sobbed for her baby sister when she told her own story, casting those starry eyed gazes at him that he’d missed so much when he entered the story. She attended every therapy session with him, the ones she knew about anyway, and held his hand. His silent pillar of strength.

He could hear the thump thump thump of the music blaring through the house as he approached. Flynn must’ve been throwing another party, the guest list was small these days. The three found brothers who were now five if he counted Ithan and Tharion, which he did. Bryce and Hunt. Lidia and his Little Witch. No one heard the door open as he strolled in although he knew Dec knew he was there and approaching the house long before he first heard the music, yes, his brother was that good. He couldn’t help the grin that split his face when he took in the scene in the living room. Bryce perched on Hunt’s lap in the beaten up armchair, Dec with a laptop in one hand, beer in the other, Lidia and Tharion chatting on the sofa. Flynn was dancing on the coffee table, screaming the lyrics at the top of his lungs, Ruhn’s Little Witch on his back, arms wrapped around Flynn’s neck, mouthing the lyrics along with him a brilliant smile on her face. “You’re going to drop her, Flynn!” Ithan was hissing from his seat, leant right forward ready to catch her when Flynn did drop her. “No I won’t, Pup! I’m completely in control-“ famous last words as Flynn’s foot slipped and he fell, Y/N let out a scream as she lost her grip on Flynn and a purely Fae protective possessiveness flared through Ruhn.

He snarled at his friend as he caught her, her doe eyes looking up at him, a brilliant smile on her face. “Hi there.” He purred at her and delighted in the colour that flared in her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around his neck in a greeting hug and then untangled herself from him and pulled Flynn to his feet. But Ruhn knew in his bones, in his very soul, that the peace they had found wouldn’t last forever.

Tuesday started like any other day, you’d woken up with Ruhn curled around you like he always was, whether you’d fallen asleep in his bed or yours, you always woke up with his strong arms wrapped around you, your head tucked under his chin, his heat radiating into your back. You weren’t sure why you hadn’t spoken to him again. There was no doubt that you were irrevocably in love with this male but every time you opened your mouth to speak, to maybe tell him, the whole thing flashed through your mind again, the hurt. Losing him. The dress you never got to wear, the ball you never got to go to. Ruhn shifted pulling you from your thoughts and pulling you with him, turning you as he went.

He smiled up at you as you took in his beautiful face. “Good morning, Witchling.” He said, tightening his arms around your waist. You smiled at him and nuzzled your face into his neck. “What have you got planned today?” He asked into your hair, you shrugged in response. “I’m heading out with the guys, we got a tip off on the DreadWolves, Tharion, Ithan and Lidia are following up on one about Pollux, are you gonna be okay here by yourself?” He asked, lifting your head to look at him. You smiled and nodded at him and pointed to his bookshelf, he grinned, “I can’t wait to hear about which one you picked when I get home.”

You’d been pottering around the kitchen having decided to bake, Ruhn had once told you that lemon cake was his favourite, maybe if you couldn’t tell him you could show him how you felt. It was a good idea in theory, but standing in the kitchen covered in flour was proving the opposite, still you persisted. Studying the recipe so hard you almost didn’t hear the front door swing open. No, not swing, bang open. You turned, a sense of dread filling you at what you’d find behind you, still clutching the mixing bowl.

Devastatingly beautiful was the only way to describe Pollux Antonius as he filled the doorway, smiling a lover’s smile at you. “Well, I can see why Princey is keeping you locked away, a perfect mix of your two sisters, beautiful little thing.” He purred. Terror seized your body as he took a step towards you. “Your friends won’t make it back to you in time, Mordoc is giving them the runaround.” He took another step towards you, “Now, be a good girl, don’t run, it’ll only make this worse, don’t fight and I promise you won’t suffer for long.” He grinned. You finally convinced your limbs to unlock and move and you launched the mixing bowl at him and fled the room.

