#but like they just leave everything to one green boi and a depressed princess like hm | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alfredosauce50 · 3 years

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you could do some Romano + Prussia x royal reader (separate) headcannons? I'm a sucker for a good forbidden romance and would be happy to see what you want to do with it. Thank you!

Yes, of course! Sorry for the kinda late response--I got carried away writing other things. What a coincidence that I've been doing a lot of exploring in fantasy! The reader is referred to as she/her.

Forbidden Romance Headcanons - Prussia and S. Italy

Prussia - The earnest pickpocket and sheltered princess

Unfortunately, Gilbert is on the wrong side of history. As an albino, he's been an outcast ever since he was born. In an age of superstition and class divide, his parents had no problem abandoning an extra mouth to feed. Especially when they were a demon with magical powers. Left to fend for himself as a baby, he only ever survived thanks to the generosity of an old neighbor. When they passed away due to old age, he had to get on by himself on the streets. Stealing, lying, whatever it takes to get some quick cash. And he's been doing it ever since he was five.

He loved fairytales ever since he was a kid. His guardian always told him these stories before bedtime, after all. They said it was good luck to give the princess a flower, and he remembered this a few years later during the royal parade in town. Pushing through the crowd of onlookers, he held out a small dandelion hoping you would take it. Before the guards could swat him away, you took the flower with a smile. All you remembered from that time was a small and dirty face gleaming up at you. And, of course, a pair of striking red eyes you would never forget.

In his adolescence, he became a thief with quick hands. It wasn't until he took on the most dangerous job of all did he make himself a public enemy. Stealing the royal family's jewels. And he would've gotten away with it if he wasn't forced to take a detour through the princess's bedroom. Unbeknownst to him, you were wide awake. Immediately, you recognized him as the little boy from that day. Without thinking, you hid him in your wardrobe until the guards left. That was the start of a strange friendship forged between two people from two worlds--a dirt-poor criminal and the well-loved princess of a thriving kingdom.

He visits you from time to time by climbing up the side of the castle. When he first did it, you practically throttled him by his collar, screaming, “Do you have a death wish? They'll throw you to the lions if you get caught!”. He simply responds with, “The awesome me never gets caught! That's why I'm here, ja?” Soon, this becomes routine until you learn to trust him.

Gilbert loves gloating about his adventures as a street rat, whether it's about singlehandedly beating up gangs of bullies or outrunning the palace guards. As a sheltered person of royalty, his stories reflect experiences alien to you. But it opens your eyes to things you've never seen, and it's very fascinating.

If he's not telling grossly exaggerated anecdotes of his greatness, he'll bring in board games and cards he “borrowed” from his friends. You've never played with them before as your parents deemed them unrefined. It fills him with pride to see you enjoying yourself so much, especially when he's teaching you how to play.

You don't go out very often, so he always brings back little trinkets and souvenirs. When you found out he stole them all, you would hit him on the head and tell him off. “Where did you get these from? Stealing and giving these to the princess--do you know how stupid that sounds?” Then, you would pinch his cheek until he tears up and admits his wrongs. “I-I thought you would like them, okay? I wanted to give them to you as a present...” The next day, you would accompany him to the shops he robbed and pay the owners back.

He gets upset and embarrassed when he realizes those gifts aren't gifts at all. Not when you paid for them yourself! One of the ways he shows affection is through giving gifts, but that unfortunately clashes with not having money. So he's eager to make something out of himself, even if he has to work as a bottom feeder and face unfair treatment for what he looks like. When you find out, his boss gets one hell of a time dealing with you. After that, he uses whatever small amount he earned to buy something for you.

As he grows out of his old habits, he becomes more honest. In fact, he's so determined to prove himself that he shows up one day with a homemade board game scribbled out on a spare piece of parchment. He's nervous and twiddling his fingers, and that's when you know you have to help him get back onto his feet. He's so touched by your kindness that he shows you a secret he's been hiding forever--he can do magic. It's one of his skills that let him become so good at stealing in the past.

After some practice to touch up his abilities, you try convincing your parents to let him work in the palace as an all-rounder. With the magic dancing in his fingertips, there's nothing he can't do. He has a green thumb, good reflexes, and the horses in the stables listen to him better than the caretaker! He can't forget that you encouraged him to let go of his doubts and previous identity as a petty thief. There's nobody in the world he looks up to more.

On the night of your eighteenth birthday, he's invited to a ball to celebrate. Once again, he finds himself anxious to see you in your dress, especially when he's quite glammed up himself with his suit and hair slicked back. While you teach him how to dance, he tells you he looks ridiculous. But you think otherwise and make it explicit. That's when Gilbert realizes he's completely smitten with you. He embarks on another journey to improve himself until he thinks he deserves you.

South Italy - The plebeian pâtissier and renegade royal

War has ravaged the kingdom and eaten into the state's reserves, leaving inflation rates at an all-time high. The suffering middle and working-class take it up to their rulers in a coup d'état, killing the king and queen. And now, they're searching for the princess amidst the chaos of an ungoverned dominion. Romano couldn't be more indifferent to such a cause, only ever caring about putting food on the table. He works day and night helping out his family's bakery, making what he can to get by. However, he's forced to take a side when he finds a girl on his doorstep on the verge of starvation.

Unable to turn away someone in need, he nurses you back to health. However, he does so with spite, wondering to himself why he has to give what little he has left to a princess. When you feel better after a few days, he's eager to send you off but changes his mind as you leave. Romano can't bear to let you face certain death, or worse, knowing how bitter the townspeople are about the unpopular war. So he welcomes you back with a sharp sigh with his head turned away. “Alright, alright, you can stay. Now stop making that pathetic face, you spoilt principessa--it's depressing.”

He relays a few house rules as conditions for keeping you around. You have to help him with chores. Cooking, cleaning, sewing, everything. Considering you always had someone doing those tasks for you, you're hopeless at it. He'll swat your hand and show you how to do things right with an annoyed scowl. “No, no, no, no, no! You're doing it all wrong. This is how you do it. What do they even teach you in that palace, huh? Books? Maths? Books about maths? Well, they won't keep you alive, you know!”

Because he's so observant and strict, he's a good teacher, and soon, you get the hang of everything. Before, he had to open his mouth to correct you every few seconds, but now, he can just watch you do his work with his arms crossed. It's a little demeaning to have someone watch your every move, but inside, he's relieved you're finally fitting in and not a complete waste of his time and resources. In reality, he never wanted to send you off and hoped he could just handle an extra mouth to feed. Not that he'll ever tell you.

When you're out and about, he makes you wear a cloak to hide your identity. When he's forced to interact with people, he'll hold you close and play everything off without arousing suspicion. Even if your hood falls off, he won't react--he's screaming inside in panic, but he's a great actor when he needs to be. You're totally not the princess, just a crazy similar doppelganger. The cloak is there so that people don't make a fuss. When they leave, he'll turn to you and scream how much of an idiot you are. But really, he was just worried to death--and you have a feeling he was. So you hug it out and leave him cussing with a red face.

As you two grow closer, his cousin Antonio notices how much he cares about you despite his efforts to hide it. It's a problem. He approaches him and warns that if people found out he was hiding the princess, he would get killed with her. Romano heats up and screams, telling him that he already knew what he got into the second he let you into his home. When he's asked why he's still keeping you around, he responds with, “It's not fair that her parents fucked up, and she has to face the consequences. Just like how I never wanted to run this stupid bakery--I wanted to be a painter, not burn my hands in the kitchen all day!”

Unbeknownst to him, you overhear the conversation. The next morning, he discovers that you're gone and loses his head. While he's screaming and crying, he's swarmed with the possibilities of what happened to you. He's a bit of an overthinker, but his paranoia is deserved--were you taken away in the middle of the night? Are you even still alive? He spirals down a path of self-loathing until he confronts how much he misses you, then his regret of never being frank with his feelings. Romano didn't understand what he had until he lost it. To say this was a wake-up call--to be more honest with himself--would be an understatement.

A week later, you return unscathed. Turns out, you left to stay with the owner of a paint shop owner your family always supported and bought from. You present him with a gift of some high-end oil paints, brushes, and canvases. When he sets them all down, he'll pull you into a tight hug, and once again, tell you how stupid you are. While he has you in his coils, you smile to yourself as you pat his hair, happy that you also got something in return. Some transparency. “I just thought I'd give you something... For all the trouble.” You'd say, and he'd shush you with a few hard kisses. “You were never a trouble. I wanted you to stay, so I'm more to blame than you.”

As the political situation of the country calms down, so do the anxieties of angry neighbors pounding on his door. You return to his home much to his content. Now that you're just as good as him at icing cakes, you spend more time running the bakery. This gives him some time to paint, and he can't be happier. Once you both get settled, he discovers another hobby on top of making art. Making coffee! The bakery evolves into a café lavishly decorated with his paintings, and it becomes the most popular establishment in town. You both realize how overrated it is to want to be anything more--you never bring up your title ever again.

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siriusmydeer · 3 years

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Hey! Could you do a Regulus fluff with the prompt 17. “This reminded me of you.”

from a boy, to a man

regulus black x fem!reader

summary: regulus finds his way back to you after destroying the horcruxes.

word count: 2.0k

warnings: mentions of self harm (bleeding, scratching, scabs), insinuations of depression, mentions of anxiety, self hatred, poor mental health/not taking care of ones self, angst-fluff

a/n: amelia amelia i wanna kiss u thank u sm for helping me baby @fives-cup-of-coffee

dark stygian swirls. the infinite markings submerged in his pallid sickly flesh that had healed prolongingly into a lustre of peach. but the black branding lay delineated, every curvature, every edge lay as detailed as when it had first been cursed into his complexion.

the relevance of scrubbing his nails against the dermis until it scalded the nerve endings in his left forearm had become insignificant. the carmine scabs fading over time but the reminder of his baleful past prompting his memory.

the branding was the only thing that could make him clutch his arm in a bashful sense. yet the only talisman evoking his senses to remain his strong demeanour was the minuscule silver-plated band that lay on his thumb tightly.

jewelry. it was your familiarity.

necklaces, rings, earrings, they all somehow coordinated with you, your essence. something complimentary to you complexion, soothing important to your family as they were heirs.

when strolling the corridors you received the compliments, it was rather flattering. it was something people began to notice over some time, but you never had owned a bracelet. it was common to own bracelets such as heirlooms but you had never received such an entity until the age of eleven.

august 28th, 1971

the sun was fading into the familiar evening hues of feverish vermillion and a slow fading shade of apricot blending into the sky. the prelude to dawn at its beginning while you gaped at it intensely, the fresh pricks of grass hitting your bottom under the shell-pink dress you had been dressed in as well as the small gusts of wind looming through the air as a small reminder of where you had been rather than slipping into your mind into an abyss of daydreams.

the wind began to increase, hitting the delicacy of your skin. the little nips at your skin producing a small shiver from the curvature of your spine to the muscles in your legs. the moment was serene, like something you read about in fairytale books about a princess awaiting her prince, almost silent. until a faint boyish voice had interrupted the tranquillity.

“’ve got a gift for you.”

your body slightly sprung at the sound interrupting the deep prolonged silence. You began to crane your neck behind you, a short boy awaiting for you to glimpse at him, your eyes were met with deep aquamarine irises that swirled in the hues of virescent green and cerulean blue. a small twinkle found carved into his irises in them at your attention.

“regulus,” you muttered, viewing as the boy sat next to you with something particularly large clutched in his hand.

he held up a gold circlet with intricate detailing that had been engraved in the brass item. as well as an emerald gem placed directly in the centre. the main focus of the bracelet, if you will. your brows began to force together into a pronounced frown, your optics glancing from his digits clutched around the object to his features, his shell-pink lips fixed into a quirk as well as a small gleam of virtue flaring in his irises

“what’s this for?” you began to query, taking the rather dense manacle into your palm and staring at it for a moment. “it’s a bracelet, i know that you don’t have any so i got you one.” he retorted faintly, a small sense of pride and adoration swelling in his belly. but he wasn't of age to particularly identify those feelings yet.

“think of it as a present, before school starts.”

your face steadily began to upturn at his endeavours, a scramble of letters trying to escape the cavern of your mouth in a enliven venture to thank him for his doting thoughts about you.

the memory becomes a slow fading blear as recollects his thoughts and narrows his eyes in a sneer at his maimed reflection. the caliginous imprint taunting regulus through the obstruct mirror, his hand beginning to clutch over the mantle flesh ensuing the laceration that had been flung under the downpour of searing water minutes prior.

he recollected every detailed moment of that night, the way your eyes glimpsed at the bracelet every couple of seconds in elation. even at eleven years old in a floral shell-pink dress, in the distance you looked so angelic. he didn't know as an eleven-year-old boy and now only loathed himself for realizing so much later in life.

following his departure, he had glimpsed down at the silver ring that was clung onto his thumb that you had gifted following the bracelet, a ring he had to move around several fingers till it fit perfectly again. this incident similar to a parallel between scenarios. the small band holding himself together in a way that couldn't be understood by another.

the girl he had loved, adorned, the girl that was now a woman who had let him weep into her shoulder, the woman who made sure that he would take care of his body to keep it in a healthy state, the girl that was now a woman that would cheer for him amid his quidditch games till her throat was raw, the girl who was now a woman whom he still had loved wasn’t there to clutch onto his arm and whisper to him that everything was going to be alright.

the subconscious that laid embedded into your skull was subsequently pivoting in rapid twists till it was firmly knotted without anymore pondering to be completed. the footprint of where the boy had once been subtly faded without a trace as to where, the boy who grew into a man with mangled black tendrils that sat in entangled twists, the man with a structured jaw whilst he was old enough to spew out curse words to his mother, the boy who was now a man who you loved had vanished beneath your fingertips without a trace.

the man that was once a boy had taken a vow that potentially concluded his life and vanished for, ‘your safety,’ as he pronounced before departing from your vapid figure. the last i love you escaping from his lips as a final message in case it would be the last time you would hear it from him.

then you became alone, all fucking alone.

he huffed whilst pacing almost becoming nauseated, crackling at his knuckles due to the submerging coarse of anxiety running thickly through his blood. it was enough to swivel into the crevices of his spine and sprawl into his brain like sporadically placed letters in an intense game of pool, his mind configuring ways on how to address you after almost a year of his blatant absence.

the minuscule of a second he had after the duration of his completed mission, regulus had ventured to find almost every piece of detailed information that had been absent in his mind for the last ticking days where he hadn’t spoken to you. almost as if he hadn’t played the recurrent memory of you laughing at his foolish jokes in the slytherin common room in the deep hours of the night following a few hushed whispers, in a recurrent loop to the point where he could recall every faint characteristic that you had worn with pride.

your thumbs were absentmindedly twiddling in an abyss-like daydream, similar to the ones you had as a young girl, the collision of decrepit wood and firm knuckles splintering the perpetuating silence that had sunken depressingly into your flat. a look of puzzlement contorted onto your features, you paused and speculated as to whom was at your apartment as you weren't used to having such visitors.

opting to leisurely trudge to the door in exhaustion, the door had revealed regulus arcturus black with an ivory box clutched in his hand and a nervous grin quirked on his lips. you stopped, taken back for a moment. a revelling thought peering into your conscious mind to ultimately shut the door closed and pretend this moment, the moment that you had dreamed of till the early hours in the morning wasn’t occurring. instead, grappling at his hand and pulling him into a close-knit embrace till you could feel like hast respires in his chest along with the palpitating beats of his trembling heart against your sternum.

he sighed in relief, his hands melding into the curvature of your waist. the tension in your frame gradually disentangling from the days that had surpassed without the boy who was now a man, a man with a sallow complexion and sickly carved features stood in front of you with now a tearful grin that was almost quivering awaiting forgiveness that he was frightful he would never receive.

“what have you done to yourself, regulus?” your hands melded into the sharp curvature of his cheeks, the balmy embrace of your hands warming his figure like a camper that had created fire without months of warmth. his optics began to gape at the floor of your flat, ignoring your question with the clearness of his throat.

“nevermind me, this reminded me of you.” he clarified while bringing the box into your viewpoint. “regulus.” you pardoned him but taking a grasp on the box and setting it down on the oak-wood table with a small ‘clink.’

“what’s happened to you— why didn’t you come back for me?”

“i was scared, i didn’t want to leave you. i promise you that, i just— i didn’t want to come back and you would hate me.” regulus confessed with a stutter, a mild nervous tic he had obtained when he was young. as well as when he ventured to drag his slender fingers between his swoop of curls but found it rather difficult as they were mangled together.

you frowned disquietly. the boy that had endured your whines, and your tantrums as to when a fifth-year hufflepuff had ticked you off rather irritatingly. the boy who was now a man, whom you had loved, and he knew you had loved. continued to think that you had hated him when that had been opposite.

"I don't hate you, reg. I never have, I don't think you can hate the person i love the most." his hands fell back in place to the contour of your waistline, the palms of his hands steadily dragging themselves in a comforting motion while your fingers delicately pushed into his hair.

“your hairs a mess, reg,” you observed with a sated smile, the smallest of a chuckle escaping his lips after his mouth had almost been sewn shut by voldemort himself. the thought of regulus laughing could’ve turned heads now because of how unusual and unfamiliar the sound was. but it was the same child-like giggle he expressed on the hogwarts train several years ago.

“yeah,” he chuckled again, louder this time. he felt the small indulging swirls coming up from his eyes, the downpour of tears almost cascading down his cheeks before he brought his digits to slide them across his sockets, “brush it for me? like old times?”

he wasn’t sad anymore, he didn’t feel dejected, he didn’t feel the urge to lay in a bed that was poorly made with creased sheets and never get up again, the tears threatening his face were delightful ones. they were tears of elation, that the girl who was now a woman had remainingly loved him.

he was home, an unfamiliar concept now wrapping him in an unyielding enclasp. regulus was home.

he sat upon a bench, looking at a reflection no longer splintered with guilt, or narrowing eyes. his eyes moved in an upward motion, his irises seeing the way you languidly dragged a brush through his tuffs and a small smile quirking at your lips.

“i love you, too. i didn’t want you to think i forgot.”

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buglife · 3 years

Note

Quirrel properly introducing Ghost as his partner to survived!Monomom? :3c

(Again no beta sorry for errors!)

“Well Quirrel, I’ll admit that this is quite lovely.”

Monomon lounged on the plush chair, decadent pillows and silken throws made it unbelievably comfortable. Colors in blues and greens decorated the snug little abode, making her think of her home in Fog Canyon. Perhaps this room was chosen for that very reason, Monomon didn’t have much love for the royal whites and opulent reds decorating most of the city. She rather liked the soothing cooler colors, it made her less antsy. She reached with a tentacle to snag another biscuit from the heavily laden tea table, the array of sandwiches and sweets already mostly eaten. Her other tentacle delicately held a cup of tea which she sipped from here and there. The room was private and out of the way, perfect to catch up a little with her son.

Her son had certainly changed, but she figured it was for the better. Before she left for the long sealing sleep, Quirrel had been depressed. He know what was to become of her and despite the palatable sadness, he still bravely soldiered on with the plan. She regrets it so much now, so much time lost due to that damnable wrym, but when she surprisingly awoke again she was glad to see that the first person she saw was him. It had been a blur of years, making up for lost time and adjusting to a much more agreeable ruler. Her little pillbug had gone from a tiny little creature, munching on trash, to a stately and powerful bug. The nail he carried at his side was forged into a pure nail, one of the few in existence. His previous kerchief had been traded out with one of silk and lovely embroidered patterns. It was the only things he accepted to show his status and it suited him nicely. This time he sat before her unburdened by scroll cases and tablet boxes, just sitting like he used to before the Infection. It was good to see him smile. It was good to see such an air of confidence and strength in him, she just wished he didn’t have to go through what he did to get it.

“I know, It’s why I picked it out.” Quirrel was leaning back in his own chair, a picture of relief she could even feel as he relaxed. After all, he is now the Royal Scholar, he is a rather busy bug these days. “It’s just, nice to have a bit of comfort and quiet away from...you know…”

“The ass kissers.” Monomon finished with a wink.

Quirrel groaned and for a moment, held his eyes in his hands as he leaned forward. “They won’t leave me alone! And they are so, so stupid! They ask me things knowing they don’t want to hear the answer I give!”

“That’s what happens when you are so close to the Sovereign.” She tutted gently as she took a sip of tea. Quirrel sighed in response.

“That could have been you, ya know. If you decided to take that position.”

“You know as well as I do, my little scholar, that it was the Sovereign who chose you for it. They basically told me that I have free reign to do as I please, as long as it somehow would benefit the kingdom. I need no titles to do the job I have always done. And you know I would certainly take the position most likely to remove nobles from my sight entirely.”

Quirrel narrowed his eyes a little as he looked at his mother. “And that is because they know that nobles will start to vanish if they had to interact with you.”

“It’s not my fault my body needs acid and nobles are notoriously clumsy.” Monomon faked indignation as she sipped more of her tea. “They also like to look in places where they shouldn’t. I did put up signs, you know. But accidents do happen.”

He couldn’t help but snort, inhaling bread crumbs and having to cough them back out. “Mother!” She reached over a limb to pat him on the back.

“Don’t choke, love, or our Ruler will be without their Royal Scholar.” She teased gently.

“As if they’d let me die from something as indignant as choking to death on a sandwich.” He coughed up the last of the crumbs and took a deep breath.

“Are they that possessive now?” She questioned.

He sifted a little, and his antenna began to twitch. She could instantly tell he was blushing under his mask. He was trying so very hard to not cover his eyes and bury his head in his lap again.

“Quirrel.”

“Well...yes...but because well...you see….” He let out a held breath and sank lower in his chair. He was drawing his legs up, preparing to roll up just like he used to always too when terribly embarrassed.

“Quirrel.”

“The more time you spend with a bug and um...you know. Things happen and well...”

“Quirrel. Don’t roll up on me now.”

He made a pathetic squeak in response.

She was going to comment further, but there was a shifting of the door curtains and a regal horned head poked their way through. She was going to snap at whoever it was to get the fuck out and let her tease her boy some more, but then she noticed just who it was attempting to come in.

“Oh, hello, your Majesty.” She gave a polite nod. “You have caused my son no small amount of embarrassment, I’d like to know why.”

Ghost struggled with the curtains for a second, looking very undignified as they had to untangle their long pronged horns from the thick fabric. Once fully inside, they bowed to her and Quirrel. If there’s one thing she liked the best about Sovereign Ghost was that they showed respect to everyone, well, those that deserve it. They had also changed greatly since she saw them all that time ago. They were so wee, so adorable, and then they had to catch up on growing and stop being so cute. They still were, if she had to admit. They were distinct enough that they didn’t need anything like a crown or anything else, they just had their pure nail and a heavily fluffy mantled cloak. They were now about a head taller than Quirrel and she didn’t know if they would end up the huge size of their sibling, Hollow, or have finished growing. Size wasn’t everything, Princess Hornet was smaller but had NO problems beating those that challenged her into submission. It was amusing to watch.

