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shunsuiken · 1 year

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A LITTLE SECRET | SAGAU

synopsis. you, the divine creator of teyvat, discover one day that your blood can heal.

tags. gn!reader + hurt/comfort + fluff + you bring childe and kazuha into a domain (xiangling and bennett are honorary mentions) + reader wants ragbros to reconcile + zhongli and ayato are sparring partners + itto gets hurt but don’t worry we heal him + gorou is still traumatised after the war between the shogunate army & the sangonomiya resistance so pls understand his reaction here + reader thinks everyones gonna be mad at them but thats not true + they tease you in the end and its all adorable <3 hehe

warnings. mentions of blood (obviously), self-harm (??? because reader cuts their wrist to obtain the blood), if i missed anything pls lmk !!

wc. 2.6k

an. incredible how brainrot makes you write things so quickly. i only just indulged myself into sagau’s literally a week ago and now this is here 😀

“now wasn’t that quite the fight!” childe wipes sweat off his forehead with his sleeve, letting his bow dematerialise in the air as he strides into the estate in your abode.

“you were rather ruthless out there, i must say.” kazuha removes his bandages and replaces them with a clean roll in a cupboard. “their grace looked concerned when that cryo abyss mage shot a cryo thorn at you.”

“true but these scars will heal like they were never even there!” sometimes kazuha wonders if the fatui harbinger feels any pain, he must, he thinks, but is most likely good at hiding it.

“would you like to bandage that at least?”

“hm, i could but-”

“kazuha! ajax!” you call with your sweet voice from the kitchen and all the men’s heads in the living room whip around in the direction of your voice. speaking of you… they haven’t seen you since you and your party left the domain.

“yes, your grace?” childe replies, a light blush appearing on his face upon the use of his real name.

kazuha smiles lightly behind him, greeting you as you enter the living room. “your grace.”

“here are your vitamins, you two!” you bring two cups of a mysteriously transparent liquid to them. “i’ve already given these to xiangling and bennett and now it's your turns!”

“oh, it’s this drink again.” childe raises his brows. “you gave it to us last time as well, your grace.”

you hum in agreement, “i did.”

kazuha inspects the liquid after taking it from your precious hands. “the ingredients for this healing mixture must be incredibly difficult to find since it heals wounds so quickly.” he then drinks it up with childe, both men handing the cups back to you in a respectable fashion.

kazuha is right about that. the ingredients for this drink are definitely difficult to find.

but that is because the drink was your blood. your golden blood to be precise. when you descended as the creator of teyvat, you were naturally bestowed with this condition to discern your immortal body from others.

funnily enough, it was all due to you scraping your palm against a rough rock that you discovered the hidden properties of your blood (and its rich golden colour). it was weird in the beginning, and you made sure to guarantee how highly your blood’s healing properties were before offering it to the men who joined you in domains and open-world fights. so you only declared its potential after flinging yourself through multiple enemies.

so far you’ve managed to hide this fact from the men since you found out. after learning some illusory spells that can’t be detected by the naked eye, you were able to successfully heal your men after feeding them your blood—referring to it as “vitamins”.

“your grace, what’s the secret recipe behind this amazing drink? maybe i could learn it to help you if any more of us get hurt.” you feel bad, thoma looks like he has stars in his eyes but you obviously can’t tell him how the drink is made. you can already imagine it. he’d panic and go all red in the face. although a cute sight, you don’t want him to worry about you since he and the rest have done so much to smoothen your descent into teyvat.

you also notice the expectant eyes of the other men who are behind him, either idly standing by or are on the couch relaxing.

“oh thoma, there is a reason why it’s a secret.” you wink at him, extending your index finger to your lips. you end up laughing at the housekeeper when the red on his face makes it up to his ears, a sheepish look on his face for asking such a question with an obvious answer.

“my apologies, your grace. i didn’t mean to pry.” the pyro user scratches the back of his head while ayato, who sips on his boba milk tea, pats his back sympathetically.

“don’t apologise, dearest, it is natural you all are curious.” you meet eyes with everyone in the room, hoping your words can convince them. “but don’t fret, this is just a way of me giving my thanks to all your preparations when i arrived here.”

“your grace is too kind.” kazuha smiles. “therefore we shall accept your offerings wholeheartedly.”

you’re praying (to who knows what, you’re literally the most powerful being on teyvat) that the boys can forgive you if they ever found out. but you have a sinking feeling that they’ll all feel betrayed instead because they wouldn’t ever want you to hurt yourself to heal them. just thinking about it makes your heart break. so you quickly shove those worries away, as long as the boys stay safe then it is worth the minuscule second of pain.

you’re reading a book next to kaeya while he completes paperwork. he decided to do his work outside the confines of the wooden walls so he could get some fresh air instead (news flash: he actually just wants to be in your presence). after a while, diluc comes along with a glass of grape juice in his hands. he greets you and stares at his brother. “kaeya,” he greets before sitting down opposite of him.

kaeya raises his head, giving him a nod of acknowledgement. “diluc.”

