#zain writes
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✮ ↳ All Eyes On Me ↰
♡ yandere! actor x gn reader pt 2♡
tw/cw: obsessive love, murder, mentions of blood, slight emotional manipulation
authors notes: this took me forever i'm sorryyyy editing is a bitch :( but I'm really proud of this one!! hope you'll like it too <3
"Why weren't you watching?" His voice is cold and filled with contempt as he glares at you, his nails digging into the skin of his palm.
"I-I was! Why wouldn't I watch, I've been backstage this whole ti-" Your voice is soft, trying to quell the fury in his gaze.
"Liar!" He steps closer to you, causing you to back away. He takes a deep breath before speaking again. "You weren't watching. When I was offstage, I looked for you behind the curtains. But you were never there." He's now right in front of you, grabbing the door handle and slamming it shut. "All those training sessions, all those late nights memorizing my lines till it felt like my head was going to burst, all the blood, sweat and tears- It was all for you!" His breathing is heavy and his voice is a low growl, his light tan skin flushed with anger.
"Aurelius, I...I had no idea..." Your voice trails off, eyes gazing into his with regret. "But, I did watch! It's just that near the end I got a phone call, so I had to leave the theatre to pick it up and I got distracted!"
"I don't need your excuses." He spat, glaring down at you. "I understand. I get that I'm just another actor you have to work with; you're just here for the paycheck. And that's fine!" He backs up, a deranged smile on his face. "But could you at least pretend that you care? Just a bit?"
"I do care! why wouldn't I care, I've been working with you on this for months! Please, no need to get so upset." Your words cut through him like a knife, and his eyes widen with disbelief.
"'No need to get so upset'?! How can you even say that right now?! I've put so many hours into this, spent so much time on this all for your approval, and when the day finally comes you don't even stay to watch?! I'm not just upset, I'm-" he takes a deep breath, shaking slightly. "Heartbroken."
"Aurelius, please, listen to me. The reason why I couldn't stay is because I got a call from my best friend, and they sounded really upset, so I needed to go help them... I'm sorry."
He turns towards you, a look of cold, pure, disbelief on his face. His eyes widen as he mutters something under his breath. The room is so quiet that even though he whispered, you could hear every word clearly.
"You missed my show...for someone else?" He takes a step back. "You missed my show...because someone told you to?" The silence is thick between the two of you, the same deranged smile appearing on his face. He chuckles, his laughter becoming louder and more insane. "Are you serious?! After all that time we spent working, you left me for your friend?!" Tears roll down his face, smearing his makeup. He stumbles back into the sound table and clutches onto it while trying to regain his composure.
"Auri, you have to understand! It was an emergency, I had no other choice!" The desperation in your voice is evident, you need him to realize the severity of the situation. You walk up to him and hesitantly place a hand on his shoulder. Your breath hitches in your throat when he smacks your hand away, looking up at you through the gaps in his fingers over his eyes.
"Don't," His voice is shaky, yet still cold and unforgiving. "Don't touch me. You don't deserve to after what you've done. I know how much I mean to you now, I don't need your lame explanations." He straightens up before walking out the door, standing in the frame for a second. "Bandaids don't fix bullet holes." He departs with a swish of his hair, leaving you standing alone in the now deathly quiet sound booth.
He grabs his stuff, slipping a small object into his bag as he hurriedly exits the theatre, wiping off his smudged makeup. He doesn't even take the time to change out of his costume, his brain is too panicked to even think about anything except what you said.
"Excuse me, you work with y/n right?" A person with a panicked expression walks up to him, biting their nails worriedly. His angry expression immediately changes to one of calmness.
"Yes, I do. why do you ask?" He puts on his signature winning smile as he bends down to their height.
"Well, I was with them earlier when they said they had to leave, and they didn't even tell me where before they just left! I know they work here, so I was wondering if you've seen them?" Your friend seems really troubled at your sudden disappearance, but Aurelius had other things on his mind.
"Actually, I think I have an idea of where they might be. Follow me!" His charming disposition and comfortable aura would make anyone follow him without question, including your friend. They started to walk together, the silence between them tense because of the worry that accompanied it. He lead them up and down roads, into busy lanes and quiet walkways. Eventually, they landed in front of a large forest.
"Wait... this is their favourite forest! You're a genius, I don't know why I didn't think to come here sooner!" Aurelius looked at your friend with exquisitely veiled contempt, their eyes shining with hope disgusting him.
"Oh, really?" He feigns surprise, not wanting to give away his true intentions just yet. "I didn't know! I just remember seeing them come here one time after work, I didn't know it was their favourite." He was lying. He knew everything about you. Your coffee order, the route you took home after work every day, the position in which you slept, everything. "Shall we head in?" He asked politely, extending a hand toward them. They nodded, walking into the dimly lit forest.
"I don't think I got your name, sorry."
He scoffs inwardly, berating them in his mind. "How do you not know my name? Me, the Aurelius Yavuz? You should be able to tell from one glance alone!" He thought, but he responded kindly regardless. "It's Aurelius. Aurelius Yavuz. And you?"
"Carmen! It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Yavus!" The way your friend sounds so cheerful disgusts him.
"Likewise," he mumbles, his voice sounding slightly pompous from their ignorance of his status. He brings their attention elsewhere, just wanting to get this whole ordeal over and done with as soon as possible. "I think I heard a noise over that way, would you like to check it out?" He points towards a dark corner of the forest with a small clearing in the middle.
"That looks like their hiding spot...yes, I think they might be there! quick!" Carmen starts to run into the thicket of trees, leaving Aurelius behind. In the dim light of the evening sun peeking through the trees, his eyes glow with a menacing aura. A confident smirk makes its way onto his face as he follows behind them. He pulls a small knife out of his bag, the shining metal glinting in the light.
"Aurelius...they're...not here..." Carmen's disappointed voice emanates through the forest. He slowly walks toward them, the satisfied look on his face making him seem even more insane than before.
"Aww, now isn't that a shame~?" He steps even closer, now almost nose-to-nose with them. "Don't worry," He brings his arm behind their shoulder, placing his hand right behind their neck. "You won't have to even think about them anymore." In a flash, Carmen collapses to the ground, the once pristine silver knife now tainted with potent red sin.
He dusts off his hand, wiping the blood on the knife onto the backside of his costume. He scoffs as he looks down onto the now still body of your beloved friend, kicking their body into the bushes beside him. He walks away and out of the forest, taking the same path you always take to your residence. He stops in front of your house, knocking on the door. He takes a deep breath and forcefully makes his eyes look teary, needing every tactic he knows to make you believe him. You open the door, stepping back when you see him.
"Aurelius, why are you-"
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to lash out at you like that. I just...was so upset, I thought this show meant something to you! But, I understand that you have your priorities, so I'm not mad anymore. Forgive me?" He gazes into your eyes, false tears now pooling at the corners of his eyes.
"Oh, Auri..." You embrace him tightly, crying into his chest. "I'm so sorry! I should've stayed, I should've watched, I didn't mean to hurt you that bad, I'm sorry!" You can't see his face as you're sobbing into his shirt, not able to see the knowing smirk on his lips. He pats your head kindly, cooing at you to help you calm down.
"Hey, hey, don't cry... it's okay now. Everything's been taken care of, now it's just you," he kisses the top of your head, rubbing soothing circles into his back as a sharp glint flashes through his eyes.
"and me."
taglist!! @lasagna-goob @izizzl @skylark144 @cyphertryagain
#zain>>works#tw yandere#tw obsessive love#tw murder#tw blood ment#yandere blog#yandere writing#soft yandere#yandere x you#yandere#yandere oc#yandere x reader#yandere oc x reader#oc x reader
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"She hoped that whatever he was doing, he would learn to be happy again. If
that meant waiting for her,
waiting for the trial, or if that meant waiting to find someone else, Pip would
understand. It broke her heart to think
of him doing that crooked smile for anyone else, making up new nicknames,
new invisible ways of saying “I love
you,” but that was his choice. All Pip wanted to know was that he was
happy, that there was good in his life again,
that was all. Her freedom for his, and it was a choice she would make over
and over again.
And if he did wait, if he did wait for her and the verdict went their way, Pip
would work every day to be the
kind of person who deserved Ravi Singh"
#most fav lines from the entire book#how can i not bawl my eyes out each time i read this#how can someone even write these kinda lines ?????????#a good girls guide to murder#agggtm#ravi singh#pip fitz amobi#pipravi#sal singh#holly jackson#pippa fitz amobi#emma myers#zain iqbal
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I started to write this post almost a month ago, but some bad stuff happened and I was… really not okay. But I'm getting better, kind of, so here are some (a bit angsty) night thoughts for you.
I share the fandom headcanon that Jason's father was not, you know, exactly the "father of the year" type. So, when Jason and Salim start to live together (because, as we all know, that's how the game ended, that's canon, right?), Jason sometimes becomes… overprotective of Zain.
He doesn't even realize that. It's just small things. Taking the blame for the glass that Zain accidentally broke. Trying to convince Salim that in Zain's age it's totally normal to come home late and a bit drunk, even if Salim is understanding and not actually angry. Stressing out when Salim and Zain argue, even if they both mean it as a joke. Stuff like that.
Jason doesn't realize that's the thing. Salim and Zain do.
"You know I love my son, right?" Salim asks one night.
"Yeah, I noticed,” Jason chuckles. “You've said that, like, a million times in the first hour after I met you."
