#this match is going to be incredibly intense and chaotic

[fairytale-poll]

ROUND 1D, MATCH 1 OUT OF 16!

Propaganda Under the Cut:

Dimension 20:

Knight in invisible glass armor who turned the heel of her slipper into a spear and impaled the Fairy Grandmother with it to escape her false happy ending. Part of a team of princesses who want to destroy the entire fairy tale world to spare themselves and everyone else from eternally suffering. Gives weirdly good life advice.

A badass warrior in glass armor who stabs her fairy godmother with the heel of her glass slipper

Neverafter sweep!!!! Also, she is cool. Wears glass armor, tried to kill her fairy godmother with a spear, also tried to kill her stepmother.

She wears armour of glass and fights against a prewritten destiny

This Cinderella's story takes place in a world where all the fairytale characters exist but their stories have all gone wrong. It's a horror Dnd campaign, and there's also a multivariate concept where if people die, they're basically just reborn in a worse version of the story. Cinderella here is an NPC and is part of a faction called the Daughters of the Crown, which is a group of rebel nialaistic princesses who want to destroy the Neverafter to be free. She stabbed her fairy godmother in the chest with a glass shard from her shoe and she's a crazy powerful fighter. She wears full plate armor made of reflective glass so that she's essentially invisible when standing still. She's super badass but still is caring and funny. In the final battle when the PCs are fighting the Daughters of the Crown and other bad guys, she turns to their side after the other princesses are defeated and other giant villains come in, including her step mother, who became an eldritch horror. She stabs her stepmother through the heart with a shard of glass after dismissing the stepmother statement that she hurt her because it was destiny, saying that it doesn't matter if it was free will or destiny, she didn't like it. TLDR: She's a badass black woman/princess/knight

This woman has been through so much Shit. She has to go through the usual suffering of Cinderella (dead parents, abusive step-family) and then find out her entire life is a lie, just a story where she has no agency over her life? Her suffering is for someone else's amusement? So she's doing bad. Her stepmother also tries to destroy the ENTIRE universe after snapping. And okay. Maybeeee Cinderella tried to kill some people (mainly the campaign's party) but after she lost everything I can't help but feel a little bad for her. Thank you for your time.

shes ANGRY shes a WARRIOR she has GLASS ARMOR THAT SHE NEVER TAKES OFF she’s trying to END THE WORLD AND KILL EVERYONE she’s EVERYTHING to me

Once Upon a Time (in Space):

She spent decades searching every moon and planet trying to find her wife (Rose), who was kidnapped on their wedding day. Eventually, she found Rose, and they embraced, only for Rose to die in Cinder's arms. And so Cinder killed the king who had kidnapped Rose by punching through his chest and into his heart.

And then Cinder got a somewhat happy ending, in which she met Rose's clone who had Rose's memories.

What if Cinderella was a Sci-Fi lesbian? Well here she is. She has a whole love song about searching the stars for her girlfriend after their wedding was interrupted and she was taken away. She spends years searching only to when she finally finds and embraces her watch her be shot. Cinders is so devastated by this that she plunges her wedding ring into the heart of the man who shot her love killing him.

Lesbian space princess who elopes with the terrifying soldier who was previously conquering her planet and spends decades searching for her when they're separated. Listen to her song https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=6w9V-gMgBF4

I think the way she punches the evil king through the heart as revenge for her wife is pretty neat.

She’s a revolutionary married to a woman, what’s not to love? From Cinders’ Song: “ When I was a little girl, my mother always told me / "Someday your prince will come, my love" / But as I grew, I knew it was a princess who would hold me”.

her girlfriend got cloned and most of said clones were brutally slaughtered in war and she searched for her girlfriend all throughout the galaxy and when they were finally reunited on the battlefield her girlfriend died. and a clone of her girlfriend who due to technical errors retained her memories, so does that count as the same girlfriend? theseus's girlfriend? anyway vote for cinders she's been through hell

Lesbian!! Has to search for her lost love Rose with her glass wedding ring that changes color when its near its partner!! Gets to embrace Rose once again for one final moment before the villain kills Rose right in front of her!! So Cinders kills him in return!! And she's left as (almost) the only surviving main character from her own album but!! She is eventually reunited with a clone of Rose, and while they cannot have a truly 'happy ever after' together they are the ones graced with the closest thing to it

SPACE LESBIANS (she's in love with Rose Red, who gets kidnapped on their wedding day and Cinders searches the galaxy to find her, waiting for her white ring to turn crimson, indicating that its twin was near) She took her name from the ashes of her burning planet <3 She also killed Old King Cole >:)

shes a tragic lesbian and killed a violent dictator shes literally the best

shes gay shes traumatized she dates both rose red and sleeping beauty. badass space wanderer looking for her wife

Her wife Rose gets kidnapped on their wedding day and Cinders spend the next thirty years looking for her. She finds her (:D) and then Rose dies (D:) and then Cinders kills the guy who killed Rose (girlboss).

shes a lesbian. she lost her wife, Rose (yes, as in sleeping beauty) the day they got married bc she was kidnapped. she spent 20 YEARS looking for her. as soon as she found her wife, Rose DIED IN HER ARMS. Cinders has gone through Too Much to lose this poll

(Her info from the wiki) the Princess of a planet burnt by King Cole's army, after it is ceded by her stepmother. She is imprisoned, meets Rose and plans to marry her. She is released by her godmother for the wedding, then flees when the attack happens, spending thirty years looking for Rose. Her half of the wedding ring will light up when she finds Rose.

"When I was a little girl, my mother always told me 'Someday your prince will come, my love' But as I grew, I knew it was a princess who would hold me I looked to the stars for you, my love" She's lesbian Cinderella IN SPACE. She fell in love with her wife in prison and they ran away to have a secret marriage but the empire kidnapped Rose on their wedding night and Cinders had to leave her behind. She searches for Rose for decades with the glass ring that guides her to its twin on her wife's finger. She finally reunites with her love after Rose rips three supersoldiers to pieces with her bare hands (hot) but then then the evil king kills Rose so Cinders fucking punches through his heart. And then a clone of Rose (who is also lesbian Sleeping Beauty IN SPACE) finds her cradling her wife's body and they have a happy reunion(?) and maybe they didn't have a happy ending BUT WHAT IF THEY HAD EACH OTHER? HUH? AAAAAH

she’s everything. she’s a princess from a long since conquered planet. she was imprisoned to make a statement of the brutal reign of old king cole. she met her wife while she was in prison, a beautiful brutal soldier covered in scars from battles. cinders and rose fell in love, so cinders’ godmother in white broke her out of jail so rose and cinders could be together. they were going to be married, except that OLD KING COLE intervened and kidnapped rose to make her the genetic base of his unholy army. so cinders spends THIRTY YEARS searching the galaxies for her love (and sings a really cool song about it called “Cinders’ Song”) until finally she arrives during the final battle just in time to see old king cole SHOOT ROSE DEAD. so cinders punches the king so hard (with her wedding ring) that he just Crumples Into Dust. the end! (no we do not talk about the fiction.)

lesbian, for one, and for two i don't really care i just think it'd be cool if she got in/if she made it past the first round

[starmaidengarden]

kalim : vil : x gn!reader. no cw/tw. soft relationship headcanons. pt2!

kalim al-asim ༉⋆｡˚

Dating Kalim Al-Asim is like basking in sunshine, spontaneous adventures, and pure-hearted affection. He’s the kind of boyfriend who loves hard and loudly—he’s affectionate, generous, and genuinely wants to make you happy every single day. Loving Kalim is easy, because he makes it so easy to love him back.

Getting Together

• Kalim is super obvious when he likes you. He gets so excited whenever he sees you—waves like crazy, calls your name, drags you into conversations, and literally glows with happiness.

• He probably confesses in the most spontaneous and chaotic way. You’re walking with him one day, and he just stops and blurts out: “you truly amaze me! lets go out, just you and I. What do you say?!” he’s jumping up and down with joy

In a Relationship

• Affection overload. Hugs, hand-holding, cuddles—he does it all, anytime, anywhere. He loves being close to you and will grab your hand mid-conversation just because he wants to. he Always wants makes you feel special. If you enter a room, he lights up. “There you are! I was waiting for you!”

• Spontaneous date ideas. magic carpet, a party, going swimming. You never know what’s coming next, but it’s always fun.

• Buys you gifts all the time. He sees something pretty? He buys it, always saying it “reminds me of you.”. If you say you like something, he’ll get you ten of it the next day. If you tell him he doesn’t have to spoil you, he’ll just pout and say, “But I want to!”

• He’s not subtle at all—expect bright smiles, constant compliments, and sudden gifts. hes loud about his love. Will 100% introduce you as “My amazing, incredible, most wonderful partner ever!” to anyone who will listen.

vil schoenheit ༉⋆｡˚

Dating Vil Schoenheit is like being in a relationship with a gilded blade—sharp, elegant, and breathtakingly intense. He holds himself (and you) to high standards, but behind the polished exterior is someone who will cherish you with quiet loyalty and fierce pride. He doesn’t fall easily… but when he does? You become his entire world.

Getting Together

Vil doesn’t fall easily. He is always surrounded by admirers, so when he starts to pay extra attention to you, he will first observe you from a distance. He needs to be certain that you are worthy of his heart.

He definitely teases you before confessing—subtle compliments, pointed glances, lingering touches. He’s testing the waters.

When he decides to confess, it’s beautiful and deliberate. Candlelight, a private setting, and a direct look into your eyes as he says, “I do not give my time or heart lightly. But I’d offer both to you, if you’ll have them.”

In a Relationship

High expectations, but for your benefit. Vil pushes you to be the best version of yourself—not to change you, but because he genuinely believes in your potential.

Loves showing you off. Whether it’s through stylish couple photos, exclusive events, or simply walking together, he wants the world to know you’re his.

Morning routines together are sacred. He will absolutely do your skincare with you and insists on matching eye masks. (“You’re glowing, darling. That’s my influence.”)

Affection is subtle but meaningful. He’s not one for over-the-top PDA, but he’ll fix your collar, adjust your posture, and softly brushing hair from your face—any excuse to touch you subtly.

[dippindaz]

Relationship HCs

Decided I wanted to go back to my roots and write some horror characters :) I hope you all enjoy <3

Warnings: Controlling/manipulative behaviors, toxic dynamics, mentions of death and violence (not major character, mentions of stalking,

Characters Included: Brahms, Thomas Hewitt, Danny "Jed" Olsen, Michael Myers, Billy Loomis, Stu Marcher.

Brahms Heelshire

Extremely clingy and possessive. Brahms doesn’t just want you around—he needs you. You’re his entire world, and he expects to be yours too.

Jealous of any attention you give others, even innocuous stuff like a friendly conversation with the delivery boy. He’ll sulk, break something, or go quiet behind the walls until you “apologize.”

Strict routines and rules—he expects you to read to him, cook for him, and follow his schedule. But over time, you realize he also follows a version of your schedule. He memorizes everything about your habits.

Childlike tendencies, especially emotionally. He doesn’t always know how to express feelings beyond tantrums or intense stares, but he genuinely adores you in the only way he knows how.

Brahms is touch-starved. He clings in his sleep, always wants to hold hands or sit close, and gets visibly upset when you pull away—even if it’s just for a second.

Homebody couple life. He doesn’t want you to leave the estate—ever. If he has to let you go somewhere, expect him to be freaking out the entire time you're gone and either be extra clingy when you get back or extra closed-off.

Thomas Hewitt

Incredibly protective. Once he considers you his, you’re under constant protection. Anyone who even looks at you the wrong way… doesn’t look at anything again.

Thomas expresses affection through his actions. He’s nonverbal, but he’ll bring you things he thinks you’ll like—bones, odd trinkets, handmade gifts—and looks to you for approval afterward.

He likes to be close, leans into you for comfort, and has a calming presence despite everything. Being held by him feels safe in a strange, primal way.

Listen, Thomas is really a big baby. If you cry or raise your voice, he panics and tries to fix it. Expect him to bring you comfort items, mimic your expressions to show empathy, or even get Mama to help. He hates when you're upset, whether with him or not.

Your life is domestic, in it's own weird way. You both settle into a routine that’s grotesque on the outside but oddly comforting once you adjust. He likes when you hum while you work.

Loyal to death. Once you’re his, he’ll never let go. Even the thought of losing you is enough to send him into a spiral of rage or grief.

Danny “Jed” Olsen

Flirty, chaotic, and intense. Danny is the kind of guy who flirts like it's a game but is dead serious about you underneath the teasing.

Danny loves making you squirm. He’ll joke about stalking you (and probably did before you got together. Let's be real, he probably still does), sends you cryptic texts from across the room, or whisper twisted things just to see your reaction.

Photos of you everywhere. Some are sweet, some are… definitely not. He documents your relationship obsessively—whether it’s a romantic moment or a vulnerable one.

He's got a dark sense of humor and hopefully you do too. He loves when you match his energy, but if you don’t, he’ll tone it down just enough to keep you from leaving—then push again when he’s feeling brave.

Hyper-focused on you. He watches your every move, knows your patterns, your tells, your fears. It’s equal parts seductive and terrifying how well he reads you.

Deep down, he hopes you’ll love not just the charming mask he puts on, but the messed-up parts too. If you do? You’ve got his loyalty for life—even if it’s a dangerous one.

Michael Myers

Utterly silent but always watching. You never really know where Michael is, but you always feel him—whether it’s a shadow behind the curtain or a shape across the street. He watches you constantly, but not always maliciously—sometimes just… fascinated.