you twitch your eye at the dry interaction in front of you. perhaps you should add this to your list of things to accomplish, to help these two estranged brothers and connect them once again. no doubt would the two be happier. obviously they will need as much time as possible to settle things. and you are willing to give them exactly that. time. you sigh underneath your breath, listening to the distant cling and clangs of a polearm and a sword.

hm, perhaps they’re sparring? you remove your gaze from your book to the two figures in the distance. ah, it seems to be zhongli and ayato. now that is an interesting pairing. however, your moment of peace is interrupted by panicked shouts for help at the front door. you exchange alarmed looks with the two brothers in front of you, getting up quickly from your seats to attend to the shouts that are coming from… you believe, gorou.

your face pales at the sight in front of you, there is a large gash right across itto’s stomach, blood pooling out of him like a flowing river. immediately you kneel down to his figure supported by gorou, who is startled by the entire situation as he relays what happened.

“we were looking for onikabuto but itto’s wind glider broke and he fell through the trees in chinju forest!” gorou’s tail is raised high up in alarm, ears stiff and skin running cold at the sight of his comrade in this state. it brings him too many memories. too many unfortunate ones that make his hands shake.

you hold onto his hand tightly, returning him to the present so he doesn’t focus on what he saw behind the look in his eyes anymore. he raises his head to meet your gaze. your gaze that does not falter, your gaze that urges him: trust me.

gorou does, giving you some space to heal itto with your abilities. it then dawns on gorou that he’s never seen you heal anybody with your abilities. and when you did heal people, it was with that liquid you would bring to them.

the men who are on site look at you with anticipation because they’ll finally get to see how you prepare that healing concoction. but they’re also exchanging gazes at each other in concern for itto. the oni groans in pain, clutching onto the gushing wound. you have no time to waste. materialising his claymore, you quickly slash your skin against the sharp edge as your blood spills onto itto’s wound.

you hear various reactions. cries of shock, quiet gasps, and protests that plead you to stop your actions.

“y- your grace?!” gorou gasps, brows creasing in bewilderment while his hands hover awkwardly in front of him, unsure of what to do next.

“so that’s why they never told us how the ‘vitamins’ were made,” the wanderer mutters but everybody hears him clearly.

the men are smart enough to put two and two together. seeing your divine blood trickle down your arm onto itto’s wound that healed the second it made contact with your blood threw them all into a speechless stupor. they weren’t even expecting the liquid to be such a dazzling colour that would reflect the light of the afternoon sun.

when the wound heals completely, you wipe the remaining streaks of itto’s blood off using your sleeves. and magically, your slashed skin is healed too. you reach for itto’s cheek, caressing him. “you are alright, my dear. you can open your eyes now.”

itto responds with a tired whine.

zhongli takes a step forward, kneeling down to meet your height to gently hold your forearm, his thumb running over the skin that was ripped open just a second ago. “so i’m assuming this is the secret recipe to the vitamins?”

you can’t lie to the boys anymore now that they’ve seen it all so you nod your head, admitting the truth. “yes, it is.” you don’t dare meet zhongli’s amber gaze, which is why you don’t notice the glint of worry he looks at you with. instead, you jump to conclusions and think that he’s disappointed in you. they probably all are, you convince yourself.

“gorou, let’s carry him inside.”

the men collectively jolt in alarm, they can’t possibly let you carry the oni into the estate. even if they saw your arm heal itself, you’re still their creator! they can’t just let you perform physical tasks like that when they’re available. so heizou and tighnari take it upon themselves to help the general carry him inside and onto the couches.

while the others are distracted you quietly retreat to the kitchen to make an escape through the back door but the second you turn on your heel, your face is met by somebody’s chest.

“you didn’t think what we saw would go unspoken, did you?” just your luck, it’s alhaitham. you’re definitely not getting out of this one.

you avert your gaze to the very interesting stove behind him, grimacing. “i was just about to grab some food for itto,” you lie through your teeth.

cyno suddenly appears beside alhaitham, crossing his arms. “we know you’re concerned for itto but the oni has a strong spirit. he’ll be fine.” he tilts his head. “however, i believe we deserve an explanation.”

the grip you have on your cloak tightens, staring at cyno as your heart thumps like its right beside your ears. “uh,” you begin, turning around to see that all their attention has fallen onto you, including itto who peeks over the spine of the couch.

“o- okay, well, initially i wanted to say something about it however, i’m also aware of how protective you all can be towards me and i realised if i did tell you all, then i wouldn’t be able to heal all of you quick enough after battling domains and open-world fights,” you trail off, continuing in softer voice, “i’m not doubting any of your abilities—i’m just concerned and mean well because majority of you are mortals. and mortals get hurt more easily than those of the adepti and other immortal beings—even when you wield a vision.” you sigh, shamefaced. “it appears my plan has turned on me, very well, if any of you believe i’m deserving of a punishment then i shall gladly-”

“woah woah woah, who said anything about a punishment, your grace?” although heizou would have preferred you to finish your sentence, he can barely get through the first few words. you clearly made your statement and proved your points. there is no need for punishment when you have already proven yourself.