He was on you in two strides and pain lanced through you as he threw you into the wall. All the air left your lungs as you slid down the wall and rallied your power. You could do this, you could control the power, the power didn’t control you. Ruhn had been training you, so had Flynn and Dec, you could do this. “Ah ah ah” Pollux crooned as he knelt in front of you, “None of that nasty raw power of yours, sweetheart.” He sneered as he snapped a pair of cuffs onto your wrists, not Gorsian, no, these were the same cuffs the Witches had used. You screamed as they embedded themselves into your wrists and drained your power from you. “It’s funny how giving the Witches are now they’ve turfed your sister off of her throne.”

He dragged you by the wrists into the garden, your back scraping against the floor, towards the trees and hung you between two of them and began. You screamed until you could scream no more and he talked and talked, spitting his venom, apparently Ruhn had given him nothing but attitude during their time together. You smirked at that. Of course he had. “But you, hurting you,” he crooned, “hurts all of them, Princey, Lidia, the Pup, and when they come back and find you dead it will fracture them all so much their little rebellion will fall apart.” You mustered the little fight you had left and spat at him.

The pain got worse then as he started carving out parts of you. “I wonder if I cut out enough if I’ll find the source of the raw power you possess, take it for myself.” He asked as he brought his dagger to his mouth and licked the blood from the blade. You blocked him out then, his words and his ministrations. Ruhn, you thought of Ruhn. Of his kindness, his smile, his persistence! He never gave up on you, not once, he was still there, still fighting for your words, words you never gave him and now you never would. Blackness started creeping in the edges of your vision. Ruhn, Ruhn, Ruhn.

There was nothing but endless blackness and pain. Was this death? Was there really no peace? “Baby, no! Please, please come back!” Ruhn? You span, searching for him but he was nowhere. “Little Witch, can you hear me? Please come back, don’t leave me! You don’t get to leave me!” Was he crying? You could hear other things as well now, a wolf was howling, Ithan, that was Ithan. Flynn was shouting. “Shock her again!” Tharion, that was Tharion, “Hunt! Shock her again!” “I can’t! Not with Ruhn there!” A snarl, that was unmistakably Ruhn. “All of you move!” Declan. “Baby please wake up!”

You weren’t going to wake up, you were sure of it. “Goodbye Ruhn, I love you.” You weren’t sure how his mind speaking worked, he’d never tried it again after it had terrified you that first time. Then there was a primal roaring in your head. “No! You don’t get to do this! You don’t get to say goodbye, that love you me like this! You wake up and tell me that!” Ruhn growled into your head. “Hunt, shock her again, I’ll move.” Pain splintered through you as he let you go.

You gasped as your eyes flew open and your lungs burned. There was so much pain running through your body. Declan was knelt next to you, his healing magic working the best it could on the cuffs he was trying desperately to remove. Ithan sat at your back, supporting you, keeping you upright. Then there was Ruhn. “Don’t you ever scare us like that again!” He growled as he ran his hands through his hair. Blood, he was covered in blood, as if reading your thoughts he said “He’s gone, he’s dead, he won’t hurt you or anyone else ever again.” Lidia knelt next to Ruhn, “I’m so sorry, Y/N, this is all my fault.” It almost killed you to move your arm to grasp your sisters hand but you did it anyway and gave her a weak smile before looking back to Ruhn.

“I love you, you big idiot.” You croaked, and his face shuttered, fresh tears fell down his face. “I love you too, Little Witch.” You smiled at him weakly, “Let’s get you inside and healed up, then you can tell me about how much you love me.” He grinned down at you. You reached up with the hand that wasn’t holding Lidia’s and wiped his tears away, “Okay, Ruhn.”

[novlr]

How do you write a dream sequence?

Dream sequences allow writers to tap into the mysterious and sometimes bizarre world of dreams, exploring the subconscious and integrating symbolism and metaphor into their storytelling. Dreams can reveal a character's deepest fears, desires, and motivations in ways that may not be immediately obvious in the waking world. Writing a dream sequence can be challenging, but it's also an opportunity to let your imagination run wild, bringing your characters and stories to life in powerful and unforgettable ways.