Monomon watched as their head turned to Quirrel, tilting their head in a sign of worry.

“You’re...you’re late.” He squeaked, trying his damndest to unroll himself.

Ghost signed back in a flurry of hands. <”Sorry. I got caught up in something.”>

“So, you were supposed to be here to begin with? To what do I owe this pleasure? More gossip?” Monomon smiled, oh she just loved it when she could pick the ruler’s brain for gossip. Juicy, juicy gossip.

<”No, but later If you like. This was Quirrel’s idea.”>

“Oh really.” She leaned over to her still flustered son. “Why is that?”

“Because...because well...we…” He stuttered on his words. “We…”

Ghost took the initiative to kneel before her, stunning both into silence. It wasn’t just the polite kneel one takes, it was full on on the floor, pressing their head into the ground In front of her.

Monomon watched in silence as they rose up from the kneel, reaching into their cloak to withdraw a bouquet of beautiful, slightly glowing flowers. The colors rippled in the light as she took the bundle.

<”Lady Monomon.”> They signed once she took the flowers from their hands. <”I ask your permission to court your son.”>

Her eyes flickered over briefly to Quirrel, he was practically swooning. She darted them back to Ghost, their ruler, a literal god of the void, fidgeting in nervousness like a teenage schoolchild as they awaited her answer. Oh this was awesome, this was great.

“So this is what this is all about.” She exclaimed, grasping the flowers to her chest in utter glee. “No wonder why you are being bothered by the nobles, my dear...you’re fucking the sovereign!”

Quirrel gasped and nearly fell off his chair. All traces and feelings of romance were now completely squashed. “MOTHER!”

Ghost just stood there, blinking.

“Your majesty, my son is his own bug. You don’t have to ask me permission to do anything with him as long as he consents to it!”

Ghost relaxed in relief.

“BUT,” She reached a tentacle outwards to poke them directly in the middle of the head.

“If you hurt him in anyway, you will die. I’m old. I don’t care if I die and drag a god down with me, but you will go down with me, I can promise.”

“MOTHER.” Quirrel twisted, trying to get to his feet as he watched her technically assault the ruler of an entire kingdom, and then threaten them.

To Quirrel’s relief, Ghost mearly nodded.

<”I accept those terms. I would rather risk death than to be apart from Quirrel. I promise he will not want for anything and if it should come to it, I would lay down my life for his.”>

Monomon clapped her tentacles together. “Wonderful! Wonderful! Now, come sit!”

Ghost eyed Quirrel, who turn shook his head. “Sorry love, but you’re trapped now. Sit, and it’ll all be over soon.”

Ghost sighed, resigned to thier fate, as they carefully sat with Quirrel. Quirrel wrapped an arm around their carapace in support, as they both looked upon the now giddy Monomon.

“Now,” She said, glee in her voice. “Tell me everything.”

#hollow knight #fanfic #fanfiction #terra lumina canon #tiny scholar au #monomom #monomon the teacher #quirrel #ghost #ruler ghost #ghost/quirrel #monomon would box with god to protect her bby #i went with sovereign as it is gender neutral #post embrace the void ending #everyone lives/nobody dies #romance #Anonymous #terra lumina #my writing

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midnightmoonkiss · 4 years

Text

Painful Stings & Sweet Apologies

Yandere! Izuku Midoriya X Fem! Reader

Summary: Rage fueled by failure, Izuku finds comfort in a bar, only to come home to a broken promise and a furious darling. He didn’t mean for this to happen.

WARNINGS!: blood, violence, alcohol (Izuku under the influence)

Category: Angst, one-sided fluff

Word Count: 9k+

A/N: This is my first yandere fic! I’m nervous as hell, I have no idea if I got this right lol. Though I did spend months perfecting it to the best of my abilities! Hope you enjoy~

Just To Clarify:

You’re both adults

It’s Friday

It’s cold and rainy (naturally--)

Izuku’s bedroom has a walk in closet and a bathroom

the kitchen is off-limits

THIS IS A YANDERE FIC!

Izuku is an obsessive yandere~

Cold, burning liquid rushed down the male’s throat as he gulped at the drink within the short glass.

Whiskey, or more specifically - a Jack Daniels, the honey-brown alcohol that delivered a bitter slap to all those who drank its refreshing nectar.

It wasn’t his usual drink, and certainly not one he’d ever guzzle like a parched beast.

Hell, who in their right mind would do that? Even with a single sip, it left your chest burning with its heat.

But desperate times call for desperate measures, right?

Or, more of, self-loathing times call for a quick, one-way ticket to Forget-Me Ville and Cringe Island.

The bar he sat at was lively, filled with drunken laughter and slurred speeches of men and women who have been out for far too long.

But it was Friday night, so who cared?

A rainy, cold, sucky, depressing Friday night, one of which his friends tried to make a bit better by taking the pissed off, green-haired hero out for drinks.

They certainly hadn’t expected Izuku, an innocent little guy who couldn’t handle his liquor for shit, to shoot down an entire glass of whiskey.

At first, he ordered a simple beer - a starter drink if you will.

It didn’t take but ten minutes for him to gulp that glass down, and he was onto his next drink - a sangria wine cooler. His typical drink. He always was more of a fruity guy, after all, preferring the sweet tang over the bitter bite.

But as the night raged on, and so did his inner turmoil, he kept ordering stronger and stronger drinks, until he got to the whiskey. You could say he lost his sense of reason a while ago.

He was still seething with rage, not as much as before but the mixture of anger and frustration swirled hotly with the alcohol pumping through his veins and sitting in his belly.

You could say it was keeping him warm in this lifeless atmosphere.

For the first time in what felt like forever, he didn’t think of you, his precious little darling. He could barely think straight, mind occupied with too many thoughts to be able to understand any of them. It was all a garbled mess, one he chose to ignore.

Was that a good or a bad thing? He’d find out later.

But for now?

He needed another drink.

In the beginning, this Friday seemed like it was going to be one of the best he’ll ever have.

For months this pro hero has been working alongside detectives with catching a murderous villain known by the name “Ghoul.”

They were sick and twisted, their motives unknown, their trail hard to tract.

He had only one encounter with them, but he was too late to catch them.

That’s the day he was brought in to help aid the case.

But, that day haunted him for weeks. He knew that if he had arrived at the bloody scene sooner, he could have captured that cannibalistic fuck, brought justice to those who had already died by their mangy hands.. and prevented the deaths that would ensue after.

He’d known horrible villains before, but this one was different. Their teeth were sharp, blood permanently stained their clothes, and they gave off a wolfish vibe. Yes, a hunter. One who tore flesh from human bones and munched on it until someone screamed in terror for help.

For months he helped gather intel, piece puzzle pieces together, aid with location predictions and stakeout missions, until finally - they found that bastard.

It was more of a hunch than anything really, that Ghoul would show up to that site.

Ghoul, while hard to track, left a pattern in their wake. They avoided certain areas, thrived where the poor were at their weakest. The murders always seemed to happen at the exact same time behind run-down fast-food restaurants.

It was unclear if the sicko liked a hearty human meal with their victims own stomachs filled with greasy, fattening food, or if it was just convenient to them, either way - the perp was too damn sloppy.

To regular ol’ police personnel, the murders would just always happen there, behind restaurants.

But after Deku’s team began tracking where each and every murder occurred, it was quite easy to tell they were drawing, funnily enough, a circle around the city’s map.

It was stupid, childish, and downright idiotic, but damn if that didn’t lead the team to find the cold-blooded killer.

Adrenaline and pure hatred for the villain fueled Deku’s onslaught of attacks, each seemingly more powerful and less calculated. His mind was muddled.

He was filled with rage, finally being able to see the shitty excuse of a human again, but it affected his movements. He was being hasty, careless, not his usual calculated self.

And that’s what brought him his demise.

His shoulder was harshly bitten, razor-sharp teeth tearing through the fabric of his suit and shredding up the skin on his shoulder. Their quirk pumped through his blood instantly, making him collapse onto his knees, paralyzed. He hissed in pain as the sickeningly warm liquid flowed down his arm, unable to stop himself from face planting onto the dirty gravel of the alleyway.

He had lost, and Ghoul got away.

He still remembers it, after all, it was only hours ago that it happened.

The sun had long since set, the crescent moon hung high in the sky as her stars shimmered around her. His wound was stitched up and healed by doctors, leaving only a bitter scar to remind him of his failure.

He failed not only himself but those who counted on him.

God, he sucked.

And so, he ordered another drink.

He wanted to forget. He didn’t want to feel the failure sting at his fragile heart anymore.

It was too much to take.

What type of hero let the villain get away, knowing full well that they would kill again?

They couldn’t track Ghoul’s trail anymore, for the circle had been completed - and they were left with nothing with the numbing feeling of brutal loss.

Hours blurred together as his mind went hazy. His speech slurred together, dull, green eyes unfocused and mouth blabbering out nonsense to his friends that he couldn’t even really hear. It just- came out.

Soon enough, he was being dragged out of the bar by his annoyingly sober friends.

The night had gotten colder since they first entered the warm bar, rain pelted down like freezing bullets flying from a machine gun. A dirty old awning kept them dry as they stood still at the front of the bars entrance, the loud music bouncing off the walls inside echoed down the empty streets.

Heavy streams of salty rainwater poured off the edge of the awning, splattering down into a mud puddle that emptied into the sewer grate below.

Who doesnt love the musty stench of rain on asphalt?

Hell, the smell itself, combined with the strong yet savory scent of the Korean barbeque joint across the street was enough to make him nauseous. He had drank far too much, and his stomach was suffering the consequences. He should have eaten more before drinking. How foolish.

“It’s pretty late, you should head home.” Reasoned his best friend, Todoroki, puffs of condensation leaving his mouth as the warm breath met cold air, pressing a freezing hand to the back of the freckled boy's sweaty neck to jolt his drowsy, drunken self into a more alert state. Nothing but time could sober you up, but damn if that hand didn’t help slap some energy into him.

“Yeaahh, ye-yeahhh.. I gooht you Todooroe.” God, he sounded like someone high on anesthesia after being awoken from a surgery - which he definitely would be able to compare this experience to. Being a hero meant at least a few surgeries a year. Comes with the job.

Plus, this wasn’t the first time he’s been drunk.

He sure as hell hated the aftermath, but some nights it felt as if the hot burn of alcohol was the only thing that could keep him sane.

This was just one of those nights - or perhaps it was multiple nights slammed into one from just how stupidly drunk he was. The world was blurred, and Izuku doubted he could even walk straight at this point.

The half and half hero waved down a stray taxi, street water splashing up onto the sidewalk as the yellow vehicle came to a screeching halt.

“Get home safe.” Todoroki sighed out his nose at seeing his friends out-of-it state, helping the giddy and jelly-like hero into the back seat.

Izuku pouted, grabby hands clinging onto his friend's shirt in protest.

With a half-hearted chuckle, Todoroki pried himself free from his grip, handing the cab driver more than enough yen to get the drunk boy home.

He gave the taxi driver an address, and soon the car was rolling off down the street, Izukus flushed face pressed against the cold, fogging glass and staring with eyes full of tears at his friend.

Though, it seemed as if he had forgotten a promise he made to someone very important to him. Someone who he devoted his entire life to.

Someone who he risked everything for.

You.

His princess who had been locked in a small, dark room all day, wrists tightly cuffed to loose chains on the wall. The only light provided was a rusty oil lamp Izuku had gotten at a yard sale one day. The flame was dull, and left the room covered in shadows.

The tile below was as cold as it had been since the morning when Izuku had forcefully chained you there for misbehaving the night before.

You had deserved this punishment for disobeying him.

That’s what he tried to convince, anyway.

He was only trying to keep you safe! He hated punishing you, hated the way you thrashed and screamed at him in protest - that only meant he had to be rougher with you. You had broken into the most dangerous room in the apartment, afterall.

The kitchen.

There were far too many harmful objects in there!

Knives that could slice your delicate skin to shreds, forks that could jab into your body, hot stoves that could leave you with a nasty burn, and canned food stored too high up on the shelf that could fall and hit your head.. It was for your protection that the kitchen was off-limits to you!

Plus, Izuku, your oh-so kind and sweet boyfriend, had no problem with cooking you meals to eat together. In fact, he loved it!

He felt accomplished whenever you'd hum in approval at his cooking, or even turned on if that slutty mouth of yours just so happened to moan around your utensil.

Those were the nights dinner was forgotten.

But you had been foolish, entering the kitchen for a midnight snack whilst Izuku was out on patrol. Your sneaky little self thought you were clever, leaving no trace of your betrayal.

Until you were awoken hours later by a green glow, blood running cold as a pair of murderous neon eyes stared into yours.

It had to be one of the scariest sights to date.

His pupils were shrunk, green electricity buzzing around his large body. He hovered over your trembling body, a wrapper in between his two gloved fingers.

He was so close, your noses brushed together.

You swore he could see into your soul, as well as see the fear in your (E/C) eyes.

“What is this, (Y/N)?” He had asked innocently, hurt coating his words.

“I-” you wanted to make an excuse, protest, say it wasn’t yours, but every single letter died on your tongue as his face pressed closer, a sadistic smile overtaking his features.

“You didn’t.. You didn’t go into the kitchen, did you?”

His hot, minty breath blew all over your face as he spoke, and you shriveled back in fear as insanity crossed his expression in that way you were far too familiar with.

The giggles bubbled in his throat as he tried to fight logic with delusion, “It wasn’t you, right? Someone broke in, didn’t they? You wouldn’t break my trust, would you?”

His voice was cracking, fingers digging into the flesh of the bed beneath you as his eye began to twitch.

He stared down at you, curly green hair brushing against the sides of your face, waiting far too long for an answer he would never get. His bottom lip wobbled, feat tears welling up in his eyes and falling onto your pale cheeks as his body shook with anger and sadness.

He was already stressed about the following mornings mission, and to come home to his princess betraying his trust was not something he enjoyed.

And so, you were punished.

But he had promised you wouldnt be locked in there for long, he knew how you feared the dark. He had conditioned you to fear it, after all. It was his greatest accomplishment.

You were always so willing to cuddle into him when the lights were off.

A few hours turned into nearly an entire day, the only indication you had of this was past experiences, skin around your wrists rubbed raw from the metal cuffs, and the unusual sting of your ass and bare legs burning from the freezing tile beneath you.

That was the least of your worries, though.

Worst of all - the flame, which was holding you together and keeping you from crying out for help to those who might hear you in this soundproof room, which would no doubt get you a harsher punishment, was about to die out.

That flame, albeit small, was your only hope of surviving this.

Izuku was typically a very reliable person, it was strange for him to not keep his word to you. He devoted his being to you, worshipped the ground you regrettably walked upon, why would he break his own promise?

The thought of being trapped in the dark, the echo of your chains taunting your delirious mind had you close to tears. You didn’t want to be alone here anymore.

You watched in horror as the flame got smaller and smaller, tears now rolling down your cheeks as you pleaded under your breath for it to last longer.

The air vents around you provided enough oxygen for it to survive, but that damn oil..

Where was he?!

Suddenly, the door to his apartment flew open, giggles seeping through the house and teasing your ears.

Then, there was no more light.

A screech tore from your throat, a desperate call of his name as you thrashed around, tears pouring from your eyes.

You felt as if you couldnt breathe as your head whipped around the space, desperate for more air and light as your lungs seemed to scream.

You couldnt feel the cold chill of the floor anymore, body numb as adrenaline pumped through your veins.

What was in the dark?

How big was this space again?

Rather, how small was it?

What was that noise?

Did something just touch you?

There was wind, there was wind, no. A cold chill?

Oh god what was that-

Loud, clumsy footsteps made their way closer and closer to the locked metal door. You sobbed as your heard the jingle of keys, metal scraping against metal as he fumbled with inserting them into the lock.

Until finally, you were basked in the honey-dew glow of the bedroom.

You fought to control your breathing as he dropped to his knees, taking far too long for your liking to get the cuffs off.

But at least now you know why he took so god damn long.

You could smell the putrid miasma of alcohol wafting off him the moment he stepped into the darkroom, tainted with the salty effluvium of rainwater as it dripped onto your skin from his damp, messy hair.

Rage bubbled inside you as he giggled once more at your tear-stained cheeks, “D-did yoou miss mee?” He slurred, a giddy smile on his face as the stale stench of what he had been drinking all night circled around your head like a rotten wreath.

Instead of answering, like you knew you should have, you turned your head towards the door, soaking in the light you were previously deprived of. Even if it was just a mere minute.

At your silence, his smile quickly turned into a frown. Big, forestry green eyes welled up with sadness, bottom lip trembling, “(Y-Y/N)?” He couldnt help but reach out, scarred fingers wishing to wipe away those stray tears from your face.

You missed him.

That’s why you were crying, surely.

He wanted to comfort you, say that he was there now and that you could both cuddle until twinkling dawn.

You weren’t alone anymore.

He was all you needed, and he was right beside you.

He’ll always be there for you, and you’ll always be there for him.

Because you love each other.

“D-Don’t cry-”

His cold hand was smacked away, and his usually sturdy body was shoved back so that you could scramble out of the freezing closet.

You needed space.

More room to breath.

To be on flooring that didnt feel like ice cutting into your flesh.

Hell, you were sure the skin that had the unholy misfortune of touching the floor were burned red at this point from how long you had to sit there.

Not to mention your poor wrists, you couldnt even bear the sight of them being so raw. You were pretty sure they would bleed if you even touched them. Your body was screaming in pain, stomach growing for food, mouth parched from not being given water so that you wouldnt make a mess on the floor.

You were weak, shaking, and afraid.

That bastard had the gall to say not to cry, to look concerned when he knew damn well how much you absolutely despised the dark.

At first it was a childish fear, but the moment he snatched you from your regular life, that fear became a reality. There were countless nights you’d be punished by being left alone in the dark.

He didnt want to hurt you, no, and he never has, but damn if he hasnt conditioned you to be afraid.

Storms were the worst.

What was once a peaceful white noise turned into a terrifying nightmare once the moon rose in the sky.

There were times you were locked in that closet during violent storms, screaming and begging to be let out.

Sometimes you were, other times you werent as lucky.

Though it was only raining right now, each pitter-patter of the droplets against the window or balcony made hairs on your neck stand up. The sound was previously muted in the closet, but now it was hitting you like a freight train on a track that never seemed to end.

You heard him scramble to his feet as you wiped your tears away, the creak of the floorboards as he stumbled towards you.

A subtle bang made you jump, his foot no doubt hitting the chest at the end of your bed. Everso the clumsy one, even in an illuminated room.

Suddenly, he was right behind you, arms wrapping tightly around your middle as his head dropped to your shoulder, nuzzling his cheek against your neck.

Perhaps it would have been pleasant, comforting, even, if he wasnt soaked to the bone. The cold water from his dark grey, long-sleeved sweater was now seeping into your own thin clothes, freezing wet hair sending shivers down your spine and it presses against your heated, sensitive skin. Some drops even went down your back, ripping a gasp from you.

This wasnt comforting at all.

This was suffocating.

You squirmed in his grasp, desperate to get the hell away from him.

You were already pissed, and him wrapping around you and squeezing you tight like a snake to its prey was the cherry on top of your disastrous sundae.

With a grunt, you used the rest of what little strength you had left to rip yourself free from his ‘hug,’ nearly tripping on your own two feet as you rushed away from him.

He pouted at you as you shoved yourself into a corner of the room, finding comfort in being able to see all around you, no surprise attacks from behind, only what was in front of you.

Your breath was heavy as you glared at him, nostrils flaring and jaw clenching.

Truly, you had some nerve.

But it was hard to help it.

He broke a promise.

He never does that, and yet in your time of need- he wasn’t there for you.

For once.

He knew damn well you were locked up, scared shitless, expecting him to return home in a few short hours, yet here he is - looking absolutely clueless as to why you were suddenly so angry at him.

Tears streamed down his drunkenly flushed cheeks, hurt by how you shoved him away again.

All he wanted to do was snuggle you, his body exhausted yet numbed by the alcohol still burning in his tummy.

“Where..” you started, voice low, scratchy, and dripping with venom that reached deaf ears. “Where have you been!”

Just as he was about to open that mouth of his, no doubt about babble nearly incoherently - form logical excuses with evidence to back him up, say he lost track of time which you know damn well he never did, you shut him up.

You hated dealing with him when he was drunk, hell - you hated dealing with his obsessive ass most days.

But drunk? Drunk he got worse. He was clingy, more emotional, and worst of all? He didn’t have a filter.

He always managed to hide those more sinister desires under that sweet mask of his - until alcohol brought it out.

God, the smell of it made you sick to your stomach, but luckily you didn't have any food to throw up.

No thanks to him.

“What the fuck, Midoriya?!” You leered at him, noticing quickly the way his eyes darkened in that way they always did when you referred to him by his family name - the name he hated being called by you of all people.

“I’ve been trapped in that room all goddamn day! You said it’d be a few hours? What the hell happened to that! Look at the fucking time! Nine hours! Nine hours I’ve been stuck in my own personal hell! I can’t feel my fucking legs because of you!”

“I-” he attempted to start, the firm grip he had on his sanity quickly loosening with every shout you threw at him.

You cut him off, again, pent up rage now overtaking your sense of reason and fear, “What the hell happened?! You know what! I don’t even care! Not only did you,” You pointed a trembling finger at his stilled body, “break a promise! Something you swore you would never fucking do, you also had the nerve at laugh at me as I was trembling in fear!”

You looked like a mess, body shaking and bent over itself, one arm clutched around your waist as if to hold yourself together as that accusing finger stayed trained on him. Your hair was messy, frizzy, soaked with sweat and oily as hell from being denied a shower. Your clothes, thin and girly - much to your utter distaste, but to his satisfaction - now damp thanks to his carelessness.

All of this was because of him.

It always was.

Every single thing that went wrong in your life always seemed to be because of him nowadays.

You couldnt believe you let yourself fall for that misleading smile all those years ago, only to end up like this.

A mouse in a lions den.

But hell if that would stop you from squeaking your heart out till his razor-sharp claws ultimately caged you back in.

“Do you see my wrists?!” with a strangled sob, you held up both of your arms to show him the mess he already knew was his fault, “look at them! They hurt so fucking much because you left me in those disgusting handcuffs! This is all your fault!”