“your grace, you are too kind for your own good!” venti shakes his head fondly. “you were only looking out for us in the first place, what position are we in to complain? you’ve also revealed your condition so i think we’re all even.”

you nod your head hesitantly, a tense atmosphere radiating off of you. “i just don’t like seeing any of you injured so terribly. it’s too much for me to bear.”

it’s silent for a while. everyone’s thinking of words to say. their creator doesn’t normally express their emotions so when they do, it renders even the best of linguists in the room silent.

itto groans, turning his head animatedly towards everyone. “jeez! you guys are acting like somebody just died!” the oni cannot stand the intense silence, it makes his body jittery and he has to say something to break it. he taps his finger on his temple, shaking his head dramatically. “your grace is the only one who can get these serious people quiet like this!”

aether raises a brow at the oni, folding his arms. “looks like you’re all better, aren’t you?”

itto’s eyes return to your figure. you feel like a spotlight is shining on you from the bright expression on his face as he rambles, “and that’s because their grace is super amazing, super cool, super smart and super-”

“i think their grace understands.” the wanderer interrupts him before looking at you. “you should tell us how you discovered your condition, we’ll be all ears.”

you’re caught off guard, lowering your gaze to the floor again as your face heats up. “u- uh.”

“you don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to.” xiao reminds you.

however, the men in the room have keen eyes and notice the change in your expression. how is it that the memory of discovering your condition made you react like this? now that makes them all wonder…

“ooh your expression changed your grace, was it perhaps an embarrassing memory?” kaeya teases, squinting his eye.

you fold your arms, feigning ignorance but your shaky gaze does nothing to defend you. “it was nothing of the sort.”

“oh really?” tighnari presses on. you’re sweating now.

“their grace must have been experimenting.” ayato defends you suavely but a glint of mischief shines in his lavender stare. “a little slip and slide of a few sharp objects is inevitable, no?”

“correct.” albedo nods his head, holding his chin with his thumb and a curled index finger. “however, since their grace can heal themself now, the discovery must have been… an accident?” he tilts his head, eyelids falling lower as he gives you the look you’ve seen on his face countless of times when he teases you.

your face boils like a kettle, you swear there’s steam coming out of your ears too. you snap your head away from their cheeky expressions. “you all are too much.” you huff, turning on your heel, because you somehow believe you can successfully leave the room when they all are eager to tease you like this.

“uh-uh, your grace!” venti blocks you from leaving through the back door. “after such a long day, don’t you think we’re worthy of your affection?”

you blink owlishly at the bard. “you all always are.”

venti coos at your words and the others can’t help but react similarly.

you sigh like an exhausted parent before pulling on a smile always reserved for them. “then how about you all join me on the couch while i tell you about my life in the other world?”

the men are quick to guide you to your seat in the middle of the couch. aether shushes itto because he started yelling in excitement, the wanderer and xiao have a glaring contest in order to sit beside you (somehow alhaitham and cyno are doing the exact same thing on the other side), kaeya and thoma prepare drinks and snacks for everyone and the rest make peace with the seats they’re sat at. as long as you are in their view, not a single complaint leaves their lips.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin sagau #genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin impact #sagau x reader

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shivroythinker · 11 months

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so this is something i've been turning over in my head for a few days and i'm not sure if it entirely makes sense but one of the aspects of shiv's character that is especially interesting to me is how incredibly warped her concept of love is. this is something i feel like all the roy siblings have issues with to some degree, but i think it's an especially pronounced part of shiv's character because we see so much of her relationship with tom over the course of the show.

like. i am of the belief that shiv does love tom. she really truly does, none of her behavior with regards to him makes sense unless we can take that as fact. the issue is that for shiv, love and cruelty cannot be untangled. they are two sides of the same coin, and of course they are, because when has she ever known love that was not also cruel? on more than one occasion she seems genuinely surprised that tom was hurt by something she said that to the average person was like... obviously hurtful. but that isn't incompatible with love for her. she is perpetually caught in the center of a tornado of her own feelings and they are so overwhelming and confusing that she can't see past the dust and debris and realize the havoc she is wreaking on others.

on the flip side of this, shiv is also unable to reconcile the way she's treated by tom with what she understands love to be. in the first two seasons especially, tom is so doting and loving and full of praise and compliments and reassurance. he is the picture of a man in love with his wife. but to shiv, this isn't what love looks like, it makes her uncomfortable, and of course it does because when has siobhan roy ever known unconditional kindness as anything other than a manipulation tactic or a guilt trip or a way to further one's own position? of course she clocks that tom is using her to get to power. after all, why else would he show her kindness? why else would he be gentle? love like that is not given to her unconditionally! it always has a price! she was weaned on poison! i want to fling myself into the abyss!