"And you know I will never hurt him."
"Yeah, you'll probably hurt yourself first. Why?"
“You seem to… protect him from me.”
“What?"
Salim can see that Jason genuinely doesn't understand what it's all about. Salim tells him about all those small moments, about his obvious nervousness — and Jason is visibly embarrassed.
"Do you want to… talk about it?" Salim says.
"I'd rather not."
"Okay. And it is fine, you know. It is kind of cute."
"Fuck off," Jason grumbles, rolling his eyes.
Salim just smiles and changes the subject.
It's Jason who brings it up again in a couple of days.
"About… me being overprotective."
"Yes?"
"I wanted to make it clear… it's not about you being a bad dad or anything. It's just…"
There's a long pause as he is trying to find the words. Salim is waiting patiently.
"I had a fucked-up childhood, alright?" Jason says finally. "And my father… I mean, he meant well, I guess, but I do still have a couple of scars. And… well," it gets really hard for him to say that, "I guess, l myself wanted to be… protected. And, I guess, it'll stick with me for the rest of my fucking life."
He stares at his hands as if it's the most interesting thing in the world. Salim doesn't interrupt.
"And about Zain, it's… what's the clever word, projecting or something? I'm projecting this stuff on him, probably. I mean, I don't know shit about psychology, but that's the thing, right? It's just… not easy to stay chill when you two start arguing. Even if I know that it's really alright."
He sighs as if it was physically hard for him to say. He seems relieved that it is finally put into words.
"So, yeah. You're a great dad, and Zain is far better than I was at his age. And I'll try not to do that shit you told me about. Sorry."
It's Salim now who is trying to find the words. Jason never really mentioned his childhood; Salim did not expect this.
Salim could never understand how it is possible for a father not to love his own kid. Salim is not an ideal dad, of course; but it feels impossible for him to hurt Zain. Even to think about hurting him.
"I did not know about your father," he says as calmly as he can, even if something inside him is furious. "I will try not to raise my voice when you are around."
"No, that's… fine." Jason shrugs. "You don't have to. I mean, it's your family, your rules, you are both fine with that, and I'm just intruding."
"Jason."
"Yeah."
"You are a part of the family too. Have you not noticed?"
Jason mumbles something unintelligible and moves closer on the couch. Salim puts his hand around Jason's shoulders.
"I love you," he says. "And Zain thinks of you as the cool dad. Or, at least, the cool big brother."
"Yeah, that's all I lived for," Jason grumbles sarcastically.
He is smiling — he just can't help it.
It's all going to be okay.
#also in my mind Jason totally helps Zain with his drug problem#because Jason knows how bad it can get#and has experience dealing with it#i would love to write a fanfic about it but i don't know shit about drugs#and drug/alcohol abuse is a very sensitive subject for me to do any research#so it's just a headcanon living in my head rent-free#jalim#jason kolchek#salim othman#zain othman#house of ashes#the dark pictures house of ashes
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prompt. @literare. “ you have never been like the others, and you never will be. ”
there's no helping the small smile that begins to form across her face. she feels almost foolish, noticing the giddiness that builds inside of her chest as she tries to shove it all down again. leave it to zain to make her feel as careless as she does now by saying almost nothing and everything. “ hm? ” she simply hums in question, hand moving to remove her headpiece: it was heavy, made of many diamonds and two emerald pieces at the front. very pretty, she'd say, if she wasn't the one wearing it. sometimes those pieces felt peaceful [ green being her family's main color ], at other times, it felt like an additional weight on her. as if she ought to show her family's pride in some way, since she's lost her wings ages ago. “ do you think so? ”
she already knows his answer to her question. only his answer, of course. and by the grace of all she stands for, he might as well be the sun. he's gentle and kind, far too sweet for her. and perhaps she only thinks so because of how she is not used to any of this at all, but he fits perfectly just where he is. she wants him here. “ sometimes i worry that i perhaps am just like them. ” she says, then. and usually, what she's about to say is something she can only think to herself, but she finds it easier with him: “ what if ... with all of the things i do to be so different from all of them, to make an actual impact with my people, leads to me being just like them? ” there's a start of a change, of course, but what happens when she can't continue leading as she does?
she sighs. she knows why she's thinking of these things. she's had a meeting with a few of the lords of narbarad and look what she's gotten herself into now. all she wants is to avoid thinking of it for a while. shams closes the last shred of distance between them, stepping further into zain's space, her fingers hesitating before reaching out to hide her face between the crook of his neck. the princess hopes he doesn't notice, but she almost pouts. she moves her fingers to gently trace a few lines across his back and she notices her heartbeat steadying again. “ i'm tired, zain. these lords sure do give me such a headache sometimes. ”
she stays still, not moving just yet, enjoying the little moment before she steps back, moving her hands to hold his. “ let's go make something to eat. i want to go away from here, just with you. ” her head tilts, eyes unmoving from his as the same smile from the start begins to come back.
#literare#literare / zain.#&̲. ¹ writing — and all this is metaphor.#&̲. ² main — lips of honey‚ eyes of fire.#feeling very insane rn allie
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send LOST for a scene from my muse's past in which they felt lost, literally or figuratively {Zaine}
He was supposed to protect her.
Zaine's axe and armor, Evienne's spells and social acumen. They were a matched set of opposites, a team that had traversed the realm for months now. That's how it worked.
On reflection, he really hadn't known her that long; less than a year. Yet everything they had gone through made it feel much longer, or at least more intense. They had shared their histories, their hopes, more than a few secrets.
Never a bed, though; as much as he'd come to love her, it was not in that way. And she was still mourning the loss of her spouse, besides. So fierce friends and comrades they were.
...They had been.
Zaine was going to tear Gaius van Baelsar into pieces.
"Hey," Yda said, wandering over to sit with him.
"Hey," he replied, taking a deep breath and sitting up. "You doing all right?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. How--"
"How about Papalymo? And Thancred?"
She frowned. "They're all right, Zaine. Everyone is."
Not everyone.
Before he could say more, she stuck her finger against his lips. "How are you?" she demanded to know, glimpses of her blue eyes through the mask showing her own sadness and resolve. She removed her finger.
Zaine slumped. "I keep feeling like I did everything wrong. Missed something, forgot something. If I'd been a little more on guard--and I know, I know that's not how it works, I know you all rushed cuz you only found out too late, but I--" He rested his head in his hands, clutching his hair.
"I feel like 'it's not your fault' won't help, huh?"
He huffed out a bitter laugh. "No." They were silent for a moment. "I know he targeted her as a caster, as a threat. Even if I had been in her place, even if I had been on guard. And I know...Evienne chose this, same as the rest of us, but it...Gods, this hurts."
"Of course it does," Yda replied softly. "It will for a long while."
He sat back now, leaning on the wall behind him, Yda watching. "If I knew anything of Eorzean etiquette as a boy, I forgot it. Evienne, though...she had impeccable manners. And took it upon herself to teach me better. My rough soldier ways grated on her lady's sensibilities." He smiled thinly. "I don't think I'd have made half as good an impression on all those people without her. And nevermind how many of her own heroics have been overlooked. It's not fair."
"A lot of things aren't," Yda said. "Minfilia's speaking to her sister, and her son. He's so little."
"Yeah," Zaine said. "Not much older than my sister was, when we lost our father. This kid's lost both his parents now and I don't...I feel like I should say something, but what? 'I was your mum's partner but failed to protect her from a Garlean bullet'?"
"Zaine, you can't say that."
"No, of course not, I just," he pinched his nose, trying to stay the renewed feeling of prickling heat in his eyes, threatening another deluge. "I don't know what to say. I don't know what to do. She would know; that's what she was good at! It's all her clever words and maneuvering that's made me seem a hero; people think I know what I'm doing, but I don't. And there's still so much happening, no time to sit here and wallow, but Sisters help me, I don't know how I'm going to do it without her!"
The tears fell despite his attempts; guilt and shame as much as grief pouring from him. Yda was silent, simply holding his hand, squeezing tightly, a reminder he had more friends and allies, more people to help, to rely on.
Just not his companion.
--
((As the 1.0 WoL, Zaine traveled around with a Path Companion, who I decided was a prim & proper elezen conjurer named Evienne. There is, however, a famous scene where Gaius shoots the Path Companion, and then fights Thancred, Y'shtola, Papalymo, and Yda. In Zaine's continuity, his Path Companion dies from the injuries inflicted in that incident.))
#final fantasy xiv#Lyn Writing#1.0#Legacy#Backstory#Path of the Twelve#Path Companion#Yda Hext#Zaine Striker#Grief
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i literally used one of my wip ideas for my creative writing class and changed the names so once my portfolio is submitted i’ll post it too LMAO
#jay heeseung jake and sunghoon?#no#harun musa yusuf and zain#yea i gave them muslim names#and what about it#piper’s writing rambles 📝
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Jalim Ghost town au
just me trying to understand and sort of flesh out the idea
Zain is dead, a ghost.
Jason gets shot a d dies for approximately 7 minutes.
Zain doesn't like Jason, but he can see him. Jason isn't fond of him either. But he won't go away.
Says he needs help. But Jason doesn't give him the time of day and tries to go about his business.
Eventually he gets to him.
"WHAT?!"
"It's my Baba."
In which Zain tells him how when he died his father lost the light in his eyes, lost his passion for life. He was his everything.
"So how'd you die?"