Very protective. If anyone threatens you? They're gone. No warning. No trace. He doesn’t tolerate any danger near you—not even perceived danger.

Quality time is his love language (If you can even call it that). He doesn’t speak or do traditional affection, but he’ll leave you items (stolen or not), stand guard outside your house, or silently sit nearby when you're upset.

Emotionally unreadable—but not emotionless. Over time, you can tell when he’s calm, angry, or curious. It’s all in the tilt of his head, the speed of his breathing, the way he stands just a little closer.

Michael follows you like a shadow. Even when he’s not visible, he’s nearby. If you try to leave him, he will follow. He’s never going to let you go—but somehow, it feels more like devotion than captivity.

Physical comfort is rare but intense. When he finally touches you(outside of sexual touches)—gently brushing your hair back, letting his hand linger—it’s deliberate and heavy with meaning. He doesn't do anything halfway.

Billy Loomis

Hot-and-cold as fuck. One moment, he’s magnetic, whispering sweet nothings like you’re the only person in the world. The next? Cold, distant, suspicious. You’re always on your toes.

Emotionally manipulative, but not always on purpose. He knows how to make you feel guilty, even when you haven't done anything. Sometimes it's calculated. Sometimes it's just because he’s afraid you’ll leave.

Billy is secretive. He hides things constantly but loses his mind if you do. If you even look at someone else for too long, expect a quiet but tense confrontation later.

He craves your trust but doesn’t trust you. He wants you to love him unconditionally—but doesn't believe you actually could if you "knew everything." This makes him spiral, often.

He fantasizes about you being his ride-or-die, someone who won’t just accept the killer side of him, but maybe even join it. The idea of you being his ride-or-die is thrilling for him.

Weirdly romantic in the rare quiet moments. He’ll run his fingers through your hair, kiss your wrist, stare at you like he’s memorizing you. He means it. He just doesn’t know how to keep it.

Stu Macher

Clingy and codependent. Stu needs constant attention. He’s like a puppy crossed with a sociopath—needing affection one minute, giggling over murder the next.

Stu always has his hands on you, always exaggerating his emotions to get a reaction—whether that’s “fake dying” for kisses or pouting until you reassure him.

He will do literally anything to impress you. He’s impulsive and easily influenced, especially by Billy—but if you told him to ditch murder and just watch movies with you forever, he’d probably try.

Terrified of abandonment. He plays things off like a joke, but the thought of losing you breaks him. He’d cry, beg, or go completely unhinged trying to keep you.

Stu over-shares everything. He couldn't keep a secret from you even if he was trying. He’ll ramble about kills, about plans, about what he wants to do to people who “looked at you funny.” It’s weirdly honest—he has no filter with you.

Loves being called your boyfriend. Like, loves it. He’ll say it a dozen times a day and gets all smug if you say it in public. Being yours is his favorite identity.

[aventurineswife]

Stages of Shadows:

R O U N D 7

(Special thanks to Natto for graciously allowing me to use their incredible artworks. Please support their amazing work by following them on Instagram: @yattapan. Thank you, Natto (if you're reading this, lol), for once again allowing me to use your artworks with full credit given to you! I hope you enjoy this!)

The atmosphere was heavy, the tension almost suffocating as the stage transformed into the grand finale. A shimmering, otherworldly glow enveloped the set, mirroring the heightened stakes of this final performance. The audience, now deathly silent, awaited the clash of wills between two souls fighting for vastly different reasons—Aventurine, the desperate gambler with nothing left, and Sunday, the serene dreamer with everything to prove.

The spotlight fell on Aventurine first. His usually flamboyant demeanor was absent, replaced by an air of exhaustion. Still clad in the tattered remnants of his costume from his performance with Veritas Ratio, he looked dejected, his movements sluggish. The loss of his only true ally weighed heavily on him, and the brutal pace of the competition had left him unprepared.

But even in his brokenness, Aventurine stood tall, his voice carrying the raw, unfiltered emotion of a man with nothing to lose. The music began—a haunting melody of sorrow and defiance.

“Oh, in a blink, gone

Blink, gone

I can’t let it go

Blink and gone”

Each word was drenched in anguish, his voice cracking as memories of Ratio and [Name] flashed in his mind. The stage darkened, flickers of dice and shattered mirrors reflecting his inner turmoil. Aventurine didn’t need theatrics—his pain was the performance. He sang as though tearing his soul apart for the audience to witness, and with every note, his desperation bled through.

His body swayed with the rhythm, unsteady yet deliberate, as he painted a picture of a man grasping for control in a world that had long abandoned him. The final crescendo left the stage in silence, save for the faint echo of his voice.

The spotlight on the stage shifted, bathing in ethereal light. Sunday emerged, calm and composed, his eyes glowing with an unearthly intensity. His tailored suit, immaculate and adorned with intricate golden patterns, gave him the air of a divine figure descended from the heavens.

The opening notes of his song resonated like a ticking clock, a calculated prelude to the grandeur that followed. Sunday’s voice soared—smooth, commanding, and heartbreakingly beautiful.

“The clock goes tick-tock, tick-tock

Just enjoy this

Blink, gone

Oh, in a blink, gone

Let’s go”

Where Aventurine’s performance was raw and chaotic, Sunday’s was ethereal and methodical. Each movement was a carefully choreographed expression of his ideals—a vision of a serene, pain-free world. Illusions of a tranquil paradise filled the stage, showing a dream-like utopia where suffering ceased to exist.

The audience was mesmerized as Sunday’s voice carried them through this perfect world, but beneath the beauty lay an undertone of melancholy. He wasn’t just singing about peace—he was mourning the sacrifices required to achieve it. His sister Robin’s face flashed in his mind, followed by memories of their lost family.

Aventurine stumbles slightly, his steps faltering as Sunday’s voice soars above the audience. The exhaustion from his back-to-back performances and the emotional toll of losing Veritas Ratio weigh heavily on him. Yet, even in his weariness, there is a flicker of defiance in his eyes. His voice, though strained, refuses to falter completely, cutting through the symphony of cheers and Sunday’s ethereal melody.

Aventurine extends both arms outward, his body swaying slightly, drawing on every ounce of strength he has left.

“Today, this moment

Won’t ever come again

The party’s getting started

And let’s go crazy high”

The audience begins to clap in rhythm with his movements, their energy reinvigorating him slightly. It’s not enough to match Sunday’s grace, but Aventurine’s raw, unfiltered passion keeps him in the game. His performance feels less like a show and more like a cry to the universe, a desperate plea for freedom, hope, or perhaps just acknowledgment.

“Wave both hands

Let the rhythm take over

This music

On and on”

(credits to @ilriyum on X/Twitter)

Sunday glides effortlessly across the stage, his every move a calculated display of elegance and precision. He feeds off the crowd’s energy, his ethereal voice carrying a hypnotic quality that captivates everyone watching.

“The verdant lights

They tickle my eyes

Before this piercing, radiant moment

Fades away”

Meanwhile, Silver Wolf’s hacking progresses, bypassing layer after layer of security with calculated precision. The Stellaron Hunters work in perfect synchronicity—Kafka provides cover with an unnerving calm, Blade slashes through attackers like a phantom, and Firefly moves with steely efficiency, clearing paths for the others.

[Name] stands frozen, their eyes locked on the screen. The duel between Aventurine and Sunday plays out like a tragic opera, each note, each move, a battle of wills. Robin’s words echo in their mind: “Please, take care of my brother.”

Aventurine, clearly struggling, still manages to force a grin as he raises his head toward the dazzling stage lights, as if mocking the Aeons themselves.

“Oh, in a blink, gone

Forget everything and just enjoy it

Oh, in a blink, gone

Don’t miss this moment

I’m tellin’ you Blink, gone

Don’t leave any regrets”

Sunday’s voice carries the final note of the verse, and the crowd erupts in cheers. He glances at Aventurine, his expression unreadable, but there’s a moment—a fleeting one—where his calm exterior cracks, revealing something close to pity or regret.

As the spotlight turns fully to Sunday for the next refrain, Aventurine falters, his exhaustion nearly bringing him to his knees. The crowd senses the shift in momentum, their cheers leaning heavily toward Sunday.

At that moment, a small yet defining gesture happens. Aventurine lifts his hand again, not in defiance but almost as if reaching out—for guidance, for strength, or perhaps even for forgiveness.

“Come on,” he mutters under his breath, his voice too faint for the audience to hear. “Lady Luck, don’t leave me now.”

Blade pauses for a split second to glance at the screen. His expression, usually impassive, hardens slightly, as if recognizing Aventurine’s desperation.

The cacophony of the performance and the roaring audience was deafening, but all of it faded into the background as [Name] made their decision. Their heart raced, each beat like a war drum echoing in their ears. The sight of Aventurine faltering and Sunday’s silent yet relentless push drove them to a boiling point. They couldn’t just stand idly by anymore—not when their friends were being crushed under the weight of this twisted spectacle.

Just as they moved to intervene, a firm, unyielding hand clamped onto their arm. They spun around to see Blade, his face as cold and impenetrable as ever, his crimson eyes locked onto theirs with a silent warning. His grip was iron, unrelenting, and his intent was clear: Don’t do this.

“You’ll get yourself killed.” Blade said in a low, cutting voice, his tone almost a growl.

But [Name] didn’t flinch. Their resolve was a wildfire, blazing brighter than the fear Blade tried to instill.

“I don’t care anymore,” they shot back, their voice trembling, not with fear, but with determination. “I’ve already lost enough. I won’t let them lose their lives because of this sick game!”

They yanked their arm free from his grip with surprising strength, their eyes meeting Blade’s in a clash of willpower. For a moment, Blade’s expression flickered—was it frustration? Pity? Respect? But before he could react, [Name] turned and bolted towards the backstage area.

“Foolish.” Blade muttered under his breath, his knuckles tightening around his sword’s hilt. Yet, despite himself, he didn’t chase after them.

“Oh, in a blink, gone

Blink and gone

Relish the present

In a blink, gone”

The music thundered in the distance as [Name] crouched behind the wall, their breaths coming quick and shallow. The smoke bomb felt heavy in their hand, not because of its weight, but because of what it symbolized: the line they were about to cross. They stared at it, their fingers trembling. ‘What happens after this? Will anyone believe me?’

But there was no time for doubts. Their friends were in danger, and hesitation wasn’t an option.

“Clear your mind

Leave the burdens behind”

With one last deep breath, they pulled the pin and hurled the smoke bomb toward the guards. It hit the ground with a clink before releasing a thick, choking cloud. Startled shouts erupted from the guards as the smoke enveloped them. [Name] seized the moment, springing to their feet and dashing forward.

“Make this party yours

And no, don’t look back now”

The haze blurred their vision, but they kept moving, their instincts guiding them. Their heart pounded in their chest as they reached the next door, yanking it open and slipping inside before the guards could recover. They slammed it shut behind them, leaning against it for a moment to catch their breath.

“I can’t look back now,” they whispered to themselves, their voice barely audible over the muffled music and the chaos outside. “My friends come first.”

“Neither yesterday nor tomorrow

Exist for me

It’s this moment, or no”

Silver Wolf grinned as the loading bar finally filled. “And boom—we’re in.”

She tapped the final key, her fingers dancing across the keyboard. The screen before her flickered, revealing a flood of hidden files, video feeds, and data logs. “We’ve got everything: backstage feeds, audio recordings, the works. This show’s dirty laundry is about to go viral.”

Kafka, standing guard nearby, tilted her head with an amused smile. “Efficient as always. But let’s not celebrate too soon. We’re still not out of the woods.”

Blade, stationed near the entrance, cut down another approaching security guard with cold precision. “Focus,” he said, his voice sharp. “We don’t have time for games.”

Firefly, her eyes scanning the area, frowned as she noticed something amiss. “Wait—where’s [Name]?”

Kafka’s smile faltered, and Silver Wolf glanced up from her screen. “Didn’t they stick with us?”

“Yes,” Firefly said, her tone tense. “But, they were just here a few minutes ago…”

Blade’s grip on his weapon tightened but he didn’t open his mouth.

“This dark, crimson air

Embraces us

And lifts our spirits”

Sunday’s movements were fluid as he closed the distance between himself and Aventurine, his eyes gleaming with an enigmatic intensity. With a deft motion, he pulled Aventurine’s microphone down to rest against his neck, switching his and Aventurine’s off. As the crowd roared in anticipation of what seemed like a dramatic pause, Sunday leaned in close, his voice a quiet murmur meant only for Aventurine.

“Why fight it, Kakavasha?” he whispered, his tone smooth, almost coaxing. “You’ve already given everything to this game. Let it consume you, let them adore you. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Aventurine froze for a heartbeat, his eyes widening. The words slithered into his mind, planting seeds of doubt and exhaustion. Sunday’s voice carried a dangerous allure, like a siren song laced with manipulation. For a moment, it felt as though the weight of it all—the expectations, the pressure—might pull him under.

But then, like a flame rekindled, Aventurine’s resolve surged. He shoved Sunday away, his frustration clear as his hands trembled while fixing his mic. “Don’t you dare.” He hissed under his breath, his voice low enough that the audience couldn’t hear.

Straightening up, Aventurine turned back to the crowd, forcing his lips into a defiant smile as the music swelled. His voice cut through the air with renewed strength, even as anger simmered beneath the surface.