Your knees were wobbling so bad you swore your legs would give out at any second, but you’d be damned if you didnt hold your ground to this lunatic.

True, some days he was nice, normal, even. But days like these, or days much worse, you were reminded of just who he really was.

A monster was stretching it. He never intentionally tried to hurt you, your friends, or even your family.

No, he just stole you from your apartment in the dead of night, convinced the reason you were crying was because of the thunderstorm and not because some psycho snatched you from your window like some sort of 1970’s movie trope. That night he cradled your thrashing body to his hard chest with his strong arms, cooing at you and whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you begged to be let go. You were just scared of the storm~ He would keep you safe~ He is the number one hero, afterall~

That was all utter bullshit, straight from the beginning.

And even now he was still wrapped in the delusion that you loved him as much as he loved you.

A fated pair.

Please.

But you still held on to the pathetic hope that one day he’d snap out of it, return to the Izuku you knew from the beginning and not the person who now stood a few feet in front of you, staring with cold, emotionless eyes.

“I’m sorry.” he says impassively, face as blank as a new canvas - unreadable and dangerous in every way imaginable. It was hard not to feel as if he was just waiting to strike, already calculating his next moves like he always seemed to do. It was far easier to deal with an angry Izuku than one where you couldn’t read his already complex emotions, thoughts, anything. He was the definition of expressive, and it truly took a fuckin bullet to the back of his head for him to be like this.

So clearly, you hit a nerve.

Wonderful.

“Oh?” Despite knowing the implications of the situation you found yourself in, it was impossible not to laugh at such a pathetic fucking apology.

Knowing him, he probably was sorry, deep down inside. You knew he didn’t like seeing you hurt, especially if it was because of his doing, and yet- you pressed on.

Pent up anger was a nasty thing to deal with, especially since it’s been brewing inside you for so long.

“Are you now? You don’t fucking seem sorry! If you were really sorry, you wouldnt have done it! But look where we are! You’re such a fucking-!”

“Shut up.” he growls out borderline maliciously, stumbling slightly as he turns to walk out the door. He was clearly fed up, his strong hands clenched into threatening fists, but so were you. Even if you were undeniably frightened to confront him, you wouldn't let that stop you from pushing yourself off the wall - your safe space - and wobbling after him.

“Look at you! You can’t even walk right! How drunk are you, huh? Washing away your feelings again, are you? What about my feelings! Huh?!”

You were pushing it.

You really were.

The entire house felt it, the air chillingly still as Izuku had to grind his teeth together so as to not lash out at you.

He didn’t want to.

That was the last thing he wanted to do, but all that stress and self-hatred previously washed away was coming back up to the burning surface that cages his discretion.

Heavy breaths blew out his nostrils as he made his way to the living room, desperate for you to get the hint from his hunched over body that he wanted you to fuck off.

Yeah, he messed up, deep down he knew he did but currently his mind was far too clogged to even begin to comprehend it.

You were like an annoying mosquito, your words morphing into a persistent buzz.

He was ignoring you, and that made you livid.

He always ignored you when your problems were deemed irrelevant, or when he found you were being far too vexatious.

He always did this, always.

You were trapped in a cell with some asshole who didn't even want to listen to you.

Obviously, you had enough.

Typically you’d back off, go fume in another room or punch the wall till the skin around your knuckles tore open and dripped blood everywhere, making him snap out of whatever state he was in just to suffocate you in his toxic love.

Oh how life proved to be full of surprises.

A low growl of your own slithered passed your teeth, eyes practically burning red as if you prayed you had a quirk that could do something against him.

“You’re a selfish bastard! You fucking piss-poor excuse of a hero-!”

SLAP!

A shrill scream tore from your raw throat, the echo of skin burning against skin dizzying you as you were thrown back onto the floor.

Boiling hot tears streamed down your face as you sobbed out of pure fear, body shaking uncontrollably and you shuffled backward, desperate to get yourself as far away from him as you could currently manage.

It had all happened so fast, you didn't even have time to register it as it occurred.

One moment his hands were gripping the back of the couch with such strength you could see his knuckles turn a ghostly white, and the next, crackling, neon-green lightning surrounded his body, illuminating the dim apartment in a slimy glow. Before you even had a chance to register just what happened, he whipped his head around, his eyes, typically blown wide with sickening love and sparkling under delusional illusions, were narrowed and glowing in a way that sent shivers of immense regret down your spine. His arm whipped back with his hand, the very hand that delivered a painfully paralyzing slap.

He always spoke with his hands, and you just happened to be too close to him at that moment.

The reddended skin of your cheek burned, and you swore you could feel more than just tears streaming down it.

You were stuck shaking on the floor, imaginary bile rising in your throat, and all you could do was stare at him with wide, bloodshot and terrified eyes.

He had never laid a hand on you like that before, you didnt know what to think.

He always promised to do you no intentional harm, to never lay a finger on you with intentions of making you cry out in pain.

He had never acted so feral and out of line before.

It.. it scared you in a way you never felt before.

The gap between you grew, you really were just a mouse trembling in a lion's den.

“P-princess-” he shakily called out, voice weak and uneven, quirk diminishing into thin air like it never was there in the first place.

His own eyes were wide and filled with immense regret, tears already pouring down his flushed, freckled face.

He took one step forward, and you scrambled back, hand coming up to touch at your cheek, shock making you feel faint at the sight of blood coating your trembling fingertips.

You felt sick once again, empty stomach feeling as if it was collapsing in on itself to push even the tiniest bit of nonexistent food out.

You didnt know what to do.

Choking on your own sobs, you tried desperately to shuffle away from him, but he only came closer.

You cried out the moment he dove at you, your hands clasped together tightening against your chest as if to hold yourself together as this bear of a man wraps his arms cold, soaked arms protectively around you, his large shoulders violently shaking as he buried his snotty, tear stained face deep into your unruly tresses.

The stench of alcohol burned your nostrils, edging you on to try and push his heavy chest away. You tried, but you failed miserably, resulting in his arms pulling you even closer to his sweaty and damp body. It was disgusting.

“L-let go of me!” you wailed, your own tears stinging your eyes as your vision blurred and you could no longer tell just what you were staring blindly at, the dimness of the living-room paired with the suffocating embrace of your captor swallowing you whole.

You couldnt take it.

You could barely breathe at this point.

“p-p-ple .. plea-s-se..!” your cries intertwined with his own desperate ones as he babbled nearly incoherently on about how sorry he was, how he never meant to do something so horrible.

“I’m not a monster!” he howled out, desperate words seeping with ululation.

He was desperately trying to convince himself of that.

He wasn’t talking to you at all.

He was talking to himself.

He wasn’t a monster.

He’s not like him.

He’s not like that piece of filth.

No, he’s so much better.

He’s a good man.

No, no, he’s not a monster.

He’s your hero.

He could never purposely harm you.

No.

It was an accident.

An accident.

You’d understand.

He knew you would!

You always understood him.

You were like two peas in a pod!

You forgave him, surely.

Yes.

Yes!

You did the moment he hugged you, the moment he started comforting you.

He was a good man.

How could you not forgive him?

He loved you so, so, so much.

You knew that-

You knew he would never do such a thing.

His breathing was even, eyes wide and straining as he stared at the floor, a crooked smile on his face as he repeated the words over and over again in his twisted mind.

He never met to hurt you.

No.

He didnt.

“Plea-” you tried once more, biting your wobbling lip as he squeezed you even tighter.

“No, no, no, no, no, no..” he heaved out, hand coming up to gently pet your oily hair as if to calm you. His head shook back and forth in your hair, “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m so sorry, honey.”

There was nothing you could do.

You were stuck alone in a mouse trap, the cold, metallic bar snapped down on top of your frail neck.

There was no escape.

There never was.

His form of ‘love’ far too strong for you to even attempt to.

And so, you gave up.

Just like you always did.

There was no point in resisting him.

Sticky blood trickles down your raw cheek, dripping down onto the chilled bare skin of his neck, still cold from the damp clothes he wore, instantly catching his wondering attention.

“You.. you’re bleeding?” he whispered guiltily, already feeling a new wave of salty tears building up in the corner of his eyes.

His large left hand trailed up the skin of your neck, idly collecting the thin trail of red liquid onto his fingertips and smearing a path up to your jawline, stopping the moment your shivering form flinched.

He frowned at the red mark taking up half your beautifully innocent face, a small cut resting in the middle of it where no doubt the ring he foolishly wore as an accessory swiped.

Guilt made his stomach churn, the familiar burn of acid rising in his throat.

A deep inhale, and he swallowed it down, arm still wrapped around you, languidly rubbing your back as he stared with nothing short of pity at your wrecked state.

Your lips wobbled, holding in a reply as you force yourself to look into the vast abyss of darkness that was the hallway of your apartment instead of his orbs gleaming with concern.

Concern.

Concern for something he caused.

At least he had a heart, but you were still scared shitless and wanted nothing more than to run away. You were still fighting to regulate your breathing.

His thumb suddenly pressed against the slap mark, ripping a yelp from your throat as your head flung back to avoid any more contact. It was then that you noticed a pounding headache echoing inside your skull, yet another reason to aid in the water running down your face. Pain consumed your body, and you wanted nothing more than to escape this shell you were trapped in.

Openly chewing on his lip, both of his arms went back around you, cradling your delicate form to his chest.

Without a word, he stood up, practically forcing you to have to wrap your bare legs around his waist to keep yourself steady, something you were trained to do by him. He loved it when your legs were around his waist whenever he picked you up.

It became a regrettable second nature.

Heavy foot steps brought you back to your bedroom, and then into the bathroom connected to it.

Your fears crept up your spine at the pitch black room you were forced into, remembering how you were in a similar position just a few minutes ago.

When would this cycle end?

Ah.

It wouldnt, would it?

You were set delicately down atop the cold marble counter as if you were a fragile piece of glass, which, in many ways, you were. The tears had at least stopped, but your body continuously shook like a chihuahua, your breathing still hard to control as fumbled around mindlessly with your fingers to serve as a distraction.

He flipped the light on, momentarily blinding your sensitive gaze with its bright light.

Sniffing, you wiped at your nose, watching as he walked about the bathroom, grabbing a wash cloth just to run it under cool water. The rain was still heavily pouring just outside the wall mixed with the loud splatters of the stream against the white sink. It would have been calming had cold water not splashed up onto your bare thighs, making goosebumps prickle along your skin. Your thighs were nearly numb at this point.

After ringing most of the water out, he held it up to your cheek, staring at you.

Taking the cue, you hesitantly took the cool, wet cloth from his grasp and gingerly pressed it to the swelling skin on your face. You hiss out in pain, dry sobs wracking your body at the stinging pain and the fact that he was still far too close for you to currently handle.

The pain on your cheek paired with the numbing cold was a good distraction.

You chewed on your lip as you squeezed your eyes shut, freehand gripping tightly at the hem of your shirt as you listen to him fumble around in the cabinet hanging over to the left.

You jumped the moment you felt his larger fingers ghost over the ones holding the cloth to your cheek, cautious (E/C) eyes opening ever so slightly as you looked over at him.

You couldnt help but feel idiotic as you suddenly felt flustered at the intense gaze he was giving you, eyes now gleaming viridescent in the white light of the bathroom almost staring right into your soul.

It was like he was reading you, pulling words off your own frail pages just so he could recite them to you.

He did this often.

Keeping silent, staring for long periods of times as he tried out scenarios in his head of the words he was going to say.

It gave you chills, but yet, it made you feel like you were the center of his drifting attention.

The sun his planets revolve tirelessly around, repeating the same cycles like a record forever skipping on repeat.

In these moments, though, he became an enigma.

Not exactly something your fragile state of mind entirely needed right now.

You shivered when his palm came to cup your soft jawline, thumb absentmindedly tracing over your parted lips.

His mouth opened, ready to say something, but he stayed quiet.

Mouth shutting, he leaned forward, tentatively bringing you into another hug.

“I’m sorry.” he repeated, the words nearly as quiet as your stilled breath, but you had nothing to say to it. And he knew it.

He was used to you staying silent.

He would prefer it most of the time.

So he could sink into his fantasies, the deluded fantasies that you loved him wholeheartedly, that you chose to stay silent as to not hurt his feelings, and always forgave him no matter what.

That you would forever and always be his.

He wouldnt give you the choice not to be.

He wouldnt let you leave when you’re his favorite person in the whole wide world.

The only one he needed.

And he was the only one you needed.

Yes.

Of course.

You didn’t need anyone else but him.

And he didn’t need anyone else but you.

So what if a few more people died because of his mistake, he would capture Ghoul eventually. Regardless, he would always come home to you.

Always.

And that’s all he needed.

He chucked against your neck, having buried it in the crook as his mind slipped through his shaky fingertips.

The Big Bad Wolf and his Little Red Riding Hood.

God how he loved the comparison.

Perhaps he was addicted.

Addicted to you.

Even now, as he inhaled your sugary sweet, natural scent stained with the metallic smell of dried blood.

Pulling back, he gazed into your hesitant eyes, delicately resting his forehead against yours.

His hair, now dry and no longer dripping with salty rain, tickled your skin, making you involuntarily take in a deep breath.

Closing his eyes once more, he soaks in the moment of your warm body in his frigid embrace, nothing else mattered to him.

Just you.

Only you.

“L-let me see your cheek,” he asks softly, words not as wobbly as before, afraid that if he spoke too loudly in such a thin atmosphere, everything would shatter abruptly like glass.

Your body moved on instinct as if you were used to doing as he asked immediately no matter what, pulling the cool cloth away from your burning cheek.

Resisting the urge to sniffle and flinch away, you allow him to rewet the cloth, holding still as he dabs lightly at the small wound.

“I know it hurts,” he breathes out, “shh, shh, it’s okay.” it was always so strange how his voice still managed to calm your nerves even after all you’ve been through.

Deep down, you knew he was still that loving and energetic boy you met back at that coffee shop.

If only you knew how sinister and twisted he could really be.

Perhaps.. perhaps you wouldn’t be in such a situation now.

But there was never any point in pondering the what-ifs.

All you could do was fight your mind from seeking normalities in such a relationship as this, if you could even call it that.

You wouldn’t succumb to his desires like you always did.

You wouldnt lose yourself.

No.

You couldn’t let that happen.

Or was it too late already?

You hissed when you felt the stinging seer of rubbing alcohol dotted onto your cut, cleaning the wound.

“It’s okay.” he repeats, cooing to you with a reassuring smile that should have made you feel sick all over again.

You let him apply antibiotic ointment and a small cheek bandage, his hands shaky yet careful. You could say he has experience in applying bandages.

It was uncomfortable as it sat on your raw skin, but it’s not like you were going to go and rip it off. That would feel like ripping off a wax strip on a sunburn.

Humming, he gingerly wipes away the dried blood on your neck with the same washcloth, not minding how blood-stained the innocently white fabric became.

Next came your still aching wrists. There wasn’t much he could do for your legs, but at least he had roll-on bandages on standby.

Turning the cold tap on, he lets you run them under cool water before gently dabbing the stray droplets away, careful not to press too hard.

He really needed to invest in softer handcuffs, it’s just- those were the only ones he had, and he didn’t use them often. Besides, it never got this bad before. But that wasn’t a good excuse.

He’d have to order some online tomorrow..

Applying more ointment around the area, the kind that offers instant relief, he wraps your smaller wrists up as best he could, cringing himself whenever you’d flinch.

He’d make it up to you.. Pancakes in the morning, perhaps?

Izuku then begins to sluggishly put away everything he brought out of the cabinet, tossing what needed to be tossed into the trashcan.

He was slow, almost as if he was trying to keep his balance, which he no doubt was.

Standing in front of you once again, he wrapped his arms around you, whispering “up” in your ear.

It was something he would always say when he wanted you to wrap your arms and legs around him so he could carry you like a baby.

But who were you to refuse?

It wasn’t as if he couldnt pick you up without your limbs wrapped around him, it was more for your comfort rather than his convenience.

So, tentatively, you wrapped your still shaking arms around his neck, doing the same with your legs around his bent waist.

“Good girl.” he praised as he began walking back into the bedroom, stopping just at your side of the bed to place you down at the edge.

Numbly, you let him remove your rain-soaked clothes from all the hugging, sitting on the bed in just your panties as you watched him toss the clothes in the hamper by the door

It wasn’t the first time he insisted on treating you like a child who needed help changing, but at least you didn’t have to walk.

It was hard to remember if it was a good or a bad thing that you didn’t care about being nude in front of him anymore, not even bothering to hide your chest as he came back over with a fresh set of clothes - the strawberry patterned pajamas he always seemed to adore you wearing.

You always looked so innocent in them. The shirt is far too large for your frame, the sleeves hanging off your hands and the large v-neck exposing your collar bones and parts of your shoulders. The bottoms were the regular run of the mill pajama pants, soft as cotton and comfy as hell.

The top truly was the part of the look that tied it all together.

He couldn’t help but smile as your arms immediately raised as he pulled the shirt out of the pile, making quick work of slipping it over your cute head and helping your arms into the sleeves.

He liked to take care of you.

You needed him to, after all.

You were his innocent, helpless little darling, after all.

Pulling your pants up, he guided your body down into a resting position, dragging the thick, grey, and black patterned comforter over your stilled body.

Such a good girl.

He tucks loose strands of messy (H/C) hair that fell across your face behind your ear, being mindful of the wound.

He stares at it for a moment, his expression holding that of worry and regret.

Pushing off the bed, he stumbles his way to the kitchen in the dark, having turned off the light as he went, the layout of the apartment burned to memory so he could easily avoid furniture.

In the kitchen, he opened the freezer and grabbed an ice pack, one he would commonly use on his own sore muscles and bruises. It hurt his heart knowing he was the reason you had to use it for the first time.

After wrapping it in some paper towels, he trudges his way back into the dark bedroom, eyes wracking over your balled up form, covers bunched over you like a shell.

“Put this on your cheek..” he whispered, placing the pack just in front of your face.

He would love to be the one to hold it to your cheek, but his mind was still hazy, and his words were still slurred. Events could sure as hell sober you up a bit, but damn did that nausea always come back crashing in through the brittle window full force when you’d least expect it.

Rummaging through the drawers once more, he picked up some of his own fresh clothes and made his way into the bathroom again.

All he wants is to sleep, but he also didnt want you to smell dried sweat and rain on his being throughout the night.

He knew you missed him, him and his warmth, you always did, right? No question about it. You must be longing for him even now.

Wanting him to hold and comfort you just like always.

Numbed adrenaline pumped in his veins as he stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash away his filth and regrets.

God, it felt so good to be able to somewhere warm for once.

The entire night he’s felt nothing but cold.

Not even the fire in his belly or the breath stolen from his lungs could’ve warmed him up.

He was mad at himself. Mad that he lost control and hurt the one thing that mattered the most to him.

Mad that he let himself get disgustingly drunk.

Mad that he walked in the rain like a dumbass just to soak your clothes and make you feel as cold as him.

But at the moment, too many thoughts were flying in his mind for him to properly think, no, he couldnt really even say he was thinking at all.

He was just letting the water splatter on the back of his neck, forehead resting on the cold shower tiles and he watched as water swirled down the drain like a whirlpool. His hair stuck to his cheeks like glue, but he couldn’t find himself caring.

Absentmindedly, his fingers brush across the fresh scar on his broad shoulder.

He swore the longer he stood there, watching the clear flow of water, the looser his grip on himself became.

He couldnt really say he felt anything at all anymore.

When did he lose himself?

Was he ever even really found?

Ah.

With you.

You were the missing piece in his complicated and skull biting puzzle, the one who made him whole and lit up his dull life. You were the reason he felt things anymore, you were the reason he still managed to get up and save people with a clear conscious.

You always had such a positive impact on his life, and he knew he had just as good a one on yours.

A wobbly smile tore his flushed face in two, you both really did need eachother.

He was so happy to have you in his life.

Knowing you’d never leave him.

Turning the boiling hot water off, he stepped out, the plushness of the bath-mat embracing his wet feet as water continued to pour down his nude body.

It felt, it felt so hot suddenly.

His breath came out in exaggerated pants, hands sweeping his hair from his face as the burn of bile rose in his throat.

Lunging for the toilet, he emptied his stomach into the glistening white bowl.

Gasping for air, Izuku whipped his mouth on the back of his hand, still trying to catch his breath as he fumbled to flush.

God, he needed to sit down.

Shakily turning the bathroom faucet on, he washed his hand, making quick work of brushing his teeth before lazily drying himself off.

Ignoring the other clothes he brought in, the toned hero simply pulled on a pair of black boxers before walking out of the bathroom.

Green eyes immediately looked at your form, just to see the soft rise and fall of your chest as you soundly slept, the ice pack sitting comfortably on your cheek.

You looked so adorable.

You always did.

Smiling once more, he walked over to the bed, pulling back the sheets just to slide his larger, warm body in and next to your own.

He sighs blissfully the moment he tugs you into his embrace, relishing in the feeling of your soft body against him.

Removing the icepack from your cheek, not wanting you to awake to a cheek burning from the cold, he places it on the nightstand before snuggling closer to you.

You always fit so perfectly in his big arms.

You were meant to be by his side.

And you loved it, didn’t you?

Eventually, he fell asleep, soft snores echoing around the quiet room filled with the downpour of rain still pouring down outside the large glass windows,

But you were still wide awake.

It was hard to remember the last time you got a good night’s rest, especially when the room was spine-chillingly dark..

Hard to remember what life was like before you even met your own personal nightmare.

You were used to the exhaustion, the dark circles kissing at the skin under your eyes becoming normal the day you were brought here.

Oh, how foolish you were.

You should have locked your window that fateful night.

But heroes are quite stealthy, aren’t they?

Was this even reality at this point? Or all just a figment of your imagination, protecting you from the true horrors before your very eyes.

Either answer wasnt one you wanted.

But you never had a choice.

Tears slipping from your eyes like they always seemed to do, you stared longingly off into the distance, the warmth pressed against your back pulling you further into your own bubbling madness.

All it took was a signal thought for this to all become normal.

For the pain to wash away with your tears.

‘Maybe this is ok.’

743 notes · View notes

writingformymentalhealth · 3 years

Text

Chapter 5

The Black Brothers

Josephine Fawley or as her brother liked to call her the tomboy Princess had a striking romance with Hogwarts very own Pureblood rebel Sirius Black.

Sadly her parents deemed his Brother the so called Slytherin Prince as a better fit and arranged a marriage with the younger Black.

Tw: Arranged marriage, possible smut, swear words, lots of fluff, angst, mentions of abuse and depression,

Part 1

Wattpad link

Masterlist

The Newts went by in the blink of an eye and before any of them knew they were back at the platform 9 3/4.