"Quickly." Was Zain's short answer.
"Alright, you're lucky I got a soft spot for kids."
"I'm Not a KID!" Jason only gave him raised brows.
"What do you want me to do about it? Your father, I mean."
And Zain sits down beside him.
"I don't know.... I just want him to be happy. That's all I wanted. I can't help him. All I can do is watch as he dies more and more each day."
Jason was tempted to throw an arm around the kid, comfort him in some way, but then again he'd just go right through him.
"I'll see what I can do but no promises ok?" And Zain lit up.
The next day.
"Alright kid. Where does he live? What's he look like?"
"Badra-Mandali! His name is Salim."
"Othman I'm assuming."
"Yes! He's your height, maybe a little taller. Black hair, dark brown eyes, a soft lovable face, pinchable cheeks, perfect hugger."
"Alright alright kid, I'm not gonna go around and start pinching cheeks and hugging every man I see."
"Not every man, just my Father. "
"He grows pumpkins..... He's let them die since then."
"should I ask around?"
"Wait what am I doing I can just show you. Follow me."
Jason watched as Zain comfortably walked out in front of him. Jason shifting his gaze to each person he passed.
"we're here."
"Now...what?"
"Knock I guess."
"And tell him what, that his dead son wants him to get a life?"
"Figure something out." Zain hissed.
So opens the door Salim looking tired and grey somehow.
Well, here goes nothing.
"Hey, I'm Jason." He starts awkwardly while Salim just gives him an odd look.
"I'm new."
"You just moved in?"
"Yeah." Jason answered lamely.
"You just moved in?"
"Uh, yes? What's the deal?"
"You're an American soldier."
"Marines. Is that a problem?" Jason started to puff up.
"Actually honorably discharged, took a bullet a few months back and I just haven't been the same." Christ! Why did i say that?
There was a silence for a moment.
"Come in, Jason."
"You like coffee?" Salim said already filling the water, and Jason saw Zain sit down at the table.
"Yes please, and thank you. I'll be honest I was a bit nervous to introduce myself."
"And why is that?" Salim hadn't looked over at Jason but Zain did with narrowed eyes.
"I didn't bring a pie."
And to everyones surprise Salim laughed.
Coffees now in hand they drank quietly, Salim looking only fairly less miserable.
"Well I thank ye kindly for the hospitality." Jason stepped out side, putting on an exaggerated cowboy accent. Thumbs in his belt before tipping his hat to Salim.
"I am sorry for not being a very sociable host, I haven't been feeling well." Salim leaned against the door and Jason's smile dropped.
"I'm sorry to hear that." Jason said with a rasp of emotion in his voice, knowing full well what Salim was talking about. The kid was standing right behind him.
"Although it may not have seemed like it, I did enjoy your company. Perhaps sometime soon you can bring over that pie and we can drink coffee again, neighbor."
"Right. Well thank you again, hope you feel better soon. Goodnight."
"It's barely past noon, Jason."
"Uh, yeah, well it'll be night at some point today." And Salim chuckled again at Jason.
"Goodnight then, cowboy."
"Fuck!" Jason cursed when he walked away enough.
"To which part?" Zain said beside him.
"I told him I live here."
"So I heard, tell me which one Is yours?" Zain mocked trying to find Jason's house.
"That's not funny. What am I gonna do?"
"You could you know."
"Could what?"
"Live here, there are plenty of free houses. That one right there looks good."
"Yeah right, Im Not about to go house hunting with some kid."
"It's only a few houses down from Baba's, you'd be close enough to keep an eye on him."
"It's a No, kid. Drop it."
"I'm worried about him."
"Yeah I've heard."
Jason scoffed.
"I think he's trying to kill himself. " and that stopped Jason in his tracks.
"What do you mean?"
"The only time he doesn't have that lifeless look in his eyes is when he sees something that could end it..... Jason, I don't want to watch him do that." And there where tears rolling down his cheeks.
"Fuck. Come here kid." He opened his arms and Zain rushed into and through them.
"Shit! Sorry, forgot." Jason grunted after sneezing.
"I hate this. I hate being dead. It's not fair! He doesn't deserve this!" Zain screamed.
"And what about you?"
"This isn't about me, it's about my Baba. So are you going to help him or what?!" There was fire in Zain's eyes.
"Yeah Kid. I'm going to help your Father. You said this one was good?" Jason pointed walking over to the empty house.
"How are you going to pay for it?" Zain sniffed, collecting himself.
"I got a fair bit of cash after my discharge, I can afford it."
So Jason moves in the next day after settling on a price with he seller, he doesn't have much but two boxes to move, and a cot.
"Hey man are you sure about this?"
"It's a bit late now, Nick. Already bought the place." Jason huffed struggling with one of the boxes before Nick took it from him.
"Thanks."
"Are you going to be ok by yourself I mean?"
"I ain't by myself." And Nick tilted his head in question.
Shit! Right, Nick can't see him.
"I've always got you don't I?"
"Always, semper Fi."
"Semper Fi.... Plus I met one of my new neighbors yesterday, nice guy."
"I'll leave yo to then. I gotta get back to camp." Nick threw a thumb over his shoulder.
"I get you. Go on then. And thanks for the help moving. "
"Lucky me you don't own a couch."
They waved and Jason turned back to his new home with a chuckle in his lips.
"That your friend?"
"What's it to ya?"
"He seems nice, I like him."
"So it's just me you don't like?" Jason piped only half serious.
"Is this really all your stuff?" Zain asked looking at the small pile of things by the door.
"Everything I own here. Guess since I'll be staying awhile might as well build it up some." He said rummaging through a box.
"You don't have any food or cooking supplies." Zain mentioned walking around.
"I've got a few days of food right here, should be enough until I get something for the kitchen."
"Like a pie?" Zain smirked at him.
"I'll have you know my mom and her mom and I'm assuming her mom before that all cooked our famous Kolchek Pie for friends and neighbors." Jason pointed a finger at the ghost.
"Famous how?"
"Locally, but I'll have you know that pie has won blue ribbons at every fair it's entered, even made the front page on the paper." Jason lifted his chin to him.
"Slow news day."
"Oh fuck off!"
"So are you going to make it for my father?"
"What?"
"The pie, are you going to make it for him like you said you would?" Zain rolled his eyes.
Jason only glared at the boy before putting his few belongings away.
That night there was a knock at his door.
"Zain, who is it?" Jason whispered out.
"I don't know, open the door a find out yourself." Zain snarked for all the teenager he was.
When he open the door it was Salim standing in the lamp light.
"Salim?"
"Oh, Jason."
"What are you doing here?"
"I made us something to eat, for dinner, to celebrate your new home!" Salim held out a pot he was holding with one kitchen glove and a rag.
"I don't have any silverware, or bowls." Jason said blankly.
"Ah, I could bring some for you to borrow..... Can I come in?"
"Shit, yes, sorry, come in." Jason stepped aside and held the door open for Salim.
"I'll be right back, my friend." Salim said after putting the pot down.
"Your dad, he a good cook?"
jason eyed the pot.
"The best." Zain wanted to growl
"I'll take your word for it then."
Salim came back with his arms full.
"Two cups, two forks, two spoons, bowls, plates. I trust they'll be well cared for?"
"On my honor." Jason held a hand over his heart and a hand in the air.
"That a Marine thing?"
"Sort of, it's more a me thing though."
"On your honor then." Salim eyed, before setting up the table.
"I gotta tell ya Salim, this is a lot better than the meal I had planned." Jason said happily as he ate.
"Which was?"
"Let me see " he leaned over to grab a flat box.
"This says chili Mac, and I've got a dry cracker."
"You were really going to eat that?"
"It's all I got for now. Then there you come like and Angel sent from heaven with your hands full of this delicious stew." Jason chirped giving a grin and a friendly wink.
"It's made from the last of my pumpkin harvest." Salim seemed to look through his spoon.
"Best damn pumpkin I've ever had, and that's sayin something."
"Why's that?"
"Not sure If you could tell, but I grew up in a small town of house wives and farmers. Too much time and too much food."
"I never would have guessed!" Salim laughed.
"It's true! And we had fairs a plenty! Nobody wanted their blue ribbons like us Kolcheks, and nobody had as many either!"
Notes:
(Jason's own father had hung himself when he was a teen, he never knew why, never thought that his father was unhappy. That's why when Zain said he was worried about Salim it changed his mind about helping. Jason was the one to find his father, he doesn't want the same thing to happen to Zain, he's just a kid after all.
Also Jason accidentally breaks Salim's plate and he is freaking out about it. He shows up at Salim's door, shoulders sagging and he's low. The broken plate on his bloody hands. He's sobbing about being sorry he broke it, it was an accident, if he could fix it or buy him ten knew plates. Salim at this point doesn't care and is worried about Jason's bleeding hands. Pulls him inside and asks what happened. Jason says he was washing them when his side starting hurting sending him to the floor in pain, out of breath and being unable to see for a moment. When the pain lessened the plate was broken at his hand were all cut up.
Jason is also worried he'll see the ghost of the girl he and Nicky shot, about how the next time a situation like that happened he hesitated, the part of camp slayer was bombed and more showed up to shoot. People died and Jason got shot. He didn't make the right call twice now both times lives were lost needlessly, this is something he tells Salim far later into the story. Jason doesn't sleep well at all.