What makes a good dream sequence?

Dream sequences should mimic actual dreams: chaotic, disorienting, yet meaningful. Readers should experience the same confusion and vividness they would in their own dreams.

A good dream sequence should give insight into a character's inner world while also advancing the story. To achieve this, it's important to strike a balance between the logical structure of the narrative and the illogical nature of dreams.

Vivid imagery: Dreams are often hyper-real, so the more vivid your descriptions, the more captivating and immersive the dream becomes.

Sensory details: In dreams, senses are often heightened, and evoking the senses can both enhance and subvert expectations

Symbolism: Everything has meaning in dreams. Dream sequences use symbols to foreshadow, hint, and reinforce.

Emotion: Using emotion in dream sequences allows characters to explore their heightened state, and expose their feelings on events.

Confusion: Dreams can be illogical and disjointed. By disorienting both your characters and readers, you can explore new narrative avenues.

Representation of desires or fears: Dreams often reflect our subconscious thoughts and emotions, and the images and events in the dream can reveal important information about the character's inner world.

Types of dream sequences

There are several different types of dream sequences that you can use in your writing. Each type serves a different purpose and can be used to convey different information about your characters and their inner worlds.

Foreshadowing: Dreams that set up or hint at future events in the narrative.

Nightmares: Dreams that evoke fear or anxiety in the dreamer and can reveal their deepest fears.

Lucid dreams: Dreams where the dreamer is aware that they are dreaming and can control what happens.

Fantasy dreams: Dreams that involve fantastical elements, such as talking animals or magical powers.

Recurring dreams: Dreams that happen over and over again and may represent unresolved issues in the dreamer's life.

Realisation dreams: Where something “clicks” for a character that they couldn’t figure out while awake.

Internal conflict: Dreams that give a colourful illustration of a character’s inner turmoil, letting the writer show, not tell.

Linked dreams: Dreams that allow two characters to communicate while asleep through a shared connection.

Quick tips for writing dream sequences

Dream sequences can add a unique and captivating element to any story, but they can be difficult to write. To ensure that your dream sequences are engaging, there are three things to keep in mind.

Firstly, apply logic, but remember that the dream needs to function as a scene and needs some sort of narrative.

Secondly, use narrative distance to create a floaty, dreamlike feel that makes your readers feel they're dreaming too.

Finally, use detail to create a certain atmosphere, either vague and eerie or overcrowded and stressful. Take care not to overdo it and make your readers uneasy to the point of wanting to walk away.

[whinlatter]

underrated hinny moments that make my heart hurt: shell cottage 🐚

'They were all sitting in the living room when he entered the little hall, their attention focused upon Bill, who was talking. The room was light-coloured, pretty, with a small fire of driftwood burning brightly in the fireplace. Harry did not want to drop mud upon the carpet, so he stood in the doorway, listening...'

i just wanted to say a little bit about an underrated hinny moment from of my favourite chapters in deathly hallows, the wandmaker. i love this chapter (and the one after it, also at shell cottage) for so many reasons: the rich visual imagery of the survivors finding their way to the sea; the symbolism of harry preparing the grave by hand for dobby's burial, foreshadowing his own death '('deeper and deeper Harry sank into the grave...'); ron and dean silently joining harry in digging dobby's grave, three soldiers burying a comrade, and both dean and ron offering up items of clothes to dobby as a tribute for dobby's sacrifice... it's all just gorgeous.

but… the hinny moment tho. the hinny scene in this chapter is so tiny and quiet but it's also so sad and so good. ok let’s get into it.

the chapter begins in the immediate aftermath of dobby's death. ginny hasn't been mentioned in the past seventy pages, since early january, with the trio's visit to the lovegood house (the group arrive at shell cottage in mid-march). the last time ginny was mentioned, harry was in devon, looking out to the burrow, realising how close they were to each other, thinking of her but being glad of her safety away from him. that day, he also saw her painted face alongside the others on luna's bedroom ceiling (friends.. friends... friends...) of course, it's at the lovegoods that harry learns the tale of the three brothers, and hears about the deathly hallows for the first time. this is a plot point that, with hindsight, we know foreshadows harry's mortal fate. (on ginny and the intertwined plotlines of hallows/horcruxes/harry's death, see here).