“And this hot, fiery thrill

Blazes up in the sky till the end”

(credits to @sviteer on X/Twitter)

Sunday staggered back, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. The crowd cheered wildly, oblivious to the tension crackling between the two performers. To them, it was all part of the act.

“Oh, in a blink, gone”

Sunday’s presence was almost otherworldly as he moved effortlessly, his voice slipping into a haunting melody that seemed to lull the entire audience into a trance. Every note was perfect, every movement graceful and hypnotic. His eyes glinted with an ethereal intensity, as though he were above it all, controlling not just the music, but the very atmosphere.

“Forget everything and just enjoy it

Oh, in a blink, gone”

The crowd’s cheers swelled, their adoration for Sunday palpable, but for Aventurine, it felt like the walls were closing in. His breath was coming quicker now, his exhaustion seeping through despite his best efforts to hide it. Sunday was a master of this game, effortlessly gliding through the performance while Aventurine fought to stay afloat. The gap between them was widening, and the weight of it was crushing.

“Don’t miss this moment

I’m tellin’ you Blink, gone

Don’t leave any regrets

The clock goes tick tock tick tock

Blink, gone”

Aventurine could feel his grip on the performance slipping. His voice was strained, each word a battle against the fatigue threatening to overwhelm him. Sunday’s power, his control over the stage, was too much. And yet, Aventurine couldn’t stop. Not now. Not when Ratio’s memory burned in his chest like a fire that refused to die. Not when he had to prove that he was more than just a pawn in this twisted game.

His frustration bubbled over, the momentary doubts clawing at his resolve. Why was he even still here? He should have been able to defeat Sunday. Why couldn’t he just be free of this… this pressure?

But the moment he faltered, he could almost hear Ratio’s voice, that quiet reminder of the bond they shared, and his resolve hardened once more.

Sunday, however, was watching him, his gaze almost calculating. He knew exactly what was happening. He could see Aventurine’s struggle, the cracks in his composure starting to show. Sunday’s lips curled upward, an almost imperceptible smile. He was enjoying this, watching Aventurine wrestle with his own limitations. To him, it was all part of the game.

The crowd erupted as Sunday’s performance reached its peak, his ethereal grace pulling them deeper into his web. But Aventurine… Aventurine was falling further behind.

“Don’t let it go…” Aventurine murmured to himself, his fists clenched, trying to find that last bit of energy within him to push through.

With a deep breath, he forced himself to focus, to fight past the fatigue. For Ratio. For [Name]. He couldn’t stop now. Not when the finish line was in sight.

Aventurine’s vision blurred as the memory of Ratio’s final words flooded his mind, louder than the pounding music, sharper than the pain in his chest.

“Take care of yourself, Gambler. Do stay alive. I wish you the best of luck.”

The words echoed over and over again, a reminder that had become his burden, his motivation. The bittersweet final smile Ratio had given him just before slipping away was the last thing he could remember of his friend—of the person who had believed in him when he had nothing left to offer.

The memory of Ratio’s fall, crumpling to the stage, blood staining the ground, was a haunting image that would never leave him. Every detail felt like it had carved itself into his soul.

“Stay alive…”

The thought carried weight now. It wasn’t just for himself anymore. He could hear Ratio’s voice as clearly as if he were standing right there. It was a voice that reminded him that, despite all the pain, there was still a purpose, still a reason to fight, to survive.

But the effort to keep going, to push past the crushing exhaustion, was too much. His legs wobbled beneath him, and without realizing it, blood began to drip from his nose, staining his lip. It was a sign of how far his body had been pushed, how much he had neglected his own well-being in the pursuit of something more.

His head throbbed, a deep, pulsing pain, but Aventurine didn’t falter. Not yet.

With a gasp, he shook himself out of the memory, forced himself to refocus.

“I won’t stop… I can’t stop.”

He looked over to Sunday, whose effortless performance was only pushing the gap between them. But not today. Not today, he swore. For Ratio. For [Name]. For the promise of something better.

He wiped the blood from his lip, still shaking, but his gaze remained steady. Aventurine was going to finish this—no matter the cost.

The music blared, a feverish beat that rattled through the air, echoing the tension between them. Sunday’s performance had become a carefully crafted illusion, mesmerizing the audience, but it was the vision of Aventurine—slumped and struggling—that broke the illusion. Every step, every strained breath, was a silent cry of defiance.

“Oh, in a blink, gone

Forget everything and just enjoy it

I'm tellin you blink, gone”

Aventurine’s vision swam. The figure in front of him, wearing the same pristine white suit he had seen so many times before, was none other than Ratio. Sweat glistened on his brow, his posture firm as though the events of hours ago never happened. As if he hadn’t been shot and left to bleed out on the cold stage. Aventurine’s heart twisted.

“Doctor…”

But as the hallucination blinked, it shifted—flickering like a faulty signal—and Aventurine realized the truth. This wasn’t Ratio. This was Sunday, playing the cruel game of the mind. Sunday’s voice, soothing and familiar, had been twisted into something else entirely. A manipulation, not of words, but of perception.

“Leave no regrets

The clock goes tick tock tick tock tick tock”

Aventurine’s throat tightened, his breath ragged, but he refused to look away. His mind was clear now, more than ever. The hallucination was just that: a ghost, a reflection of the pain, the guilt that haunted him. He tore his eyes away from it and, through the haze, saw them.

“Oh, in a blink, gone

Forget everything and just enjoy it”

[Name].

‘My God, My Universe…’

His heart surged. They were back. The figure he’d longed for, the one who had kept him tethered to this fleeting world, stood there, a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. His pulse raced in recognition. But they weren’t alone.

Beside them stood someone else—a figure he never thought he would see again.

Robin.

Her eyes locked onto Sunday, filled with a strange, unspoken message, her presence more powerful than any weapon. She had come back, alive. Somehow. And Sunday saw it too.

“Oh, in a blink, gone”

Aventurine didn’t hesitate. He surged forward, every step toward [Name] a prayer, a plea to not let this moment slip away, to not let the chaos of the show swallow him whole. His hand reached out, desperate, trembling, but his heart was full of determination.

“Don't miss this moment

I'm tellin you blink, gone”

Sunday, watching with wide eyes, understood the unspoken challenge. He had no time for hesitation. His sister, Robin, was watching, waiting for him to make his move. He couldn’t disappoint her. The scoreboard flickered, a stark reminder that time was running out.

“Leave no regrets

The clock goes tick tock tick tock tick tock”

Time was up, and it was clear who had won.

“Blink, Gone”

The shot rang out so suddenly, a deafening crack that seemed to tear through the very air, freezing everyone in their tracks. The audience gasped, the music faltering as the blood splattered across the stage in a violent burst. For a moment, it was chaos—confusion, panic—but for [Name], everything slowed to a horrifying crawl.

Their eyes locked onto the figure, standing just a few feet away from them, his form poised in a way that seemed almost serene. The bullet had hit him before anyone had even seen it coming. His body jerked, a sharp intake of breath, and then he crumpled, falling to the ground as the crimson pool spread beneath him, staining the stage.

The scream tore from [Name]’s throat before they could even think.

(credits to by @yuun0110 on X/Twitter)

[Navigation]

[paucubarsisimp]

might as well slap me and tell me i’m the slowest person on earth w that joao request!

right so i’ll be the SECOND person to request and i think a joao fic where reader does her skincare routine infront of him and since he’s so damn extra he wants to do it too but like make him a diva yk 💔.

I LOVE YOUUUU - xoxo saira 🤍.

skincare

pairing: joão felix x reader

summary: in which joão sees your skincare and immediately wants to try it

warnings: none

tagged: @barcapix, @universefcb,@joaosnovia, @nngkay, @ilovebarcaaaa, lmk if you want to be added to the taglist!

a/n: girl ilysm, i hope you like this 💗💗

the evening had settled in, the soft glow of the bathroom light casting a peaceful aura around the space. you had just come back from a long day, and as always, you decided to unwind with your skincare routine. you hummed quietly to yourself as you gathered the bottles and jars, carefully placing them on the counter.

your face mask was next, and you were enjoying the simple ritual of it all—there was something incredibly soothing about taking this time for yourself, even if the world outside was chaotic. you’d been doing it for weeks now, and it had become a part of your nightly routine.

just as you were about to smooth the thick, creamy mask onto your face, you heard the familiar sound of footsteps behind you. you turned slightly, noticing joão standing in the doorway, his usual charming grin on his face as he crossed his arms and leaned against the frame.

“what’s all this?” joão asked, eyeing the assortment of skincare products on the counter. “you really going all in tonight?”

you chuckled softly, looking at him in the mirror. “yeah, just my nightly self-care. it helps me relax. you should try it sometime,” you said with a playful glint in your eye, not expecting him to take you seriously.

he raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by the suggestion. “me? try skincare? you’ve got to be kidding.”

you shot him a teasing glance. “why not? it’s good for your skin. plus, it might make you feel a little less like a footballer and a little more like… well, a human.”

joão laughed, a deep, hearty sound that made you smile. “i’m not sure i need it. but… alright, show me what you’re doing. maybe i’ll give it a go.”

you turned to face him with a raised eyebrow. “are you serious?”

he shrugged dramatically. “you know, maybe this will be my secret weapon. could be the next big thing—joão félix, skincare icon.”

you couldn’t help but laugh at his antics. “okay, okay. i’ll guide you. but you have to follow my steps, no shortcuts. trust me, your skin will thank you.”

he crossed the room and stood next to you, looking at the bottles lined up on the counter. “alright, so what’s first? do i just… rub my face with this?” he asked, pointing at the cleanser.

you laughed at his curiosity. “not quite. first, you have to splash your face with water to get it a little damp. then, you’ll take a bit of this cleanser and—”

he was already splashing water all over his face before you could finish your sentence, completely drenched. you blinked at him, wide-eyed.

“well,” you said, trying to suppress your giggles, “that’s one way to do it. now, just a little cleanser. not too much!”

he squirted a generous amount into his hand, and without thinking, he rubbed it into his face with the intensity of someone tackling a new opponent. you stood back, laughing at how serious he was taking it.

“joão, you look like you’re preparing for a match,” you teased, wiping away a stray drop of water from your cheek.

he paused for a moment, glancing at you through the mirror with a smirk. “maybe i am. can’t go into this skincare game half-hearted.”

you rolled your eyes, trying to suppress a grin. “alright, rinse it off now, mister skincare expert.”

as he rinsed his face, he looked at you, his expression a mixture of confusion and curiosity. “i don’t know about this… i feel like i just dunked my head in a bowl of soup.”

“that’s what you get for rushing,” you said, wiping off a small splatter of water on your arm. “take your time, joão. skincare isn’t a race.”

“well, i’d win that race, hands down,” he quipped, a playful glint in his eyes.

you handed him a bottle of toner and explained, “now, you need this to balance your skin. dab it on with a cotton pad, don’t wipe it.”

he stared at the cotton pad in his hand like it was some kind of foreign object. “this looks… too delicate. do you really think i can pull this off?”

you laughed softly, watching him concentrate so hard on doing it right. “of course you can. just be gentle, like you’re petting a cat.”

he looked at you like you were speaking another language. “petting a cat? what does that even mean?”

“just—never mind,” you giggled. “just dab it on your face.”

finally, after what felt like an eternity, joão managed to do the toner step, looking quite proud of himself. “alright, what’s next? i think i’m getting the hang of this.”

“next up is moisturizer. it’s the most important part. you’ve got to lock in all that hydration.”

he scooped out a hefty dollop of cream, and without hesitation, started slathering it all over his face, making exaggerated motions with his hands. you couldn’t help but laugh at how much he was using.

“joão! that’s way too much! you only need a little.”

he looked at you, his face now a greasy mess of product, and smirked. “i’m making sure i get every spot. you never know where dryness might sneak up.”

you shook your head fondly, trying not to burst out laughing. “okay, but now you’re going to look like you’re about to slide off the couch. less is more, joão.”

he pouted dramatically and looked at his reflection in the mirror. “i’m pretty sure i’m glowing, right?”

you walked up behind him, looking at his face, which now had a shiny, almost comical layer of moisturizer. “you’re glowing, alright,” you teased, “but i think you might need to tone it down for tomorrow’s match.”

he laughed, turning to face you with that mischievous grin of his. “i’m doing this every night from now on. you’ve unlocked a new side of me.”

you shook your head, still laughing. “well, i hope you don’t expect me to apply it for you every night. skincare is a solo mission, my friend.”

joão leaned in, a little too close for comfort, still grinning like he had won something. “how about a weekly skincare date, then? you and me, making each other glow?”

you smiled, shaking your head fondly. “you’re ridiculous, but fine. only if you promise not to use the entire jar of moisturizer next time.”

“i can’t make that promise,” he said, his tone teasing, “but i’ll try my best.”

as he turned to leave, you caught a glimpse of his face—his skin actually looked better, less tired, and definitely more radiant. maybe joão félix, skincare icon, was a title that fit him better than you thought.

“good night, skincare guru,” you called after him.

“good night, my skincare coach,” he shot back, with a wink. “same time tomorrow?”

you laughed, shaking your head again. “maybe not tomorrow, but i’m sure we’ll make time for it again soon.”

and with that, joão left the bathroom, leaving behind a trail of laughter and the faint scent of his newfound skincare obsession lingering in the air.