Eventually Zain shares why he thinks he may have deserved to die, how he was a bad son. How his father gave him everything, loved him more than anything, was proud and caring and how Zain still managed to fuck things up. How he would steal. He's not sure why he does it and that it could cause real problems for him and his father if he's caught. How for some reason he wanted to be as far away from his father as he could, just because he would get into arguments over him stealing. He didn't mean it. Zain cries when telling this to Jason. He misses being alive, being with his father.
Not sure how Zain died though.
Salim gets better and Jason is falling HARD for Salim. And it scares him. Something happens, Jason is pushing Salim away, you know, some angst, zain isn't happy about that.
Angst happens Jason dies, he's saved, he bakes a pie once recovered and knocks on Salim's door with it in hand.
"Howdy, Neighbor. I baked you a pie." )
Anyway that's what I got so far for the idea. I finally got to watch Ghost Town again, so. Yeah.
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Ramble of Merman!AU // Violence, Gore ‼️
Merman AU in which there is a myth that the tears of a merman transforms into pearls and Fisherman!Dar decides to test out this theory with the recent capture of an adult and child mermen.
It is easy enough to make the child cry, barely had to break skin for his eyes to well up - but there was nothing but sand falling down his puffy cheeks.
The adult on the other hand, seeing the younger thing in such distress, was enough to squeeze out the shiny beads Dar was anticipating.
Upon discovering that the myth is indeed real, Dar proceeds to mutilate Merman!Zains tail in order to elicit a strong enough reaction from Merman!Salim to have him cry a stream of pearls.
Salim gets his revenge by tearing off Dars ear with his own set of sharp teeth, which causes enough of a commotion for Zain to flee. Of course, now Salim is stuck in his own personal hell where the human will try any and all methods to make the older merman cry.
The damage Zains tail has sustained in the aftermath of Dars torture leaves him unable to properly navigate in the water or fight against the waves.
When morning comes, in one of Jason's routine jogs, he finds the body of a child laying on the beach - with a tail for legs of all things - but nonetheless injured and needing of help.
This entire thing is just my excuse to put Salim in the worst possible scenario ever, with Dar as the main perpetrator lmao
Salim gets to tear off Dars ear.... As a treat....
I just think the concept of "merman tears are actually pearls" is so cool !!!!
I feel bad for putting Zain in the crossfire here, but if there is one thing that would conceivably make Salim cry, it would be seeing his own son getting tortured.
Jason is once again here to save the day. He will nurse Zain back to health and in this AU, Eric (Marine biologist) and Nick (Vet) will be there to help out as well !!!
#Kinda turned into Fanfic writing at the start#I keep flipflopping bc I don't know what is the best way to present my idea AUGH#Either way it's out of my system now!!!#Hoping I have the time to draw a few snippets from what I'm imaging#hoa#house of ashes#salim othman#zain othman#dar basri#au#merman#mermay#insp#reference#jason kolchek#Tagging as violence and gore especially with the involvement of child Zain
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What if the body double is the short one? Says Zain
Nastasya says she used to just decline the work but Sascha’s set her up with a… where is it… blob monster. She opens a cupboard. There’s a meat crime inside. Basically spare materials go onto the blob monster and get reused later.
#first draft warning#SO VERY rough but this cracked me up so#snips#Dusty writes#(this is what my first drafts look like)#Zain al-shahir bin Zakariya#Anastasia Normanovna Vykosovich
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✮ ↳ The Show Must Go On ↰
♡ yandere! actor x gn reader♡
tw/cw: slight obsession, nothing too detailed
authors notes: first work and i wrote this in one sitting...it's okay we're fine ♥ also i may have based him off of myself and i will probably do that with a lot of my ocs! my bad i'm just a theater kid who likes to write
➼ yandere! Actor who first only knew you as one of the stagehands, always flitting back and forth behind the curtains.
➼ yandere! Actor who didn't even know your name until you got promoted to prop manager.
➼ yandere! Actor who never knew how every character that he played fell in love with someone at first glance, but as soon as you walked onto the stage and started giving out your orders, it was like the heavens had shone their light upon you and you only.
➼ yandere! Actor who was infatuated with everything about you. Your responsibility, your assured nature, the way you'd sternly correct him when he messed up his lines because he "should be reading off his script, not off my face".
➼ yandere! Actor who was always on top of his game, one of the best actors in his region, yet when you looked at him with your concentrated eyes it was like he was a rookie again.
➼ yandere! Actor who would be stuttering and tripping over his words on purpose just to get you to come up and read it with him, your warm body so close to his that he could almost taste the perfume you were wearing.
➼ yandere! Actor whose heart raced whenever you praised him, even a simple "good work today" would give him butterflies.
➼ yandere! Actor who knew that opening night was approaching, so he worked day and night to memorize his lines. The excited smile on your face when he was able to perform the whole dress rehearsal without flaw was something he'd never forget.
➼ yandere! Actor who, standing behind the curtain on the first day of their showing, suddenly started to shake. He's been in the industry so long that he forgot what it's like to have pre-show anxiety, and he doesn't even know how to deal with it. Suddenly, a warm hand is put on his shoulder.
"You're shaking." You point out, turning him around to face you. "Why? Are you feeling alright?" You place the back of your hand on his forehead to feel his temperature. "You're not warm, so you're not sick..." You think about it for a second, looking him in the eyes with a warm smile. "Are you...nervous?"
Aurelian doesn't speak, instead, he just nods. He's ashamed of you having to see him like this, the Aurelian Yavuz, getting jitters right before the opening night of one of his most popular shows.
"Hey, look at me." Your voice is soft, yet commanding, forcing him to look into your assuring eyes. You place both your hands on his shoulders, gripping them firmly to help ground him.
"You've done this show countless times before, and we've read the script together so many times that it should be burned into your brain by now." He laughs slightly, a sign that your motivation is working.
"You're one of the best actors I've ever worked with, and one of the most dedicated as well. You've spent so many hours reading, fixing, and editing this performance so that it's just right and absolutely nothing could go wrong. Am I correct?"
He nods again, making you click your tongue.
"Use your words. Am I correct, yes or no?" Your firm tone makes it hard for him to disobey, especially when you look at him with those fierce eyes.
He gulps, taking a deep breath before responding.
"Yes, you're correct. I've done so much to make sure that this show is perfect, so I have no reason to be nervous." He stands up straighter and walks backstage, adjusting his costume in the mirror. "Plus, I know that you'll be watching, so everything will be okay~." He winks at you from the mirror, making you chuckle.
"Exactly. We behind the curtain will be making sure that everything goes smoothly, so all you have to do is go out there and do what you do best." The lights start to dim as the audience applauds. You pat him on the back and adjust his collar for him.
"The stage is yours, Auri." you nod at him as he takes a deep breath, walking out onto the large wooden stage to loud cheering. His voice booms through the stage, and soon enough, the show is over. The cast takes their final standing bow and walks back to their dressing rooms. Aurelius makes a beeline for the lighting booth where you are usually sitting; he bursts through the door backstage, only to find your seat empty.
"What...?" he looks around for any trace of you, but it's like you've disappeared. He takes a seat in your chair and waits for what seemed like hours to him because of how tired he was. 15 minutes after the show ends, he hears your voice from outside the door. he gets up to open the door, but as soon as he does, the door opens with a creak. There you are, standing in the doorway with a coffee in one hand and your bag in the other, looking up at him surprised.
"Auri, why haven't you changed? Everyone's already leaving, you should go too-"
"You weren't watching." He cuts you off, looking at you with cold, dead eyes.
You look at him confused, setting your bag down on the floor. "What are you-"
"Why weren't you watching?"
#zain>>works#yandere writing#tw yandere#yandere blog#yandere#yandere x you#soft yandere#oc x reader#god i think i blanked out writing this#it's now half past one in the morning#i can't remember how i got here#all i remember is having an idea and needing to write it immediately#it's fine it's okay#we ball#anyway this is my first work i hope yall weren't expecting much
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“I wasn't looking for this, but now you're in my way.”
x~x~x~x
featuring Darian Zain @kathrynalicemc (yes, this is almost entirely for her and me, so sue me 😜) and referencing the crew of the Empyrean @thatravenpuffwitch @sirfluffig @oneirataxia-girl
x~x~x~x
In the 1930′s, the Wizarding World was in turmoil. With the rise of the Dark wizard Grindelwald, many lived in fear of what another Great War -- this time one waged with magic -- could look like. It’s unsurprising, therefore, that many sought an escape from those fears -- and one of those things that provided such an escape were the tales circulated of Jules Aquila, his crew, and their ship, the Empyrean.
The Empyrean was a ship that British wizard Jules Aquila had stolen from a Muggle museum back in the 1920′s and enchanted to fly, so that he and his associates could take flight across the world. And sure enough, the Empyrean had known its fair share of adventures, questing for the likes of long-lost magical sights like Atlantis and Dolorous Guard. However much the magical governments of the world gave the flying ship a very critical side eye for flirting so frequently with breaking the Statute of Secrecy, most mainstream wizards and witches were enchanted by the rebellion, adventure, and romance encapsulated in the crew’s lifestyle.