“I will miss you so bad,” Isa said and Joey’s insides felt warm. Isa wasn’t one for sentimentalities usually and having her openly talk about missing her made her happier than she would ever admit.

“I’ll miss you too, Isa.” She said, pulling the girl in a quick hug.

“Hey Isa, don’t steal away my girl,” Sirius’ voice said from behind, earning him a playful shove from Joey.

Isa waved a last time before going to look for her parents, leaving the couple to bid their goodbyes.

“Farewell Princess.”

“We’ll see each other at the next boring pureblood ball.”

“I’ll still miss you like crazy.” His hand cupped her cheek, making a blush creep up on her. How could he make her feel this way, even after all these years?

And then kissed her. He kissed her like it was the last kiss they ever shared.

After pulling back, both teens were slightly panting.

“I’ll miss you too, Black”

“Write to me, love.”

“Every day.”

And with a last playful wink the boy disappeared between the people, going to find his parents - or hiding from them.

Just seconds later, Quentin appeared next to the girl.

“Let’s go, mum and dad will be waiting.” He said, nudging her.

It only took the twins minutes to find their parents chatting with the Malfoys, and even though Quentin’s expression remained rather neutral, Joey could practically feel her brother’s blood boil at the sight of Lucius.

Their Mother was the first one to see the twins hugging them both and mumbling something about having missed them. Their father just nodded at the scene, bidding his goodbyes to the Malfoys.

“We have something to tell you when we come home.” Cordelia whispered to her children before grabbing Joey’s hand.

Joey and Quentin exchanged a look.

With a plop the family landed back at the Fawley residence and Joey inhaled the familiar scent of Lavender and Moth balls that always seemed to linger in the old house and didn’t pay much attention to her mother asking for a teatime with the family to discuss ‘important matters’. At least until Quentin took her hand, and she felt just how clammy and sweaty his hand was.

“It will be alright Quen.”

He shook his head. And Joey prayed they weren’t going to tell her that his depression got worse.

With a weird feeling in her stomach, she made her way to the sitting corner in which the Fawley family always drunk their tea, carefully pulling Quentin behind, who seemed almost frozen into place.

Their parents sat opposite to them, both seeming suspiciously smiley.

“What’s up?” Joey asked, not able to take the tension anymore.

Her mother inhaled sharply before letting her catlike green eyes meet her daughters. “We arranged a marriage for you, Josephine.”

“You what?” The siblings asked simultaneously.

“We arranged for you to marry a respectable pure blood gentleman.” Her father explained, not looking his children in the eyes.

“Absolutely not.”

Her mother pursed her lips. “I fear you don’t have a choice, Darling.”

“You were always against that bullshit,” her brother spat, his voice being louder than ever.

“Things change, circumstances change.” Their father said, just earning a scoff from his son.

“It is the best for all of us.”

“Not for me.”

Her mother looked at her sadly, “You don’t have a choice.”

“Oh hell, yes I do.” Joey screamed, standing up, running into her room, still faintly hearing her brother argue with her parents.

In her room she pulled out her trunk, chaotically throwing clothes, pictures and other prized possessions in it. She didn’t know where she was going to go, but she knew she needed to go. Hot tears streamed down her face, she always thought her parents were different, sure most pure blood families had some weird beliefs about keeping their blood pure therefore arranged marriage looked like the best thing to do, but her parents always seemed to accept that their children would go their own way.

A faint knock on the door alerted the girl of her mother’s presence.

“Can I come in?”

“In your words, I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“We made a deal with the family years ago,” her mother sighed suddenly looking decades older, “we promised them you would marry their son in exchange for safety from the dark Lord.”

“What has Voldemort to do with all this?” her Mother flinched by the mention of his name.

“The family is very close to him. They inform him about blood traitors, eventual followers and all that.”

“So I don’t have a choice?”

“Not if you want your loved ones to live.” Her Mother said simply giving her daughter a reassuring squeeze before going out of the room leaving Joey at a complete loss.

After the initial shock, there was only one thing on her mind: Sirius.

She fidgeted with the silver ring on her left hand, knowing that she always wanted to marry him, spend her life with the boy she loved above everything else, and now she would have to face a relationship like Narcissa had with Lucius.

The lump in her throat grew bigger and bigger, and she barely noticed the tears streaming down her face mercilessly.

Perhaps the worst heartbreak isn’t getting broken up with, perhaps the worst heartbreak is knowing you have to break up with someone who you still love with every fiber of your body.

Two days had gone by, but Joey didn’t even seem to notice. Everything went on in a blur and no words from Isabella, who she wrote to immediately nor her brother, could pull her out of her misery.

“You know you need to break up with him, don’t you?” Her brother just asked, while soothingly drawing circles on her back.

“Isabella said I should break his heart really bad to make it easier for him,” Joey scoffed, tears still rolling down her cheeks.

“That’s a terrible idea, even for Isabella.”

“You just say that because you hate her. She said, I should just tell him I am in love with someone else.”

“Josephine, don’t do it, please. People will know about the arranged marriage just like they know about Lucius and Narcissa.”

“I could still love him though.”

“Sirius isn’t stupid - not that stupid at least.”

“If I tell him the truth he would try to fight the bloke in some deathly duel or something,” she laughed humorlessly, “he’d do anything for me.”

“You don’t need to tell him a reason to break up with him.”

“Don’t you think I owe him one?”

Her brother stayed silent, engulfing her in a hug, while her tears left a wet patch on his shirt. Quentin knew better than to argue with his sister. She already made up her mind.

Joey had asked Sirius to meet her at the park bench he once gave her the promise ring at. Her face was stoic, almost unreadable. She knew she couldn’t show weakness in front of him. She couldn’t make him question her decision. She needed to be confident and cold.

She already saw him from afar, his long hair hanging in his eyes while he comfortably sat in the grass even though a perfectly intact bench was right next to him.

As soon as the boy saw her his eyes lit up and he stood up to hug her, but she took a step back making his eyebrows snap together in confusion.

“We need to talk.” She said instead of a greeting slowly making her way to the bench.

“What’s wrong, love?”

She forced herself to look into his concerned eyes that were so full of love for her and she knew Isabella was right. She would have to break him so he could let her go.

“I am breaking up with you.”

Sirius’ eyes widened in disbelief, his hands fidgeting with each other like they always did when he got overwhelmed, and Joey had to resist the urge to hold them.

“Why? Joey we can fix this I-“

“I made my decision.”

He swallowed hard, and she saw tears starting to pool in his eyes.

“Why?” He asked again, his voice cracking.

“I found somebody else.” She said simply, not daring to look into the stormy grey eyes she was still very much in love with, “and I am in love with him.”

“I love you.” Sirius said, his voice barely above a whisper and it took everything in Joey not to say it back.

“I should go.” She said, not waiting for an answer before standing up and taking fast steps towards the point she knew she could Apparate away in safety. A small part of her hoped he would run after her, tell her he saw through her act, tell her he knew how to get out of it but he didn’t so she let the tears that she was holding in since the moment she saw him sitting next to the bench fall but to her surprise she didn’t feel the hurt anymore. Instead, her heart felt cold, as if it was made of ice or as if someone had just burst through her rib cage and taken it out, leaving only an empty space.

Sirius Black felt like he was having a heart attack, and for a short second he thought about admitting himself into St mangos hospital but he came to the conclusion that maybe having a heart attack right now wouldn’t be too bad because the one person he trusted and treasured over anyone else made his worst fears come true. He knew he was always jealous, but that was just because he knew deep inside that a guy like him could never keep a girl like her. That a girl like Josephine didn’t settle for family disappointments with lots of baggage, but he still tried and for a brief moment he thought he could be happy. Now he knew that some people just aren’t meant to be happy.

For the first time since the couple started dating, Sirius lit up a cigarette, inhaling the deathly smoke deeply, hoping that it would kill the sadness in him.

Sirius Black’s world became dull that day.

Unbeknownst to both they had the same essential question running through their head, ‘who is this other guy’ but while Sirius would have to wait some time till his question got answered, Joey had the option to confront her parents.

Of course she could have done this earlier, but she had to admit she was scared of the answer. She knew most pureblood families and couldn’t say she particularly liked them. Additionally a family that was close to the Dark Lord was bound to be involved in the dark arts and at least to some extent evil.

She shuddered at that thought; she heard all the stories about arranged marriages - the regular rape, the abuse and the fear and she wasn’t keen on joining that club. So when she saw her Mother that day ready to confront her - she couldn’t.

She couldn’t bring herself to ask.

Actually, she couldn’t bring herself to do anything besides lay in bed and sleep, she didn’t even have it in her to cry anymore. Even after her Mother informed her she was going to meet her future husband for dinner, she didn’t have it in herself to react.

In the end it was her brother who brought back the girl’s spirits on the day of the dinner.

“Oh no, you are not meeting your future husband looking like that.”

“Why? He has to marry me, anyway.” Joey said, rolling over.

“Go shower. Now. You smell, and if you don’t shower, I will conjure a bucket of ice water and shower you myself.” He said while rummaging through her closet.

Joey frowned, not being used to her brother being so authoritarian, but she did as he said, too tired to argue with him.

Even though she would never admit it, the shower did make her feel better, and the dress her brother chose made her feel like a real life princess.

“You have to do your clown paint on your own, I have no idea what that stuff is.” He said gesturing to her makeup and for the first time in eleven days Joey chuckled.

She was just doing her eye makeup as her mother came in, a sad smile decorating her face. “You never asked who.”

“Does it matter?” Joey asked, applying mascara.

“It’s Regulus Black.”

Joey almost poked her eye out as she heard that. Her heart hammered desperately against her chest.

“Why not Sirius?” Quentin asked the question Joey wanted to ask so desperately. “Isn’t he the oldest?”

Her mother made a sound with her mouth, “We discussed this matter but Sirius and his family have a complicated relationship, they want regulus to make the proud.”

And Joey felt like her heart broke all over again. She was so close to getting what she wanted, yet destiny had ripped it away from her again. If this was a story, the Author had to be downright cruel to put her through this.

At the Black Mansion Sirius - for the first time in his life felt completely and utterly broken. Hot tears ran down his face, and he couldn’t contain the sobs coming out of his mouth.

He almost didn’t notice his Mother coming in hitting him with the stupid Black family ring she was so proud of turning it outward so it would leave deep cuts on his cheeks.

“Crying is something for muggles and weaklings. Not for Blacks.” She screeched, but he didn’t care, he never cared for anything his parents wanted or said, he only cared for her and his friends and maybe Regulus even though his loyalty to their parents could be infuriating sometimes.

“We have guests this evening. If you aren’t on your best behavior, I will crucio you right in front of them.” His mother sneered, and Sirius knew from experience that she meant what she said.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” His Mother grabbed her wand and Sirius bit his lip till it started bleeding.

“Yes, ma’am.” he grumbled quietly, just hoping that she would disappear soon so he could be sad in peace.

Walburga strutted out of the room, locking the door behind her, making Sirius sigh.

He looked around his room trying to ground himself, the red gryffindor flags, the muggle band posters from bands he didn’t know just to spite his mother, the pictures of the Marauders and of course the pictures of Joey that he didn’t yet have the heart to take down, her smile illuminating the whole room even through a picture. Tears filled his eyes again, yet he didn’t dare to cry. Instead, he got out his wand, muttering some spells to heal the wounds.

A few hours later Sirius was well aware of how horrible he looked, skin pale, deep rings under the eyes and his usually shiny hair hanging matted over his eyes, this look being further enhanced while standing next to his brother who looked more and more like Sirius every day, sharing his aristocratic features. But other than Sirius;, Regulus looked amazing, his tie in place, his hair combed and his shoes cleaned.

Sirius saw the disgusted face his mother gave him before gushing about Regulus and he couldn’t help but feel accomplished at his disheveled appearance that hopefully would disgust any weird poor blood family her mother invited for today.

“Adrian, Cordelia! How nice to see you.” Walburga greeted, making Sirius’ blood run cold at the mention of Joey’s parents’ names; and really just behind the two middle-aged wizards and next to Quentin, the girl of his dreams, stood. Her usually wavy hair was curled and neatly pinned up, leaving just a few strands to frame her beautiful face.

Sirius stood there frozen as the other people greeted each other. Joey stiffly shook his hand. Her eyes looking cold and disinterested, just like the first time Sirius saw her at the pureblood ball.

Joey, on the other hand, felt immensely grateful for her brother standing beside her, as she didn’t know where she should look. She was scared to look in Regulus eyes seeing the familiar cold and steely gaze of her future husband and even though she wanted to, she knew looking in Sirius’ eyes would just open up a Pandora’s box of feelings.

The dinner went over like a blur, Walburga asking lots of questions that were being answered politely, mostly by Cordelia.

As dessert came - crème brûlée, finally the point of the entire dinner was made clear.

“Josephine, Regulus, as you both know we arranged a marriage between you two, binding two of the most pureblood families together by law.” Orion said, his voice cold and calculated just like Regulus’ voice was. Sirius started coughing uncontrollably, choking on the water he just tried to drink, earning himself dirty looks from the pureblood parents, Orion especially looking at Sirius like Walburga looked at discounter clothes. “Don’t mind my son, he doesn’t take news like a gentleman, another reason why we chose regulus over him.”

Joey looked up from her plate - the first time this evening and her mask broke for a short second and Sirius saw how deeply horrified she looked before she went back to smiling politely with the same cold disinterested eyes every pureblood kid learned to have at a young age.

“We expect you to be a pleasant couple till you marry, no drama or other nonsense.” Orion continued.

“Josephine, darling, I suspect your parents already informed you about the risks of acting out?” Walburga asked, and Joey’s stomach turned at her sickly sweet voice. Her eyes automatically found Sirius’ for comfort, but his eyes were clouded with shock and something Joey could only interpret as realization.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Very well, how about you two go up to Regulus’ room to get to know each other better, while we discuss the details of the engagement party?”

Regulus nodded wordlessly, taking his future fiancée’s hand leading her up the stairs so familiar of the noble house of black, into his room.

It was the first time that Joey saw a room except the ball room and Sirius’ room and she was impressed at how unimpressive the room looked. The walls were empty except a Slytherin flag over his bed; the room was almost hauntingly neat, and she didn’t see even one personal item.

“I apologize for all of this.” Regulus said, looking at the stoic girl in front of him.

“No need to apologize.” She whispered, her voice sounding hoarse as she took in the room, looking anywhere but into the boys’ eyes.

“I’m sure no girl wants to have that kind of proposal.”

She chuckled at the absurdity of his words, sitting down on his bed, surprised at the softness of the mattress, yet shuddering at the thought of her having to have sex with him on that mattress - or anywhere, for that matter.

“We are practically engaged and you don’t even know my favorite color.” She said, looking into his eyes for the first time this evening.

There was a deep breath, and then Regulus sat beside her.

“Josephine-“

“Why are you marrying me?”

He looked shocked at the question and Joey wished she could take the words back, knowing that she crossed a line and being basically the property of Regulus now, she should maybe at least try to keep the comments to herself.

“Josephine, it’s what our parents want from us.”

“Nobody calls me Josephine, except my parents.” Joey whispered, her voice restrained from the fear pulsing through her body.

“I know, but I didn’t know if you wanted me to call you that.”

Joey looked into his steely eyes, and they looked surprisingly soft and understanding. And a small glimmer of hope tugged at her heartstrings.

“Why do you care what I want? Am I now not your property?” The words came out harder than she intended, and Regulus flinched slightly.

“I’m not a monster.”

Joey stayed silent.

She was glad, as Walburga called them downstairs, looking at them as if she just won the lottery.

“Splendid news, we will hold the engagement party in one week.”, Joey forced a smile but by the falling face of Walburga she could already tell that it came out more like a grimace, “and the even better news is that you will spend all summer with us so you and Regulus can bond and have some appearances as a couple before you marry.”

Joey’s stomach turned. Spending all summer with the guy they forced her to marry, her ex boyfriend who still gave her butterflies and their psychopathic parents sounded like a nightmare.

“We will have a guest room ready.” Orion added coldly, and from the corner of her eye she saw Sirius exhaling in something that looked like relief.

“Oh no, we aren’t in the eighties anymore. She can sleep in Regulus room, they can practice for their wedding night.” Walburga grinned wolfishly, and Joey felt so sick she was sure she would throw up all over the carpet.

Masterlist

Part 6

Let me know if you want to be on the taglist for this story :)

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spectacularlyignorantt · 3 years

Text

From the dining table

March 2017

Louis sat in the kitchen looking around, dust covering every possible surface. Princess Park, their first home, the place they bought together without telling anyone and then never sold after the breakup. Maybe because they couldn't see each other and not end up in bed, regretting it in the morning. Maybe because they both knew this time apart meant nothing. They were destined to be together, a love no one could understand, right?

The last time he saw Harry was after the presentation of his single Just Hold On on the X-Factor, but they had not been a proper couple for around a year. If you didn’t count the sex, of course. Louis didn’t. Sex didn’t mean much, not when he knew what it felt like to be in a relationship with Harry Styles for 5 years. They would have stopped seeing each other when the band started the hiatus if it wasn’t for his mom's health getting worse. Harry stood next to him all those months, giving him comfort, keeping her company when Louis was too tired to stay awake. Harry was part of his family, after all. And Louis knew Anne, Gems and Robin felt the same way about him.

The reason for their break up was a mystery for everyone, a question never answered. They belonged together, no one could say the opposite after expending time with the couple for 10 minutes. Either you were blind or disgusted by their love, in a cute way.

Louis knew, of course. It was a decision, more than anything. They felt like the only thing holding them together was the band and decided to take a break to figure out if there was more than that. So they never sold their first home because there was no chance they weren't going back together.

Lately, Louis wasn’t so sure about that. To be honest, he wasn't sure about anything. The sky was pouring like it should be, for mood purposes. The lump in his throat made breathing hard, the weight in his chest holding him down in the chair. He closed his eyes, he wasn’t going to cry. The promise he made to his mother was still clear in his mind and it was killing him. Because lately, it felt like Harry had forgotten about them. With his solo music, the movie, all that pr girlfriends Louis knew he hated. All that glamour, all those lights. Why would he be thinking about Louis? Maybe they were right, maybe it wasn’t destiny but circumstance.

Things got worse recently, after Niall went to his flat a couple of days before, wearing that big old tee and Louis told him he smelled like Harry. He wasn’t jealous, not really. It was Niall, for god’s sake. But Niall was around his baby a lot, they had a close friendship not many knew about. Something about the unusual sadness in Niall's eyes told him much more than the calls Haz never answered. Harry didn’t want him anymore. They were done.

The pressure in his head felt compressive like the one in his heart. All those shots, pints and pot weren’t a good combination. Neither was that boy with curls but the wrong shade of green when he woke up that morning in a hotel room, unable to remember much about the night before. But what else could he do? How could he go to Harry right now and tell him he was sorry for his insecurities? For ruining everything without a good reason? How could he tell him he was sorry? Liam and Oli said he needed to give it time, but everyday felt a little bit more far away from home. So he came back.

There was a notepad where they used to write the grocery list sitting on the counter, next to the fridge. He took it and the pen on the table, the dim light coming from the closed window. He didn't know what to do, how to get out of this pain, this love. How to be himself again.

So Louis did the only thing he felt like he could do right: he wrote a song. It was more of a letter, really. But it was shaped like a song, that was his strong suit after all. And Harry loved to see him write, once upon a time. Used to dance with him in that kitchen, used to make him pancakes in the morning. They used to talk and fuck and chat for hours between those walls.

To Harry:

Woke up alone in this hotel room

Played with myself, where were you?

Fell back to sleep, I got drunk by noon

I've never felt less cool

We haven't spoke since you went away

Comfortable silence is so overrated, Harry

Why won't you ever be the first one to break?

Even my phone misses your call, by the way

I saw Niall the other day

He said you feel just fine

I see you gave him my old t-shirt

More of what was once mine

I see it's written, it's all over his face

Comfortable silence is so overrated

Why won't you ever say what you want to say?

Even my phone misses your call,

And by the way

Maybe one day you'll call me and tell me that you're sorry too

But you, you never do

Woke up this boy who looked just like you

I almost said your name

We haven't spoke since you went away

Comfortable silence is so overrated

Why won't you ever say what you want to say?

Even my phone misses your call

By the way…

He stopped there, unable to continue. His hand was shaking, the tears were smushing the ink on the paper. What a fucking cliche, crying after promising himself he wasn’t going to do it. Nothing could hurt as much as losing his mum, nothing could compare. So why was he crying? Why couldn’t he just fucking stop?

Louis got up from the chair and walked away from the dining table, leaving the notepad there. He knew deep in his broken heart that the next time he came back it was going to be there. Left and forgotten, just like that house and those memories. Louis left it there next to his allowance to feel sorry for himself. He needed to grow up, get away from those parties and false people. He was going to get his shit together, write away his feelings and find his sound.

And if Harry didn’t want him in his life, then there was nothing left to do, right?

May 2017

The recording of Back to you was finally over and now they need it to work in the music video and he wanted to film it on Doncaster. It felt right to go back to his ‘home’, if he couldn't go back home, you know what I mean? It went well with the theme.

Louis was driving back from the studio to his flat when a notification popped out in this phone: Harry’s album was out and apparently, people thought a couple of songs were about him. Louis wasn't going to be surprised if they were, both wrote about each other a lot along the way. And the fans loved to link things, made up theories about the Larry situation. Something he wished he could out and say ‘yes it was true but it's over now, please stop tagging me, it hurts’. It didn’t. not as much anymore.

Or that’s what he thought until he heard track 4, Two Ghost. He knew those lyrics, Harry had written them years ago. That is what they used to call each other’s public images: ghosts. Images without a soul. What a young and dramatic pair they used to be, back in 2013.

He didn't cry with that one, maybe because of its familiarity. And he wasn’t even mad about the songs about girls, he knew Harry better than that, even after all this time.

Next was Sweet Creature, the one everyone was speculating about, and honestly Harry, ‘two hearts, one home’? The song felt different. Maybe because he thought that Harry didn’t really remember about their lost home, about being young and in love. Too young to know, most people used to say. What a fool he was for listening. Now he knew, and it was too late.

Kiwi was funny in the most depressing way for him, Woman felt like an anthem, it felt like Harry’s jealousy, his deep and most dark possessive behavior. But then, when a chord from a guitar came in he went to his phone to check the name. He wasn’t quick enough, tho. The first verse stopped him right there. It was a good thing he parked in his apartment building a couple of songs ago.

Because there, in the shape of the last song of H’s first album, it was Louis' letter. His feelings in a notepad, in the shape of an awkward song. Almost word by word, Harry’s voice filled the car with calmness and longing, a branch of olive. He was giving the first step. If those little easter eggs along the album weren’t enough, he took Louis letter from two fucking months ago and put it there. He probably had to push the label to do it, with such short notice. Harry went out of his way to let him know it wasn’t over.