[ancientgoddessofegypt]

Romantic Synastry - Valentine's Day Edition. Pt. 1

Venus/Pluto Synastry - A connection that can be so intense it will knock the pants off of you. Incredibly deep, and penetrating, and could potentially bring out the darkside in both of you. Transformative experiences, out of the body type. Sex together can be a very addictive experience, you won't know what to do without it.

Venus/Lilith Synastry - Hot & Heavy. Experimentive and can be very adventurous in the way you deal with love. The energy between the two of you could arouse the subconscious in a way that could free you from societal beliefs, making waves for your relationship to take ship the way it wants. Sex here can be rather taboo for a while, if the energy has been feeling lack luster its as if you need newer interactions with each other. But in a way that'll knock your boots off ;)

Sun/Moon Synastry - A beautiful bond. A new snuggly energy where you guys are gentle to each other. You guys tend to understand when one of you is in one of those moods, and typically you guys together are like two peas in a pod. Very healing, emotional energy here.

Mars/Lilith Synastry - The sex here is untamable and hot!!! It's too much for y'all to handle sometimes. The attraction levels are thru the roof. You guys can't wait to get your hands on each other. Passionate sex, love affairs can be a little chaotic, but you'll like it ;)

Moon/Mars Synastry - Baby making love, just enough to keep the passion going. Spiritual sex, very committed and connected to devoting to each other through a passionate, tantric type of love. Can fuss and fight and get back into the bedroom to make it alright.

Sun/Mars Synastry - A passionate over flow of love, coming thru the guise of movement, motivation and physical activity. You guys NEED to stay active or else it won't work. The energy between you two is full of energy and vigor. You keep hope alive by letting the energy between you two over flow because it's constant attraction that won't burn out, unless you do.

Jupiter/Venus Synastry - The love that just keeps on giving. You guys connection can be a beautiful love where you guys give/receive to each other that meets the interest of one another. The jupiter person can be the generous one while the Venus is the receiver. This is the type of love where dating and creativity go hand and hand. It's a love most people want and post onto their vision board.

Venus/Asc - The love of your dreams. The dream girl. The dream boy. The one you've been crushing on. You guys get along pretty well, and the energy between the two can last as long as the venus is giving the asc person all the lovin! The asc person takes in the energy and for the most part can you a lil something back if you're ready ;) Match made in heaven, could be a love at first sight type of energy to the connection.

Mercury/Sun Synastry - Can talk ya head off for hours. Very friendly, compassionate, gentle. Amazing connection to get your thoughts off. Compared to other connections, this is the one you want if you want to be friends AND lovers. The mercury person adores the energy of the sun individual, and the sun person gets to relieve their self expression thru the power of words which the mercury person favors. Authentic attraction to each other.

[unfgvien]

secret love fling [Seth rollins]

pairing - Seth rollins x reader

summary - Seth Rollins invited you to support him on Monday Night Raw, despite wanting to keep your relationship quiet. you went anyways, you bumped into a few of his friends and you passed yourself off as Seths best friend, you cheered the loudest for him.

word count - 1.1k

The excitement buzzed in the air as the first night of Monday Night Raw on Netflix approached. Fans were eager, anticipation running high. In the center of it all were the wrestlers preparing for their big night. Among them was Seth Rollins, the charismatic star of wrestling, known for his amazing skills and captivating personality. But tonight was different for Seth; he wasn’t just fighting for the crowd. He wanted you there to support him.

You had been friends with Seth for a long time, but your friendship had turned into something more. However, the world of wrestling was chaotic. You worried that if people knew about your relationship, it would put both of you under intense scrutiny. Seth, on the other hand, seemed confident. He told you not to worry and assured you that nobody would find out.

“Please, just come,” Seth said, his brown eyes shining with determination. “I need you to cheer for me. It’s going to be epic! ”

You looked around the busy locker room, filled with wrestlers preparing for the show. The air was thick with energy and loud music blared from somewhere nearby. You could smell the sweat and excitement. It was hard for you to imagine being seen with Seth when fans were so closely watching every little detail.

“I don’t want people to find out,” you replied, biting your lip nervously.

“Trust me, nobody will notice,” he insisted. “Just a quick visit. You can leave right after my match. It’ll be fine. ”

His passion was contagious, and after some hesitation, you finally agreed. You figured that maybe just a little support wouldn’t be too risky. Besides, seeing Seth in the ring, doing what he loved, was something you didn’t want to miss. So, you made your way to the arena.

The massive venue was gleaming under the lights. Fans filled the seats, waving signs and wearing T-shirts of their favorite wrestlers. Your heart pounded as you walked through the crowded area. You took a seat in the middle section, trying to blend in. A wave of excitement and nerves washed over you. As the announcer's voice echoed through the arena, you spotted Seth backstage, pacing and warming up. He looked focused, his eyes set on the ring.

The match began with a bang. The crowd roared as the lights dimmed, and the cameras started rolling. Seth’s entrance music blasted through the speakers, and the audience erupted with cheers. You couldn’t help but feel proud as you watched him enter, charismatic and full of energy.

The match was against CM Punk, a fierce competitor known for his sharp wit and incredible moves. The two men squared off, and you could feel the tension in the air. With each slam and hold, the crowd reacted with gasps and cheers, but all you could focus on was Seth. He fought fiercely, using every ounce of strength he had.

As Seth grappled with his opponent, you found yourself cheering loudly without thinking. “Let’s go, Seth! ” you shouted, your voice blending in with the crowd. For a moment, the world outside faded, and all that mattered was his performance and the passion he exuded in the ring.

But then, something surprising happened. Midway through the match, CM Punk got the upper hand and landed a brutal move on Seth. The moment felt heavy. You gasped, your heart skipping a beat. Watching Seth struggling under Punk’s pressure made your stomach twist with worry. He had fought so hard, and now he was in a vulnerable position.

You felt the crowd’s energy shift. People were gasping, and some fans even began to boo. You clenched your fists, hoping that Seth would find a way to turn the match around. In the middle of the struggle, your eyes met his. Despite the pain, he managed to smile at you, as if reassuring you that he could handle it. That spark made your heart flutter, reminding you why you cared for him so much.

As the match continued, Seth dug deep. He fought back with everything he had, the audience becoming more and more engaged. He managed to break free from Punk’s grip and swung back with an amazing move that sent Punk to the mat. The crowd exploded with cheers, and you could feel the energy rising around you.

“Come on, Seth! You can do it! ” you shouted, feeling the excitement bubble up inside you. Your voice merged with thousands of others, all cheering for their favorite wrestler. This time he truly heard you, and it fueled his drive even more.

In the final moments of the match, you held your breath. Seth executed a stunning finishing move, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze. The referee slid to the mat to count. One… Two… Three! The bell rang, and the audience erupted into cheers as Seth stood victorious, arms raised high above his head.

“I did it! ” Seth shouted, looking into the crowd, his eyes shining. He took a moment to soak in the cheers before he scanned the audience. When his gaze landed on you, the joy on his face melted into something warmer. A brief connection that felt like it was just for you.

After the match, the arena buzzed with excitement. Fans were still celebrating, chanting Seth’s name. You felt a rush of happiness but also a pang of worry. What if people realized who you were? You needed to be careful.

In the backstage area, you waited for him. As soon as the match ended, Seth rushed backstage, still full of energy. He spotted you and his face lit up even more. “You came! ” he exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug.

“I couldn’t miss it,” you replied, feeling giddy. “You were amazing! ”

“Did you see that last move? ” he grinned, his excitement contagious. “I couldn’t have done it without you cheering for me. ”

Just then, a few of Seth’s friends from the wrestling world, like Dean Ambrose and Roman Reigns, walked over, clearly in high spirits from the thrilling event. They congratulated Seth, each wanting to share in his victory.

“Who’s your friend? ” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow, glancing at you with curiosity.

You felt your hands go cold. Panic arose in your chest, but Seth stepped forward confidently. “This is someone special to me,” he said, and though he didn’t specify, the way he smiled at you left no doubt in your heart.

You and Seth exchanged glances as the laughter and chatter of the guys faded into the background. For this moment, nothing else mattered. You felt proud, joyful, and yes, still a little nervous. But with Seth by your side and the crowd still cheering his name, maybe this relationship wasn’t such a big secret after all.

In that moment, you decided that maybe taking a chance was worth the risk. Together, with laughter, excitement, and the thrill of wrestling, you had something special worth celebrating. The world of wrestling might be a place of chaos, but here, in this very moment, you felt at home. And for Seth, you would always cheer the loudest.

DO NOT TRANSLATE, COPY PUBLISH OR EDIT MY WORKS, I DO NOT CONSENT TO MY WORKS BEING PUBLISHED ON ANY 3RD PARTY WEBSITE. © bunbun 2025 - 2027🖇️ ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

[thegremlininyourcloset]

Cass headcanons be upon ye

and yes she is autistic because I’m autistic and also. It’s Cass.

She LOVES music. She’ll listen to literally any genre.

her favorites are pretty much any variant of rock/metal, and music with lots of violins:string instruments. Yes she listens to Lindsey Stirling. Also loves music she can easily dance to

Does sometimes struggle to process the lyrics of songs tho

loves pretty much any kind of art

Is fascinated by good actors, who’s body language matches their characters emotions and is different from their own

some of her favorite kinds of art other than dancing or music are visual

Cass thinks tattoos, artistic makeup (that’s colorful and creative) and face/body painting are really really cool

Cass has/will get a couple of tattoos

she likes the idea of making her body into a canvas for art (like how she likes dancing) (also Babs 100% got tattoos as a way to reclaim her body after the Killing Joke and the rise of Oracle, and when Cass learned this it really really stuck with her)

big physical stimmer

she talks with her hands, does Dino arms, spins around (usually in textbook-perfect dancer form), bounces, cartwheels…etc

dancing and fighting are both forms of stimming for her

she has had multiple conversations with Dick while the both of them are doing handstands for no apparent reason

she has echolalia

If you make a weird noise at her or in her vicinity she will always make one back

there has been at least one instance of Cass and Damian meowing at each other for like 30 minutes

it may or may not have spread to everyone else

she is a pack rat, she keeps Everything.

Once when Bruce told her not to break in someplace she looked him dead in the eyes and went “be gay do crimes”

She does this Every. Time someone scolds her for something she’s not guilty about

make uncomfortably intense eye contact

Once, Tim was terrified she was really mad at him because she was staring into his soul, only for Cass to go “Gimme your cheeseburger”

likes cheese a normal amount (no she does not)

Swears a lot. Like. A lot. She will call you a cunt

Bruce blames Steph for this

Actually, Bruce blames Steph for a Lot of Cass’s chaotic tendencies. He’s wrong, she’s just Like That

how much she talks depends on how she’s feeling

on a Good Day, she talks a lot, narrating every thought in her head, sometimes tripping over her words and forgoing grammar in her rush to get them out

She usually takes some time to formulate her thoughts into sentences though

but on Bad Days?

TW for self harm ahead

she has a couple different kinds of Bad Day

the first, where she talks very little if she speaks at all, and is incredibly clingy to everyone she loves, barely letting them out of her sight. She doesn’t really join what their doing, rather standing on the fringes like a guard dog

on the second of Bad Day, she doesn’t speak a word, and locks herself in the dance studio, or worse, the exercise rooms, and dances or trains until she drops. And even then…

on these kinds of Bad Days, Cass can barely tolerate other people speaking

on the third kind of Bad Day, she locks herself somewhere soundproof and just screams. Screams until her voice is hoarse and she can barely breathe, and then she keeps screaming. She bangs on walls till her hands are bloody and sobs herself sick and digs her nails into her arms and tugs her hair. All until she passes out

she never talks about that kind of Bad Day

@fictfrenzy @themoonwitch-mustspeak

[ivy-loves-chocolate]

I love your work so so much! Got any headcanons on how the RE men (especially Chris, Karl, Albert, and Krauser) would feel about a tall fem!reader (I’m 5’11 myself and would love to see more taller fem inserts) fluff and nsfw welcome 😊

AAAH thank you so much! Your love and appreciation always cheer me up ♥️ Of course I got some headcanons for you anon! Enjoy 💖

I'm very sorry for my absence, a lot happened irl 😭 changed my job, went through 2 break-ups, and got pregnant, and then I wasn't... it's a lot looking back, but I try to get better.

Also, I wanna do commissions again, so if you're interested dm me or visit https://ko-fi.com/ivyscommissions 🤗

Fluff:

♡ Chris, standing at 6’1”, is used to being the big, protective guy in any situation. With a tall reader, he’s pleasantly surprised to meet someone who’s almost eye-to-eye with him. He loves the fact that he doesn’t have to bend down much for a kiss or to wrap an arm around your waist.

♡ He finds your height incredibly attractive, because not only it's a change in perspective, since he is always towering over everyone, but he also loves you figure, especially your long legs.

♡ He adores sparring with you during training sessions, as he is impressed by how you hold your ground against him with your long reach and powerful stance.

♡ When you are not in a mission or training, you value the moments you spent togheter and try to make them as cozy as possible. Your height makes cuddling feel balanced, as your head is resting just under his chin and your legs are tangled together on the couch.

NSFW:

♡ Chris is all about power dynamics, and your height ignite his fantasies. He’s a big guy, so having a tall partner like you who can match his energy gets him going. He loves pinning you against a wall, feeling your long legs wrap around his waist as he lifts you effortlessly.

♡ He’s into rough, passionate sessions where he can test your strength- maybe a playful match that ends with him on top, grinning down at you. He also loves to tease you, especially when you "lose".