this chapter, then, begins with the little group, having just arrived, confronting terrible tragedy. the scene is reminiscent of the last time harry crash landed, panicking and grieving, in a place of safety: the burrow, after the seven plotters rescue, after hedwig’s death. of course, in that moment, harry is met by ginny: he wants to hold her and find comfort in her; ginny holds his hand and stays close. as we’ll see, there’s a trend in the later stages of the series: whenever harry is grieving, ginny is close by.

harry’s not in devon, this time, but in the neighbouring county of cornwall (two parts of the U.K. with these important historic ties as the two counties out on england’s jagged south-westernly peninsula jutting into the same stretch of sea). as soon as the chapter opens, harry's mind makes a callback to the last time harry staggered from a loved one's body:

'It was like sinking into an old nightmare; for an instant Harry knelt again beside Dumbledore’s body at the foot of the tallest tower at Hogwarts, but in reality he was staring at a tiny body curled upon the grass, pierced by Bellatrix’s silver knife.'

of course, when dumbledore lay dead at the foot of the astronomy tower, it was ginny and ginny alone who was able to get through to harry, to reach him and guide him away. this time, things are different. harry has no comfort here, no ginny present to catch him and receive him in his immediate grief: he's distanced mentally from the others at shell cottage, both by the fact of his loss and by the thoughts of voldemort and his fate that plague him now:

'The sea was rushing against the rock somewhere nearby; Harry listened to it while the others talked, discussing matters in which he could take no interest, making decisions.'

once the grave is dug, the little group gather together to bury dobby. there's another callback to dumbledore's death here - this time, it's to the funeral:

'He forced himself not to break down as he remembered Dumbledore’s funeral, and the rows and rows of golden chairs, and the Minister of Magic in the front row, the recitation of Dumbledore’s achievements, the stateliness of the white marble tomb. He felt that Dobby deserved just as grand a funeral, and yet here the elf lay between bushes in a roughly dug hole.'

harry returns to the memory of the funeral to contrast dumbledore's grand send off with dobby's humble one. but also, on some level, he's mentally returning to moments that were defined both by loss but also by the presence of what was, by his own description, 'his greatest comfort'. last time he said goodbye to a loved one, ginny was at his side - until, of course, the funeral had ended, the goodbye had been said, and harry had acted on his decision to let ginny go and embrace the solitary path left for him ('I've got things to do alone now’).

harry, grieving dobby, turns to the same coping strategies as he showed at dumbledore's funeral. a death means distancing himself from others ('I've got things to do alone now'); it means forcing himself not to break down ('[he] could not bear to hear these things, nor did he think his resolution would hold if he remained sitting beside her'), and it means pushing aside thoughts of his own grief and concentrating on the task left to him ('Moving felt much more bearable than sitting still...').

harry asks for the others for a moment alone, which they grant him. he then marks his friend's grave. the text is now heavy with foreshadowing. we are told, now, that harry has had a realisation as he dug the burial plot, though the details of this realisation is kept from the reader: we know it is somehow linked to the hallows and horcrux distinction. harry thinks about it now as he walks from the grave back to the house, hallows and horcruxes at the forefront of his mind.