Harry went back to Princess Park, just like him. He went back home.

----

His friend picked up the phone after two missed calls.

‘Oi Lou, how ya doin?’ the thick Irish accent wasn’t enough of a distraction.

‘Hey lad, I’m fine. Sorry to bother but I need to ask you something’ he could hear the urgency in his own voice.

‘Never a bother mate, whatever you need’ Niall, always the optimistic. Louis loved him.

‘Is Harry staying here? In London I mean’

‘What? What's going on?’ and then ‘Oh, the album is out, innit?’

‘Yeah…’

‘Okay, well, Harry was going to be with Nick today so yeah, he must be doing press shit’

‘Of course, makes sense, thank you mate. I will explain later ’

‘Sure, use protection’

Louis rolled his eyes but didn’t deny the implications. The car came to life once again and he started driving to Harry’s house. The one they used to spend time in when they had some time between recording and touring. He didn’t even feel annoyed by the traffic, listening to the album all over again. Letting his body welcome Harry once again.

Of course, he still had his keys, drowned deep in the glovebox. He wasn’t going to enter the actual house, but it wouldn’t have been smart to stay outside on the street, someone could recognise him.

So once he parked in front of the building and noticed Harry wasn’t home, he closed his eyes and took a breath after what felt like hours. The next time he opened them there was a hand taping on his windows, he had fallen asleep.

It was a big hand adorned with rings and some nail polish. Louis knew what it felt to hold it more than he knew his own face. He took a deep breath and opened the door. Harry was waiting outside, a small smile making just one dimple appear. It was the first time they had seen each other in months but Louis felt like no time had passed. And if Louis was going to turn into an idiotic helpless cliche then it better be because of a boy as wonderful and beautiful as him. There was no one else. Harry was it.

‘I thought it was going to take you longer ’

‘To listen to the album or to get my shit together? ’

Harry seemed to consider his answer for a second, the dramatic little shit that he was. Then he smiled and Louis forgave him immediately.

‘Both’

Louis laughed and took a step closer to the love of his life.

‘I’m sorry, baby, I'm really sorry ’

‘Me too’

‘If you let me kiss you right now I’m never letting you go again. It's your choice’

‘Never wanted you to go in the first place’

‘Right answer’

And then they kissed because there wasn't much left to say. At least not right now. The conversation could wait for the next morning, once they had sex, pancakes and maybe a little dance in the kitchen. For old times sake.

----

Soooo, I wrote this because I couldn’t get the idea of Louis writing this song out of my head. And like, it sounds so much like Harry’s writing, this is not a theory at all. But I liked the idea so yeah. It’s probably gonna be my first and only fic about Larry, hope you like it.

All the mistakes are mine and its noy my first language, sorry if the grammar is trashy. Thanks.

#larry #larry stylinson #larry fic #larry fic rec #larry fanfic #fanfic #harry styles #louis tomlinson #canon compliant #but fiction #i don't think they broke up #and if they did is not my bussiness #just so you know

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queen-of-deans-booty · 4 years

Text

You’re Not Alone

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader,

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: mental illnesses, still depressed!reader but happier than before, fluff, baby-nipple action

Summary: Everything you thought you couldn’t have, you have now with the man of your dreams. All your life, you were told you weren’t good enough, but now that you know you are... you’re not alone anymore.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Author’s Note: This is the sixth part of six parts of the commission for @sea040561

All your worries as a pregnant woman all went away as soon as your baby boy was born. He’s only a few months old, but he is the light of your life. With having MDD and PDO, you thought you were going to be the world’s worst mom. All throughout your pregnancy, you were scared you weren't going to live up to what being a good mom is supposed to be like.

Regrettably, there were more than a few times where Dean had to force you to do something because your MDD and PDO wouldn’t let you do it. You two have a system going on that works, and now that your baby boy is here, you’re glad that you two went through what you did. You owe everything you have to Dean which is why you named him Bobby John Winchester. When he heard the name, he actually cried a little bit.

You hold Bobby John in your arms and he feeds from your breast. Everything bad you thought wasn’t going to happen, never did, so how can you really complain? Bobby John is literally a miracle, and you’re going to treat him with so much love and respect that he is overwhelmed by it. He seems happy right where he is, and that’s where you’re going to be. He’s everything you hoped to be and more, so you can’t ever imagine being apart from him.

He wasn’t sleeping at all, so you decided to sit in the rocking chair and feed him while Dean slept. There was no use in both of you getting up to deal with it knowing that you’re the only one who can calm him down and give him what he needs. He feeds silently, watching you with big green eyes. You fell in love with him the minute you heard him scream and cry, and now you vow to do everything in your power to protect him from everything bad in this world.

Even if that means it’s from you.

Yes, you still have it, and you’re not sure that it’s ever going to go away, but you’re going to work hard at keeping it at bay. You’ve been getting fewer and fewer episodes the longer you’re with Dean and your son, and that makes you really happy because of it. Dean is doing everything he can to take care of you in ways you never thought were possible, and you’re falling in love with him every single day. You’re learning to take better care of yourself, you go to therapy now to help with your episodes, and you’re doing it all for Bobby John. You have no clue where you’d be right now if you hadn’t met Dean Winchester.

It might be a higher power, but you’re thankful for it.

“Hey, you two doing okay?” Dean whispers when he enters the room.

It’s storming outside, and you’ve opted to keep the lights off so that Bobby John can feel more tired in the dark rather than in the light, but that doesn’t stop the lightning from filling the room with light every once in a while.

“What are you doing up? It’s my turn anyway,” you chuckle and turn your head to face him.

He walks around to face you so you don’t have to strain your neck. He looks at his son and smiles fondly, and he leans down and presses a kiss to his head. Bobby John’s eyes move from your face to Dean’s and then back to yours.

“I didn’t feel you in bed. I just wanted to check to see if everything was okay.”

“We’re doing fine. More than fine. He’s almost done anyway and then I’ll come to bed.”

“Okay,” he whispers. “Marry me.”

“What?” you ask and snap your eyes up to his.

“I don’t know about you, but I love you so much it hurts. We have a son now, and all I want to do is spend the rest of my life being married to you… to take care of you and our son like you both deserve. I don’t know how much time I have left on this Earth, but I know I want to spend it with you. Please, marry me.”

“Yes,” you giggle-cry.

He leans down and kisses his son’s head once more before moving up to your waiting lips. The kiss lasts longer than it should have, but he’s the one who pulls away first.

“I’ll be waiting for you in our room,” he winks at you as he leaves the nursery, and you turn to your son who removes his mouth from your nipple.

“You know, your Daddy is the strongest man you’ll ever meet. He’s been so good to us in ways you don’t know, but he is going to be here for all of us for a long time. He and your Uncle Sammy. You have three uncles, you know that? Uncle Castiel and Uncle Jack too. Though, if Uncle Jack tells you to put something in your nose, just say no,” you whisper.

It’s like Bobby John can understand what you’re talking about because he smiles at the mention of Jack. You were never certain about a lot of things in life, and you’re still not certain, but you know there is one thing you are certain of: you’re not alone anymore, and you’re going to be just fine.

I knew they were going to be together from the minute they were born. Y/N and Dean’s souls became intertwined, stretching to fit the distance between them. I always knew Y/N would have difficulties in her life regarding herself, but I couldn't interfere. She had to seek out Dean so she can prove to herself that she can become better. It sucks that she had to wait this long to do it, but I’m glad that she did.

I guess she could have been born “normal”, to have a life that wasn’t so hard. I didn’t make her, but I always kept a close eye on her to make sure she didn’t throw away her life before it truly started. Everyone has their own time clock, and hers just started later than usual.

Dean could have met her at any point, really, but she needed to be ready to meet him. Before, she wouldn’t have been so open to the idea of moving in with him or even consider dating him. Before, she wouldn’t have been so open to the fact that she could be happy. She needed to grow as a person, to meet Jody, and to have her as a support system before anything could have happened.

They’re soulmates, so they would have found each other one way or another. Their souls are interwoven so that it doesn’t matter how much distance is put between them. I’m glad they got to live this ending because I am a sucker for a happy ending. There aren’t a lot of those in the world these days.

Before, I looked at Y/N’s life and I looked at Dean’s life, and all I saw was sadness and despair. Now, all I see is hope, and I realize that they’ll never be alone again. My work here is done.

Wanna get tagged? Add yourself to this document! If your tag doesn’t work, find out why! Follow my library blog @queenofdeansbooty-writes where I reblog all my stories, so you can follow that if you can’t be tagged!

@flamencodiva @pisces-cutie @wingedcatninja @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @kiwihoee @thefaithfulwriter @babypink224221 @jennazeise @calaofnoldor @emoryhemsworth @miraclesoflove @xxboesefrauxx @kendall-michele @winchest3rbros @nahigm @sandlee44 @bluedazefangirl @a--1--1--3 @paintballkid711 @musiclovinchic93 @mrspeacem1nusone @essie1876 @thelazywitchphotographer @notyourtypicalrose @fuckwby @sing4mejensen @redsalv20 @superrandomnatural @scarletmeii @mizzezm @gaveherhearttotheliontattoo @akshi8278 @fandom-princess-forevermore @katherine097 @phantomalchemist @posiemax @tricksterdean @fallingintovoids @countrygal17a @whit85-blog @sammypotato67 @knowledgefulbutterfly @justalonely-nerd @sharp-cheekbones-locked @deanloveboi @dream-believe-and-love @casseythebee @redperson58 @liberty0123 @donnaintx @deans-baby-momma @perpetualabsurdity @foxyjwls007 @bluedazefangirl @thatmotleygirl @dumb-dork @havesaltwilltravel

#supernatural commission #supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural fluff #spn #spn fic #spn fanfiction #spn fluff

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kitkat99 · 3 years

Text

Disney legacy challenge Post Hey everyone I decided to go ahead and upload another challenge that I plan on doing in the future rules today and right now I am doing back stories pictures for snow white's family and her dating relationship stories but I plan on up loading photos of all the house holds involved in this future challenge but I also plan on uploading the actual challenge gameplays videos to my personal youtube channel in the near future. I also will be adding a video of their backstories on my you tube channel as well.

Disney Legacy Challenge rules

All rules apply, except it is okay to pick an aspiration for all sims, as well as a secondary aspirations. Also, if needed, you can add sims that you create to the household. your sims may go on vacation at any time and go to University, unless noted otherwise. Generations are listed below.

Generation 1: Snow White

She was the first princess, so of course she has to be the founder! If you choose, you can create her as a teen and make her evil stepmother, but that’s not necessary. To start, create Snow as an Adult (or Young Adult if you wanted to go to University, but that is not recommended for this generation).

.Find love with someone of high authority and/or wealth

.Must have 7 children (dwarves) with the same baby daddy

.May not marry until the 7th child is a toddler, has learned to walk, talk and use the potty, and has maxed out 1 toddler skill at least, or until that child is a child

.Don’t open the door to strangers or talk to elderly women (this includes the matchmaker from Nightlife and Freetime!)

Generation 2: Cinderella

Although you grew up with six brothers and sisters, you somehow always ended up doing the cooking and cleaning. Your mother says you’re a natural, but is that really what you want to do with your life? This generation starts when Cinderella becomes a teenager.

.Must be a neat sim

.Must clean something every day and cook every meal

.Must reach at least level 8 of the cooking and cleaning skill before you become an adult

.May not marry until your mother dies

.May stop cooking all the meals and cleaning after your mother dies

.Marry, have children

Generation 3: Tiana

What has your family accomplished? Nothing! But you’re here to do something about it. You want to work, and work hard. This generation starts when Tiana becomes a teenager.

.Must be an active sim

.Must have the fortune aspiration

.Must get a teen job

.Must go to University (if you have the expansion pack)

.Father must die before she goes to University or becomes an adult

.Must own a pet (if you have Pets, otherwise just get a fish)

.Must marry a sim with green (hair, eyes, skin, etc.)

.Have children

.Reach the top of career choice and may never retire

Generation 4: Aurora

Because of your mother’s hard work, everything just came to you, except for love. Your father rarely let you in the outside world for fear of something happening to you. This generation starts when Aurora becomes an Adult (may not go to University this generation)

.Must be a lazy sim

.Can only know three people outside her family

.Mother must die before Adulthood

.Must meet future spouse at night while her parents are sleeping

.Have a private wedding

.Only have 2 children (having 3 children by having accidental twins is fine)

Generation 5: Elsa (Requires Apartment Life, if not, see generation 5.5)

Where exactly did your powers come from? How exactly did you get it? Well, let’s just say, a certain friend gave you a curse… but that doesn’t matter. You spent all your time thinking about it, so much time, you became secluded from your entire family. You even missed your own parents’ funeral because you were too scared to show yourself! This generation starts when Elsa is a teenager.

.Must become a witch by the end of her teenage years (can not be cheated, can be good or bad)

.Have parents die as a teenager (can be cheated)

.Never marry, have one child (it was an accident)

Generation 5.5: Anna (If you have Apartment Life, you can do Anna and Elsa together)

After your sister was a child, she secluded herself from you, leaving you lonely and depressed. What did you do to deserve this? And after your parents’ death, she didn’t even show up to the funeral! What exactly is going on? When Anna is a teenager, this generation begins

.Don’t talk to sister until adulthood

.Have parents die as a teenager

.Find love with someone in the criminal career and/or a grouchy sim

.Have lover cheat on her, get engaged with loved

.Find someone new after breaking up with lover

.Marry, have one child

Generation 6: Rapunzel

You were never allowed outside your little house. So, to pass the time, you chose to do a lot of painting. But, why exactly did your mother never trust you out there? This generation begins when Rapunzel becomes a teenager.

.Must be a shy sim

.Must reach at least level 8 of the creativity skill before adulthood

.Must paint for an hour each day

.May only leave the house for school

.If you go to University, you may only talk to boys (if you don’t have University, just move in a handsome adult sim)

.Lover must be in the criminal career

.Lover must quit job before getting married (can get another one if they want)

.Marry, have kids

Generation 7: Belle

You have always found a love for books. It has transported you away to another universe. They taught you not to judge by appearance, but by character and personality. But, your father had different ideas. He set you up with the most handsome men, but none of them fit your standards. This generation begins when Belle becomes an adult.

.Must have Pleasure or Romance aspiration

.Date at least 5 men

.Find the man of your dreams- a werewolf (this may be cheated if necessary). If you don’t have Pets, just make an ugly sim

.Marry, have kids

.Werewolf is cured after marriage (if you don’t have Pets just try to make him less ugly or use hacks and cheats to change his appearance)

Generation 8: Ariel

You loved the water and everything about it. It just transported you away to another dimension, with mermaids and fish that talk to you. You always dreamed about being a mermaid, and you hope to one day make this dream a reality. This generation begins when Ariel becomes a teenager.

.Must be an active sim

.Must own a pool and swim in it for an hour or more each day

.Must marry a beautiful sim with at least two attraction bolts (if you have Nightlife)

.Have kids (no limit)

Generation 9: Jasmine

Living the rich life has its ups and downs. To you, it seems like mostly downs. The only thing you find comfort in is Raja. All your father wants from you is to marry rich, but you’re willing to give it all up just to be normal. This generation starts when Jasmine is a teenager.

.May only leave the house for school

.Must meet future spouse on a community lot dressed as a “poor person”

.Must marry a poor sim

.Lover must have a pet (if you have Pets)

.Go on vacation to all three vacation areas at least once

.Make use of the genie! (May not be cheated, can wish for anything besides hidden Give Me Youth)

.Have 4 children

Generation 10: Merida

You always wanted to know why your mother gave up her riches for a poor boy. Who in their right mind would do that?! Trying to learn more about this and your other “adventures” has landed you in lots of trouble over the years. When Merida becomes an adult, this story beings.

.Must be an active sim

.Lose siblings and mother in an “accident” (may be cheated)

.Resurrect them as zombies (use the resurrect-o-nomitron)

.Never marry or have kids

Generation 10.5: Mulan (for those who want a happier ending)

After your mother married her lover, she realized she wanted her children to live the life she did. She wanted all her children to marry rich, and succeed at life. But you wanted nothing but glory. When Mulan becomes an adult, this generation begins.

.Must be an active sim

.Must be in the military career

.Fall in love with a co-worker once you reach the top of the career

.Marry if you wish, but never have children

.Never retire

#disney #disney legacy challenge #sims 2 challenges #kitkat #Life of Kitkat #legacy challenge

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synmorite · 3 years

Text

Behind These Eyes- Chapter 2

Summary: The boys make you feel welcome in the bunker.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2955

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, mentions of depression, language, fluff

A/N: This is still a work in process, but if you have any constructive suggestions, please let me know! If there’s things that should be included in the warnings or the tags, feel free to send me a message.

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After you finished cleaning yourself off, you tugged on the Led Zeppelin shirt and sweatpants that Dean left for you. Even though the pants were a bit too big, there was a drawstring that you used to tighten them so they wouldn’t fall down. You walked over to the mirror and wiped the steam off of it. You finger combed your hair and realized it was longer than when you last saw yourself in a mirror. You studied your appearance in the mirror. You looked the same, but ...not. Your skin had a healthy glow when before it was pallid with dark circles under your eyes. You looked down at your arms and while you still had scars up and down them, they didn’t bother you like they used to. You’d been surprised when you noticed them in the shower since you had gotten used to your arms being smooth again. You recognized yourself in the mirror, but realized that you looked happy and healthy. You hadn’t seen this girl in a long time before you had said yes to Arti. Smiling at your reflection, you exited the bathroom. You wandered down the hall a little bit before smelling something delicious that had your mouth watering. You followed your nose down the hall and back through the library and map room into a kitchen. Dean was humming and putting the finishing touches on a couple of burgers. He looked up and grinned brightly at you when you stepped down into the kitchen.

“Thought you might be hungry too so I made some burgers.”

“They smell amazing, Dean. I literally just followed my nose into here. This place is a crazy maze!”

He laughed deeply and you couldn’t help but smile at him. “You have a beautiful laugh too, Dean.”

He blushed deeply again. Your grin widened.

“It is just so easy to make you blush!”

“What? No it isn’t!” He said, defensively while continuing to blush.

“Oh yeah? You wanna look in a mirror, handsome?”

He looked startled at the compliment and you laughed. “Shut up and eat your burger!” He said, setting it down on the table along with a beer. You settled down at the table across from him and picked up the burger. You took a big bite and couldn’t stop the moan that escaped at the flavors that assaulted your mouth.

“This tastes awesome! This is the best burger I’ve had in the last five years!” Dean snorted at your lame joke. “You made this?”

He nodded. “Just call me the Meat Man!”

You choked and had to take a gulp of beer to clear your throat. Luckily, choking hid the blush that had erupted over your face at Dean’s comment.

“To quote a great man: ‘That word. I do not think it means what you think it means.’” You said once you could speak.

Dean looked slightly offended. “Don’t quote my man Inigo to me. I love meat!”

You couldn’t help the smirk and cocked eyebrow. “Oh, really?”

He caught your meaning and blushed again. “Shut up.”

You laughed and continued eating your burger in silence.

You liked this hunter. You’d developed a crush from the stories that Arti had shared, but with meeting him you got to see this whole other side that wasn’t public knowledge. He was cute and a little nerdy. He was much more good looking that you had anticipated, and much sweeter. You could tell that he loved taking care of people by how he was taking care of you despite not really knowing you. He deserved so much better than everything that’s happened to him.

After Dean finished his burger, he watched you quietly for a few minutes.

“What?” You asked, before taking another large bite of the burger.

“Why’d you say yes? To Arti? Cass told us that he’s a good guy, a good angel. I just don’t get why someone like you would agree to be an angel’s vessel.”

You looked up and met his green eyes before setting the last couple of bites of your burger down. Slowly, you moved your arms out in front of you so he could see the scars. His eyes widened a little at the amount and size of some of them.

“Five years ago, I was in a really bad place. Had been for a while. I’d tried everything, but nothing was helping my depression. After years of hospital visits and attempts to help, my friends and family left one by one. I’d barely been holding on and probably wasn’t far off from another suicide attempt when Arti found me. It took a month for him to convince me. I thought he was just a delusion at first. But he promised me peace. He promised that I would never be alone. He promised to help me. And he did. He gave me peace. I didn’t have any stress or expectations weighing on me. I just got to see the beauty in the world and appreciate it for what it is. Do you know what it is that Arti does?”

Dean shook his head.

“He heals grief. He helps people move forward and on from their pain. He is a good angel.” You looked down at your empty plate. “I know that most angels are assholes. But not Arti. He only wants to help.”

Dean reached across and took your hand in his. His thumb rubbed softly over your skin, soothing you. Although, you didn’t feel that gnawing emptiness that you used to when thinking or talking about your depression, but his touch still comforted you.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He said softly.

You smiled. “Don’t be. Really, I’m alright now.”

Just then, you heard light footsteps enter the kitchen behind you. Dean let go of your hand and you turned around to see Castiel.

“Hey Cass, what’s up?” Dean asked. Castiel’s eyes were on the spot where Dean had been holding your hand.

“May I speak to Y/N for a moment?”

“Uh, sure.” You said, puzzled. You followed Castiel from the kitchen over to the library.

“I’d like to check on Artiya’il if you don’t mind.”

“No, not at all.”

Castiel reached two fingers up and touched your forehead. You felt a gentle warmth in your center before it receded and Castiel removed his fingers.

“How is he?” You anxiously asked.

“He’s weak. They drained him almost completely of his grace. He will need time to replenish.”

“How long?”

“It is hard to say. A month or two perhaps before he can reclaim control.”

“Oh.”

“Y/N, you will need to be careful. Artiya’il does not have the power to protect you. You should stay here and under the protection of the Winchesters.” He hesitated a moment before glancing towards the kitchen. “But also, please remember that it is temporary.” He walked away with those cryptic words. Before you had a chance to try and figure out what Castiel meant, you heard Dean behind you.

“What’d he say?”

You sighed. “That Arti’s grace was depleted and it could be a couple of months before he re-emerges and takes control.”

You saw something flash across his face before he settled on an indifferent look. You swore it looked like relief or excitement.

“I’m gonna need more clothes. And underwear…” You said, cocking your head at Dean.

His eyes sparkled at you and he smirked. “You could just go naked, sweetheart.”

You burst out laughing. “You first, smartass.”

He grinned. “Not sure you could handle it. I can take you out tomorrow if you want. Need to do a supply run anyway.”

“Awesome, thanks.” You yawned then and were startled to realize that you were exhausted.