#once again i will not be reading this over or editing it so it makes more sense we shivpost like men #dont take this too seriously but also it is so serious #shiv roy #succession #tomshiv #shivposting

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 2 months

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gonna fling myself into the abyss bc some girl got 23 books for her 23 birthday

#this is me rambling #it’s all i want #pleaseeeee #oh that would be such a spencer reid gift #he’d so so do that #for me his wife

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thegodthief · 25 days

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Dreamt I was sitting out under a clear night sky. The card deck that [that one entity] wanted me to get was in my hands. I noted that despite the theme of the deck, there was only an artistic connection to the visible stars. As I idly shuffled the deck, I would stop at random moments to see which card was on top. I noticed that [a particular card] kept reappearing and realized that the card was also a repeat shower in the waking as well. [That one entity] had already made it clear that I was not to use any already established system of card reading with this deck, so I had no context with which to frame this card's appearance.

Adiutor was sitting quietly on my shoulder in her doll form. So quietly in fact, that when she spoke up, she startled me. How I did not fling her into the abyss of night, I am not sure.

"Still don't know what to do with this deck?"

"Not one bit."

"Well, you know you're dreaming, so why not ask the card that keeps showing up?"

"That makes sense, Adiutor. Too much sense. It means engaging with a whole new class of spirits that I am not equipped to understand."

"You engage with humans at your work that you are not equipped to understand. What's the difference?"

I turned my head to stare at her while her form's blank face radiated barely tolerable smugness. "There's a difference between Willfully Ignorant and Willfully Not Human. The former can be herded. The latter can herd me. I'd rather not be a pawn in someone else's game again."

Despite my rebuttal, I picked up the card and studied it. In the dreamscape it was identical to the physical card on my desk. I held the card out and looked up to the night sky. "Well, if I'm supposed to be making contact with you, it would help if I knew more about you."

The card vibrated in my hand. I looked back at it and examined the printed figure. The head of the figure suddenly turned to face me squarely. It winked and smiled a little and then turned back to the static image as before. But in that wink, it relayed some understanding.

"Ah, fuck."

"What's wrong, Master?"

"I can't do this."

"Can't do what, Master?"

"Don't you start playing Little Miss Naive with me. This is the start of something new, something unique, something that I won't be able to find in a book."

"Isn't that the point, Master? I do recall you bragging about how you can't be found in any book."

"It wasn't bragging, you little shit, it was lamenting. If I were twenty years younger, yea, I would take this as a challenge. But I'm not twenty years younger. I can't handle anything new like this. I can barely handle myself right now."

I closed my eyes to the card but I couldn't forget what I was told no matter how hard I tried. Useless. What good is giving me something that will never be put to use and can't be passed on to someone who can?

I'm so tired.

"Master."

"... Hm."

"If you can't handle anything, does that mean you don't want to change? Because if your life is going to get better, then it will change from how it is now. Are you saying that you don't want that?"

"... Adiutor, the only reason I'm not throwing your doll body into a fire is because I know I'm dreaming, and I don't want to piss off the entity that gave you to me. That's bullshit reasoning, and you fucking know it, you manipulative little fuck!"

"Of course, I'm being manipulative. I would worry if you didn't see that. But, the challenge still remains. Are you so content with how your life is now, that you don't feel it is worthwhile to change it?"

"There's a difference between what this deck is offering and trying to improve my situation."

She laid down on my shoulder in a way that made me wonder if she wasn't part cat. "Please tell me, oh wise and all-knowing Master, all the ways that your life can change in an instant and why it isn't worth trying to make the best of any of those possibilities."

"Adiutor, I have so many projects and works in progress. I can only attempt to finish one thing if I am willing to abandon five others. I'm stretched to my limit. I can't handle One More Thing. I don't have the time or the access to research this. I don't have the time to set aside just to entertain this. I can barely keep my head above water and shit like this makes me wonder why I haven't given up and drowned already? Or did no one tell you what happened when I moved here. When it was revealed that a significant engrossing matter that I was engaged in was really just a stage play to keep me from cutting my throat back then? How many times am I going to be something else's entertainment? I'M FUCKING TIRED, BITCH! I'm so tired. And what this card is offering, I can't accept. I don't have any room for one more new thing."

She slid off my shoulder and scrambled down my arm. "Yes, you are very tired, Master. It is good that I am your adiutor. My name is a Latin word, if you forgot, it means 'helper', among other things." She pulled the playing card easily from my fingers and held it in front of her as if to study the artwork. The regular sized playing card was a massive poster to her.

"So, I know some of what this is about. And while the presentation is new, the subject is not. You just never had a clear way of connecting to this before." She laid the card in my hand and pointed to the value in the corner. "This is a King, so you know this represents a ruler or controller of an area, situation, or pathway. And the suit is Clubs, which you already associate with [certain things]. Therefore, this card is representative of the ruler or lord of [certain things]. And I am willing to bet my stitches that you made contact with a spirit representing your personal King of Clubs, and that now that this contact is made, there is a call to complete the court."

There was no spite or smugness in her words, which surprised me. There was only a soft gentleness that I was not used to coming from her. "Yea. That's what happened. Just all in a blink of an eye, but yea. I thought I was just peeking through the keyhole when the door was snatched open, and so much came through that I was just overwhelmed. But now that you've laid it out, it doesn't sound so daunting. ... It's still a lot though."