'...his mind full of those things that had come to him in the grave, ideas that had taken shape in the darkness, ideas both fascinating and terrible...'

we will learn, in the next chapter, that the decision harry has made is not to race voldemort to the elder wand. he’s chosen to go after horcruxes, and not the hallows; not to become master of death, but to remain the chosen one. it’s such an important moment for harry: he’s choosing who he will be, setting things in motion, making a gamble that distinguishes himself both from voldemort and, he thinks, from dumbledore. he doesn’t know it yet, but this powerful - and shrewd - decision will cost him his life. and whenever harry takes a step closer to his own death...

cut to the next paragraph. immediately after this enormously significant line - of pivotal ideas taking shape in the darkness - we have this:

'They were all sitting in the living room when he entered the little hall, their attention focused upon Bill, who was talking. The room was light-coloured, pretty, with a small fire of driftwood burning brightly in the fireplace. Harry did not want to drop mud upon the carpet, so he stood in the doorway, listening.'

the setting here is important. it's domestic, homely, safe, similar to descriptions of the burrow, a kind of modest, warm, familial comfort. harry stands on the threshold of a room which is described as 'light-coloured' and 'pretty', with a bright fire lit. throughout the series, of course, signals for ginny throughout the text are always about light (especially natural light and sunlight), warmth and fire: obviously we have ginny's 'blazing look', but also her 'glowing like the setting sun' (CoS), her eyes 'reflecting the firelight' (OotP), her 'red hair flying like flames' (HBP), how looking at her is 'like gazing into a brilliant light' (DH). the mentioned prettiness of the room is also supposed to help usher in mention of a character that, in harry’s mind, is beautiful and lovely to behold. harry stands apart from the room and from the others: his fears about the mud are also supposed to reinforce how removed he is from the rest of the gathered group. still, these little descriptions give us little clues that a mention of ginny is coming.

as bill addresses the people gathered in this firelit pretty little room, the part of his monologue that harry's ears prick to is the mention of ginny:

'... lucky that Ginny’s on holiday. If she’d been at Hogwarts, they could have taken her before we reached her. Now we know she’s safe too.'

the mention of ginny here is significant for two reasons. first, news that ginny is safe is the first small piece of comfort harry gets after dobby dies. standing outside this warm, safe, sheltered little room, harry receives news that ginny is out of harm’s way, as are the other members of the weasley family, whom he loves. now both the reader and harry get this little bit of light in the darkness, confirmation that ginny is safe, but also allows her to resume her role in HBP, as some tiny comfort to harry in grief, even in absentia. (honestly i just love the image of harry in the doorway, grief-stricken, covered in mud, listening in the corridor to this one little tiny piece of good news about the girl he’s in love with).

secondly, though, i love how this brief mention allows ginny to enter the narrative of these scenes that are, at its core, about harry’s ultimate destiny in the voldemort/chosen one/horcrux v hallows arc. even when not physically present, ginny stands in as this one flickering little warm light - a little fire, burning still - that anchors harry even when he is making these huge choices that will take him into such deep forms of magic and down so solitary a path where no other character can really reach him. it deepens this connection in the reader’s mind between ginny and harry’s fate in ways that makes him thinking of her as he dies make such deep sense. ginny isn’t a subplot extraneous to the chosen one plot: she’s bound up in it, in this rich, complicated, sad way, not as someone who save this character from his fate, but is essential to sending him off at peace with it. so often when harry is closing in on the truth about the horcruxes and hallows, mentions of ginny are close by (see the kiss meta above). ginny is that important.

'[Bill] looked around and saw Harry standing there. “I’ve been getting them all out of the Burrow,” he explained. “Moved them to Muriel’s. The Death Eaters know Ron’s with you now, they’re bound to target the family—don’t apologise,” he added at the sight of Harry’s expression. “It was always a matter of time, Dad’s been saying so for months. We’re the biggest blood traitor family there is.” “How are they protected?” asked Harry.'

obviously, harry is harry-ing here - he wants to apologise for the risk and danger posed to the weasleys (especially because the reason for the trio's capture was his fault), and he demands information about how ginny and the rest of the weasleys will be kept safe going forward. he knows ginny is safe: he wants to make sure she stays that way.