“You should head to bed. Been a long day.” Dean said. He reached forward and laid his hand lightly on your lower back as he guided you back to your room. You curled up under the blankets and sighed softly at the softness. Dean shut your light off for you and as he shut the door, you heard him whisper, “Good night, princess.” Then you let sleep overtake you.

You slept peacefully and woke feeling well-rested. According to the clock, it was six in the morning. Still early. Stretching, you laid in the bed trying to think of what to do next. You had a couple months before Arti could come back. Castiel suggested you stay here, but you didn’t want to be a burden. You hated being a burden. That’s what you’d been to your family. You shot up in bed. Your family. You’d vanished without a trace five years ago. What did they think happened to you?

Throwing off the covers, you climbed out of bed and cracked open the door. You leaned out and glanced at Dean’s door. It was shut. You didn’t want to wake him up to ask to borrow a computer. You looked between your room and his door, debating on just waiting for him to wake up, but then you smelled coffee. The other brother, Sam, must be up. You hadn’t spoken to him much on the car ride to the bunker, but he seemed nice enough. You quietly shut your door and padded down the hall towards the library and kitchen.

You could hear some movement coming from the kitchen so you hesitantly entered it and spotted Sam sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and a newspaper. He looked up when you came down the steps and smiled brightly.

“Hey Y/N! How’d you sleep?”

“Pretty good.”

“Want some coffee?”

You nodded eagerly. He smiled at you again and got up to pour you a cup.

You sat down at the table, and Sam set a cup down in front of you.

“Sugar? Milk?”

“Nah, I like it black.”

Sam chuckled. “Dean does too.”

You smiled, thinking of Dean. “When does he get up?”

“It varies. Sometimes he’s up around now, but after a hunt he catches up on missed sleep a little. I’m not sure when he crashed.”

You sipped your coffee and Sam slid the paper over to you.

“I like going out for a run in the morning so I’ll be out for an hour. You need anything?”

“Uh, yeah. Do you have a computer I could use? I’d like to check in on my family…” You trailed off.

“Yea, no problem. I’ll go grab my laptop from my room.” Sam got up and placed his empty cup in the sink before leaving the kitchen.

You pulled the paper in front of you and glanced at the headlines. It didn’t look like much changed in the world. Still misery, death, and corruption. You sighed, knowing that while you had been at peace, the world would never find it.

Sam returned and set his laptop in front of you.

“The password to get in is getoffmycomputerdean. All lowercase.”

You burst out laughing. Sam grinned.

“Surprisingly, he hasn’t guessed it yet. Don’t tell him.”

“Oh, don’t worry. My lips are sealed.”

“Good. Alright, I’ll be back in about an hour.”

“Kay. Thanks Sam.”

Sam turned around and you heard his heavy footsteps before the bunker door thudded shut. You finished your coffee and carried Sam’s laptop into the library. You settled into a chair and opened his laptop. Giggling, you typed the password in and pulled up a google search page. Debating with yourself, you couldn’t decide between googling yourself or googling your family. Finally, you settled on yourself. You typed your name and your home city in and then eyed the results. Top results were an obituary and a link to a newspaper from 2010.

You clicked on the obituary first. It was definitely for you.

Y/N Y/L/N- Y/N passed away presumably around April 23rd, 2009. Y/N suffered from mental illness much of her life before disappearing last year without any warnings to her family and friends. She is survived by her parents and a younger sister. In lieu of flowers, donations can be made to the family’s Go Fund Me page to support them in their time of grief.

You scoffed. The date was off by two weeks. You said ‘yes’ to Arti on April 7th. You had figured that you would have been declared dead by now, but you thought they would have gotten your disappearance date more correct.

Moving on to the newspaper, you realized it was just the requirement to declare you dead legally. Just a couple of sentences about what you looked like, when you disappeared, and to contact the police with any information about your disappearance before you were legally declared dead.

Next, you went onto Facebook. Luckily, you still remembered your password. You scrolled through your own page and saw the only recent comments on your page were random people from high school and some former jobs wishing you happy birthday. Even after your supposed death. You searched through your short friends list until you found your sister. You scrolled through her page and saw that she’d been in a relationship with a guy for the last four years. All of her pictures were of her and this guy. You kept scrolling through all of the inane content she posted until you finally reached a post that mentioned you.

It’s finally done! The judge approved the declaration of Y/N’s death this morning.

That was two days before when the obituary was posted. You scrolled through the comments on the post and saw some people ask what happened. Your sister answered very simply. We’re pretty sure she killed herself. She had a long history of mental illness.

You kept scrolling and found another post that mentioned you a few months before that.

For those of you who know my sister, Y/N, can you let me know if you’ve seen her? Parents got a collection notice in the mail for her and we can’t get a hold of her to pass it along.

That was it. Those were the only posts about you. And from what you could tell, your family didn’t realize you were missing for nine months.

You leaned back in the chair and frowned at the computer. You knew you’d been a burden to them, but wasn’t quite expecting so much indifference to your supposed death.

You were so stuck in your thoughts, that you didn’t hear Dean approach you from behind.

“Hey, you okay?” Dean said, touching your shoulder gently. You jumped at the contact.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He pulled the chair out next to you and glanced at the computer screen. “Looking yourself up? What’d you find?”

“My family didn’t realize I was missing for months.” You murmured.

He studied your face carefully before reaching up and wiping away a tear that managed to escape your eye.

“Hey,” he said softly. “A wise man once told me that family don’t end in blood. Arti is your family now. I can be your family. Sam and Cass can be your family. We can be the family that you choose you have.” He grasped your hand in his and rubbed his thumb across the back of it.

Your eyes raised and met his gorgeous green ones. You could see in them the sincerity. He was offering you a place with his family. To be a part of it. And you knew in your heart that all of them would make you feel welcome. Hell, they already had. From Dean cooking you dinner last night to Sam loaning you his computer. They really wouldn’t hesitate to bring you in and make you part of their little family. This could be home.

You nodded. A wide grin spread across Dean’s face and you leaned forward and hugged him hard. After just a second’s hesitation, Dean wrapped his arms around you too. You gave another squeeze before pulling away. Dean’s hands reluctantly pulled away from your back, but he left one on your waist. The warmth of his palm through the shirt caused goosebumps to raise across your skin.

Dean glanced at the computer again and his eyes widened.

“Wait, that’s Sam’s computer! You know his password?!?!” He reached a hand towards it and you quickly smacked his hand away.

“Dean, no!”

He reached for the computer again. “Dean, yes!” You tried to smack his hand away again, but he squeezed your side with the hand that was still resting there. You squeaked. He stopped and looked at you in surprise before a grin spread across his perfect pink lips.

“Oh, no. No, don’t you dare, you fucker!” He quickly reached for you instead of the computer and then started to tickle your sides.

Tears ran down face as you giggled and snorted and tried to twist away from his hands. You heard the bunker door slam shut.

“Sam! Save me, Sam! He’s tickling me!’ Dean stopped and you gasped for breath. You looked over at Sam and saw he was grinning.

“Yea, I don’t think I want to get involved.”

“Hey, I gave myself up in defense of your computer!” Dean looked at the computer again which was now closed.

“Hey now! When did you shut it?” He said indignantly.

“You were too busy torturing me to notice, handsome.” You grinned.

“Well if it was to protect my computer and password… Dean’s also very ticklish.” Sam said.

Dean gasped next to you. “Traitor!”

You turned back around to smirk at Dean, but were met with an empty chair. You could hear his footsteps retreating down the hall.

“Hey! Get back here and take your tickling like a man!” You shouted after him.

“Nope!” He laughed and you ran after him.

Go to Chapter 3 >>>

#dean x reader #Dean Winchester x Reader #dean winchester #fluff #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #spn #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #behind these eyes #synmorite #synmoritewrites

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lovely-bangtan7 · 4 years

Text

JJK | Cold Heart (1)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst, Fairy tale, Frozen!Au, IceQueen!Au, lumberjack!Jungkook; bestfriend!Jungkook, IceQueen!Reader,

Warnings: Mentions of blood & injuries, Mentions of anxiety

Words: 5,8k

A/N: Hello loves! I am starting a mini series with our beloved maknae! This was originally supposed to be posted on another account of mine and a friend, but this one is not active anymore, so I decided to post it on my personal account. If you question if this was stolen, it isn’t! I wrote it on my own back then, the account was only shared! I really hope you guys will like it! Happy reading <3

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | next chapter >>

You were never able to even dream such a situation like you were in now. You never wanted to hurt anyone, you always wanted your people, especially him to be safe from you. It was like your worst nightmare came true and unfortunately, it did. Your whole world was shattered into many pieces, seeing his cold eyes staring at you, wide open and in fear. He wanted to protect you from the man that tried to kill you and you wanted him to kill you so that this spell would finally leave your kingdom. But Jungkook couldn't let this man kill you, the queen of Arendelle, the girl that he knows since he was born. “Jungk-..kookie..” You whispered, your ice cold hands touching his figure completely covered in blood.

And the one who did this to him was you yourself. Again.

You were destined to be the Queen of Arendelle from the second you entered this world. Being the only child of the King and the Queen, a beautiful and charming princess with a power that no other human was gifted with. People would say that your power was a blessing from the god’s, but as the years went by and the older you got, these powers turned into a deadly and yet beautiful weapon.

It was a beautiful spring day, many years ago, the flowers were coming to life, the green leaves painting the world of Arendelle in a bright green and the sun warming the air up, the winter was coming to an end. But not for you and not for Jungkook. Winter was the season you loved the most not only because you were part of the ice cold weather, the snow and the ice, but it was the time where you could play with Jungkook without any worries. But the winter eventually came to an end and spring took over the country, this actually didn't stop you and Jungkook from having your adventures.

You both were running around the fields with no destination, laughing and playing around like children do. “Hey, y/n let’s build a snowman!” Said Jungkook randomly with a huge smile on his face. You came to a halt, catching your breath and thinking about his idea. You weren't completely sure if this was a good idea, but you saw his toothy smile. Jungkook was always amazed at your powers and loved it when you used them, it fascinated him and made him always happy.

Shaking your head you moved your hands and the blue colour appeared around them, the cold slowly embracing your small hands. Snow began to form in them and seconds later the ground was covered in shiny white and fluffy snow. Jungkook started to laugh and immediately formed a snowball in his hands, you joined him right after. It didn't take you long to build a snowman, but the warm sun made the snowman melt.

“We need more snow, y/n!” Without thinking you did as said and more Snow appeared on the ground, while Jungkook shouted ‘more’ in excitement. You went with the flow, letting snow and ice appear everywhere. Jungkook was now running around kicking the snow, forming snowballs and throwing them away as you tried to make more snow, but soon a weird feeling grew up in your stomach.

“More! Make more snow!” You slowly felt pressure coming from Jungkook. He couldn’t have enough of the snow and you felt unsure by that.

“No, that’s enough!” You told him but he didn't drop it so soon and grabbed your hands. “Jungkook! That’s enough, go away or I will-”, you couldn't finish your sentence due to the Ice, that formed in your hands and hit Jungkook. The boy flew back and didn't move a bit. You let out a shriek and cried for help, a few guards that were in the same area, watching you from afar came to help, but the ground was covered with ice. The guards slipped yet still tried to get to you and help you with whatever was wrong. You noticed a red liquid coming from Jungkook’s head, it wasn't a lot, just a few drops but enough to set you in complete panic.

The guards helped you and Jungkook up and brought him to the palace’s doctor, who confirmed that the ice didn't hit Jungkook’s body, only the hit on the ground and injured him. You felt endlessly guilty for what you did to Jungkook for not being able to control himself.

After he woke up, he told you that it wasn't your fault. He said that it was his own fault, that he shouldn't have pressured you to make more. He promised you that he won’t do it ever again. He told you that he will protect you now after he saw how dangerous your powers are, he wants to protect you from other people and from yourself. He promised you.

But days after the incident, after your parents heard about what happened in the field, they thought that it would be dangerous to let you play with other children. It could happen that more accidents like these could happen, after all, you could kill someone. Your parents forbid you from interacting with other children, especially Jungkook.

“You are not allowed to talk or play with him, he will never walk in this palace ever again!”

You felt like the deadliest monster. A monster that could destroy the whole world if it wanted to. You haven't seen Jungkook, your only friend, ever again. You didn't know if he was still in town or if his family was forced to leave.

Years of being isolated in the castle went by. You quickly learned to be alone for most of the time. Your days were either filled with studies or being in your room, staring out of the window and watching the world growing older and older.

A few years later your parents had to leave the country due to some business overseas. The only people who you could talk to without any borders had to leave you and you felt anxious at the thought of it. It meant that you would be completely alone from now on.

You hugged your parents tightly as a goodbye, wishing them a good journey. “Tell me everything when you come back in three weeks, okay?” But if only you would know that your parents would never come home.

It was said that pirates attacked, robbed and killed the royals ship, it took one survivor almost 2 months to come back and tell you and everyone who lived in the castle. By that time everyone, including you, were already grieving the loss of the king and the queen. After 5 weeks without any letter coming from your parents, everyone knew that they passed away. A big depression came over your country, the people living in the town were grieving for a long time.

You had the most difficult time. You felt empty without your parents, you were alone. Overwhelmed by the situation, the preparations for you becoming the queen started too quick for you. The fear inside you grew stronger and stronger each day and there were many moments where you couldn't control your powers. You were a complete mess in that time and no one knew how to help you, but they tried their best to help you in every possible way but without forgetting that you will be the queen soon.

Years later you were ready to become the queen, by the age of 21 years. Your coronation will be soon, in a few days to be exact. A lot of things have changed and you changed the most.

However Jungkook did change too. Meanwhile of your horrible experiences, he grew into a handsome and capable man, tall, strong with a kind heart. After being banned from the Castle, he suddenly had no work, no place that he could call home, neither did he have a family - they died years ago from the disease that spread around the kingdom - he was all alone.

Luckily the lumberjack of the town had found him in an alley, freezing, hungry and abandoned. He immediately brought him to his home, gave him warm food and clothes. “Boy, what were you doing outside during this time? You could have freezed yourself to death!” He scolded him but still with a soft voice. The lumberjack had no family either - no wife and no children. He was already an elder, the wrinkles heavily evident around his eyes and forehead. “I never really had time for such things, I… I guess work was always much more important to me.” Soon Jungkook had learned how really important it was for him. He chopped wood for many hours of the day, from the morning until the sun would set down. It was a simple task that required much strong muscles. Muscles harder than timber, but with a soft heart.

Jungkook was determined to help the lumberjack, he owed that to him for saving his life. He was a quick learner, a good student to his teacher. It took him just a few days to perfect the technique of chopping wood, the fastest way with lots of profit. The lumberjack was endlessly thankful to the young man.

“Son, I don’t think you ever told me where you lived before I found you.” He suddenly asked during supper. Jungkook never wanted to talk about his past with you in the castle. His heart never broke this much, knowing he wasn’t allowed to be with you anymore. He didn’t blame you, he blamed himself though. He knew that he was at fault, he shouldn’t have pressured you and so, if he was a little more smarter back then he still would have been by your side. “I remember you were hungry, but you didn’t look starved.”

The old man looked at Jungkook, curiosity lingered on his face. He always respected Jungkook’s privacy but this was a mystery he could never solve on his own. The only way to know was to ask.

But Jungkook didn’t know how to answer, just the mere thought of you -his best friend- made his heart ache in agony. His face fell, he could only imagine how alone you must be right now, how hurt and how scared. It’s been years since the king and queen passed away and Jungkook remembers hearing about their death. He just wanted to storm inside the castle, run straight into your room and take you in his arms. He hated that he couldn’t be with you during the lowest point of your life.

More thoughts of you flooded his mind, intoxicating his heart with hate for himself, cravings of you, tainting his heart black.

“I am sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. It was impolite and indelicate.” Jungkook shook his head, signaling his teacher that he did nothing wrong.

“No, it’s okay. I just..” He had to swallow a huge knot in his throat. “I don’t know how to explain. Back then I made a mistake and lost my only friend and home. I mean, my previous home.” He quickly added, his home was here now. The small cottage outside the town in the wood land. The years he spent with the old lumberjack, made him grow incredibly close. He had taught him wisdom and made Jungkook learn more about himself. But also showed him how it felt to have a father, someone to look up to. Someone to seek comfort from, someone who gave him a home full of love. By now he could call him ‘Appa’.

The lumberjack had found himself a son. Something he could have never imagined. To have someone he could call his son, his family. He was incredibly happy and so proud of Jungkook. He grew up to be a mature man but also still held the heart of a little child. His heart always swelled when he could spend time with him, whether it would be work or just sitting with him and drinking a hot coffee or beer. Jungkook was someone who filled in the gap in the lumberjack's life.

The next morning as Jungkook still laid in bed, he could hear shuffling sounds coming from downstairs. Someone had visited him, the voices were loud and very.. formal? He couldn’t remember a customer talking this way to either him or his appa. However, minutes after the visitor had left, the lumberjack stormed into his room, a wide smile on his wrinkled face. He held a white letter with golden ornaments in his hand. “Son, wake up!” Jungkook groaned and turned around. Mumbling something about sleeping 5 minutes more.

But the lumberjack couldn’t bear Jungkook sleeping longer with the news he had just received. He grabbed his thick blanket and yanked it away. “No time to sleep, son! Come down I’ve got something to tell you.” And he left.

The young lumberjack needed a few more minutes to wake up properly. Slowly Jungkook dragged his still tired legs downstairs to where Appa sat. There was a letter laid out on the table. It must be some really big news that he had gotten, he had never seen him smile until the point his cheeks turned red.

“Son, we’ve hit the jackpot. The royal adviser himself just paid us a visit.” Suddenly Jungkook was wide awake. Royal? Why would a royal adviser come to their house deep in the forest? Do you maybe know-?

“The princess heard of our hard work and wished to have us as the deliverer of wood for her castle.” He announced happily. Jungkook sat there frozen. “She also wants to pay tribute to us and more of her people that work hard. Like the baker, the butcher and a lot more. So she invited us to her coronation and the ceremony afterwards.”

That was very, well how should Jungkook put it into words? Down-to-earth? You always valued the work of your people and respected them a lot. He remembers how often you sat in the castle's kitchen and watched the bakers and cooks do their work. For them it was their proudest moments to have their princess sit on a small stool and be excited over anything they did. Though it was only Jungkook and the workers of the castles who knew of this side of yours.

He couldn’t explain how and why but somehow rumors spread that you were a cold human. The irony. Jungkook hated the folk's talk about you. Many of them despise you She is inhuman; She treats everyone bad and shuts them out; No one inside the castle saw her ever smile in her life! Why should you smile? You lost your best friend and your parents, you were all alone and had the burden of ruling over a wide kingdom that had many huge conflicts in front of it’s gates.

Jungkook was nervous, way too nervous. Unable to let his mouth form a word, he nervously read the letter. There it was written; The royal majesty, the Crown Princess of Arendelle invites the Lumberjack and the Lumberjack's family to the ceremony of the coronation held inside the chapel and later on, in the halls of the castle.

The big halls, the place where all ceremonies were held. Jungkook could still imagine all details of the colorful walls and pillars, the heavy red curtains with these huge windows that gave the perfect view of the town with the mountains right behind it. He also could remember how you two played there in both early years of childhood. The giggles and stories you two shared. The little games you thought of, plus the trouble you got in. Your teachers could only shake their heads and had to look out for you. The princess getting hurt was a risk no one was willing to take.

A small smile crept on Jungkook’s face as he was thinking about his childhood. Though his Appa misunderstood this smile. “Exciting, isn’t it?” He clapped into his hands and stood up. “We have to celebrate this with a big breakfast!” He announced and got to work.

There were only 7 days left until your coronation. 7 days until he would meet or atleast see you again.

At night he wondered if you’d recognize him. You would, wouldn't you? You had to. Both you and him grew up together, his features must be marked in your brain. But how would you react then? Would the two of you talk? Would you approach him or should he do that? Was he even allowed to talk to the queen then? Well he was invited and it was probably appreciated to speak out his thanks for the invitation. He found himself in a dilemma. Feelings and thoughts were racing inside his brain, he was engaged with his own issues that he couldn’t concentrate on his work.

“Kookie, you seem off. What’s wrong?” Asked a female voice behind him. It was Yuna, the daughter of the town's baker. The baker and his appa were really good friends and so they had an arrangement. They would trade wood for bread. It was a very valued alliance. Yuna was 3 years younger than Jungkook, very delicate and really pretty. All the men and boys swooned over the girl, which flattered her a lot but she wished this behavior came from Jungkook. She had developed a small or a huge and heavy crush on the young man. Which girl didn’t? Soon after Jungkook worked alongside his appa he became the town's talm. Whenever Yuna brought bread to the lumberjack's cottage, she wouldn’t miss the chance to talk to Jungkook. She hoped for more between them. But everytime Yuna called him ‘Kookie’, inwardly he cringed.

You gave him the name ‘Kookie’, it was you who called him that way and he would only accept this name coming from your lips.

“Ah, Yuna. I-” “I know, I know.” She giggled innocently. “But I like calling you like this.”

Jungkook nodded defeated. He gestured for the girl inside the cottage and took the bread from her hands. Inside he placed it inside the bread basket and offered her a cold drink. It was a really hot day, the sun burned down from the sky making people sweat tremendously. Jungkook was glad that the trees offered him this much shade. It was much easier to work outside and not melt away in the sun.

Yuna sat down and took in her surroundings. She liked coming here, everything was so small inside the cottage even though the old lumberjack was a very big and broad man. As her eyes scanned the room she noticed the letter. “Oh, you are invited too?” Her loud and cheerful voice startled Jungkook. Looking over his shoulder he saw her looking at the letter and gave her sounds of approval. “Papa was invited too and promised he would take me with him!”

Yuna was as excited as a little girl. For a night, she could dine with nobles and the future queen herself. She imagined herself in a beautiful and long dress, dancing through the night with princes and other nobles. However, as she laid her eyes on Jungkook who had his back towards her, she imagined him in a suit that would make him look like an actual prince. She imagined how Jungkook would ask her for her hand and dance until their feet hurt. Thinking about this made her cheeks redden and Jungkook asked himself if she was out too long in the sun - so he gave her some cold water to drink and cool down before she went back to her own home. “I don’t think that I’ll go..?” His words made Yuna’s bubble burst in an instant.

“Why?” She asked him sadly and sent him a frown. “You have to! The queen invited you, that would be very rude of you towards her.”

Jungkook had to chuckle softly. “Might be, but I am not sure if I am welcome there.” Yuna couldn’t understand. Why would she invite him then and why would he even think that way. He was a hard working, cute and hands- a hard working lumberjack! He had to get his well earned honor from the queen. “However, drink up before you go. It’s important to stay hydrated out there in the heat of this summer.”