Although Jules Aquila was and would inevitably always be the most famous of the Empyrean’s crew as captain, however, that didn’t mean that other crew members didn’t get their fair share of glory. Aquila’s best mate and quartermaster Kath Alton was purportedly one of the most talented magical engineers on Earth, while his first mate, Desiree Lestrange, had been a well-regarded Cursebreaker for le Banque Decristaux before abandoning her cushy position and lifestyle to set sale with the sky Captain. There were also much more interesting, but less provable rumors circulated -- those of Aquila having recruited a wanted thief to his crew in exchange for keeping him from getting arrested; those of Aquila having stolen his beloved pet occamy from the infamous French magical gangster Claude Macnair; even those of a certain crewmate with large, eagle-like wings sprouting out from his back like some mythical angel. Some stories claimed the winged crewmate was a wanted man, though others still -- even more wild -- claimed he was descended from royalty, or even a Djinn.
One story Darian Zain hoped would never be passed around him, though, was the time that he flew right into the window of a Muggle airplane.
The Empyrean had been traveling up the far-eastern coastline of the Americas, on its way up toward Greenland. Desiree had determined that there might be some magical Viking settlements in the area, and Jules was eager to investigate. On the way, though, the crew decided that they’d have to stock up for a journey so far north, not just in the essentials like food and water, but more importantly, of warm blankets and clothing. Most of their crewmembers weren’t used to such cold temperatures, after all -- especially not Darian, who grew up in a much hotter desert climate. So, in preparation, Desiree and Lugh had gone to the wizarding village of Gravesville, right in the heart of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, so as to fetch some of the magical supplies needed, while Kath and Felix went into the “Muggle” side of town to pick up the more mundane kind. Once the others had purchased everything they needed, Darian then played “carrier pigeon” and flew it all back to the Empyrean.
Many people in Darian’s place might’ve been a little resentful of having to play the role of an owl just because he had wings -- but the runaway prince honestly was eager to help. After nearly an entire life of being locked up indoors with nothing to do, it was fun to get out and actually do something. And it was kind of cool, to be needed for once. He’d become rather fond of his crewmates, over the years, and being given any kind of responsibility made Darian feel included in a way he hadn’t really known at home, when his father the King kept him so cloistered away from everyone else. Lugh, Kath, and Felix had taught Darian a lot about weapons, ships, record players, magic tricks, and lockpicks -- heck, even Jules had taught him how to navigate using the stars, if he ever got lost. And even though the ship’s resident taskmaster Desiree always gave him a lot of chores to do, Darian knew that was just because of her own strong work ethic. From what Darian gathered, he’d also reminded Desiree of her younger brother upon first meeting, due to how privileged their upbringings had been...and frankly, after having met the spoiled, pigheaded, self-absorbed blood purist that was Marius Lestrange, Darian hated the thought of ever being the least bit like him.
At least Desi should have enough to make a good meal, once we’ve all gotten back to the ship, Darian thought to himself with a smile. Maybe she might even make some naan, if I make really good time?
This thought cheered him up significantly. Desiree had first learned how to make naan while they were traveling through Iran, and she’d taken to baking some as a treat sometimes, whenever Darian’s work had impressed her. The fresh bread always made him think of home.
The satchel on Darian’s back was heavy. He moved to adjust it, only to have to fumble a bit to keep it from opening and its contents from spilling.
“Whoop -- !”
He shifted the satchel around in his arms, latching it back together a bit more tightly as he flew.
“There we go,” he mumbled with a smile, as he tossed the satchel back over his shoulder. “Now then...back to it -- ”
WHAM.
Because Darian hadn’t been looking where he was flying, he didn’t see the thing whose airspace he was entering until it was far too late.
His head pounding with pain, Darian tried to orient himself, even as it felt like his world was spinning.
He’d hit something -- what had he hit? A wall? A wall of glass?
Blinking rapidly even as colorful stars winked in front of his eyes, he could feel the thing he’d collided with shifting downward. There was something moving behind the wall of glass -- was that a person?
Darian flapped his wings, trying to fly back a bit so he could get a better look. Unfortunately when he did, he found his right wing was having trouble straightening out.
“Ow -- ow -- !”
Pain pulsed through his wing as he flapped it. He tried to lean more on the other to support him, but when he did, he could feel the satchel sliding over again. In trying to catch it, he lost his balance, and suddenly he was falling right through the air.
“WHOA!”
Darian lashed his arms out, securing the satchel of supplies close to his chest so they wouldn’t fall out. He tried to flap his wings, thinking to slow himself down -- but his right wing was throbbing in pain -- he must’ve sprained it --
Blinking rapidly, Darian tried to focus. The ground was coming up fast -- way too fast -- !
He lashed an arm out desperately, his eyes focusing blearily on the ground even as his head pounded with pain.
“Come on -- ” he choked. “Come on -- stop falling, stop falling -- stop, stop, stop, STOP -- !”
A burst of air abruptly puffed out of his hand. It wasn’t enough to stop Darian from falling, but it did partially counteract the pull of gravity, blasting him ever-so-slightly upward again. As fate would have it, it was just enough to hoist him up onto the wing of the weird, red-painted metal thing that had dived down to try to catch him.
Darian looked up, startled.
I’ve seen one of these! he realized, recalling a picture in a book he’d read a piece of over Desiree’s shoulder one day. It's one of those...‘aeroplanes!’
Through the hard glass window, Darian could see a pilot dressed in a brown leather hat and coat and thick goggles, who gave him an encouraging smile.
“Hang on!” the pilot shouted over the sound of the plane’s propeller. His voice was husky and laced with a strong Boston accent, but his lips were upturned in a rather handsome smile. “I’ll go in for a landin’!”
Stunned and still nursing a throbbing headache, Darian did what he was told, clinging onto the edge of the wing for dear life. The plane glided down much more smoothly than he’d expected, and within moments, with a light bump, they’d collided with the ground. The pilot then parked the plane safely on a hanger set up in the open field.
Darian carefully eased himself up onto the edge of the wing, stretching out his right wing as best he could.
“Ow...”
He winced, only managing to spread it half the way out before the pain stopped him. Yep -- definitely a sprain.
The plane window opened upward, and the pilot hoisted himself up and out of the cockpit onto the lower wing just below Darian.
“Uh...hey!” he called up. “You all right up there?”
Darian straightened up abruptly.
“Yeah!” he answered at once, almost on impulse.
I will be, anyway, he thought more sheepishly. Once I can brew myself some Wiggenweld Potion, back on the ship...
Darian’s stomach sank.
The Empyrean. How was he going to get back up to the ship, if he couldn’t even fly? He hadn’t even thought to bring any healing potions with him, just in case something happened...
The pilot’s handsome smile broadened a bit as he slipped off his goggles. His beetle-black eyes were long-lashed and sparkling.
“That’s a relief. You hit my window pretty hard...I thought for a minute I might’ve killed you...”
Darian laughed. “And I thought for a minute I was going to die, until you caught me! Thanks for that!”
“No problem,” said the pilot brightly. “I mean, heck -- s’not like I coulda just let you fall, could I?”
He paused. His dark eyes ran over Darian’s face, along his shoulder to up at his right wing.
“...Are...are those real?” he breathed after a moment. He seemed enchanted.
Darian blinked. Oh, right -- for a split second, he’d almost forgotten that his wings were anything strange. But hey, was that surprising? His wings were a bit weird to wizards, let alone to a Muggle like this pilot was -- or at least, he figured it must be weird: he’d never talked to a real Muggle before...
This thought was like a two-by-four to Darian’s head.
A Muggle. He’d been seen by a Muggle -- a Muggle was staring right at him, at his wings -- !
“No!”
Darian choked out the word like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He quickly tried to fold his wings, even as his right one spasmed with pain.
“No, no, they’re -- uh -- mechanical!” he lied quickly. “Like your aeroplane! Lots of gears and metal, underneath all the feathers!”
He laughed weakly as he tried once again to fold his wings over his shoulders like a cape, holding his right one in both hands to try to mitigate the pain pulsing through it.
The pilot blinked slowly at him, his expression becoming much more amused. “...Really?”
“Yeah!” said Darian, his mouth spread into a very nervous smile. “They’re completely normal! Just like me -- normal and Muggle as can be -- ”
Wait -- Muggles don’t call themselves Muggles, do they -- do they use No-Maj -- ?!
“ -- I-I mean...just a normal mug, you know -- that’s me. Heh...”
His voice sounded pathetic in his own ears. He had to sound like a complete idiot!
Rather than looking suspicious, however, the pilot only seemed to smile broader and more sincerely than ever. He seemed almost charmed.
“Well...any normal mug I reckon would be a bit shaken, fallin’ outta the air like that,” he said. He extended a gloved hand to Darian. “Here -- lemme help you down.”
Darian blinked, a bit confused. Then, hesitantly, he accepted the hand. It was smaller than his, but the pilot held his hand securely as he helped Darian down onto the lower wing, before they both climbed back down to the ground. The pilot was the exact same height as Darian.
The embodiment of tall, dark and handsome, the prince thought amusedly, reminded of Kath sarcastically using the same term for him, when the crew of the Empyrean had to go undercover at a masquerade party and a bunch of the ladies had abruptly all started flirting with Darian.
Once they’d made it back to solid ground, the pilot took off his helmet at last. A wave of beautiful, long black hair swirled out, cascading around the pilot��s face like ocean water.
Darian blinked in slight surprise. Seemed he’d been saved by a tall, dark handsome female pilot.
Cool.
Several more planes flew over their heads. The pilot watched them, her dark eyes narrowing a bit.
“Here,” she said lowly. “Best hide those away, ‘fore anyone else sees...”
She leaned over the edge of her plane and took out a blanket from inside the cockpit, wrapping it quickly around Darian’s folded wings on his shoulders.