what's also significant about this moment, though, is that it reinforces this dynamic that runs throughout DH as a book, which is that at all times the reader knows exactly where ginny is. ginny spends the majority book off stage, yet we're told when she's on the train to hogwarts, when she's back home for christmas, when she’s back for easter and moves to muriel's etc. when harry doesn't know where ginny is, during the battle - when she leaves the room of requirement at his instruction but then appears to vanish - it’s therefore deployed to detonate a deep sense of panic, where we see harry confront the worst possible reality, one he is unable to even bring himself to process, the prospect of ginny’s death ('and he wanted to find the other Weasleys, and above all make sure, make quite sure, that Ginny was not—but he could not permit that idea to form in his mind—'). when harry eventually goes to his death in the forest - the ultimate thing he will have to grieve: his own life — of course, it's ginny he comes across in the grounds, waiting to give him comfort one last time, to send him on his way. (see the forest meta again for a more thorough explanation of this).

after this short conversation with bill, harry cleans himself of the dirt and mud of the grave at the kitchen sink. it seems so trivial but i'm just obsessed with the extremely slow pace of this scene. the tempo is so unusual for the series, and there's this extremely compelling domesticity to it, which continues this ongoing association with ginny and the burrow in the reader's mind. harry slowly and methodically washes and dries his hands as he thinks, again, of dumbledore and the hallows, in this setting that feels like the end of the earth:

'Dawn was breaking over the horizon, shell pink and faintly gold, as he washed, again following the train of thought that had come to him in the dark garden . . . Harry dried his hands, impervious to the beauty of the scene outside the window and to the murmuring of the others in the sitting room. He looked out over the ocean and felt closer, this dawn, than ever before, closer to the heart of it all.'

in the rest of the chapter, of course, harry will make some of the most important choices he’ll ever make. he'll choose to talk first to griphook over ollivander, a choice he recognises as making the ultimate decision to hunt horcruxes over hallows. the conversations with these characters will each inch him closer to the end of his quest, and of his life. and he’ll think about who he is — who dumbledore understood him to be — and throw back veils of understanding to see himself most clearly for the first time, the most significant epiphany scene bar the later discovery of his own death in dumbledore’s office.

'You gave Ron the Deluminator . . . You understood him. . . . You gave him a way back . . . And you understood Wormtail too. . . . You knew there was a bit of regret there, somewhere. . . . And if you knew them . . . What did you know about me, Dumbledore?'

i really love these lines on their own terms, but i just think this chapter, and harry’s time at shell cottage, are some of the most significant statements of harry’s essence as a character we get in the whole series. we’re seeing who harry has become and all that dumbledore knew that he was: the core elements of harry, the cumulative weight of the preceding years on his shoulders, and the person made and moulded by everything he has been through up to this point. he's seeing clearly now. in his grief over dobby, he finally masters the connection with his mind and voldemort’s, using his grief and his love as a barrier, and chooses who he will be.

so i just think it means so much that ginny is brought, quietly, into the frame at this extremely pivotal point. she’s a little driftwood fire in a warm little family home by the sea, a brief moment of pause and safety and sanctuary, before the end; not holding harry back from his fate, but giving him some strength, some comfort, as he embraces it.

(ps: the next time ginny is mentioned, in the next chapter, shell cottage, it happens during this sweet little dinnertime scene by the fireplace, with romantic undertones with fleur worrying about bill in his absence, right before remus bursts in to announce that his own wife has just given birth to their son, with harry surrounded by all this talk of little families... ok i'll stop i'll stop but honestly):

A strong wind gusted against the cottage windows as Bill and Ollivander set off into the night. The rest of them squeezed in around the table; elbow to elbow and with barely enough room to move, they started to eat. The fire crackled and popped in the grate beside them. Fleur, Harry noticed, was merely playing with her food; she glanced at the window every few minutes; however, Bill returned before they had finished their first course, his long hair tangled by the wind. "Everything's fine," he told Fleur. "Ollivander settled in, Mum and Dad say hello. Ginny sends you all her love...'

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

hi! i just saw your analysis of the “treasure of my heart” quote and omg you have a GIFT for analysis! In that post you mentioned the “Rare Spices” billboard Inej talks about in CK; I’d love to hear more of your thoughts on that!