Jungkook hurried back outside where he left his work unattended for too long. He could have sworn that the minutes he spent inside, it got even hotter outside, so as soon as he threw his shirt on the ground, he started to chop the wood lined up before him. He had to calm his nerves down. It completely wrecked him that he would meet you again or at least see you again from afar. He was scared of your reaction, scared of what would happen after that night. He actually knew what would happen - the hole inside his chest would grow bigger. That, he was sure of.

The day finally came, it had to come after all. Jungkook and his appa wore the best suits that they could get. Everything felt like back then. The smell of the chapel, the well polished wood, the thick curtains and the smell of melted wax filled his nostrils.

Jungkook was seated alongside his appa in the back of the chapel. People of his status weren’t allowed to be in the front. Nobles, other kings and queens and important politicians sat there and watched you taking your vows.

He couldn’t see you, just a few glimpses of your back. You wore a deep marine blue dress with a long trail. He could see a few golden ornaments stitched on it, similar to the kingdoms emblem.

Closing his eyes he listened to the choir singing softly in the back of the chapel. It really did feel like his childhood, only that he was much taller now. The sudden movement around him made him snap his eyes open. Everyone stood up to pay their respects as you slowly made your way outside to greet the people waiting in the streets. It was then where he could finally see your face again. His heart skipped a beat or two. You grew up to be a very beautiful woman. Your facial structures got sharper but yet were very soft. Your big eyes sparkled in the light and your plump lips looked so.. Jungkook really couldn’t find words. He was truly enchanted by your beauty. The few seconds he could see you felt like long minutes for him and suddenly a roar of cheers, screams and applause was heard. You reached outside to the front and slipped away from Jungkook’s gaze.

He wanted to see you again, see you much closer.

The food, like always, was fantastic. Everyone was seated around many round tables. Jungkook never saw the main hall filled with so many people, he did wonder if everyone could fit in here. Looking around he saw the guests chatting and laughing, a few were eating while others were dancing to the music that was played by the castle's orchestra. At this point Jungkook couldn’t tell which status a person was, everyone looked so neat and expensive in their dresses and suits. He wondered if the person that was talking to appa was a noble, maybe even a king or just a simple man that worked somewhere in the town. Maybe another baker? Maybe someone who built houses or furniture, but his hands were way too clean for that. Those hands didn’t belong to a worker, it must be someone of a higher status than Jungkook was.

During the entire day Jungkook caught himself thinking about his childhood among these walls and it made him feel nostalgic. A small smile crept on his face. He felt warm, he felt at home even after so many years, even after he got robbed of this place.

As the music came to a halt, an announcer made its way to the front where the throne stood. There was little change over the past years. Jungkook remembered two large chairs, for the late queen and king but now there was only one, yours. An awful, displeasing feeling filled Jungkook’s chest. It reminded him of the death of your parents, it was a strange sight.

“... Her Majesty, the Queen y/n of Arendelle!” Trumpets started to play and everyone in the room bowed down to greet the queen entering the hall.

Jungkook tried to get a glimpse of you but as he straightened again his view was blocked with the backs of your guests.

Though he was a little scared, because of his own feelings, he just had to see you again. It was like something pulled him towards you. Preferably he would have run to you and taken you in a big, tight hug and never let you go. He just missed you so much. He didn’t think that the agony inside his heart would be this strong but yet here he was, longing for you more and more each second he stood there knowing you were in the same room as him.

But he had no chance to talk to you. How could he? He couldn't just walk up to you and greet you like nothing had happened. He wasn’t allowed to get near you, well he thought so.

Jungkook’s appa appeared in front of Jungkook and grabbed him by the arm. “I’ve finally found you, son! Come, come I want to talk to the queen.”

“W-wait! A-appa no, we just can’t-” But that was no use. His appa had already dragged Jungkook to you and took a deep bow. Jungkook however stood there frozen. From up close, to his surprise, you were even more beautiful he couldn’t believe it.

Seconds passed and he still couldn’t move a bit even the people around him noticed his strange behavior and a few of them started to whisper.

“Son, what are you doing? Take a bow, goddamn.” gritted Appa through his teeth, hoping you wouldn’t hear him.

Though something also shifted inside you. You didn’t, never in a million years would have expected him, out of all people, standing there. You tried to fight your tears, smile, excitement whatever you were feeling right now, but you had to act cool. You couldn’t let your guard down.

“Your majesty, me and my son are highly thankful for your invitation. We are truly proud to call you our queen.” Appa told you, which you answered with a soft smile and a little bow of yourself to show your gratitude towards the men. “May I ask what kind of job you are practicing?” - “Oh, we are the town’s lumberjacks and make sure everyone is warm and cozied up during the cold winter, because who would want to be in the cold anyway?” His appa joked and you tried to give a smile. Sure, he’s right. People preferred to have it warm instead of a cold home. You didn’t quite know, but his words hurt you a little. If people knew about your secret, would they still accept you as a queen. You definitely heard what people said about you, that you turned into a cold person but they blamed it on the death of your parents. You didn’t want that. You wanted your folk to accept you and that’s why you invited the most important people from your kingdom, you wanted to show them that you aren’t a cold hearted girl that lived locked up in her castle - no, you wanted to show them that you are different and so you started with your gratitude towards them.

“I understand.” You said softly. “Thank you very much for your hard work.” First you looked to Appa’s direction but then shifted to Jungkook. You smiled and bowed towards him.

Jungkook’s heart was beating in his throat, he felt it. The words he wanted, actually had to say were struck somewhere between his throat and stomach and the moment you smiled at him. Boy, he wished he could just disappear right there.

Just how fast Jungkook and Appa approached you, they already had to leave again. Other guests wanted to speak to their majesty as well.

He sighed deeply, “Son, are you okay?” Of course Appa would notice how strange his son acted. His wrinkled eyes gazed worriedly upon the younger male. “Are you sick? Unwell? Maybe you need some fresh air? ”

“No, no. I am okay, I was just nervous meeting the… queen.” Jungkook would perhaps never grow accustomed to calling you that. For him you were still his little princess, his best friend. Appa laughed, his deep raspy voice echoing through the hall. The grip of his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, a fathery gesture, made him calm his senses a bit.

“Hello Jungkook!” It was a female’s voice. He immediately recognized this as Yuna’s voice, who came running over with a huge smile on her face. Jungkook sighed again, earning a nudge from his Appa. “You look really handsome. God, this place is so beautiful. I still can’t believe that I am in the same room as the queen!” She squealed, excitedly.

However, whilst Yuna was talking about her admiration towards you, other voices were heard in the background. “You monster!” It was a males voice, much older than Jungkook he supposed. “I-I am sorry. Please.”

This was your voice, sounding scared and trembling. You were definitely in distress and Jungkook knew what this meant. He made his way through the crowd and saw how a man, probably in his mid sixties, was almost throwing himself at you. Luckily the guards separated you from the man. “She is a monster, she needs to be locked up!” He screamed into the room, confusion started to grow and whispers were heard. They saw that the man’s hand was covered in ice, but how could that happen?

You could only shake your head. If the man won’t stop screaming at you, you won’t be able to control yourself anymore. Anxiety started to grow within you, it felt like it was choking you.

“You shouldn’t trust the queen, one day she will snap and kill all of you!” That was enough for Jungkook. It was like his brain stopped working, but he had to protect you. He walked up at the man and practically towered over him, his eyes were piercing though his stupid looking face. “Stop talking to her like this, you don’t know her at all.” The old man, a noble that wore his emblems proudly on his chest, looked up at the younger man. How dare he talk to a noble in this tone?

“You should be locked up with her, you discourteous brat.” Hissed the old noble and called his own guards, that travelled with him to protect himself. They grabbed Jungkook both his arms, they were ready to do god knows what with Jungkook.

You just couldn’t stand there and watch him getting dragged away, you had to do something. Though you should think before you take action. You just wanted to raise your hand and shout for them to stop, when suddenly all three men slipped on the cold ice, you finally realised what you have done. The people around looked at you with fear, few taking steps back. “I-I didn’t want that! I am sorry, really.” You held your own arms, in fear of another accident only to be yanked around by the old men. You didn’t want to hurt him again and yet you accidentally attacked him, making him fall down with a screech. Your eyes widened at the sight.

Everything happened so fast, people were screaming and trying to get away from you. They were scared you would attack them too. Guards from other kingdoms ran up to you, ready to tackle you down if you’d try to perform your dangerous magic again. The only way to prevent these men from capturing you, was to run away.

Every step you took, every frame, every door you touched was immediately covered with ice. You however didn't notice what you were doing, putting your kingdom into a cold winter - during summer.

“Son. Son! Are you okay?” Appa made his way through the panicked crowd, searching for Jungkook and whilst he helped a few people that fell to the ground due to the crowd pushing others and running around. Soon he found Jungkook and pulled him up into a tight hug. “God, what were you thinking? You could have gotten hurt!”

“It’s okay, she would never hurt me.” His appa and Yuna, who shortly joined him, didn’t understand Jungkook. How would he know that? “I mean, I felt like it, you know?” He added quickly upon seeing their flustered faces. Appa studied Jungkook’s face. He never had seen Jungkook act like this for someone else. Maybe there was more behind it, something he would never understand as long as Jungkook wouldn't open up about his past.

Jungkook gazed longingly towards the doors where you had escaped through. “I need to find her.” He mumbled under his breath. Yes, it was his duty to go and find you. He had to. This time he should act like your best friend and finally help you. “Appa, I have to go and find y/n- the queen!”

“No Jungkook that’s too dangerous!” Now it was Yuna talking to him, she didn’t understand why he would go out there and risk his life for someone he didn’t know personally.

He shook his head at her remark. Of course it was dangerous, he knew that but he would willingly put himself in danger for you. A strong hand landing on his shoulder distracted his attention from Yuna to the owner of said hand. His appa looked at him with admiration in his eyes. They were soft and warm, like always. “Be careful, okay?” That was everything he had to tell his son, he knew nothing could stop him from going out there to find you.

Jungkook didn’t have much time, he had to hurry to at least intercept you before you would disappear somewhere never to be found again. That’s something he feared a lot, not being able to find you anymore.

Running outside, a sudden cold hit Jungkook. He didn’t notice the world being laid under deep snow and the air being ice cold, so cold that it hurt his skin. It must have been you who did that. While other people were scared of the sudden winter outbreak, Jungkook was fascinated about what your powers could do.That was something he could care about later, now he had a duty to face. He had to find you.

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yandere-wishes · 4 years

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🐍 There Are Things Much Worst Than Death //Twisted Wonderland Yandere! Jamil Viper x Reader// 🐍

So the competition didn’t go how I planned but here’s one promised story. Thanks to @feedmestraycats for choosing the prompts.

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It hurt, it had most likely always hurt, maybe the pain was so mind-numbing that it was easy to forget that he was in any pain, or maybe he'd always know and had come to bear the pain each passing day until it became a norm. Which explanation was true Jamil neither knew nor cared? The point was that right now the bones in Jamil's body shook and rattled, his skin seemed to be getting tighter and tighter. The fibers wrapping themselves rigorously against his snapping bones. Everything felt wrong, everything felt painful, everything...had always been like this.

(y/n) had always loved Kalim, she'd always trailed after him like a lost puppy, always catered to his every wish. She was like a genie, granting wish after wish for an aloof, nonchalant master. Then again didn't Kalim treat everyone like that? The firstborn son of the Al-Asim family never really cared much for others so long as they merrily played along with his shenanigans. Nothing other than the lavish parties would ever matter to the prince. Yet (y/n) knew was all so desperate to gain the love of her beloved prince that she discarded what everyone knew, she ignored that Kalim would never care about her. She overlooked everything just to be in his presence.

Really it was all waste in Jamil's opinion. While (y/n) clueless perused Kalim she never once turned around to so much as spare a glance at Jamil. It seemed like the only interactions between the young girl and the vice dorm leader where whenever (y/n) would barge into his room crying that Kalim was off somewhere doing the unholiest of things with some other girl that he's picked up during a party.

Well, it had been a waste, until tonight. Until this very second Jamil would have bet his life that Kalim would never exhibit a scrap of interest in poor little (y/n). He was so sure, yet so wrong. In the warm, musky, daze of another one of Scarabia's infamous parties, there sat (y/n) and Kalim, bodies pressed together, lips grazing, eyes closed while hands roamed. Another toy for Kalim to play with until he eventually got bored. Jamil's eyes remained trapped on the repulsing vision in front of him. His body reverberated with an incurable ache, his heart pounded fiercely against his rib cage, try all so desperately to break the rips and fling it's self out of Jamil's body in a merciful gesture to end the poor boy's pain. His attention flicked back to his crush and childhood friend, with uneven guests (y/n) pushed aside the thin fabric curtains as she clumsily stepped out into the partying crowd. She was walking right towards him! Jamil noted, it felt like -in the upmost depressing, imaginary way- that (y/n) had finally abandoned her guest for Kalim's love and finally recognized Jamil as her one true love! A fantasy, a hopeless teenage dream.

(Y/n) stopped in front of him, her eyes where hooded, he faces painted with a lusty smile. Her lips moved but no words reached Jamil's ears, for his attention had long been taken by the numerous purple and blue marks spread across, her neck and shoulders, some even trailing closer to her hidden breasts. Rage boiled inside of Jamil, an unyielding heat spread across his body. HIS, she was meant to be his! Not that ungrateful brats! She wasn't meant to belong to the careless prince who had had everything he wanted handed to him on a silver platter since birth!

Over the throbbing music, (y/n) words finally hit Jamil's ears. The black-haired boy turned to her, hands crossed and eyes locked in a stern glare. "Jamil~ Can you fetch Kalim and I some drink?"

With a heavy sigh, Jamil's hands feel to his side, his chest heaved unevenly. He dared to stare directly into her glittery eyes. Please don't leave me. Please be mine. His anger had morphed from red to white and in a sudden daring, wrath induced moment. Jamil reached out and grabbed (y/n), pulling her closer as he lifted his arm up gluing her in place.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Why do you have to be so goddam blind? Why can't you see that I'm the one you're supposed to end up with! I'm the one that does every freaking thing for you! But you run away into Kalim's arms just so he can play with you tonight and leave you broken in the morning! Who do I need to be for you to love me! Just fucking tell me already!"

Jamil let out huff after huffing of angry breaths. His nails dug into (y/n)'s skin, tearing the flesh, leaving imprints of his long nails. The crowd never once stopped their dancing, never once turned to the young boy and girl by the drink table. Never once did anyone hear Jamil's screams of frustration and pain. Nothing mattered when it was about Jamil, nothing would ever matter about him.

Unfazed by his angry, frantic screams, (y/n) looked up, eyes bearing into Jamil's. With a forceful tug, she freed her arm from his weakening grasp. "You really want to know Jamil? Do you desperately want to know who you have to be? Kalim! You have to be Kalim!" her own voice was breaking, tearing at the seams as she choked out the last words.

"What so damn special about him..." tears droplets formed in the corner of Jamil's eyes. His body started to shake as he tried all so hard to stop the tears from flowing. (Y/n) didn't answer she just glared "The drinks Jamil" there was a certain edge in her voice, the same edge every one of those petty, useless noblemen had used with him their entire lives.

Grinding his teeth Jamil turned to the drink's bar. Expertly he began mixing juices and liquids, something sweet with a hint of mango and pomegranate seeds. As he spared a look behind his shoulder Jamil saw (y/n) waving at Kalim. Her attention had floated back to the white-haired prince. A devilish smirk slithered across the black-haired man's face. Above both drinks, he waved his hands. Chanting an old spell that he read about when researching the great sand sorcerer's magic. Tiny green droplets merged from his fingertips and fell into the plastic cups.

"Here," he trusted both cups into (y/n)'s hands. Angerly the girl marched away with both cups in hand. At about halfway from where she had departed, (y/n) steely brought one of the cups up her lips and took a small gulp from the liquid inside.

One step

Two steps

Three st--

The cups crashed into the floor, their contents bleeding into the hardwood floor. (y/n)'s knees smashed onto the floor, a crackling noise following close behind, the rest of her body tumbled forward. collapsing in the middle of the dance floor. Slowly Jamil slithered forward, picking (y/n) up bridal style and leaving the party with her unconscious corps.

Everything felt warm and sticky, the world kept turning, never stopping. Poor (y/n) could feel the way her brain hammered against her head. "What the-" as she rolled to her eyes she came face to face with a smirking Jmail. She watched as he tapped on something that seemed to be separating the two of them. "Let me out!" the feeble girl screamed. Her throat bleeds with every word, every threat. Again Jamil tapped on the class. "Do you remember that story of how the sand sorcerer kept the princess in an hour class as he fought that evil thief, who tried to trick the simple-minded princess? Turns out the hourglass cage is very easy to imitate, just need the right incantation. Ancient incantations are my especially after all." Jamil learned his arms and head against the hourglass, his grey eyes held a sort of love as he stared at (y/n) like a cobra would stare at it's chosen, mate.

"I saved you (y/n) you have to believe me. Kalim would just though you away after one night, you would have been heartbroken devastated! You wouldn't have been you nay longer. After all, there are things much worst than death~"

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thezestywalru · 4 years

Text

Finally, the heart of ice shatters

Warning: angsty af

Damian Wayne was cold. He froze nearly everyone out, only letting a few people in the fortress that was his heart to see the cracks that had been there since he was younger. One of these people was Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

They were most definitely opposites in personality. Marinette was sweeter than confectioners sugar, while Damian barely showed the smallest hint of a smile.

They had met in Paris two years before, at age 15, when Marinette had fallen into him, consquently knocking them into the famed Andre’s cart. They’d blustered and blushed as belongings were sorted and blame was laid. He quickly paid the owner of the cart, briskly apologizing in immaculate French.

“Er, em, M-Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” The girl with the sweet blue eyes and doll-like face had extended her hand. Damian feigned ignorance at the time, and pretended he didn’t see the olive branch. Raising a carefully manicured eyebrow- he’d spent over an hour in the bathroom to get them just right- he had offered his arm to her, feeling the seam of the arm pressing into his skin.

“I do believe that you owe me a tour.... Miss Dupain Cheng, was it?” She had blushed again, biting the inside of her cheek and twisting her mouth. Damian checked his watch, noting the time and allotting two hours to spend walking around the city before he had to report back to the base.

Shocked, Damian had looked at the girl who took his arm, blushing madly. Was that all she did? She seemed to fluster easily. Appearing to gather her wits, Miss Dupain-Cheng has dragged him along-he pretended not to eventually enjoy her rambling monologues of what she has experienced at each landmark- and soon, the two hours were gone. Damian kissed her hand, taking malicious glee in the pretty flush that spread over her cheeks. They quickly exchanged contact information, with Marinette promising to be the first to reach out.

And so, the two friends kept in contact through the next two treacherous years. They both finally grew, Marinette peaking at 5’2” and Damian only 5 inches taller at 5’7”. They each made different and new friends, affecting each other in some large and some small ways.

Damian taught Marinette how to advocate for herself, as well as different martial arts that he had learned with the league. Marinette urged her friend to open up more to his siblings, helping Dick as Damian became more experienced with compassion and empathy.

Sure, they never revealed their identities to each other, but they were close nonetheless. Each would have trusted the other with their life.

Slowly but surely, Damian began to gain feelings for his friend. He wasn’t quite sure if Dick’s assumption about him having a crush on her was correct at first, but now he was certain. She was Marinette: bumbling, blushing, beautiful Marinette.

So, two days before her seventeenth birthday, Damian asked his father for permission to visit Paris. Bruce granted it, quite bewildered when all of his sons piled on- though Jason and Tim just wanted Damian out of the mansion, they really had no idea why he wanted to go. So Damian went, excitedly discussing with an oblivious Marinette her plans for her birthday.

Damian pulled up outside of her family’s bakery the day of, grinning larger than he had ever before. They’d videochatted before, but neither had visted Paris or Gotham since they’d met. He had brought a single red rose from a local market, putting up with the plump lady behind the counter pinching his cheek and calling him handsome. It didn’t matter, because he was finally going to tell her.

A crow gave a sorrowful cry above his head, but he ignored the warning. Picking off the thorns from the stem, he rolled the rose around in his fingers, finally gathering his courage- ‘shake it off. You’re a Wayne!’- and so, he entered the bakery. It was quite crowded, so he looked around for any clues as to how he could get upstairs. As he was peering around, a small woman who bore a startling resemblance to the girl who had won his heart tapped on his shoulder.

“Can I help you?”

“My apologizes, madame.” Damian apologized smoothly, nodding his head in a small bow. “I’m a friend of Marinette’s and I was hoping I could wish her a happy birthday.”

Marinette’s mother bit the inside of her cheek, just like her daughter had years before. Looking up the stairs, she twisted her mouth in indecision.

“How do you know her?” She asked finally, though she hesitated.

“I’m Damian. We’re.... pen pals.” She cocked her head.

“She’s never mentioned an American pen pal.” Damian should have taken that as a sign, but he was too excited. Sabine recognized the look in his eye and again, glanced up at the stairs. Turning back to the clearly enthusiastic young American, she gestured up the stairs and moved out of the way.

“Merci, Madame.” Damian quickly walked up the stairs, cradling the head of the rose like a flute of champagne. Finally, he reached the trapdoor that she had described so many times. Slowly, he pushed up against the door, hearing it creak as the old wood groaned at his touch.

“Papá!” He heard Marinette’s voice cry. “We’re busy!” He poked his head up with a grin that was as sharp as a knife.

“Happy b-“ Damian ceased moving, ceased loving, ceased living as he took in the scene before him. There was a boy next to her. No, not next to her. Almost on top. She had a hand in his blond hair, with swollen lips and wild eyes that seemed to accuse him of intruding in a private moment.

Clearly, the blond was Adrien Agreste, Marinette’s formerly unrequited love. Damian felt his heart shatter in his throat, his face turn white, and the pounding of blood filling his ears as he tuned everything out, so he threw the rose into her room and retreated. The trapdoor closed behind him.

“Who was that, Princess?” He heard the boy say.

“My friend Damian from America!” She sounded worried. Why? He wasn’t worth it.

“He can wait.” There was a small bit of giggling before they continued. Damian ran down the stairs, feeling the burn of tears pricking his eyes. Nodding sadly to her mother, he tore out of the shoppe.

As he walked back to his hotel, Damian tried not to blame himself. Of course she would choose Adrien. He was a model, able to commiserate about the hardships of the fashion world. Agreste was perfect for her- they would compliment each other well.