She nodded and settled herself in the palm of my free hand. "It is, and it isn't. This is you picking up what has always been yours, but you were never taught how to do it. So you're learning the hard way, and hard things are hard, but new things are necessary if you are going to make your life better."

"... I guess."

"I know, Master."

Together we looked up to the clear night sky. Nothing else happened, so I allowed myself to slip away into a deeper sleep.

#dream

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polychr0matic · 7 months

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Pour a little salt. ~ S.B.

Author’s Note: This was just something I wrote because I had a bad day and needed to have something good to come out of it, which I think this is??? Been years since I’ve shared my writing so this may be terrible, sorry. ☹️ It’s also kind of incomplete. Perhaps a series if people respond well? Anyway, happy reading!

TW: Some self-deprecating thoughts and dialogue, Ravenclaw ‘reader’, no use of Y/N, brief mentioning of Wormtail and Snape.

Don’t look in the mirror. Don’t look in the mirror. Don’t look in the mirror. It was the current mantra that was ceaselessly repeating in my head and coincidentally, the only thing keeping myself from tumbling over the ledge into the abyss below. For now. I haven’t the foggiest idea how I got here or how I came to be like this, but it seemed like there was nothing that was going to change anytime soon. Might as well learn to deal. Right?

I inhale deeply through my nose and slowly blink a couple of times, allowing the surrounding world to come back into focus, a welcome distraction perhaps. Same deep blue drapes and bedding, clothes strewn about, spare bits of parchment and quills littered on bedside tables and even on the floor, Pandora’s crystal collection placed sporadically - even though she will say it’s intentional - on every windowsill and lately, popping up in our socks. It was what I was used to seeing day in and day out, never changing, making a mockery of me as if I didn’t already know. Tiresome. Frustrating. Pointless. Could not have chosen three better words in my humble opinion. A sigh soon escapes and I shake my head vigorously in an attempt to get back on track. So much for a distraction, eh?

With a quick, and stupid, look back over my shoulder, I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror and I struggle not to react, only managing to take in the ghastly bags under my eyes and the monstrosity, that some might call hair, piled on top of my head. Why did you do that? Nothing good ever comes of it. You never learn. I flinch, reeling back a bit before swallowing the lump that had formed in my throat. One would think I would be used to the commentary that just so happened to swirl through my mind as if it owned the place, but no - I’d never be that lucky.

I somehow managed to make it to almost all of my lessons that day without incident. Until Potions. The positive affirmations I had given myself to recite quietly clearly weren’t enough since it only took one single moment to unravel everything completely and send me into a deep spiral. Not that I was doing all that great to begin with, mind you, but I liked to think I had a pretty decent handle on things.

I was in my 6th year at Hogwarts and somehow ended up in Advanced Placement Potions with Slughorn at the end of the day, how thrilling, and let’s just say that nothing was going my way. We were working on Scintillation Solution and apart from putting incorrect amounts in, I was also hellishly allergic to the powdered unicorn horn and of course this particular potion used quite a bit of it. Unavoidable contact at best. Nevertheless, I grit my teeth and got to work, hoping that I would have something that would at least get a passing mark. Oh how wrong I was.

The space next to mine was taken up by none other than Snivellus Severus Snape, one of the most gifted in Potions, and from the moment Slughorn began, I could sense the animosity radiating off of him. Was it directed at me? No… It was for James Potter, who had arrived before anyone else to take up Severus’ usual spot next to Lily Evans, a self-satisfying smirk set upon his face. Which means I got the shit end of the stick. Wonderful.

I keep my eyes averted and focused dutifully on my Scintillation Solution, not paying the greasy git a single lick of attention, until my wand slips from my fingers and in a desperate attempt to catch it before it makes its new home in my smoking cauldron, I end up flinging powdered unicorn horn… Everywhere. I begin to cough, rough and grating, as the particles sneak their way into my sinuses, coating my skin and robes, the table; yeah, I wasn’t kidding when I said it was everywhere. And to make matters worse, like the allergic reaction I was having wasn’t enough, I even managed to get some on, you guessed it, Snape. The world must really hate me.

“Are you that incompetent that you can’t even hold onto your wand without making a proper mess? And you’re supposed to be a Ravenclaw,” Snape sneered with a distasteful curl of his upper lip. “You should be resorted back into Hufflepuff for how daft you are. And to think, I could’ve been sitting next to Lily.”

Now, in hindsight, he could’ve said a lot worse. Truly. I just couldn’t stomach it. Not after how I was this morning, head in a tizzy, not knowing which way was up, down, or sideways. It hit a little differently and I felt the familiar prickling sensation behind my eyes. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. I bite down on the fleshy inside of my cheek and clench my hands into fists, already feeling my body begin to shake and drop in temperature. I felt cold. Detached. I needed to get the every loving fuck out of here.

“Oh! My dear! Are you alright?” Slughorn. I swallow thickly and keep the tears at bay with all of my might before glancing up at the greying Professor with a tight smile, “Splendid. Although, I wouldn’t mind a trip to the Hospital Wing if that’s alright, Professor.”