Hi, thank you so much!!! I personally think that the “Rare Spices” advert is one of the most important pieces of information we get to further both worldbuilding and charactisation, so let’s talk about it.

The advert is massive sign painted on the side of a warehouse in Ketterdam, near Sweet Reef, and alongside the words “Rare Spices” it depicts two young Suli women in “scant silks”, mimicking those that Inej was forced to wear at the Menagerie. When she’s first liberated from Tante Heleen, Inej begins to explore Ketterdam and one of the first things she sees beyond the city centre is this advert. It terrifies her. It terrifies her so much that she stands there just staring at it for an unspecified amount of time, before turning and running back to the Slat faster than she has ever run before. In fact, it terrified her so very much that she has a nightmare about the girls on the billboard that night. In Inej’s nightmare the girls come to life but are trapped in the paint, banging on the billboard to get her attention to ask her to free them, whilst she is powerless to help them. Inej at the time comments on the horror of seeing this scene mere miles from where “the rights to her body” were bought and sold and haggled over (I think most of that is quotation but I don’t have my books to hand so I’m not 100% sure), and it tells us so much about how the Suli culture is exploited and fetishised within this community; whether it’s Ketterdam, the rest of Kerch, or the world at large (we could argue this is highly implied through Zoya’s POV, but it’s a whilst since I read KoS and RoW so if anyone wants to weigh in on Zoya in this then please do I’d love to read it 😁).

In my post where I mentioned the Rare Spices poster I was specifically focusing on the way Inej’s culture was sexualised for the purpose of being at the Menagerie, and how we know that other cultures are appropriated and fetishised by the Pleasure Houses as well (the Fjerdan girl at the Menagerie wears the wolf mask, an animal sacred to her people, and Nina wore a fake Kefta that was made in Kerch and is described to be a pale imitation of real Ravkan-made Kefta). But for Inej, up to the point of seeing this sign, that was a small part of the world; the actions of the few, a localised evil that she understood to be the opposite of the rest of the world because she still viewed everything with a childlike innocence. Seeing this sign breaks that façade for her and is arguably the first step towards what she views as the ultimate corruption of her innocence: murder. Because once she knew that the world on mass would see her and her people the way she was forced to present them, to appropriate her own culture, and to be fetishised for her “caramel” skin and “farcical mockery of a Suli caravan” she was forced to admit to herself that there was no way of returning to the person she used to be; not only someone who had been violated, exploited, and abused but also someone who believed that on the whole the world was a good place and that as long as you avoided the small parts of it that were dangerous you’d be okay.

And consider the wording of the sign. “Rare spices” next to two young Suli women wearing “scraps of mint-coloured silk”. There is a long history in our world of sexualising the so-called “exotic”; even the English/British idea, that I assume is what led to this same idea in the USA and much of the English-speaking world, that blonde women are more attractive, often leading them to be over-sexualised, can be drawn back to the Roman Colonisation of England because the vast majority of Romans were brunette or dark-haired and they saw the blonde Anglo-Saxons as “exotic” and attractive. (To be clear, in our own society this long history sexualisation has been mostly aimed towards people of colour and I’m absolutely not ignoring that, I’m just using this example because it’s the furthest back in history that I know of being as the colonisation was around 43 CE). The presentation of not only the spices but these women as “rare” to increase their sex appeal enhances this idea of ‘the exotic’ and by comparing them to the spices it, very similarly to all of the language surrounding Inej at the Menagerie, labels the women as stock, as produce, as something consumable like spices.

But something that I personally find really beautiful that Leigh Bardugo does surrounding this sign as well, is that Inej never condemns the girls on the billboard for the ‘suggestive’ outfits they wear, as long as they are worn by their own choice. She imagines that when she has her ship and begins to hunt slavers that the paint will peel from the sign and that she will have finally succeeded in freeing the girls, that they will “dance for no-one but themselves” and this is so beautiful but also so important as a declaration of female empowerment and autonomy because they have every right to dance and wear whatever they want to, but no-one has the right to force them to do that.