He was just a mess, a lowly demon, just like his brothers always said. How could he compare to Adrien Agreste, blond supermodel with a gorgeous Mediterranean tan and warmer green eyes than Damian could ever hope for.

Damian glanced behind him, not daring to hope that she was running behind him to accept his rose and his declaration of love. How could he have thought that a singular small rose would be more than what Adrien could give her? She deserved the world.

Entering the ‘Le Grand Paris’ elevator, he glumly picked his phone out of his pocket, looking for any messages he might have missed, but found an empty screen and message box.

He didn’t matter, he realised. He didn’t matter to the person who mattered to him. Inhaling deeply, Damian rebuilt his walls of eyes and snow, opening the contact of the person he quite possibly loved the most and deleting it.

When Damian left that elevator, he was broken once more. However, on the outside, he appeared indifferent except for a singular tear that glistened in his right eye.

———————————————————————

Marinette giggling to herself as she blushed, tracing a finger over the photo of her and Adrien in a heart. This had quite possibly been the best birthday ever.

Her class had organized a small celebration, during which Adrien had taken her aside and blessed her with her first real kiss. They had decided to come back to her room so he could give her his gift in person and they might have gotten a bit carried away.

On top of that, her American best friend, Damian, was in Paris as well! She decided then and there to call him to ask when they could meet. The rose landed on her keyboard as Tikki sat down on the lip of her laptop screen and glared at her holder.

“What?” Marinette dreamily giggled, thinking of three kids and a hamster.

“Do you know what that means?”

“What?”

“A red rose means love and passion.” Tikki’s voice was flat and toneless.

“Don’t be silly! He just wanted to wish me a happy birthday!” She sniffed the flowery aroma before she pushed it into the vase that contained the flowers that Adrien had given her only a few hours before. (The sunflowers classed horribly with the red rose)

Marinette eagerly selected Damian’s contact and pressed the dial image. It rang a few times before leaving her with the harsh and monotone voicemail.

“You’ve reached the cell phone of Damian Wayne. Please state your name and leave a brisk message at the tone.”

“Hey, Dami!” She called. “I’m so sorry! Adrien and I just got caught up with each other. My friends set up a birthday party for me and I was really excited because they’d been working on it for a while! It was a surprise party too.” She blushed at the thought.

“Anyway, I was wondering how long you’re in Paris and if you’d like to grab lunch tomorrow? Please let me know! Bye!”

Picking up the rose, Marinette waited for an hour for him to respond. No messages, no calls, nothing. Two hours passed and she began pulling the petals off the rose.

Three hours passed, so she began tearing the discarded petals to shreds. Why wasn’t he responding? Taking a needle from her kit, Marinette began to hack at the stem.

Four hours passed and she began to yawn, her eyes drooping. Marinette fell asleep in the desk chair, waiting for a call from a broken hearted boy that would never come.

Tags:

@ozmav @g-arya @maribat-archive @maribat-central @maribat @damianette-is-life @artxyra @frownyalfred @department-of-depression @justcourttee @izzybellepenguin @nobodyfamousposts

#maribat #maribat au #damianette #damian wayne #damimari #angst #lmao oof #i live for the angst #good luck

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vannahfanfics · 4 years

Text

So Many Things

Category: General Fluff

Fandom: Atlantis- The Lost Empire

Characters: Kida

Kida’s toes kissed the mirror-smooth surface of the pond, causing little ripples to appear in the otherwise flat sheet of water with every tiny movement of her body. The dampness of the algae-coated rock seeped into the thick fabric of her clothes, keeping her body pleasantly cool as the humidity of the dense jungle trapped the volcanic heat in the artificial atmosphere. Her fingers hugged the stone edge of the cleft overlooking the idyllic cove nestled within the network of broad-leaved ferns and twisting green trees hugging the circumference of the lost city. Kida breathed in the fresh air, then sighed deeply. Blue eyes sad, she turned her face upward towards the vast stone dome that separated their city from the outside world.

[Matim,] she mourned quietly. So many thousands of years it had been, and yet, Kida missed her mother just as much as the day she had been swallowed by the light. Kida’s father had never explained what had occurred, at least no further than the ancestors had chosen her mother to protect their people from the great cataclysm. Kida supposed that she ought to consider it an owner on her mother’s part, to be fused with the spirit energy of her ancestors to see Atlantis through the greatest catastrophe of their lifetimes. Yet, the bitter child locked away inside the princess could not help but feel that she was robbed.

Kida exhaled again, hand curling over her heart. She always wondered if her mother could see her. Would she be proud of her? Kida dearly hoped so. She had strived endlessly to serve her people and bear the burden of royalty both proudly and properly. Yet, Kida knew in her heart that she was still painfully naïve and ignorant of many things.

Kida clicked her tongue against her front teeth as her eyes bored into the distant stone ceiling. So long it had been since they had seen the world above, so many thousands upon thousands of years. Kida wondered what had become of the planet. Did the great flood obliterate the entire world, transforming it into an endless ocean? Were the Atlanteans, secluded deep beneath the ocean bedrock, the only living creatures sequestered to land? Or had the human race evolved into something unrecognizable and strange? Kida wondered this, among many things pertaining to the world above the stone, quite often. Her young, spirited heart, despite how much she loved Atlantis and her people, craved the unknown. That was why Kida pushed the borders of patrols to their absolute limits, creeping forward day by day despite the hesitations of the other members of the guard. One day, Kida hoped, some strange miracle would be discovered on those ventures, something foreign and exciting and new.

[Is that selfish?] she asked aloud, though she knew her long-lost mother couldn’t answer. The Atlantean words dripped sorrowfully from her tongue in place of the mournful tears she could no longer shed. [I know that your sacrifice saved us from extinction, but…] She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she contemplated aloud. [I cannot help but admit this endless existence bores me.] Was that normal, to find complacency stifling? For her spirit to wither on the repetitive ins and outs of immortal life thriving away from the rest of the earth? In her heart, she felt that it was not so, but she still couldn’t help but feel guilty for entertaining such thoughts. Her father would surely remind her that their people are alive and thriving because of the secrecy, and searching for adventure or outsiders could only invite ruin.

And yet… Kida gazed longingly at the mist wafting through the stalactites clinging to the cavern roof, pretending that they were instead the white, fluffy clouds she vaguely remembered meandering across the clear blue sky. She had always wondered if they were like mist, incorporeal with water droplets bursting against her skin as she waded through it, or actually of solid form, soft and yielding. She’d never know now. With a small groan, Kida pushed her cheek into her hand. She’d gone and depressed herself. She tore her eyes away from the stone heavens to focus instead on the pond, trying to cheer herself up by observing a frog on a lily pad. It licked its glassy black-and-yellow eye, croaked, and leaped into the water to vanish from sight. Kida tutted, thinking it only par for the course for how the day was progressing.

The gentle rustling of ferns captured Kida’s attention. She turned to see a few of the other Atlantean guards pressing through the jungle, holding their elongated, wood-carved, grass-frond-covered masks at their sides.

[Princess,] one of them addressed her with a polite dip of his head. He gestured with his spear into the tangles of ferns and vines and bushes. [We are going to patrol the perimeter. Would you like to join us?] Kida nodded in affirmation and stood, retrieving her own spear and throwing her mask over her face. She tromped past them to lead the patrol party into the denseness of the jungle, trekking confidently over thin, well-worn intertwined paths to the edge of the city. With every step she took, the distant cascading of several waterfalls grew in volume, until it filled the air with a consistent, steady gushing. They strode along one of the many rivers carving through the jungle to the edge of their world, where the water would spill over the precipice to cascade down into the dizzying chasm to disappear into the thick sheet of water vapor.

Kida’s sure feet expertly navigated over the protruding tree roots, checking the edge of the void for any signs of concerning erosion. The watery atmosphere slowly ate away at the rock, chipping it away in small places. In several instances, large chunks of the landscape had just caved in, sliding into the abyss to leave a gaping hole, like a giant had taken a bite out of the platformed city. The Atlanteans had reinforced the edges of the chasm with concrete, but even that was only temporary; as time pressed on, the water wormed its way into the pores to spread cracks and fissures across the light gray stone constructs.

Thankfully, Kida didn’t note any alarming progression of the erosion. They tracked a swift, purposeful path to what used to be the entrance of their city, which was now a collection of large stony steppes budded with large ferns and a few small shrubby trees. Kida froze when a strange noise greeted her ears, and she quickly raised a hand to order the small scouting party to stop. Kida narrowed her eyes behind the mask when she recognized the sounds as distinctly human.

[But how can that be?] She wondered aloud, crawly forward on all fours to lower a broad purple leaf. Several yards away, a medium-sized group of very distinct people were talking animatedly about something. Kida found herself drawn to the skinny, gangly young man with orange-brown hair and spectacles framing his eyes. Kida cocked her head to the side slightly as she regarded him, strangely fascinated by him.

Kida jumped slightly as her fellow Atlanteans crouched down beside her and whispered feverishly, asking her what she intended to do. As fascinating as the newcomers- the answers to her prayers, really- were, she had to apprehend them before they could get into too much trouble in this new and strange land. Kida instructed the group as to how to proceed, and then, in a flash, they had the strangers surrounded.

[Who are you strangers and where did you come from?] she demanded while brandishing her spear, pouring more malice into her tone than she felt.

Someone shoved the skinny boy forward. He fumbled with a small, leather-bound journal and stammered a few incoherent words. Kida cocked her head slightly, watching as he struggled to regain his composure before clearing his throat. Kida’s eyes blew wide behind the carved wood as he timidly uttered a few broken phrases in Atlantean.

[Who... are you strangers and where... do you come from?]

[He speaks our language?] She wondered incredulously, eyes widening behind the mask. How would a surface-dweller have any knowledge of their ancient, lost culture? The man jerked and flipped open the book to hastily flip through the pages, stumbling over his words. Kida slowly lowered her spear, growing increasingly intrigued. A few enunciations and pronunciations were off, but she could largely understand what he was saying. Making a hasty decision, she removed her mask, watching as the man’s eyes widened and a blush blossomed on his cheeks.

[Your manner of speech is strange to me,] she told him with a curious look. The man grabbed his forehead as he struggled to retrieve the proper words, hand whirling in unconscious gestures as he forced out, [I… travel… friend!] Kida repeated his words softly, a bit confused as she struggled to understand him. Inhaling deeply, he suddenly crossed his arms and flashed her a smile. He suddenly switched to a strange dialect, yet one Kida could understand perfectly.

[So, my friend, I am a traveler!] He clarified with raised eyebrows.

[You speak the language of the Romans!] she realized with an almost accusatory look, fascinated by the sudden switch. Grinning now that he was finally getting somewhere, he keened while leaning forward, “Parlez-vous français?” Kida smiled amusedly and agreed with an impressed, “Oui, monsieur!” The others standing behind the linguist watched with various degrees of shock and confusion as the two communicated. Finally, the man exhaled satisfactorily.

“We’re friendly travelers,” he explained with a hand splayed graciously over his small chest. “We’ve come from the surface world.” Behind her, her guards exchanged galvanized but concerned whispers. Kida ignored them, enthralled at the golden opportunity she’d literally stumbled upon. I can finally learn everything about the surface world! She thought, automatically switching to English as the group began introducing themselves. By matter of protocol, Kida would have to deliver them to her father, the King; she would take all the time she had to squeeze as much information as she could out of them.

“Come with me,” she addressed them with a smile. “I will take you to my home. Please, follow us,” she said, gesturing into the brush with her spear. The others led the way, while Kida fell in step with them at a small distance, absorbing the peculiarities of their persons with bright, glimmering blue eyes.

Matim, she thought with a quick glance up at the dome. There are so many things I have yet to learn, but… I think after today, I shall be a little less ignorant, no?

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

Tag List: @deliathedork

#kida #atlantis #atlantis the lost empire #atlantis: the lost empire

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writingformymentalhealth · 3 years

Text

So I had this thought in my head about some arranged Marriage thingy with the Black brothers and I started writing it so if you like both brothers please read, and I would love some feedback

——-

Josephine Fawley or as her brother liked to call her the tomboy Princess had a striking romance with Hogwarts very own Pureblood rebel Sirius Black.

Sadly her parents deemed his Brother the so called Slytherin Prince as a better fit and arranged a marriage with the younger Black

Masterlist

Tw: arranged Marriage, abuse, bad parents

Josephine Fawley knew she was in trouble as soon as she slid out of the elegant leather saddle of her beautiful white horse, seeing her fuming brother next to the house’s own stable.

“Where the hell were you?” Her twin brother asked, his green eyes that were so identical to hers glaring at her accusingly.

“Quentin -“

“No, Joey, Mum is throwing a tantrum. The ball starts in two hours.”

“Better get going then”, she said, throwing her brother a cheeky smile.

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll take Stormy.” He grumbled, taking the reins out of her hand and letting her rush into the house.

“Where were you? You will never look presentable in time.” Cordelia Fawley - charming as always, greeted her daughter.

“Sorry Mother, I didn’t know you wanted me to get ready so early.” She gave her mother her best innocent puppy eyes, and Cordelia’s facial features softened immediately. “Just hurry.”

She saluted playfully before sprinting up the spiral staircase into her room, hearing her Mother mumble something about running, being unladylike under her breath.

Josephine quickly showered and washed her hair, drying and styling it with magic - the benefits of being a witch.

She threw on less makeup than her Mother would want, slipping into her dress with ease and smiled at her reflection. The red satin material hugged her figure perfectly and she hoped giddily that her boyfriend wouldn’t be able to take his eyes off her. Even though Sirius and she both visited Hogwarts and practically lived together all year round, she missed him dearly after a week of not seeing him.

Her brother always said it was because they were friends before they were lovers, attached to the hip since the age of 9 meeting at their first pureblood ball, the parents being delighted about the two children of high-ranking families forming a connection.

Things had changed since then, Joey’s parents who always secretly preferred the younger Black Brother - Regulus being proven right in their fears as Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor, bringing shame upon his family.

A year later Josephine was also sorted into Gryffindor and word on the street said Sirius Black corrupted the younger girl as in the same year her brother was sorted into Ravenclaw and Regulus Black, to the relief of his family, was sorted into Slytherin.

But much to her parents’ dismay, Josephine never really bonded with Regulus, despite them sharing lots of classes. She always found herself spending all her free time with Sirius and after they became official, the couple never really told their parents out of fear of the consequences.

Joey knew her parents would be rather disappointed, and although no child wanted to disappoint their parents, she wasn’t really scared of that but it was a well-known fact that Walburga Black believed in physical punishment and she didn’t want to put Sirius through that.

The voice of her mother echoing up the staircase interrupted her thoughts and with one last glance in the mirror Joey went down the stairs of the antique building, resisting the urge to jump them down as usual, trying to look elegant to please her mother.

“Josephine, you look ravishing.” Her Mother said, proudly stretching out her hand so they could Apparate while her father stoic as always already grabbed her brother’s hand.

With a loud plop, they landed in front of the Black Mansion, in which the ball would be located.

Inside, classical piano music was playing in the background, overshadowed by snotty laughter and evil talks.

“Josephine!” The airy voice of Narcissa Black - Sirius’ cousin echoed through the room.

“Cissy!” She embraced the unfairly pretty girl in a hug, Narcissa and her had known each other since the age of four as they both took Ballet classes till Joey decided she’d rather spend her time learning horseback riding like her brother, holding her breath till her parents obliqued not wanting their only daughter to turn blue.

Her brother nodded to the girl, his demeanor being unreadable for most, but Joey saw the tips of his ears turning a dark shade of crimson.

“Nice to see you, Quentin. I gotta go back to Lucius though.”

“Are your parents still holding on to the idea of an arranged marriage?”

“Yeah but I’m really glad it is with Lucius, we are perfect for each other.” Narcissa said, a dreamy look in her eyes. Joey nodded, faking understanding, resisting the urge to ask Narcissa when exactly she had gone mad, while Quentin just scoffed.

“Lucius treats her like shit, he is abusive.” Her brother murmured in her ear after the beautiful blonde was gone.

“I know that, and you know that, but I gave up on telling her that. Besides, maybe in this case ignorance is bliss.”

“What do you mean?”

“They will make her marry him anyway, maybe this way it will be less painful for her.”

Her brother wrinkled his nose in disgust, earning a sympathetic hand squeeze from Joey.

“Why are pureblood families even so obsessed with arranged marriages?”

“They all want to climb the social pureblood ladder.” Joey shrugged.

“That’s stupid. And even worse is using your children for your stupid desires.”

Josephine knew, her brother was about to go on one of his infamous rants and her eyes subconsciously started scanning the room for the familiar mob of black hair, which she found - well, almost.

“Josephine, Quentin.” The figure greeted, and Joey was once again reminded how much Regulus Black resembled his older brother.

“Have you seen Sirius?” she asked the boy, skipping the formalities.

“What she meant to say was, hello nice to meet you here.” Her brother said dryly, and a smirk tugged on the younger Black boys’ lips.

“I too enjoy your presence here,” Regulus said, looking at her brother. “And no I haven’t seen him, but knowing him he is probably hiding in his room.”

“Then I’ll better go look for him.” she answered, waving a goodbye at the two boys as she slowly went up the stairs, her legs automatically finding their way to Sirius’ room. In any other situation she might have felt guilty for leaving her brother alone with the quite intimidating Regulus Black, but the anticipation of meeting Sirius overshadowed everything.

She entered the room boldly, not bothering with knocking, her gaze instantly settling on Sirius’ back.

“What the-?” The boy turned around. Anger contoured his face, and he looked like a dog ready to attack an intruder before his stormy grey eyes met hers, instantly softening.

“Joey?”

“Who else would dare to enter Sirius Black’s room uninvited?”

“You have no idea.” He muttered, taking a few steps towards the girl, minimizing their distance, and just now Joey’s eyes trailed down his body, noticing that his dress shirt still was unbuttoned, exposing blue and purple marks in the form of knuckles all over his skin.

“Siri.” She whispered, trailing her hands softly over his bruised skin, making him wince.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Did your parents do this?” She looked into his stormy grey eyes, her hands still trailing over his naked skin, leaving goosebumps everywhere.

“My Father to be exact, my Mother is more of a Cruciatus fan lately.” He said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood but just receiving a horrified look in response.

“Sirius-“

He cut her off, pressing his lips on hers softly, but Joey felt the neediness in the kiss, the need to feel that he was still loved, that everything was going to be okay and the girl gave him just that, she grounded him.

Slowly, she buttoned up his shirt, careful not to startle him or break the kiss, but as soon as she buttoned up the shirt halfway, he broke the kiss pouting at her. “You know some girlfriends unbutton their boyfriend’s shirt instead of buttoning it up.”

“Well, you always tell me I’m special,” she said, grinning up at him.

He pulled her back into a kiss, a more heated one this time, slowly pushing her in the direction of his bed, clearly trying to distract the girl from the fact that they were supposed to be downstairs with the other guests.

“Siri, if our parents find us here instead of downstairs at the -” he sucked on her neck making her forget what she was going to say.

“What did you want to say?” He whispered in her ear, gently placing kisses down her neck, making her body shiver in anticipation. He smiled boyishly, loving the effect he had on the girl.

“I hate you.” She mumbled, while tilting her head to give him better access to her neck.

“You love me.”

Her head rested comfortably on Sirius’ chest as they waltzed through the ballroom.

“How’s your brother?” Sirius asked softly while dancing, not missing a single beat, and Joey suddenly felt thankful that she told him about her brother not having to carry the burden on her own anymore.

Her brother was ill, Depression, the muggle doctors called it and Sirius was the only person, besides Joey and her family, that knew about it.

“He’s on muggle medication now, that helps a lot.”

“Your parents approve of that?”

“They aren’t as anti muggle as yours are,” she reminded him and she felt his body tense under her hands, “besides they don’t want him to die.” She mumbled, and Sirius pulled her closer, kissing her temple softly.

“How are things with Regulus?” She asked, knowing the complicated relationship the siblings shared.

“It just makes me angry that he is stupid enough to believe my parents’ blood superiority complex. So we are barely civil.”

“I’m sorry. I know you love him.”

“It doesn’t matter.” the boy’s lips formed a thin line. “he thinks I am a disgrace to the Black family, just like my parents.”

“Sirius Orion Black!”

“Speaking of the devil,” Sirius muttered, turning his head to Walburga.

“I have some people that you need to meet.” The woman sneered before turning her face to Joey, a sickly sweet smile appearing on the woman’s face.

“Josephine, how nice to see you!”

“The pleasure is mine.”

“I’ll just burrow Sirius for a few minutes, alright?” The woman asked, not waiting for an answer before dragging Sirius away.

Joey sighed, making her way to the bar, hoping that alcohol would make the people here more interesting and less intimidating.

She was on her second glass as a charming-looking boy approached her politely, asking for a dance. Not having anything better to do, and intrigued by the unknown face she accepted and surprisingly found herself actually enjoying herself.

Edward Bones was indeed a pleasant dance partner, lightly chatting about his love for chocolate cake and seeming genuinely curious when he asked the girl about her interests.

The conversation was abruptly interrupted as no other than Sirius Black himself pulled Joey away from the boy. “Excuse me, mind if I cut in?”

Sirius didn’t wait for an answer, yanking Joey away from Edgar’s grasp and spinning her into his arms gracefully.

Sirius glared around as if he wanted to challenge the bystanders to cut in, but they all knew better than to mess with a Black, hesitantly going back to their conversations although still eyeing the boy suspiciously.

Joey wanted to turn around to apologize to Edgar, but he was gone.

Sirius’ darkened eyes look straight at Joey. “I can’t stand these people always trying to touch you.”

“We were just dancing, Darling”

“Yes, I know that. But he had no business being so close to you and making you laugh and giving you that weird flirty look” Sirius tugged the girl closer. “You’re mine.” Sirius presses his forehead against Joey’s, gently caressing her lips with his thumb. His lips found their way down to hers feverish eliminating any distance between them.

“I thought we didn’t want these people to know.” Joey said, gesturing around the party, needing all her self-control to sound composed even though the boy was leaving love marks all over her neck making her insides melt like chocolate.

He looked at her, his stormy eyes resting on her green ones.

“In one and a half years you will be out of school and we can get married so fuck what they think.”

“You want to get married right after school?”

Sirius looked taken aback, gently caressing the silver ring on Joey’s hand. “I didn’t give you that promise ring just for show, you know? I meant what I said, I know you are the one and I know I want to spend the rest of my life with you.“

They both looked at the ring for a few moments, remembering the day he gave her that ring, at a bench in a muggle park underneath a cherry blossom tree.

“But if you want to wait-“

“No. I love you. I want that too.” She said, never being so sure about something in her entire life.

“I love you too Josephine, soon to be Black.”

Part 2

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