"Look like I have the high ground now." He'd said with an arogant smirk, as he lifts you legs around his shoulders, starting to go deep inside. He loves to see how your tits bounce in the air as he pounds inside you like there is no tomorrow.

♡ Did I mention that he loves your long legs? He wants to fell them around his neck, waist and over his shoulder while he is eating you. He wants to feel them squeeze around his body, because not only it turns him on so much, but it also ensure clousure between you two.

♡ He also has a thing for watching you ride him, admiring the way your tall frame moves with confidence, your hands braced on his chest as you take control. Your height makes every position feel intense and equal, and he can’t get enough of it.

Fluff:

♡ Karl is a chaotic, full of life, "crazy scientist" type of guy with a large build and imposing demeanour, and his height only adds up to his noticeable presence.

♡ He’s absolutely delighted by your height, as he is not used to people coming close to his stature, so he’s instantly intrigued and a little obsessed.

“Well, damn, darlin’, you’re a tall drink of water, ain’t ya?” he’d say with a smirk, sliding his glasses down his nose, letting his green eyes to scan you up and down. He loves that you can stand shoulder-to-shoulder with him while he works in his factory, and he’s always showing off by bending metal into little trifles for you with a wink.

♡ Despite his usual rough way to be, he’s surprisingly affectionate, his love language being physical touch. He will slide an arm around your waist to pull you close to him, whispering sweet words in you ear and kissing your soft skin with gentle kisses. He likes that he doesn't have to bend over to reach his favorite spots.

NSFW:

♡ Karl is a wild card in bed, and your height tuns him on even more. He has a thing for dominance, but with you being so tall, he gets off on the challenge of it.

“Think you can handle me, sweetheart?” he’d taunt, pushing your body down onto a workbench in his factory like your weight nothing. His hands will travel over your long legs as he raises them around his hips.

♡ He loves fucking you hard and fast, the sound of metal creaking beneath you as he thrusts into your tight pussy, groaning at how well you take him.

♡ He’s also into bending you over surfaces, admiring the way your tall frame looks stretched out for him, your ass in the air as he pounds into you from behind. The contrast of his grimy, industrial world and your statuesque beauty drives him wild. He’ll mutter filthy praise about how fucking perfect you look while he’s balls-deep inside you, his cum dripping down your thighs.

Fluff:

♡ Wesker is 6'7" , a giant compared to the rest. He towers above everyone with pride and arrogance, his god-complex being fuelled constantly as he glances down on everybody.

♡ It's canon that he loves tall women, and he finds long legs very, very attractive.

♡ It's safe to say that you catch his attention easily, as he finds your height an elegant trait which complements his own imposing presence.

“You’re quite the specimen,” he would say in his cold, deep tone while his red eyes glister behind his sunglasses.

♡ In your intimate moments, he enjoys the way you can look him in the eye without craning your neck- it makes conversations feel more like talking with an equal. He’s not overly affectionate, but he’ll occasionally run a gloved hand down your arm or stand close enough that your heights create a striking, powerful image together.

NSFW:

♡ Wesker loves to control his partner, and when he is with you, he enjoys in the dynamic of dominating someone who’s physically imposing in their own right.

♡ He loves to push your body against any flat surface, the wall, with his superhuman strength. It doesn't matter what it is- a bed, a wall, a lab table- just wrap your long legs around his muscular body and feel him pump inside you like the maniac he is. It also turns him on to see how easily he can push your tall body around and how easily you surrender under his touch.

“You thought you could intimidate me?” he’d whisper, his voice hinting a bit of mockery as he fucks into you with steady, ruthless thrusts.

♡ He’s fascinated by the way your long legs tremble when he teases your clit with his fingers, or how your pussy clenches around his cock when he takes you from behind, forcing you to bend over for him.

♡ He’s also into more experimental play- tying your wrists above your head to emphasise your tall frame, watching you squirm as he edges you with slow, deliberate touches. When he finally lets you cum, he watches with a smirk as your body shudders, cum and pussy juice mixing as they drip down your long thighs, a testament to his power over you.

Fluff:

♡ Krauser is about 6’0”. Being a man who values strength above all, he'll see your height as a sign of power and potential.

“Not bad, soldier. You’ve got the build for a fight,” he’d grunt with a rare smirk, sizing you up during a training session.

♡ He loves that you’re almost as tall as him; it makes him feel like he’s found a true equal, someone who can keep up with his brutal pace. Even if he is not a big softie, he shows his care through action, like standing protectively close during missions, or giving you a quick kiss on the cheek when you obey his orders.

♡ He’s also the type to toss you a weapon with a challenging grin, eager to see how a tall, strong woman like you handles herself in combat.

♡ Behind close curtains, he can be very gentle and carrying. He'd massage your sore feet, give your back a good rub and even make dinner for you. Everything for his tall queen.

NSFW:

♡ Krauser’s a beast in the bedroom, and your height just makes him want to test your limits. He’s into rough, physical sex, and having a tall partner like you means he doesn’t have to hold back.

“Let’s see if you can keep up, huh?” he’d say, shoving you onto the bed or against a wall in some abandoned military base, his hands gripping your hips as he fucks you with raw, animalistic force. He also enjoys the rush of adrenaline he feels at the though of getting caught. He gets one helluva of erection, so the higher the risk the better.

♡ He loves the way your long legs look when they’re wrapped around him, or how your height lets him bend you over at just the right angle to go deep inside you.

♡ He’s got a thing for knife play too- running the blade along your long limbs, watching you shiver before he tosses it aside to focus on making you cum. When he’s done, he’ll grunt satisfied as he watches his cum leak out of you. He has a sense of pride in him knowing he pleased such a beautiful, tall woman like you.

[thelostboyslove-ect]

Tour Mates (The Lost Boys X Fem!Reader) Chapter 1

(Hello, Hi, How ya goin. So I have been lurking in the Lost Boys fandom for over a year now and have been feral for these boys for far too long to not have an insane amount of ideas about them. So as if this movie didn't have a strong enough chokehold on me already, it led me to write my first ever fic. I have no idea if it's any good, but I hope someone out there at least enjoys the vision. This will be multiple chapters cause I can't shut up. Behold! Whatever this is!

P.S. I know Dwayne and his actor aren’t actually 6’7. But ya girl is 5’10 and may have a small size kink and this is my fic😤So let a girl live.)

Pairing: The Lost Boys x Fem!Reader (Poly Lost Boys implied)

Work count: 1208

Warnings: Darker Fic, misogyny, sexism, allusions to sex, allusions to murder, the boys being whores. Smut in future chapters.

Summary: You had always wanted nothing more than to be in a band and share your music with the world, and you were finally on your way to doing so. If only your band was big enough to do it alone.

You had always wanted to be a musician. Always. Ever since you could remember. From a child when you would sit and listen to whatever music your dad loved, making you guess titles and quiz you on the bands. From when you were a preteen and had the freedom to branch out to whole new styles of music you had never heard, buying records with what little money you could save. From when you got a guitar on your thirteenth birthday and played every moment you could after school and every chance on the weekends. From when you were fifteen and your friends made the choice to form a band. And from when you made the promise that very day that you would be the most legendary band in history.

While you were yet to be the most legendary band in history, for now, you were finally making moves. You were nowhere near Motely Crue, but you were getting somewhere. After years of writing, months upon months of being in studios, and all the savings you could muster. You finally had the money, the managers, and the following to go on tour. Your dream was coming true. If only there wasn’t one slight, incredibly frustrating, and immensely infuriating problem.

While you had the monetary ability to tour and quite the following, you weren’t quite big enough to tour on your OWN. Enter stage left the current bain of your existence—The Lost Boys. A Californian glam rock heavy metal band just starting to find their feet os so luckily at the same time as you. The band consisted of David the lead singer, a dominant man who truly embodied the idea of a frontman. Marko the bassist - the secondhand man to David as they had said themselves which had been proven multiple times with the way Marko seemed to wait on David hand and foot, never seeming to be too far behind him. Paul the lead guitarist, a wild chaotic lady’s man who always smelt of weed where it may be his erratic behavior took him. And last but DEFINITELY not least Dwayne. The drummer, an imposing 6’7 man who seemed to be made of muscle, with an intense gaze that could make anyone feel immense fear or simply melt depending on his mood.

At first, it had seemed perfect. They were nice, if not slightly flirty (aka clawing to get into your pants from the get go) and your bandmates got along brilliantly with them. You loved their music and it matched your sound really well. It was the ideal situation. That was until maybe a month into the tour. You could understand the excitement for a while, the booze, the drugs, the women, the partying. You’d be a hypocrite if you had blamed them for enjoying those things seeing as you had partaken in them yourself. But you thought that maybe after a little while that they would maybe calm down a bit. But they seemed pretty dead set on sticking to their band's slogan of sleeping all day and partying all night. Which you would respect if it wasn’t for the fact that it was impacting your ability to sleep at all, and in turn, your ability to play.

Now it was already hard being a woman in the rock industry, but being the only woman on an otherwise all-male tour? That came with a whole nother set of problems. You had been called every misogynistic name under the sun. Constantly told you couldn’t play, which your predicament was only adding fuel to the fire. Even more, you had your fair share of being told that the only reason that any of the boys kept you around on the tour, is so that they can have someone around as a backup to fuck on the nights they can't pull any groupies. A sleazy stand-in kept in reserve for desperate nights.

This is where the resentment began. You obviously didn’t care about anyone on tour sleeping around or bringing people back to the hotels, it came with the territory, and your boys did it pretty regularly. But the lost boys were seemingly insatiable. Bringing groups of fawning girls back to their (weirdly) shared hotel room every single night. Of course, this word spread and they inevitably got nothing but praise for their man whore behavior. As where you had been branded a slut for so much as picking up a guitar and being in a band. You had even only made out with one man on the entirety of the tour! The opportunity to go any further being ruined by the band in question themselves when they stumbled across you and refused to leave, glowering at the man till he took his hands off of you and left. A strange situation but nonetheless frustrating. The resentment only grew as the situation began to affect you in other ways than just your image and reputation.

When the boys would bring these girls back to their room it would always go the same. At some ridiculous hour of the morning you would hear the drunken love-struck giggles of the group of girls they had chosen for the night, followed by the strong voice of David beckoning them into the room, insisting for them to make themselves at home, to even shed a few layers to get comfortable, which would inevitably be followed by whooping and hollering from the other boys and then the music would start blaring. But no matter how loud they would blast the music you could always still hear the giggling, which would turn to moaning, which would turn to shrieking. You had to admit the first few nights, hell even to this day, it sometimes frightens you. Sometimes the screams just don’t seem as pleasurable as they should. Sometimes they are…almost blood-curdling. Like someone losing a fight for their life. But you know that’s just your imagination running wild, because just inevitably as the girls being there every night, the moaning would return. Always just the boys though, but you always imagined they had just fucked the girls out so much that they didn’t have the energy to make much noise.

These nightly occurrences would not bother you if it weren’t for the fact that while they were up and causing chaos, you were up and unable to sleep. Which for the first few weeks, was fine, but now nearing a month and a half of borderline sleepless nights due to the proclivities of your tour mates, you were starting to come undone. You didn’t have the luxury of sleeping all day, so naps in your dressing room were having to suffice and that would inevitably have an effect on your performance. You can't remember the last time you got through a show and didn’t mess up at least a segment or two from a few songs.

But after all of that what had been your final straw, was the boys being AWARE of the effects their actions had on you. They HAD to be from the way they had taunted you, teased you. The acts had become more frequent as the days went on. And ton your aggravation, harder to forget about.