“Of course, of course! I will excuse you for the rest of the lesson and come see me after Madam Pomfrey tends to you, I will allow you to redo your Scintillation Solution at a later date.”

I flash another tight smile in thanks as I shove my wand into my robes, grab my bag, and hightail it out of there. I catch the concerned looks from Lily and Sirius on the way, but with a slight shake of my head, I dismiss them both, classroom door slamming shut behind me.

“Madam Pomfrey fixed you right up! You look right as rain now!”

“Thanks Pete.” I squeeze his shoulder and offer my usual tight smile, not wanting to offend the poor guy when he meant well enough. “I feel much better as well.” Liar.

James tore his eyes away from the petite redhead in the corner that was currently talking with Marlene McKinnon to spare a glance my way, a small frown taking root on his lips, “Are you sure? Snivellus looked pretty pissed and I can’t help but feel responsible. I mean, I did take the only seat he sits in.”

I roll my eyes and wave him off, not wanting his sympathy nor his guilt. A witch could only bear so much after all. “Don’t let it tie your wand in a knot. I’m rubbish at Potions, so something would’ve happened regardless of who was sitting there.”

The curly haired Marauder opened his mouth to speak again before Remus cuts in, “You aren’t rubbish at Potions. I’ve seen your marks and believe me, there are worse.” Always the gentleman.

“Yeah! Can’t be worse than Wormtail. He didn’t even make it into Advanced Placement Potions, the tosser.” Sirius.

“HEY!”

A chuckle passes through my lips and I flick my line of vision upwards only to be met with storm clouds, seeming to swirl around as they observe silently. I momentarily lose my breath and cough into a fist, looking away but not before catching the knowing glint flash within the grey.

Ah, Friday. Last day of lessons and I happened to have bribed Remus with copious amounts of chocolate that I would buy at Honeydukes next Hogsmeade trip for his in-depth notes for Ancient Runes. Seriously, always a gentleman. Despite the bribe, oops.

It was cool outside, wind crisp and causing the fallen leaves from The Whomping Willow to rustle around, the spidery branches whipping around in irritation, and my skin grew cold as a result. I guess the cream colored jumper I chose to wear wasn’t doing a very good job at keeping me warm. Pity. I rub my hands together as I walk along the winding path that led down to Care of Magical Creatures, thankful that I seemed to be the only student bonkers enough to be wandering about with the wind being the way it was. I wasn’t much of a people person and the thought of having to actually hold a conversation of merit made my skin crawl. I shudder with a shake of my head and kick a couple of stones on the path, watching as they skitter off into the grass, thoroughly enjoying my own form of entertainment.

CRACK!

CRAAAAACK!

“Oh for the love of MERLIN!”

Sirius? What the hell was he doing out here? And where the hell was he at? My brow furrows as I follow the source of the noise and Sirius’ voice, coming to the edge of The Forbidden Forest. Of course the arse would go in there. I mean, why wouldn’t he? I should know better by now at this point really.

I step past the tree line with a squint of my eyes, even when there was still light in the sky it was darker than ever within, and call out, “Sirius?”

Nothing.

“Sirius, is that you?!”

Nothing.

“SIRIUS!”

“OOF!”

I land on the ground. Hard. Rocks and fallen branches dig into my back as I groan, beginning to wiggle around wildly to get out from under the crushing weight on top of me. My ribs were digging into my lungs and I wheeze, pushing my hands against a solid chest and beginning to shove. “Get off of me!”

“Sorry darling. I didn’t see you there.”

I huff, “Clearly.”

There’s a flash of white and a reverberating chuckle before the weight is lifted, Sirius Black now plopped beside my still flat form, casually sitting cross-legged like he hadn’t just knocked the damn wind out of me seconds before. I sit up and brush off my arms before zeroing in on the sharp Aristocratic features of the eldest Black brother. “What the devil are you doing out here in The Forbidden Forest? Full moon isn’t until next week so spare me the pathetic story of ‘preparing things for Moony’, please.”

Sirius simply stares; eyes twinkling with amusement they looked like molten silver today and the infamous signature smirk playing at his lips, “And to think I was under the impression that everyone bought that story time and time again. Guess I was wrong on that one, eh?”

“Obviously.”

“Okay Severus.”

“What did you just say?”

He holds up his hands then, slender fingers adorned with rings that matched his eyes and the knuckle tattoos that he and James thought were an ingenious idea one night after a bottle of Firewhiskey. “Nothing darling. Nothing.” Our eyes meet once more and I feel a warmth spread from the top of my head and down the length of my spine, goosebumps pebbling up as I shiver. The fuck was that? “Right. Are you going to answer my question or sit and stare some more?”

“I think I could stand to sit and stare for just a bit longer.”

If there were ever an Order of Merlin for the biggest eye roll one singular person could perform, I would’ve won. “Fine, be an arse. I’m leaving.” And with that, I stand and brush some more leaves off, stalking back towards the tree line and the awaiting path that led back up to school.

“Oi! Wait a minute! Let me walk you back!”