“Oh, uh -- thanks,” said Darian sheepishly.
The blanket was small enough that he’d have to keep his wings completely folded, to hide them under it. He glanced over his shoulder at the planes soaring overhead.
“...Who are they?”
“The other cadets,” said the pilot as she put down her helmet on the wing and worked to tie up her hair into a messy bun. “They’re all pretty swell, honestly, but that don’t mean they pro’lly wouldn’t flip a bit, seeing your... ‘mechanics.’” She shot another furtive look skyward. “Best be gettin’ on.”
Picking her helmet again and tucking it under her arm, she then gave Darian a smile.
“Are you hungry?”
Darian was startled. “Huh?”
“Well, I did knock yeh plum outta the sky,” she said good-naturedly. “Reckon I really should apologize proper for that. My car’s just ‘round the corner from the hanger, we can always drive out and grab a bite. Then maybe I can drop you somewheres, so you can make your way home...”
Darian rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably as she started to walk across the field and he followed along close behind. “Well, uh...that might be a bit hard, I mean...I’m not really from around here...my crew and I are just passing through...”
“Could one of your buddies come and pick you up somewheres?” asked the pilot in concern.
Darian considered this. Truthfully, all he really needed to get airborne was a healing potion...or just the ingredients for one -- he could more than brew it himself. And even if he obviously couldn’t brew anything in front of his new Muggle friend (this thought made Darian feel a bit giddy despite himself -- he’d made friends with a real-life Muggle!! Not just that, but a fly girl!!), he could probably manage it somewhere a bit more magical...like Gravesville!
“...Well, there’s a place in Philadelphia...my friends were shopping there, just a little while ago. I could meet them there.”
Gravesville would have owls, right? Darian thought to himself.
The pilot smiled. “In Philly? No sweat! That’s just over the river from Camden...I can drop you off there, after we eat.”
Darian’s face lit up. “Great!”
They reached the pilot’s car. Darian for a minute couldn’t help but just walk around it, entranced. It was a bright and shiny ruby red, with a lightweight black roof propped up by metal rods, and it had two spare wheels mounted to either side of its nose, almost like decoration.
“You like her?” asked the pilot.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” said Darian. “Her, I mean...”
He was reminded of how Jules always called the Empyrean a “she” -- he’d said that all ships were called that.
I wonder if all vehicles are ‘she’s?’ Darian wondered to himself.
He beamed at the pilot. “She’s beautiful!”
The pilot couldn’t bite back a proud smile as she flushed a dark red.
“Old Apple’s kinda old-fashioned -- I got her second-hand,” she explained bashfully. “But I was able to fix her up some, ‘round my studies.”
She opened up the passenger door, extending a hand to invite Darian in. Once he sat down inside the car and had put his bulging satchel gently down on the floor, she darted around the other side and began to unfold the car’s top and stow it away. It seemed clunky to do -- the top made a lot of weird noises when it was tamped down, and Raye had to twist and smack parts of it just to compress it, but she did it with such little fuss that it seemed like an inconvenience she was very used to.
“I just realized -- I haven’t introduced myself!” said the pilot with a sheepish smile. “The name’s Raye -- Raye Davies. Short for Rachel -- but really, just Raye will do.”
Darian beamed. “Pleased to meet you, Raye! Darian Zain -- that’s what most everyone calls me.”
Raye cocked an eyebrow at him as she smiled. “‘Most everyone?’ Well then, I guess I’ll follow suit.”
Climbing in herself and closing the door, she put the key in the ignition and turned on the car, making it rumble to life under Darian. The noise and movement startled the prince, but only to the extent that it made his tanned face light up with excitement -- a reaction that made Raye’s face seem to glow that bit brighter too.
“Now, then...hm...” Raye mumbled thoughtfully. “Reckon we can’t be strollin’ on in to any diners: you’d look weird, bein’ all wrapped up in a blanket. And some joints ‘round here can be right rotten to ‘out-of-towners’...”
Her black eyes then lit up with a thought.
“Ever been to the park-in theater, up in Pennsauken Township?” she asked.
Darian blinked. “No.”
Raye's face lit up. “Oh, it’s the berries! They just opened it a couple months ago...but the dames there just come right up to your car, take your order, and then bring it on back to you, so you don’t miss any of the movie...”
Darian racked his brains. He’d heard of movies -- the Empyrean’s ship doctor sometimes talked about one of his friends who made those for a living...what was his name, ‘Fawcett’...?
“Sure, they don’t play anythin’ that great and the sound quality’s kinda bum,” Raye rambled on a bit more awkwardly. “But well, folks don’t really get outta their cars there, so no one’ll pro’lly look at you funny if you’re wrapped up in a blanket. And even if it’s cheap, their food’s still pretty jake. Whaddya say?”
For all of Raye’s insecurity about the place, Darian seemed perfectly undaunted. The idea of such a new experience excited him to no end, so when she asked his opinion, he answered both immediately and brightly.
“Sounds like fun!”
Raye beamed, visibly relieved.
Once she was sure Darian was holding on securely, Raye put the car in drive and stepped on the accelerator, driving off down the road with speed.
Darian had to grab the blanket around his wings before it flew off with one hand and hold onto the bottom of the car’s window frame with the other, but the speed still made his heart race and his chin-length dark hair flap in the wind. He couldn’t stop himself from giving a loud “WOO!” over the air loudly rattling in his ears.
~*~
Raye drove Darian up to Pennsauken Township, into the quirky new park-in theater. The vendors there sold lots of candy, popcorn, and chips, alongside all the soda pop, ice cream, and hot dogs. Raye had offered to treat Darian, which turned out to be a big mistake, since Darian immediately went hog-wild and bought absolutely everything available.
“Guess I’ll be havin’ beans for the next week,” Raye muttered to herself as she handed over her hard-won earnings to the vendor.
She found she couldn’t be too upset, though, seeing how excited Darian was when the vendor handed him the full contents of her tray. Even the pretty woman giving Darian a sassy wink only seemed to make Raye smile grow amusedly, particularly when the winged young man brightly accepted the assortment of snacks, completely oblivious to the woman’s overtures.
“Wow,” Darian said excitedly. “Look at them all! There’s so many...”
Raye’s black eyes sparkled a bit when they squinted. “Yeah, there’s a lot more selection, closer to the bigger cities. Easier to ship and store stuff in bulk here...”
Darian considered this. “...I guess that makes sense...”
He’d had dessert almost every day, when he’d still been at home -- it wasn’t as common that he got to have it on board the Empyrean, since they were so on-the-go. The rareness of it hadn’t really disappointed Darian, though -- if anything, it made those sweet treats that bit more special, not to have them every day. Plus he’d gotten to try a lot of different sweets than he’d never had previously, and most of them were great! Except for meringues -- Darian was still baffled that chalky-tasting stuff was somehow considered edible.
He curiously rifled through the different colorful wrappers, reading them one by one. Babe Ruths, Twizzlers, Twinkies, Fritos, Lay’s Potato Chips, Tootsie Rolls, Goobers, Milk Duds, Ritz crackers...
“I’ve never had anything like this before,” he admitted.
Candied fruits and dates were much more par the course, where Darian was from. In fact, Jules and Kath had only just given both him and Desiree a crash course in commercial magical sweets like Sugar Quills, though Darian took to them much better than Desiree did.
Darian looked up at Raye eagerly. “Which one should I try first?”
Raye considered this.
“...Well, d’you like chocolate?” she asked after a moment.
“Yeah,” said Darian. “I’ve had Cauldro -- I mean, chocolate cakes before...they’re great!”
If Raye had heard his slip-up, she paid it no mind. Instead she merely smiled.
“Maybe a Tastykake would be good, then!”
She took out a tiny cupcake with chocolate wrapped in plastic, taking it out and handing it to Darian. He took a bite, and was startled when along with the chocolate cake, he tasted a sweet buttercream filling.
“Mmm!” he said. He licked his lips of it quickly so he wouldn’t make a mess and beamed at Raye. “This is delicious!”
Raye grinned seeing how happily Darian devoured the cake. He then proceeded to pick out another similar-looking yellow pastry in a wrapper labeled “Twinkies” and unwrapped it. When he bit into it, he was once again delighted when it was full of creamy filling.
“Mmmm!”
Raye laughed. “You like it?”
“Mm’yeah!” Darian said with his mouth full. He then quickly swallowed, wiping his mouth bashfully. “I mean, yeah!”
Raye only laughed harder, which made Darian laugh too.
“Here,” said Raye, her face a bit brighter than before as she reached into Darian’s pile and snagged a small handful of unlabeled wrapped brown candy squares, “try the caramels next -- those are my favorite.”
The caramels were indeed pretty tasty. Darian enjoyed how chewy they and the candies called “Tootsie Rolls” were. He also really liked the Mallocups, Raisinets, potato chips, and popsicles. He was fine with just one bite of the black licorice -- he ended up washing it down with some Coca Cola, which was probably his favorite thing of the entire night. He’d never had anything so bubbly before, nor anything that simultaneously tickled his tongue and nose so much, and when it made him belch more loudly than he ever had in his life, both he and Raye couldn’t stop laughing. It even prompted Raye to -- upon several people in other cars shooting Darian disgusted looks -- gulp down quite a lot of soda herself, just so she could belch just as loudly. It ended up being hilarious accompaniment to the cheesy monster movie playing over their heads on the projector screen.