[000-pawz]

how woonhak loves ( zodiac series ) ˚ · .

how i think woonhak would navigate relationships/love/communication based on his natal chart/birth chart!

wc: 1k+

more under the cut!

three words to describe woonhak are "intimate, intense, and safe".

woonhak can be quite... chaotic when he truly has a crush on someone. with both his sun and venus being in sagittarius, he views love with an open-mind and an open-heart. he doesn't necessarily have a "type" per say, and i wouldn't really say he knows exactly what he's looking for. he's completely guided by his feelings and the spur of the moment. he is definitely a victim of the friends-to-lovers pipeline >< i feel like he ends up crushing on his friends because of that connection they have already formed.

with his venus conjunction mars, woonhak is very popular, sociable, and sensitive. when woonhak likes you, you will know and so will everyone else. he’s a big imaginative dreamer when it comes to love and because of his moon in pisces, he feels very deeply. he can't hide his feelings! he can come across as "emotionally weak" simply becomes he succumbs to his emotions so easily, so woonhak would be head over heels for anyone he has a crush on. i get the feeling that he will confess in literally the first week of liking someone. ><

now, he is a scorpio mars. he craves that intense connection with his partner and can be quite a spontaneous lover. he's pretty impulsive in the pursuit of love and he will always see the best in people. therefore, he can look at people through rose-tinted glasses, similarly to jaehyun (enfp sag suns </3) he simply follows his gut, no matter what.

while he seeks deep and authentic relationships, he falls in love easily. he can sometimes idealize his partner and feed into his own delusions about them, seeing them as this perfect person who was put on this earth just for him. this can cause tension when he struggles to balance his dreamy, spacey nature with the reality of the situation. you may be his perfect match, but everyone has flaws of course!

woonhak doesn't dream of the "settle down" type of love. he wants those new and exciting experiences and feelings. he'd like fun and thrilling dates like riding rollercoasters at amusement parks, jetskiing, hiking, and stuff like that. please do not make him take a class or sit still... his attention span isn't long enough for that!!!

he is an incredibly compassionate lover and loves helping his partner. with his pisces moon, he provides comfort and solace to those he cherishes and puts his partner's well-being before his own. he is huuuuggeee on emotional intimacy because he is so intensely empathetic and he's an amazing listener as well <3

sometimes he can be overwhelmed by his own feelings and the feelings of others. if you are having a bad day, he will be grumpy too. if you are crying, he will cry with you. if you are excited, he's even more excited! he's very influenced by his environment so what you put in will be what he puts out.

because he has a scorpio mercury, woonhak can be your best hypeman and give amazing pep talks, but he ways of going about it is kind of funny. if you had a bad encounter with a classmate, woonhak will literally dog on that person in order to lift you up and make you feel better. whoever you hate, he hates too ><

the thing that makes woonhak so complex is that, although he is a big extrovert and loves being around his partner, he also needs alone time. if he is too overwhelmed or feeling insecure, he can go into hermit mode. when he gets like this, he can be hot-tempered and sharp-mouthed. on the other end of things, he can also fall into depression and find himself spiraling with his own thoughts. give him time to work things out on his own and trust that he will confide in you when he's ready. if he's at his worse and doesn't feel emotionally supported, he may detach himself and pull away slowly.

another thing is that because of his pisces-sag moon-venus, he can get a little obsessive and jealous. his mind can turn into a one-rail track of just his partner and he can sort of put them on a pedestal. because he craves such a deep, intense connection, this can come across as overbearing or "too much" for those who are not on his level of emotional complexity. i see him as most compatible with people who can provide stability for him, or people who can match him at that emotional level.

when it comes to conflict, woonhak tries to avoid it as much as possible. he struggles with being assertive and setting boundaries, so this can lead to some problems. with his scorpio mars, he tends to keep his cool on the surface, but let things stew and holds grudges until it leads to emotional outbursts. when this happens, it's important for his partner to not undermine his feelings. don't say that he's overreacting because he will shut down.

with healthy communication, woonhak can be really passionate and deep. he would probably utilize "i-statements" like "when you did this, i felt..." and would seriously listen to you and how you felt about the situation as well. he won't ever lie to you when communicating because he always says exactly what he means. be honest, patient, and understanding when communicating and problems will be resolved smoothly!!!

to make woonhak feel loved, you must provide him with a lot of reassurance. remind him that his feelings matter!!! although he can be pretty impulsive, he is still self-aware. he knows that he is very emotional and he can sometimes get embarrassed about it. reassure him that it's okay to feel as deeply as he does! that's why so many people love him <3 let him rest his head in your lap while you play with his hair and massage his scalp, give him lots of kisses, and remind him that he doesn't have to hide true self around you. ^___^

woonhak cannot be with someone who dismisses his emotions or is too critical of his feelings. he thrives in spaces that respect, support, and encourage his sensitivity. a good partner for him would be someone who is nurturing, patient, and understanding. he feels most secure when he feels completely understood and accepted for who he is. <333

reblogs are greatly appreciated! lmk what u think or if you have any other takes!!! i'm always open to learning more :o thank u...<3

series masterlist

masterlist

[brunettemarionette]

@crownjewel123

𝗗𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻

𝐈 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐤𝐢!

Stiles is goofy, nerdy, and easygoing—he perfectly fits your preference for a partner who isn’t dominant but brings a positive and lighthearted energy. He has that shy/nerdy appeal, but he’s also incredibly loyal and loving, which would match your straightforward and open personality well. He’s high-energy and creative, so your shared love for arts, humour, and deep conversations would make for an exciting relationship. He’d love how bold and direct you are because he needs someone who can keep up with his fast-moving brain but also ground him when he spirals.

𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗻𝘀

You and Stiles absolutely have a Pinterest board for cursed ideas—from bizarre Halloween costumes to aesthetic goth bedroom redesigns.

People have stopped asking what you two are laughing about because it’s either completely random or so deep in inside joke territory that no one else can follow.

At 3 AM, Stiles is like, "You know what would be funny?" and you’re like, "Yes, let’s do it." That’s how you both end up at Walmart in matching character onesies buying 12 gallons of glitter glue for no reason.

If anyone messes with you, Stiles is ready to throw hands, but he also knows you can handle yourself (which he finds both impressive and hot).

You both forget what you were saying mid-sentence and just stare at each other until one of you remembers. No one else understands, but it works.

𝗜𝗻𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝗤𝘂𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀

You: "I have an idea." Stiles: "I love it. I support it. Let’s do it." Scott: "You haven’t even heard what it is yet—" Stiles & You (in sync): "Irrelevant."

Stiles: "You’d miss me if I died." You: "I’d literally kill you if you died." Stiles: "...fair."

𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗯𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱

Lydia Martin — She appreciates your straightforward nature and loves your creativity. You, in turn, admire her intelligence and make her laugh when she needs it most. You and Stiles constantly drag her into chaotic adventures, and she pretends to be annoyed but secretly loves it.

𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗣

Derek Hale — He is way too intense, broody, and dominant. You’d constantly butt heads because he’s stubborn and doesn’t like being challenged, major power struggles. He’s emotionally closed-off, which would probably frustrate you since you’re so open about what you think and feel. He doesn’t do well with humour—your jokes in awkward moments would go right over his head or annoy him.

𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲

The Snarky One & The Dramatic One – He rants dramatically, and you respond with sarcasm.

We Shouldn’t Be Left Unsupervised – Scott literally has a crisis every time he leaves you two alone because something always happens.

Best Friends to Lovers – The most natural transition ever. One day you’re joking, the next you’re making heart eyes at each other.

𝗣𝗹𝗼𝘁 𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲

Partners in Crime

𝗗𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻

𝐈 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐀𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐂𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧!

Alice is the perfect mix of artsy, eccentric, and positive energy, which would help counterbalance your struggles with depression. She adores people she loves and would absolutely dote on you in a way that feels supportive rather than overbearing. She’s insanely creative, so she’d love your artistic side and probably collaborate with you in things like designing clothes, painting, or just creating fun projects together. She’s super adaptable, meaning she’d match your ever-changing moods, whether you’re feeling more pastel goth or vampiric goth that day.

𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗻𝘀

Alice loves dressing you up, and she gets so excited when you match your aesthetic to your mood. She loves how you can change your aesthetic on the fly: Pastel one day, then earthy tones and then deep vampiric? A fashionistas dream.

Everyone thinks you’re adorable together, but you’re also the most unpredictable duo ever.

Alice helps fuel your artistic side, and you inspire her to create new things instead of just predicting them.

Alice surprises you with tiny gifts or spontaneous trips, and you write her poetry or songs.

She sometimes gets lost in visions of the future, but you bring her back to the present with jokes, kisses, or just holding her hand.

𝗜𝗻𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝗤𝘂𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀

You: "If I ever get possessed, how will you know it’s not me?" Alice: "If you suddenly start making bad fashion choices, I’m calling an exorcist."

You: "Alice, please stop getting visions of my decisions before I make them." Alice: "Nope. Also, don’t eat that, you’ll regret it."

𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗯𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱

Emmett Cullen — He thinks you’re hilarious and loves your direct, no-nonsense attitude. He constantly hypes you up and joins in on your and Alice’s chaotic plans just to see what happens.

𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗣

Edward Cullen — He’s way too controlling and wouldn’t respect your independence. He’s also dramatic and brooding; you need someone more lighthearted and easygoing. He would overanalyse everything you say and do, which would be exhausting to you, and he’s too traditional; you’re more creative and spontaneous, which would frustrate him.

𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲

Sunshine & Grump – Alice is the excitable ray of sunshine, and you’re her cool, stylish, sarcastic partner.

Power Couple Vibes – You turn heads when you walk in together, radiating an effortless mix of goth royalty & artistic charm.

Romantic Teasing – Constant flirty banter that is half sarcasm, half genuine love.

𝗣𝗹𝗼𝘁 𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲

Soulmate AU - Alice Sees a Vision of You Before Meeting You. She knows you’re her soulmate before you even know she exists.

[one-lucky-day]

SQUID GAME MAIN SIX - AS RARE NATURAL PHENOMENA

Seong Gi-hun - Moonbow

A moonbow is a rare phenomenon that occurs when moonlight creates a rainbow. It’s subtle, often not as vivid as a typical rainbow, and happens under very specific conditions. This fits Gihun’s personality. He’s someone who, despite facing struggles and seeming ordinary, has moments of brilliance and beauty in his character. He may not always be in the spotlight, but when it counts, his strength shines through quietly, just like a moonbow.

---

Cho Sang-woo - Flammable ice bubbles

Flammable ice bubbles are rare, formed when bubbles are trapped in ice and can be ignited. While the ice itself is cold and seemingly harmless, the hidden, volatile nature of these bubbles makes them incredibly dangerous. This reflects Sangwoo’s personality. On the surface, he may seem calm and composed, but there’s an inner volatility and potential for destruction. Like the ice bubbles, his true nature only reveals itself when provoked, and even then, it’s often hidden or carefully controlled.

---

Kang Sae-byeok - Frost Flowers

Frost flowers are rare, delicate ice formations that bloom on plants under specific conditions. They are fragile yet beautiful, much like Saebyeok’s quiet strength and emotional depth. Despite harsh conditions, frost flowers bloom, just as Saebyeok stays composed and strong in the face of adversity. They also represent her inner beauty and the fragility she hides, similar to how she conceals her personal pain and emotions.

---

Ali Abdul - Sailing Stones

Sailing stones in Death Valley are rare and mysterious, slowly moving across the desert floor, leaving tracks behind. They symbolize persistence and an unseen force driving them forward. Much like Ali, the stones move through an unpredictable environment, but they keep going, leaving a mark. Ali’s perseverance, despite the hardships he faces, matches the steady movement of the stones. His journey, though difficult, is one of quiet strength and determination to push through.

---

Jiyeong - Blue Hole

Blue holes are deep, underwater sinkholes that are stunningly beautiful and full of mystery. They represent something hidden beneath the surface, much like Ji-yeong’s character. While she may seem quiet or distant at times, there’s a lot of depth and emotion within her. The blue hole is serene but holds great power, just like Ji-yeong’s quiet strength and the intense experiences she carries beneath her calm exterior.

---

Han Min-yeo - Volcanic Lightning

Volcanic lightning is a rare phenomenon that happens during eruptions when the energy from the volcano creates lightning. It is chaotic, unpredictable, and powerful, much like Minyeo’s emotions. Her actions can be intense and explosive, making her presence impossible to ignore.

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

[cressidagrey]

First of all, I would like to say words can’t define what your book means to me. I have always been 100% full on MV1 and supporter, and reading this book makes me so appreciative of someone else, seeing his character and not his anger.

The one other thing that I really really love about white horse is that you have made it, so realistic, the other day I was at my house and I was watching interviews, and I literally got angry at Charles, even though he didn’t do anything wrong because your BOOK impacted me so much and it’s so realistic.

Personally, what I think is the best aspect of Whitehorse is that you have made Belle have a good relationship with Jos because in many Max Verstappen fics they make it that the female character hates jos which is just not realistic . while I understand that he was not a good father and didn’t give Max a good childhood, he is still a really big aspect of Maxs life and Max loves his father. i don’t like him but I can understand how max does.

Your book helped me go through a really really tough time, and I hope you never stop writing because your book is so beautifully written and is hundred percent my favourite book I have ever read . This is a really huge compliment because I have been reading books since I was four and I am a huge reader.

One suggestion is that I think it would be so crazy and funny and perfect If Max by mistake blurts out the fact that belle is pregnant while he is drunk

I can’t thank you enough for writing this book because I am in love . I am only 16, but your book has impacted me in so many ways because I have felt like belle all my life and this BOOK gives me hope that someone will love me like max loves her.

Btw , do you think Max and Belle match the song Do I wanna know by Hozier?

Also a few verstappen baby names:

Theodore , Felix , Ezra , Kaden , Percy , Benedict for boys and Flaorence , Eloise , Thea for girls

First of all, thank you so much for your incredibly kind words. I am blown away by everything you’ve said. To hear that White Horse has had such a profound impact on you, especially as someone who deeply connects with Belle’s character, means the absolute world to me. I’m so glad the story has resonated with you in a way that makes you feel seen and understood, especially as a fellow Max Verstappen supporter who’s always been able to see the depth in his character. I’m truly honored.

I’m also really happy you appreciate how I’ve written Belle’s relationship with Jos. I agree with you—it’s important to recognize that Max’s relationship with his father, despite all the complications, is a major part of his life. I’m glad you think it’s more realistic that way. I really want to portray Max as a complex character, and showing that side of his relationship with Jos adds depth to his story, while still recognizing his flaws.

The fact that White Horse helped you through a tough time is the highest compliment I could ever receive. I never expected my work to have that kind of impact, and it touches me deeply to know it’s provided comfort and hope. Thank you so much for sharing that. And I absolutely love the idea of Max blurting out Belle’s pregnancy while drunk—hilarious, chaotic, and perfect. I might just have to make that happen. 😏

As for the song Do I Wanna Know by Hozier? I think it could definitely fit Max and Belle. It has that raw, emotional intensity that mirrors their relationship—both the ups and the struggles. It’s a perfect fit for them!

And those baby names? You’ve got some great suggestions in there! I love how thoughtful they are, and I’m so excited to see where Max and Belle’s little one takes the story.