I ignore him and keep making a beeline up the path, Hogwarts being my destination and I needed to get there. Quickly. All I wanted was to get back to my dorm so I could get warm. I swear it had gotten ten degrees colder since being in and leaving the forest. I was shivering like mad now and I didn’t see it letting up until I got inside.

“Hey! WAIT!”

I don’t know why I stopped, but I did and with an exasperated sigh escaping my throat, “Bloody hell, Sirius! What do you want?! I’m freezing my tits off and I want to get inside!” I whirl around and cross my arms over my chest, hands buried into my armpits to starve off the chill, and fire in my eyes. I truly loved all of The Marauders, but I was at my wits end with this particular member of the group and he was about to see my wrath if he didn’t tread lightly.

Sirius stopped a few feet in front with raised eyebrows, that same bit of amusement still present, “No need to bite my head off. I told you I would walk you back and I intend to do so. Even if you are particularly cranky today and have been for the last few days might I add.”

“Cranky? I’m not cranky. I already told you that I’m freezing and want to get inside. Not my fault you can’t take a hint.” I bite back, taking a step further back as Sirius mimics by taking a step closer. The man was infuriating, I tell you.

The taller male looks even more amused, probably just to spite me, and takes another step closer, “I’m actually very good at taking hints, so with that point being made, allow me to elaborate further just to show you how right I am…” His tongue flicks out to lick his lips just as he takes another step, but this time I have the mind to step back again. “Why do you keep moving away when you clearly don’t want to?”

My breath catches in my throat and I freeze, eyes widening a fraction before I force a look of indifference, “What are you on about, Sirius?”

“I think you perfectly well know.”

“I don’t.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Hm.”

That one little syllable grated on my nerves more than a full blown soliloquy would’ve and I clench my jaw, turning on my heel and practically sprinting up the rest of the pathway until a hand wraps around the upper part of my arm, putting all movement to a halt.

Bloody HELL.

“Wha-?!”

“I said I was walking you back, so no snarky comebacks. Just walk.”

Well, alright then.

#polychr0matic #sirius black x reader #reader insert #x reader #harry potter #the marauders #marauders era #james potter #lily evans #remus lupin #marlene mckinnon #peter pettigrew #sirius black #writing #fanfiction

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candiedspit · 1 year

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NOTES ON BEING AN ANGEL

Drifting in through the open window are the sounds of a city on the gilded perch of the fresh, brisk promise of a New Year. (How fond we are of promises). I hear the golden pitches of trumpeting cabs, barking salesmen, a baseball game underway in the park, bicycles gunning through the naked streets, madmen mumbling truths beneath their salted breath.

All of this disgusting, glorious world. It is enough to break your heart.

I am a young thing, all body and mind. A clear glass of water for a mind. How the rush of images lace the abyss of my brain. How the images leap at me like starved fish. I wish I knew what it was to be held. I did, once. I was held in Rome beneath the pretty awnings, the misted rain which fell as though embarrassed at the realization of touch. I was beautiful, then. Alone, all those hours in the studio pacing, beaming, thinking thoughts which left me panting like a dog coming in from the heat. I peered into the lens as though it could love me. How the minutes felt like years. How lived I felt upon returning. As though I were a veteran with war pushed into my sights, as though I knew the sounds of detonation overhead.

I know nothing. I know myself as well as I know anything at all; my thin ankles and teacup pupils and the veil of hair which hangs from my skull. I have mastered the art of Francesca. (Francesca wants too much). And how fearful the world is of girls who know themselves. How the world flinches at a girl in her skin.

Nobody is home. All around me, silence falls like a thousand hefty anchors. I am laying on the cold with my back pressed against the polished hardwood. The scent of a candle burning in the kitchen. Oak and vanilla. I attempt to fall into the blue glare of the television but the headlines resound and everything else reminds me of the piercing needle in my soul. I burn.

Perhaps I was foolish to believe I could have what I want. I have seen everything. I have swallowed twenty-two swords in my lifetime. One for each year. I know the loneliness of Dahmer, the love of poets. I have killed the horse of dreams. I have ruined it all. I was beautiful in Rome.

But I am not to be seen. That much is clear. I am a thing to be scared into corners. I am a leviathan.

It is getting late. Outside, the snow is piled on the corners of shops.

I undress. Though it doesn’t feel as though I am losing anything by doing so.

I stand on the ledge. I give you one last chance. But nothing calls and nothing comes. The world is an open window; the world is undeserving. I open the window with my hands.

And fling myself into frame; into focus.

#my poetry #on francesca woodman!!!!

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saintescuderia · 2 months

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The Confusing Aftermath of Being Forgiven

AKA how Chandler Bing keeps teaching me life lessons

There's a scene in FRIENDS when Monica and Chandler have one of their first fights as a couple. Chandler says, "I guess this is it now." And Monica is surprised that her boyfriend, good old Chandler Bing, is calling it. "If you give up every time you have a fight with someone you'd never be with someone longer than... oh."

Now, I pride myself on being Chandler Bing. My wardrobe mirrors than of Season 1 and 2 Chandler's 90s oversized fits. I also try to copy his mannerisms and over the top drama by being the 'funny one.' My sarcasm, I believe, can't be any more sarcastic.