When the movie was finally over and they’d had their fill of all the food they’d ordered, it was already night. Raye put on a fedora, wool coat, and gloves for warmth, and then she drove Darian over the Delaware River into Philadelphia.
Darian directed her to the street corner around which lay the wall that obscured the magical borough of Gravesville and asked her to drop him off there. When Raye parked at the street corner, though, she suddenly looked incredibly unsure. Her shoulders had become very tense.
“Are...you gonna be all right from here?” she asked hesitantly.
Darian gave her a reassuring smile. “Oh, sure! I know where I’m going.”
Once he was in a more magical environment, he could heal himself without anyone paying him any mind...
He glanced down at the blanket around his shoulders.
“Oh! Here...”
The exiled prince made as if to take it off, but Raye quickly threw out a hand to grab his and stop him from taking it off.
“Don’t!” she said quickly.
Darian blinked. Raye flushed a bit as she withdrew her hand.
“It’s just...folks will see you,” she mumbled self-consciously. She glanced around at the various passerby anxiously.
“Well, yeah,” said Darian with a frown. “But you said it’d look weird, if I was walking around with a blanket on. And you need it back, don’t you?”
“I can get another one,” Raye said very quickly and dismissively.
She kept looking around, almost shrinking a bit against the steering wheel. It was almost like this neighborhood made her nervous, for some reason...
“Are you all right?” Darian asked, concerned.
Raye forced a smile. “Well, sure -- just...just don’ come down here that much...”
She tried to brush off her nerves, putting on a slightly braver expression.
“...Just...go ahead and keep covered, ‘til you’re back with your crew. Reckon they’d be able to protect you from anyone who might give you grief for your...mechanics.”
Her eyes flitted down to Darian’s folded wings obscured by the blanket around his shoulders. Darian glanced down at her blanket around his shoulders and then back up at her, offering her a slightly gentler smile.
“You didn’t give me any grief for them,” he pointed out. He smiled a bit sheepishly. “I thought you might actually -- I’m sure you’ve probably never seen a flying man before...”
Raye smiled self-consciously as her eyes fell down to her steering wheel.
“I’ve seen weirder,” she said dismissively.
Not letting Darian press her further, she changed the subject, forcing her smile that bit more.
“Well, um...it was nice meetin’ you, Darian Zain,” she said formally. “Best of luck gettin’ back to your crew.”
“...Thank you...”
Darian felt himself deflating a bit despite himself. Guess this really was the end of this weird little adventure, wasn’t it...?
Picking up the satchel up off the car floor, he hoisted it up over his shoulder again and put on a braver, more sincere smile.
“...Raye? I know I just said it, but...thank you. I haven’t really ever been able to go out and just have fun with people that much, and...well, this day was one of the best I’ve ever had, in my whole life.”
He grinned.
“I had a lot of fun! The ride-in was great, and Apple’s a beautiful car -- and you’re a pretty swell friend. So thank you.”
Raye blinked, taken aback by the winged man’s sincerity. Then her black eyes grew a little smaller, sparkling with a bit more fondness.
“...You’re welcome.”
She paused.
“...Hey, um...if you ever end up ‘round here again, you can always look me up, near Camden Airfield. I’m there most days, and just about all the pilots there know me -- even the ones who don’t think lady-folks should be flyin’ planes,” she added with a wryer smile. Her confidence then faltered a bit as she rambled on, “We could always go for a drive somewhere else...we could go to Newark and visit a brewery -- maybe even go to Steel Pier, if there’s time...”
Darian’s grin spread so wide, it nearly took up his whole face.
“Yeah!” he said, thrilled. “I’d like that!”
Raye’s face flushed happily as she beamed.
“Great,” she said, her voice a bit breathy despite herself. Her black eyes crinkled up to make room for the big smile on her face. “Well, um...see you ‘round, Darian.”
His face still bright with his big grin, Darian waved with his hand not holding his satchel.
“Bye, Raye!”
And with this, he departed around the corner, right up to the enchanted wall leading to Gravesville. Tapping the three left-most bricks with his knuckles, and then kicking the lowest right with his foot, the wall suddenly became as translucent as mist, and Darian slid right on through.
~*~
As fate would have it, Desiree and Lugh had gone back to Gravesville to look for Darian, after he didn’t return to the Empyrean. Desiree scolded Darian in both English and French for worrying them, and Darian was very apologetic, not just to Desiree, but to the others when they all returned to the ship. Kath ended chewing Darian out even more than Desiree did, especially after Darian told them about the new friend he’d made.
“You seriously just climbed into a complete stranger’s car and drove away with her?” said Kath, flabbergasted. “It’s a bloody miracle that you haven’t gotten yourself killed, with how blindly trusting you are...”
“She waz only a Muggle, Mon Ami Alton,” said Desiree lightly. “I doubt she would’ve been able to ‘urt Monsieur Zain zat much, even if she tried...but even zo.”
“Don’t underestimate Muggles, your Worship,” Lugh reminded Desiree. “They can be just as helpful or dangerous as any of us.”
“Well, fortunately, it sounds like this one was helpful!” Jules said optimistically. “So we can be thankful for that, at least...”
He smiled at Darian. “Just be more careful next time, all right? Felix, Kath and Desi were all really worried about you.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth,” Felix and Kath shot back in nearly perfect unison. It made Lugh, Darian, and Jules all burst out laughing and made Desiree fail to bite back a smile.
“I will,” said Darian, smiling slightly as Jules’s pet occamy Zephyr flew up to nuzzle his shoulder affectionately with his beak.
Definitely should make sure I have some healing potions on me, when I travel alone, he thought to himself.
~*~
After Darian had left the street corner, Raye stayed parked off to the side for about a half-hour, just in case he reemerged needing more help. It was just as she was about to head out that she caught sight of a familiar face rounding the corner with several other people -- that of a dashing dark-haired man with a pointed chin and nose and sparkling black eyes, dressed in an unusually flowing suit not unlike robes.
At the sight of Raye, the man stopped mid-walk, staring at her. His eyes were very critical. Raye met his gaze head-on, but her attitude was not hostile or even confrontational -- on the contrary: her posture seemed to shrink a bit against her steering wheel again, even as she stood her ground and stared at him.
The people around the man glanced over at where he was looking, curious. Muttering something to them under his breath, the man quickly steered them away, shooting another cold look back at Raye as he went.
Raye looked down at her own hands on Apple’s steering wheel, sighing quietly through her nose.
It was so much less uncomfortable when the MACUSA was still back in New York City, rather than in Philadelphia...
At least Seph showed his face after Darian left, Raye thought to herself uncomfortably.
She didn’t even want to think of how many questions Darian might have, if he’d figured out she had the same last name as the new Head of the Federal Bureau of Covert Vigilance and No-Maj Obliviation...nor how much grief Joseph would give her, for entertaining a clueless foreign wizard with a set of giant wings he couldn’t even hide from Muggle view...
With a cringe, Raye shifted the gears of her car and, with one last look over in the direction of where she knew Gravesville was hidden, she drove off, back over the Delaware River into Camden, New Jersey.
#fantastic beasts and where to find them#my writing#darian zain#raye davies#julio aquila#jules aquila#desiree lestrange#kathleen alton#lugh hopper#felix witt#my fanfiction
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waghoo another one. ellie gets briefed on how to ruin more lives. (fun!!!) nox and crew are coming back later to make her life even harder <3
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prompt. @literare. `` believe me. say you believe me. ``
`` shh ... `` she immediately says, hands gently moving him back so he may lay back down. this scene was one the two of them were quite used to: the soft fabric between her fingers had become a familiar comfort. quite similar to the way she can just as easily say his name without a worry. shams would rather do anything else with him than have to heal his wounds this way, but she is glad to be here, nonetheless. her hands move to slowly trace her healing magic around his wings, head tilting, she lets out a soft sigh. she wonders if the worry on her face is easy to read this time, not that she's trying to hide it. `` you need to rest, khoshgelam. ``
truth is, she doesn't quite care for details about the events. neither does she care whether he was at fault for it before she found her way to him [ and now that he has told her, she believes him without a doubt ]. no one who remains at court was harmed and neither were any of her people. and even then, she is sure her brother will handle the rest by himself just fine. she does, however, know that he cares that she believes him, so she takes her other hand to move away a few strands of hair from his face, giving him a knowing look. `` i do. `` nothing else is said and she feels no need for it.
shams is a bit more quiet than she usually is around him. she is, perhaps, concealing it behind concentrating on healing him, but she knows that he can read her too well to fall for that lie. zain may be her sworn sword and shield, but he was also so much more than just that. he is her trusted companion and more importantly― her self made home. the cloth is placed on the table next to the bed and her hands find themselves laying on her lap as she huffs. `` if your constant habit of getting into fights won't kill you, then it might as well kill me. `` she laughs then, but it's just as close to the truth as it is as a joke.
#literare#literare / zain.#&̲. ¹ writing — and all this is metaphor.#&̲. ² main — lips of honey‚ eyes of fire.#feeling very unwell rn
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FFXIV Write 2023 Day 12: Dowdy
Since the moment she was put into clothes for the first time as a newborn infant, Aeryn Striker had Opinions about what she wore.
From the feel of the fabric to its color to the number of buttons or hooks or strings, to the patterns and designs, cut and quality, the child was pickier than her parents often knew what to do with. Her elder brother was the first to realize the baby’s fuss came from disliking certain clothing items.