Thank you again for your beautiful message, your support, and for being such an amazing reader. I’m so happy White Horse has resonated with you so deeply. You’re honestly the best, and I’m so excited to continue sharing this journey with you! 💖

[aventurineswife]

Stages of Shadows:

R O U N D 6

[Special thanks to Natto for graciously allowing me to use their incredible artworks. Please support their amazing work by following them on Instagram: @yattapan. Thank you, Natto (if you're reading this, lol), for once again allowing me to use your artworks with full credit given to you! I hope you enjoy this!]

The stage was dimly lit, the harsh spotlight casting long shadows across the stage. The crowd’s noise had faded into a low hum, like a distant storm that threatened to break at any moment. The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, but Aventurine was numb to it all. His usual flamboyance, his mischievous grin, and the gleam in his eyes—those were gone. The man standing on the stage now was a shell of what he had been, his once vibrant persona buried under the weight of exhaustion and sorrow.

Aventurine stood center stage, his posture slumped, a stark contrast to the usual calculated, confident air he used to project. His hand gripped the microphone, but his fingers were tight around it, as if it were the only thing keeping him anchored to reality. He was clad in black clothing, an ensemble that matched the dark emptiness swirling inside him. His eyes, once sharp and calculating, were now hollow, distant, staring at nothing in particular.

‘Where are you, [Name]?’ He thought, the weight of their absence like a heavy stone pressing down on his chest. ‘Why did you have to leave me?’

The music began to swell, but it didn’t stir him the way it once did. His voice, when it finally came, was quiet at first—a murmur lost in the sea of noise. But as the lyrics flowed from his lips, they carried an emotional depth that seemed to shake even the hardened audience.

“Allow me, to the tips of your fingers

Allow me, to the ends of your feet

Dissolve me in your gaze

I don’t want to let you go”

Each note was a whisper of his heart’s agony. There was no passion, no fire behind the words anymore—just the emptiness of a man who had lost everything. The song was no longer a performance; it was a cry. His voice cracked once, but he pushed through, forcing the words out even though they felt like daggers scraping the inside of his throat.

The lights above him flickered, casting shifting shadows across the stage. But the audience—those cruel, apathetic spectators—didn’t care. They watched with eager, unblinking eyes, but Aventurine saw nothing but their hollow faces, staring like vultures at something already dead. He was dying inside. His soul was withering.

Aventurine’s voice faltered as the lyrics continued to pour out of him, desperate, raw, as though he was trying to will himself to feel something—anything.

“Please, leave me scars

Please, hurt me so that

Not a single drop of me remains

Let me drown in you”

His voice trembled on the final note, but he didn’t stop. Instead, it grew more intense, a plea laced with anguish, his throat raw from the pain of each word. The crowd’s cheers seemed distant, unimportant. As the words left his mouth, his mind spiraled, and everything around him began to blur.

The sounds of the audience faded, and Aventurine found himself no longer on the stage, but in a cold, sterile room—distant, isolating, suffocating. The memory hit him like a punch to the gut.

He was standing in front of a long table, a group of faceless figures dressed in dark suits sitting behind it. Their expressions were unreadable, but the weight of their gaze was heavy. They were the ###—the ones who had brought him into this sick game. They were the ones holding his life by a string, dictating the terms of his survival. The same ones who had made him promise everything—his soul, his loyalty—if he won.

Aventurine’s hands were shackled to the chair in front of him, his body tense, awaiting whatever came next. His heart raced as they pushed him, trying to force an answer from him about the deal—questions he didn’t have answers to. His mind was scattered, chaotic, filled with one burning question: Where is [Name]?

One of the figures slammed a file onto the table in front of him. It was a newspaper clipping, and at the top in bold letters, the word “ＭＩＳＳＩＮＧ” was stamped across [Name]’s profile. His heart dropped, and his stomach twisted into knots.

His pulse pounded In his ears as he stared at the image. There they were, the one person he had trusted, the only one who had shown him true kindness, now lost.

Aventurine’s vision blurred. He had no idea where they were. Had they died? Had they left him behind, abandoned him so easily after everything they had been through? The questions gnawed at him, but none of them brought any answers. Only emptiness.

‘Did I mean nothing to them?’

The words felt like chains, tighter with every thought, as though the walls around him were closing in, suffocating him. He couldn’t breathe. His mind raced to try to piece together the puzzle, but the more he thought, the more frantic he became.

Suddenly, one of the figures—too close, too invasive—grabbed the back of his head, forcing him down toward the table. His face scraped the cold surface as the pressure of the hands on his hair grew.

Aventurine’s heart skipped a beat as he saw the newspaper clipping slide closer to his face. He couldn’t get away from it. He couldn’t escape the sight of [Name]’s profile—lost, missing, slipping through his fingers like sand.

The world felt too small. He felt too small.

A flash of white-hot fury ignited within him. His heart pounded in his chest like a drumbeat, loud and unyielding. His body moved before his mind could catch up, his fist crashing into the face of the man who had pushed him down. The force of the punch sent the person sprawling backward, momentarily stunned. The clatter of a chair hitting the ground rang in his ears, and the smell of blood filled the air.

The memory shattered, and Aventurine gasped, back on the stage, the spotlight burning his skin. His breath came in short, sharp gasps, his pulse erratic, heart racing as if it would burst from his chest. His fist was still raised in the air, knuckles white, as if he had never stopped fighting.

“Until these falling stars

Are buried in the blur of time

On your icy lips

Read my soul

Yes, my soul”

Aventurine continued, his voice trembling with something more than just sorrow—rage, desperation, confusion, all woven together in the melody. His voice cracked again, the strain too much, but he pushed on, clinging to the song as though it were the only thing keeping him tethered to his fragile reality.

The audience was silent, watching, waiting for him to fall apart completely, but the man they saw on stage was not the same one who had entered. The flamboyant, carefree strategist was gone. In his place stood someone raw, exposed, and vulnerable—someone who had given too much and lost too much to ever smile again.

Aventurine continued singing, lost in the rhythm of the melody, completely unaware of the storm of emotions unfolding beside him. His voice rang out into the air, each note a desperate plea, but he was distant, trapped in his own thoughts, disconnected from everything around him.

The spotlight shifted, Ratio stepped onto the stage, his presence shifting the air like a cold breeze. He moved with deliberate grace, his white suit gleaming under the stage lights. It was almost too pristine, as if he were stepping into a wedding, an unspoken irony in the starkness of his attire amidst the chaotic tension of the contest. He grabbed the microphone, his fingers brushing it lightly as his gaze drifted toward Aventurine.

Aventurine stood motionless, the hollow look in his eyes betraying the storm within him. He appeared to have given up—like a man who had lost everything, as if the very air around him was a reminder of someone who was gone. His emotions were shut off, the vulnerability once so raw now replaced by an empty stillness.

Ratio took a deep breath before he began to sing, his voice smooth and controlled, though the weight of the lyrics cut through him like a blade. His eyes never left Aventurine, watching as the other man stood frozen in place, his thoughts clearly lost in the past, in someone who was no longer there.

“Even if your cold words

Carve scars beneath my eyes

May they linger on your tongue

You can break me apart”

The haunting melody filled the space, but Ratio couldn’t focus on the performance itself. His thoughts were elsewhere, taking him back to memories of the moments they had shared—moments that now seemed as distant as the stars.

The world of the contest, the games that had driven them all to the edge of madness, was one of cruelty and manipulation. But there were moments, fleeting and fragile, where there was kindness—moments where Ratio and Aventurine had found each other amidst the chaos.

Ratio remembered the time just before the show began, when they had shared a quiet conversation backstage. Aventurine had been quiet, more so than usual, as if the weight of the competition had finally broken him. Ratio had tried to reach out to him, to find some way to keep him grounded.

“Notice my pain

And mend me right now

To quiet my fears

I’ll drown in you”

But even then, Aventurine’s thoughts were clouded with something else—someone else. [Name]. The one who had stolen his heart, the one who had always been there to pull him from the edge when he faltered. Ratio could see it now, that deep ache in Aventurine’s eyes, the unspoken question that had plagued him since the moment they were torn apart.

It was the same unspoken question that Ratio had tried to answer himself when he had found a way out—an escape from this cursed contest. They had nearly made it, nearly freed themselves from the grip of the game, but at the last moment, Aventurine had faltered. He had chosen to leave Ratio behind in the pursuit of [Name], to go back to a place where he could never leave things undone, even if it meant abandoning his only ally.

Under the moonlight, near a secret passage where other contestants had found their way out, Ratio stood watching Aventurine. He could see the resolve in his eyes, but it was torn. He was a man caught between two impossible choices: the friend who had stood by him and the person he couldn’t leave behind, even if it meant his own freedom.

Aventurine had walked back, taking those last few steps toward the uncertainty of the contest, leaving Ratio standing there with a bittersweet smile, knowing that his friend would never truly be free until he could reunite with [Name]. The sting of that moment lingered, the taste of abandonment still fresh, even now.

“Sick of these nights to come

To be engulfed in silence

In your gaze where I’m seen

Consume me

Yes, me, oh oh”

Ratio’s voice cracked slightly on the final line, a hint of emotion breaking through his otherwise controlled façade. He couldn’t help but feel the weight of their shared history, the sacrifices they had made for each other, and yet the unbearable truth that some wounds would never heal.

He had seen the toll this contest had taken on his friend, and he knew the battle wasn’t over yet. But in that moment, Ratio understood. Aventurine couldn’t leave [Name] behind, not now, not after everything they had been through together.

Aventurine continued singing, lost in the rhythm of the melody, completely unaware of the storm of emotions unfolding beside him. His voice rang out into the air, each note a desperate plea, but he was distant, trapped in his own thoughts, disconnected from everything around him.

“To this everlasting melody”

Meanwhile, Ratio’s voice blended with his, but his attention was no longer on the performance. His eyes drifted toward Aventurine, watching him with a depth of feeling that he couldn’t articulate. He saw his friend’s weariness, the faintest hints of defeat in his posture, and his heart ached for him.

“Face to face we dance”

But then, Ratio’s attention snapped back to the stage as he realized something. Aventurine had stopped singing.

The silence in the air was sharp, thick with tension. He could hear the low hum of the audience, the murmur of uncertainty spreading as Aventurine stood frozen. The rules were clear: failure to continue meant disqualification. The moment was slipping away from him.

“With our story

Lost in forever’s embrace

Until these falling stars

Are buried in the blur of time.”

Ratio’s mind raced, his thoughts tumbling over one another. This was the moment—the moment he had to make a decision. A doctor of truth, he knew the consequences of his actions, but right now, his only concern was the gambler in front of him. Aventurine would never forgive himself if he failed here, and Ratio couldn’t let him face that.

Without another thought, Ratio dropped his mic onto the stage, the clatter of it fading into the silence. He stepped toward Aventurine, whose eyes were glazed over, unaware of the imminent danger. The weight of his decision pressed on Ratio’s chest, but there was no turning back now.

The rain began to fall, soft at first, then heavier, as if the world itself mourned the coming sacrifice. The droplets cascaded around them, a curtain of water, but all Ratio could see was his friend.

Aventurine lifted his gaze slowly, meeting Ratio’s eyes with an expression that was too tired, too distant, to fully comprehend why Ratio was standing so close now.

Ratio’s steps were steady as he reached Aventurine, his hand moving to gently cup his friend’s neck. He leaned in close, his voice barely a whisper against the damp air.

“Take care of yourself, Gambler. Do stay alive. I wish you the best of luck.”

Before Aventurine could react, before he could even respond, Ratio’s grip tightened. His fingers dug into Aventurine’s neck—not with the intent to choke him, but to send him into unconsciousness. To ensure he wouldn’t see what Ratio was about to do, the sacrifice he was making.

But to the audience, it was a different story.

The moment Ratio’s hands moved, the security team took action, weapons raised. They had been watching, ready to intervene. Violence was strictly prohibited, and it was clear that Ratio had broken the rules. He would be executed for this.

Still, Ratio didn’t flinch. He didn’t fight. The shots came fast, the sound of gunfire cutting through the tense silence. His body jerked with each bullet that struck him, but it wasn’t until the fatal shot, aimed at a vital artery, that he stumbled, blood pouring from his mouth. His vision blurred, but he managed to glance up at the screen.

Aventurine’s scores were climbing. The crowd roared, oblivious to the price Ratio had paid for it.

His eyes locked with Aventurine’s one final time, and Ratio smiled—bitter, resigned, but sincere. The world seemed to slow as he released his hold on Aventurine’s neck, letting his friend slip from his grasp.

Ratio crumpled to the ground, lifeless, blood staining the stage beneath him. His body became a dark pool of crimson, the contrast to Aventurine’s still form standing in disbelief.

The music beat dropped, filling the space, but it felt like the entire world had stilled, as if the stage itself was mourning the loss.

Aventurine stood frozen, staring down at Ratio’s body, his fingers pressing against his neck in disbelief. His mind couldn’t process it—their shared history, the bond they had formed, had been shattered in a moment. Ratio was gone.

The black-and-white contrast between them was undeniable. Ratio’s pure white suit now stained with the blood that had once belonged to him. Aventurine’s own darkness, his own guilt and despair, a stark reflection of the sacrifice Ratio had made for him.

The stage, the contest, the audience—they all blurred away in that moment. There was nothing left but the realization that everything had changed.

But little did anyone know, amidst the chaos and the tragedy that had unfolded on that stage, [Name] was still alive and was back now.