I didn't think I would accidentally mirror him in this also.

There's this weird aftermath, the dust settling after a fight. You accept your wrongdoing and apologise for how it made the other person feel. That's my philosophy; you apologise even if you didn't intend to hurt someone because you still hurt them. It's not an original idea and I will try my best to live up to that as much as possible. And I like to think I do it often. However, I forget what it's like to be forgiven and the person move on.

I just... can't. Let it. Go.

I sit there, twiddling my thumbs. Are they still mad? Have they stopped liking me? Has this put an indelible mark on our relationship that will characterise every future interaction we may now have until the day we both die? Am I really just a shit human being?

The answer is no. I know that. But I just can't accept it. Because I'm thinking that that's it! There's no more to it! They're done with me!

Of course, self-compassion et al. Van der Kolk would have a field day with the trauma. Still, I panic. Telling me that life will go on but still busy makes me want to fling myself into an abyss. I understand the importance of space and time but in my experience, that's just delaying the inevitably realisation that the other person is done.

I will like to then conclude the cynicism of today's March writing! by bringing it back to Chandler Bing. When Monica told him it wasn't over, he smiled widely. And couldn't stop for the rest of the scene. "Okay, great!" He all but started dancing.

If Chandler Bing could finally get to a point where he could accept that people work through it - that the right people will work through it - then let that be my final lesson from the fictional character.

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murasaki-cha · 9 months

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Saw this quote on a post because I read Kiss The Abby

Me: "flinging myself into the abyss"

Me: *bodyslams Abyss at full force*

#kiss the abyss #bl manhua #danmei

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einsteinsugly · 5 months

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2006. A Dead Father, a Living Son.

Mistakes, mistakes.

That's all he sees, etched in red pen. It's a mindless blur, a kaleidoscope of colors, as he lowers his joint.

Oh, crumpled bits of paper

Filled with imperfect thought

Stilted conversations

I'm afraid that's all we've got

Some remnant of a teacher joke remains at the tip of his tongue, but he sputters. "Maybe I should start using a green pen."

"Dad, you aren't editing the eulogy with red pen, are you?" A beam of light firmly breaks his hellish reverie, eying a printed page littered with red marks. Little red flags, dancing on the page. "Come on."

"I don't think I'm ready." Eric mindlessly gazes at the antsy redhead, the youngest of the bunch, with his jaded green eyes. "Do I have to wear a tie?"

Leah shrugs, her eyes a sharp kaleidoscope of green and blue. "Whatever makes you more comfortable."

"Okay." He unravels his tie, flinging it into a seemingly dark abyss. Only for Leah to swoop in and catch it, with a sassy smirk. "I feel a little bit better."

Leah playfully drapes the tie around her neck, like she's Avril Lavigne. An awkward, feeble attempt to lighten the mood, but she sadly sighs. "Only a little bit?"

"...Yeah." He twirls a red pen with one hand, and attempts to twirl a green pen with the other. Only for the green pen to fall to the floor. "I think your mom would be way better at this."

Leah rolls her blue-green eyes, nearly to the back of her head. As a voice of reason, she picks up the pieces, and sets the green pen back on his desk. "You'd be way better at this, if you weren't as high as a kite."

"Hey, I'm only high enough to keep myself from going crazy." Like mother, like daughter. "You should get your mom to yell at me, too."

So say it loud, say it clear (oh say it clear)

You can listen as well as you hear

Because it's too late, it's too late (it's too late)

When we die (oh, when we die)

To admit we don't see eye to eye

"You should turn that damn song off," She amply suggests, "It's kind of a Debbie downer."

"This song speaks to me," He dramatically defends, "It always reminds me of me and Dad. Kind of like how that Robert Munsch book reminds me of me and Mom. But that's way more pleasant."

Leah nods, the story firmly etched into her memory. "I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always. As long as I'm living, my baby you'll be?"

"See, but she's still living." A new reality is rearing its ugly head, and he tentatively pushes past a sea of denial. While balling his tepid fists. "I tried to talk to Dad during his living years, but...it always got complicated. We didn't really see eye to eye on anything."

"How about a sense of honor and duty?" Leah offers an awkward olive branch, patting her bewildered father on the shoulder. "Even though it was honor and duty for different things."

"He never liked the different things." An angry, nervous haze refuses to clear, as he speaks his heartfelt truth. "I was never enough of a man, even when I stood up for myself, because he didn't like what I stood for. Not for war, but for peace and love. Hippie things."

Bullets and books are very, very different entities. They're both tools, but one ends a life, and the other? Is a stepping stone, to many, many promising things.

"You just chose to fight different battles, and that's totally okay."

A kaleidoscope of memories flood his mind, a sea of valiant attempts and numerous failures, and he's firmly jaded. As the world keeps on churning, with or without him.

I couldn't make a difference, and Dad couldn't, either. "I think I lost them, just like he lost his."

#that 70s show #that 90s show #eric forman #red forman #kitty forman #eric and donna #donna pinciotti #leah forman #my ficlets

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