Unfortunately for tiny Aeryn, her parents were not wealthy, and clothing for an active, fast-growing child in a farming community needed to be economical above all else. So hand-me-downs from her brother and other village children, and cheap, sturdy fabrics that could take the wear and tear and staining, and could be let out for a time until she entirely outgrew them.
There were tears and pouts, shouts and crying, when she didn’t like her outfits. One summer morning everyone had a good laugh as Corran tried to catch an entirely naked three-year-old racing through the village.
In the end, Zaine could usually, mostly, get Aeryn to acquiesce for a time, distracting her with treats or toys or exploration or other childish games. Her natural inquisitiveness and sense of adventure could make her temporarily forget the uncomfortable, the shapeless, the ugly.
And she would “lose” things she particularly hated, in convoluted ways that left them unsalvageable. Otherwise Zaine would just find them and make her wear them again.
Finding outfits Aeryn did like came with their own problems of her wanting to wear them always, until entirely stained and discolored, and worn all the way through; they rarely lasted long enough for her to grow out of, and there was no handing them off to someone else’s child.
“She’ll eat everything put in front of her, listen to long sermons politely, be quiet when asked—and given a ‘good’ reason, sure, but still,” Emelia sighed. “I do not know what we are going to do if she ‘loses’ another pair of shoes, let alone this year’s winter coat.”
These habits only changed slightly on the family’s move to Thavnair.
The lighter fabrics felt better, and the patterns and designs, the colors and embellishments, all pleased Aeryn greatly. Some of it was the novelty at first, but even once she was used to the Hannish styles, she found…less to complain about.
She was old enough to no longer streak through the neighborhoods in fits of toddler petulance, for which Emelia thanked every divinity, and hoped the worst of this particular difficulty finished.
—
It could be said that Nani Shaila didn’t really get along with anyone, but she particularly disliked Zaine and Aeryn. The mother of Tanzel Eadir’s late wife, Nani Shaila resented his marriage to Emelia, feeling her own daughter was being replaced, regardless of her grandchildren assuring her otherwise.
She stayed under Tanzel’s roof for them…and also because none of her other children wished to deal with her. Tanzel was a man of patience and a firm enough will to mostly keep his first mother-in-law in line. His own mother, and new mother-in-law, helped.
But Tanzel was also a busy man and important to their Coooperative’s business dealings. So of course, the first time back in Radz-at-Han since her mother had married Tanzel (whom Aeryn liked quite a lot, but still felt painfully shy around), it was Nani Shaila minding the younger children as they went shopping in the Bazaar. And Aeryn being the youngest of all the Eadir children, Nani Shaila felt she had to keep the little girl at her side the whole time.
“I’m eight, Nani,” Aeryn tried to remind her. “I’m big enough to go ‘round by myself. I’ll even run errands for you!”
“Hrmph,” Nani Shaila looked down her nose. “You’re scrawny for eight,” she said again. “And tend toward trouble besides. Oh, you’ll complete the errands—in your own time and way, and I shall be left to clean up after you.”
“Or send Rashae to do it,” Aeryn said, before thinking. She winced, and then winced again when Nani Shaila gave her cheek a finger-flick.
“Mind that impudent tongue, girl,” her step-Nani said. “Just for that, the book stall’s where we shall visit last. Now take my hand; it’s far too busy today and you’ll get stepped on by an Arkasodara otherwise.”
Aeryn doubted that, but slipped her hand into Nani Shaila’s iron-claw grasp and hurried after her longer stride. She said nothing else, paying half-attention as Nani Shaila visited various shops and stalls, many of them wholesalers, haggling for prices, and having her goods packaged and delivered to the Cooperative’s building.
“Almost done,” Nani Shaila said over three hours later. The sun was well past noon, it was hot and sticky-humid, and Aeryn was tired, hungry, and bored. Her arm seemed nearly pulled from its socket, drug about by Nani Shaila all afternoon. It wouldn’t be so bad if it were her own Nani Zahra, or even Dodi Anya. But they wouldn’t have kept her at their sides and then complained about her being underfoot all day, either.
Still, Aeryn perked up when she saw where they were headed next; a dress shop, yalms of colorful, silky fabrics on display out front.
“Hrm. I hear they’ve come under new management,” Nani Shaila said. “Behave yourself.”
Which meant “don’t touch anything,” which was quite possibly the worst thing ever.
The Hyur shopkeeper behind the counter had a mustache, so Aeryn supposed he was grown up despite how roundly soft and smooth his face was, and that he was only as tall as her Nani. He smiled too broadly and greeted them. “Welcome, madame, welcome! What might I do for you and your grandchild on this fine day?”
Most of the other shopkeepers had immediately recognized Nani Shaila as a Cooperative representative. Many of them had known her (unfortunately) for years, but others had taken one look at how she wore her jewelry, turban, and dress and knew.
But this man was young, and new, so maybe he didn’t know how to tell yet. Aeryn watched him, since she was allowed to do little else.
“We had a deal with your predecessor, and I mean to see if that might continue.”
“Mmm, yes of course. I cannot honor any prior bargains, of course; times change, prices go up, and if one doesn’t keep up, well one doesn’t keep a shop. But I’m sure we can come to an equitable arrangement.”
Nani Shaila’s eyes narrowed. “Hmph. We’ll see. To start, young man, I want to check on bolts of Doman silk.”
“Ah, yes of course. Just a moment, let me go find those for you…” He turned and began checking the stacks behind him.
“They’re right there,” Aeryn said, pointing to a rack covered in a brilliant rainbow of bolts. She was fairly certain an adult should have been able to see it from the counter.
“Why yes, good eye, little one!” the clerk said. “If it had been a bhujamga it would have bit me. So many things to keep track of.”
Nani Shaila squeezed her hand in a warning, but Aeryn really was trying to be helpful, and the clerk seemed glad for it.
“Here we are then, madame, the finest and newest of Doman silk!” He lifted up one of the bolts. Aeryn saw dust on the cloth when it caught the light. “Perfect for a new sari, or even just something to spruce up an old market dress, eh?”
“This is a new dress,” Nani Shaila said coolly, checking the edge of the silk. “But I see your meaning.”
“I perhaps misspoke to say ‘old’ when I meant more…classically styled.”
“You’re wearing last season’s style,” Aeryn said. “And it’s not even fit right.”
“Aeryn.”
“But Nani—”
The clerk frowned now. “Your grandchild doesn’t know when to stay quiet, I take it?”
“She does unfortunately tend to be honest,” Nani Shaila said. It took both Aeryn and the clerk a moment to realize what she had just said. “I believe we’ll be shopping elsewhere. Good day.”
She turned, dragging Aeryn along as she strode out of the shop.
They were halfway down the block when Nani Shaila suddenly laughed. She had a sharp, cackley sort of laugh that Aeryn didn’t hear very often. “I meant to drag that out longer before laying into the poor fool, but his face! Leave it to you to know when something’s wrong concerning clothes.”
“So I’m not in trouble?”
Nani Shaila looked down her nose at Aeryn. “There’s still time in the day,” she answered acerbically, then paused and looked along the road again. “But I suppose it is past time we went to the book stall.”
Aeryn grinned. It may not have been the best day, and there weren’t new clothes nor even bolts of cloth to make any, and she was still stuck with Nani Shaila, but it wasn’t all bad.
#final fantasy xiv#ffxivwrite2023#Lyn Writing#Backstory#Thavnair#Shaila#Aeryn Striker#Emelia Striker#Zaine Striker
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Dear god, this was one long wait, eh? Two months and a half. Just so you know: I'm blaming school. And the people in my class that act like middle schoolers when they are between 21-25.
So anywho. New chapter. Another episode of me making Jason suffer for my own pleasure (it'll make the ending even sweeter). He's still very unaware of what Salim really thinks of him, but Salim's lack of filters regarding pet names has unwanted consequences now that there's someone around that knows Arabic :cough: Zain :cough:
Will the kid spill the beans? Will he keep it secret? I dunno, every two weeks my brain comes up with new ideas to change the scenario.
Anywho, please enjoy! (although I'm not sure if the reading will be that... I'm just so tired.) And thank you everyone for your patience ♥
Fanfic Summary:
Jason dropped to his knees as he heard the clacking sound of the elevator going up, leaving him and Salim behind.
Eric, Rachel, Nick… They left because he chose Salim over them. They left because they saw him as a traitor who had disobeyed his superiors’ orders just so he could save a man who wasn’t one of them, but an enemy.
Except Salim wasn’t an enemy, and he had become so much more than just a temporary ally while exploring the temple and underground with Jason. He became a confidant and a friend. A very precious friend. One that Jason had absolutely no intention of losing, and even more so after being forced to find another way out of this hell.
TL;DR: An Alternative Universe in which the other survivors leave Jason and Salim behind, so they must find another way out of the cavern if they want to continue living. Talking, banter and feelings ensue.
<< Chapter 1 >>
#house of ashes#hoa#jalim#jason x salim#jason/salim#jason kolchek x salim othman#jason kolchek#salim othman#zain othman#the dark pictures anthology#ao3 writer#ao3 author#ao3 link#ao3 update#I LIIIIIVE#SCHOOL IS A BI*CH#I've been working on this chapter for two days straight#and yet I started writing it in october after posting the previous chapter
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Gotta post this here to put in the chapter.
Here it is.
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