They had made it, against all odds, and now they stood just outside the chaotic scene, their eyes fixed on the aftermath of the deadly contest. The silence hung in the air, but [Name] could feel the weight of the moment—the deaths, the sacrifices, the choices made in the name of survival.

They were here to rescue their friends, to end this madness once and for all. But unlike before, [Name] wasn’t alone this time. They had a new group with them, a new force, even if it came with complications. The Stellaron Hunters—each one with their own agenda, their own reasons for standing in the shadows—were now part of their cause.

With the Stellaron Hunters behind them, and their newfound strength, [Name] stepped forward into the fray. The world ahead of them was uncertain, but they would make sure it was their future, not the one dictated by fate or fear.

It was time to rewrite the story.

(@thijikoy on X/Twitter)

Thank you, Natto (if you're reading this, lol), for once again allowing me to use your artworks with full credit given to you!

[Navigation]

[ellieclaireblack]

sanctuaire | sanctuary

sanctuary | noun your safe and peaceful haven a comforting place of refuge and rest in a noisy, chaotic world

{brother's best friend | fem!reader x james potter} ⪼ warnings: mentions of abuse, panic attack, disorderd eating ⪼ word count: 2.6k

part three: quidditch playlist

story: sanctuaire | sanctuary

A week had passed since Sirius and I had our talk. Today was Saturday the 10th of January and it was quidditch day. The first game after the winter break and it would be Slytherin against Gryffindor. One of the most anticipated games of the season.

The excitement in the air was palpable as the day of the Quidditch match arrived. Slytherin versus Gryffindor, a rivalry that always sparked intense emotions and anticipation throughout the Hogwarts grounds. The Slytherin Royals, as our friend group was known, were particularly eager for this match, Adam and Theo both on the pitch and Flo and me in the stands rooting for them.

As we made our way to the Quidditch pitch, the atmosphere was electric. The cool January air bit at our skin, but the thrill of the upcoming game kept us warm. I could feel the eyes of my fellow students on me, their gazes filled with curiosity and perhaps a touch of speculation. The recent reconciliation with Sirius hadn't gone unnoticed, and people were bound to talk.

The stands were already buzzing with spectators, their cheers and jeers creating a lively backdrop to the upcoming clash. Florence, despite still recovering from being sick, joined us in the stands. She looked a bit pale, but her usual vivacious spirit shone through.

With the release of the Quaffle the game started and James on the Gryffindor and Adam on the Slytherin side shot to it. Slytherin gaining an advantage by getting the Quaffle first. Adam and Theo made their way to the goals passing the Quaffle back and forth. Gryffindor keeper Frank Longbottom was waiting for them. Theo aimed at the outer left goal, but Frank swerved and blocked the ball. Groans went through the Slytherin stands and all the other houses erupted in cheers. 

The game continued and at 40:70 for Gryffindor I saw Reggie dash to the bottom, probably having spotted the Snitch. What he didn’t see was a bludger directly behind him. I noticed Sirius did, diving after his younger brother, but it was too late. As Reg closed his fingers around the Snitch making Slytherin the winner of the match the bludger hit him in the shoulder and he fell to the ground. Unmoving.

I jumped up in shock and sprinted down the stand making my way onto the pitch. The quidditch players got there before me, however when they saw me sprinting down they made way for me. I knelt down besides Regulus and could barely suppress my tears. James slightly touched my shoulder and I nearly broke down there and then. The coldness of the freezing January day seeped into my body more and more by the second. 

Madam Pomfrey was summoned, and Regulus was brought to the hospital wing for treatment. I still couldn’t move. Only when hands made their way under my armpits and pulled me up I pulled myself together again. Sirius was steadying me.

I only know noticed Flo beside me. She grabbed my hand and we went up to the castle. Still in shock I couldn’t get out a word but my best friend just got me. We went back to our dorms and I bundled up in my bed until I was warm again, feeling incredibly exhausted all of a sudden.

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Suddenly a soft knock on my door could be heard. “Come in.”

The door opened but no one stepped in. Only steps could be heard. That damned Invisibility Cloak. “I’m not stupid. Pull the fucking cloak down.”

Suddenly James’ and Sirius’ heads were revealed. Both wearing a semi-happy expression. One I wasn’t used to. ”What’s going on? Were you in the infirmary already?” A slight nod confirmed my question and I was getting worried.

“Don’t worry. Reg will be fine, they just need the rest of the day and night, we can visit him tomorrow.” Relief washed over me. My baby brother being hurt was something that I could hardly bear to imagine.

“What are you doing here then?” I asked the guys, James having made himself comfortable on my bed. Taking up most of the space. Sirius was still hovering there, looking a bit uncomfortable. “I think James and you need to talk, so I’ll just leave the two of you for now. Okay?” I nodded growing warrier by the second. What was going on?

Sirius threw the Cloak over his shoulder again and the door was opened and closed again. James looked at me and I had trouble meeting his eyes. The whole thing felt like an intervention and I had no idea what I had done wrong.

“I had a talk with Sirius last week. I- need you to tell me what’s going on with you. Sirius won’t say a thing, repeating that it's not his story to tell. But I need to know. Since the holidays you haven’t been the same and I’m worried about you. You’re important to Sirius, important to me.” I swallowed my throat feeling incredibly dry all of a sudden. 

“Okay, but promise you won’t tell anybody else. Nobody besides my family knows and nobody can get word of this.” A nod from James let me carry on, taking a deep breath. I was about to lay my deepest, darkest secret bare in front of him. Troublemaker, jokester James, who wasn’t known for being able to keep something to himself.

“As you already know my dearest mother is a horrid person. During the holidays, the night when Sirius … left. When she found out she blamed me and… and she used some curses on me. Some Unforgivables, especially the C-Cruciatus Curse.” James looked like someone had slapped him, his eyes were a bit glossed over and his expression nearly broke my heart.

“I- I don’t even know what to say. I mean I’ve met your mother but Unforgivables. Wow, I'm speechless.” A minute of silence passed. James looked so disgusted I thought he would leave any minute. Maybe I’ve finally managed to scare him away. My biggest fear has always been scaring off my loved ones. Especially after burdening them with my problems. James’ hand brushed my arm and I flinched. James looked stricken, with shock. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t- don’t want to scare you. y/n I can hear your mind working overtime. Don’t worry I’m not scared of you, just incredibly worried. I- We need to get you out of that house, you can’t keep staying there. Nobody knows what’ll happen the next time when you’re home. By Merlin’s b-”

“James, stop. I appreciate you worrying about me, but I’ll stay home. I explained it to you last week. I can’t leave my father and Regulus. I am a big girl, you don’t need to worry about me. There’s no room for discussion about this and to be frank I’m sick of everybody looking out for me. I’m not some damsel in distress.” I tried to make matters sound lighter than they were. I knew I couldn’t convince James, but there was no way that I’d leave my home. As much as I hated it sometimes, there were so many treasured memories there that I couldn’t just leave.

James was about to answer but a knock on my door interrupted us. Flo stuck her head in the door, clearly surprised about James’ presence. “Dinner time, come on you two.”

────────────────  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ⋆ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ──────────────────

The Great Hall was filled with light chatter and the Slytherin table was no exception of that. My friends were talking about the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend, but I kept to myself. Shooting some glances over to James at the Gryffindor table. He looked distressed and while Sirius tried to cheer him up it didn’t seem to work.

Shaking my head I loaded some food onto my plate. Taking a few bites of my jacket potato I suddenly noticed Lilou, my owl, flying towards me and dropping a letter in my hands. I pet her and fed her a treat and she was off again. My papa gifted me the owl for my first year at Hogwarts and she’s become a companion of mine since then.

I looked at the letter and saw a Noble House of Black crest before I noticed her handwriting. Queasiness overcame me and I opened the letter. Careful not to draw attention to myself.

"Dearest daughter,

I trust you are maintaining the standards expected of a Black. It has come to my attention that you have been seen fraternizing with undesirable individuals. Your recent behavior is unacceptable, and you will face consequences if you continue down this path.

Your duty is to uphold the honor and purity of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. I suggest you reflect on your choices and make amends.

Also I expect you to come home in a fortnight, since I’m hosting a ball I want you and Regulus to be present on. Make sure you still fit in your dress when you get back otherwise there will be consequences.

Regards, Walburga Black"

I dropped my fork and it clattered loudly as it hit the plate. Half of Slytherin was mustering me now. I got up and made my way out of the Great Hall. Not rushing, I didn’t want to alarm anyone. My appetite had suddenly vanished. I had always had a difficult relationship with food. My mother making it extra hard for me. 

The weight of my mother's words bore down on me as I walked through the corridors of Hogwarts. The letter echoed the familiar tone of control and disdain that she always carried. I felt a mix of anger, frustration, and fear. The upcoming ball was a threat, and the consequences she spoke of were undoubtedly severe.

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I decided to head to the one place where I felt a semblance of peace – the Astronomy Tower. As I climbed the steps, I couldn't shake the feeling that my life was spiraling out of control. The cold wind greeted me as I reached the top, and the stars above provided a comforting backdrop.

I sank down onto the cold stone floor, my mind racing with thoughts. What could I do to avoid the impending disaster that awaited me at home? How could I protect Regulus from our mother's wrath? And what about my friendships with the Marauders?

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice someone approaching until a voice spoke, "Mind if I join you?"

I looked up to see James standing there, concern etched on his face. I nodded, and he sat down beside me. "What happened? You looked like you received some bad news back in the Great Hall."

I hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to share the contents of the letter with him. But the look in his eyes told me that he genuinely cared, so I handed him the parchment.

As he read the words, his expression hardened. "This is ridiculous. Your mother can't control every aspect of your life. You have to stand up to her."

Easier said than done, I thought. Deep down I knew James was right – I couldn't let her dictate my every move. "I just... I don't know how to handle this. The ball, the threats. It's overwhelming."

“I’ll figure something out. You’re not going to that ball, I’ll make sure of it.” Frustration filled me. James was just trying to help, however he didn't know how Maman could get when her commands weren’t listened to. 

“James, I appreciate you trying to help, but there’s no way I’m not having to go there. It’ll be fine, if I just behave for once she hasn’t got a reason to be angry with me.” I tried to reason with him. My mother was hard to please, but if I stopped talking to Sirius and his friends the next couple of weeks, minded my food intake and got full marks on all my tests and homeworks it would be fine. That wasn’t so hard, except the ignoring Sirius part. I’ve done the rest my whole life. My grades and my weight is something I can be in control of and while I wouldn’t admit it out loud I resonated with Maman about maintaining some sort of superiority. 

James sighed out loud, though he didn’t press on the matter anymore, knowing he couldn’t change my mind anyway. I was grateful for it. He was incredibly headstrong but he knew when he couldn’t get through with something and when best to change topics.

“Look there’s Reggie and Sirius.” I pointed out the constellations, the both of them being so familiar to me that I always found them. When I missed your brothers during the holiday I caught myself stargazing quite often. 

James and I continued talking until I felt my eyes grow heavy. James seemed sleepy too and we decided to call it a day and head back to your dorms. With a hug I silently thanked James and the both of us parted ways. James heading to Gryffindor tower.

I thought of your brother, lying injured in the infirmary and knew I couldn’t just go to sleep now. Looking over my shoulder James was out of sight and I sneaked off in the direction of the hospital wing. I knew I wasn't allowed there, but had a feeling my baby brother needed me.

The door opened with a light squeak and I hoped Madam Pomfrey was already asleep. There was only one occupied bed and Regulus’ eyes fluttered open as the sound of footsteps were heard.

His whole face lights up when he sees me. My little brother has always had a soft spot for his siblings. My heart warmed and all the troubles I was facing seemed to vanish. Reg had that effect on me. He was my sunshine. Many people wouldn’t believe the snarky, sassy and mean Regulus Arcturus Black had such a soft side. That was the side I loved most about him, when he just lets himself be happy and accept the love he receives from us.

“Oh Reggie, don’t ever frighten me like that again.” I broke the silence first. Regulus almost looked guilty and I regretted my choice of words immediately. Regulus always found a way to blame himself, even if he wasn’t the cause of the problem.

“I’m so sorry, Dimples. Such a stupid mistake has never happened to me.” Him calling me “Dimples” melts my heart away. It makes me think of times where Sirius still lived with us and where most days there wasn’t a care in the world. Except when mother was displeased with something. Which didn’t happen as often back then, since we did everything we could to please her.

I sat beside Reggies bed and smiled sadly at him. “Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault. Still I worry about you. It’s an older sibling thing.” He smiled back and when he wanted to turn to look at me he visibly flinched. Seeing him hurt made me want to punch somebody. Since the day he was born I was protective about him. Sirius and I at only 3 years old had sworn to protect him from all the horrid things in the world. Seeing him so frail made me feel like I had failed. 

I took his hand in mine and slowly drew soothing circles. More to calm myself down than him. A few hushed words were exchanged, but I could feel my eyes fluttering shut. 

Then I drifted off. The day had worn me out and dreamland awaited me.

a/n: finishing the chapter was harder than expected, since i didn't really find a good ending to it. but i like it the way it is now. also walburga slander is always welcome. literally everytime i'm writing her im so close to just killing her off. anyhow, i hope you guys are enjoying it so far and are fine with my random updates i'll try to at least make them weekly, but we'll see how that'll go. xoxo and lots of love ellie <3

p.s: if anybody has whishes / feedback my inbox is always open!! p.p.s: make sure to check out the spotify playlist (linked above) for the story -> song recomendations are also welcome