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wienerbarnes · 3 years

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Secret’s Out

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 1,796

Warnings: not much, brief slight angst i guess

A/N: back on my cheek to cheek bullshit 😌 after this one, im going to be posting some oneshots that date back to some of reader’s background and times before bucky! which im excited for :D enjoy!

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

Another mission, another briefing. You get the alert the morning of, the last minute meeting blaring in your room as you make yourself breakfast. You sigh and turn the stove off, accepting that you won’t have time to finish cooking and make it to the conference room in the next five minutes. You take the time instead to get dressed in what you normally wear to briefings and take your coffee to go.

When you arrive, there’s no one in the room, no one besides Sam and Bucky. Was the meeting for nine and not eight? Are you freakishly early? Could you have actually stayed and eaten your eggs and toast?

“Do you know what this is about? Because he won’t tell me.” Bucky huffs at you playfully, not actually angry, but still annoyed at the fact that Sam refused to tell him anything that’s going on until you got here.

You shake your head to tell him you don’t and slowly make your way over to the seat next to Bucky as Sam’s voice booms in the room.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., lock the door.” A distant click is heard as your bottom meets the chair and Bucky’s face becomes more and more confused.

Sam is silent for a moment, seemingly trying to figure out what words to say and how to start.

“I found a video of you.” He says.

“... What?” You whisper in disbelief.

“I was looking into your background. Specifically your HYDRA background. And I found a video that needs explanation.” As if on cue, a video is displayed behind Sam.

You are seen sitting at a small table, a small blender to the right of you. You look dangerously thin, hair greasy and matted, dark circles under your eyes. You have a crazy look in them, a look Bucky hasn’t seen since the first time he saw you in prison. This isn’t prison though, he very quickly realizes. Besides your body growing rigid next to him, he just knows that this is a HYDRA facility.

You’re humming obnoxiously loud in the video as a large man - presumably a Hydra scientist - steps into frame. He wears a light blue button down shirt tucked into slacks underneath a lab coat. The tune of Singin’ in the Rain is all that’s heard for the first few seconds of the video as you stare up at the man, watching him as he checks the blender.

“Shut up.” He finally snaps at you, growing annoyed with your loud humming.

“I’m singing in the rain! Just singing in the rain! What a glorious feeling, I’m happy again!” You yell out, screaming out the lyrics in tune before a loud crack sounds, as the man in the lab coat slaps you hard across the face.

Bucky flinches next to you and you barely remember what this video was. You’re more consumed by the fact that Sam was doing some kind of background check on you for some reason and the fact that there’s a video at all. I didn’t know they recorded me.

You seem to hold back a smile at the man, as though he told some amazing joke and you’re trying not to laugh, despite having been backhanded across the cheek.

“Turn on the blender.” The man commands.

“That’s a very nice shirt you’re wearing.” You compliment.

He ignores you as he waits for you to turn on the blender. Bucky looks closely at it, but the button is on the side closest to the handler. He takes a wild guess that they don’t expect you to just reach around and switch it on with your finger.

You suddenly remember what this video is. And you realize why Sam is so angry. This isn’t good at all.

“It’s a nice shade of blue. A calming shade of blue. Like a sky blue.”

“Shut up. Turn on the blender.”

“No, no, not a sky blue. More like a… cerulean.”

“So what, you like my shirt. Turn. The. Blender. On. Now!” He commands, voice raising as his patience wears thin.

“Cerulean… blue. A nice shade… of cerulean… blue…” You drift off.

That’s when Bucky sees it. A small label on the blender, Cerulean. Before his thoughts can spiral too deeply into the name of the blender, it's a loud whirring sound in the video, making him flinch once more.

Nobody touched the blender, it seemed to have powered on by itself and a wide smile grows on your face, the same one he saw in the other video he’s seen of you, when you escaped the Hydra facility. You giggle girlishly as the man leans forward and shoves his hand into the powered blender, blood splattering out of it immediately, spraying across your face and your smiling teeth and tainting the blue of his shirt and lab coat.

Four men crowd you, holding you by the head, by the neck, by the shoulders, gripping your chin even though you barely moved through the duration video and the shot switches to black before powering off completely.

Bucky finally peels his eyes away from where the video was playing to look at you, and you look terrified.

“Sam,” You try to start.

“Mind. Control.” He says.

“Sam -” You try again.

“You hid mind control from us!” He yells.

“I can explain! “You better, and I’m only giving you thirty seconds to do so.” He snaps.

“It - It was fight or flight! I don’t even know how I did that! I barely remember that video at all! I’ve only ever been able to do that one other time! Sam - Sam -” You stutter, “They injected me with all kinds of shit, kept me awake for days on end, fed me, starved me; they did anything to manipulate my body in order to manifest powers. You have to - to - to believe me, I don't know how I did that -”

You’re getting hysterical. You can not fuck this up. You can’t be on your own again. You can’t be living in fear all the time anymore, you can’t go back to that. You can’t be away from Bucky, you can’t lose Bucky, can’t lose Bucky.

“Sam, that’s enough.” Bucky finally speaks up.

“Buck, I know she’s your little girlfriend, but -”

“Sam, do you hear yourself right now?! Look at her!” You’re on the verge of hyperventilating and overall losing it.

Bucky doesn’t pay Sam attention long enough to hear anything he’s going to say before ducking down to where you hold your head in your hands.

“Can’t… can’t be alone again… no, no, no,… can’t” You mumble to yourself.

Sam takes a deep breath, calming himself in order to assess the situation before him, “Hey. Hey!” He snaps, catching your attention and making you look up, tears in your eyes.

“I may be angry at you for keeping this from me… but you’re not going anywhere. Do I wish you would’ve told me so I wouldn’t be surprised by some ominous video this morning? Yes. But we’ll figure it out. We’re a team and I’m not abandoning you. So stop the crying so we can deal with this. Because you need to tell me everything.” Sam tells you with seriousness in his voice, the Captain coming out.

You take a deep breath and wipe your tears, preparing to tell them everything you can remember.

…

You’re exhausted. You cried. A lot. Trying to sift through thousands of memories you spent so long trying to repress because you never wanted to remember them; you never thought you’d need to.

You tell Bucky that don’t feel like being around anyone the rest of the day, and you’re glad he accepts that, letting you have your alone time and leaving you with a promise for breakfast the following morning.

Meanwhile, Bucky calls up an old friend, someone he hasn’t talked to in years. But it’s the only person he can think of that might be able to help you get a hold of your powers.

He sits on his couch in his apartment, phone against his ear as the line rings, before an accented voice finally answers.

“Hello?”

“... Hey.”

“... Bucky? Is that you?”

“Yeah. It’s me. How soon can you be in New York? From wherever you are? I need some help.”

Morning comes too soon for you, though.

“Agent 51?”

“Oh… my god. What do you want?” You groan, loving F.R.I.D.A.Y., but hating her voice so early in the morning, with only seven minutes to spare before your alarm was supposed to go off anyway.

“Your training has been canceled this morning by Captain Wilson. Instead, he has requested that you meet him in Conference Room B.”

“Ugh, at what time?”

“As soon as possible, Agent.”

“Holy shit,” You sigh, accepting that you won’t be able to sleep anymore, “Fine, I’ll be there in ten minutes.” You hope that Bucky somehow knows your training is canceled and brings you breakfast in the conference room anyway as promised yesterday.

Making your way to the conference room with your coffee in hand for the second time in the span of two days - which you hope doesn’t become a routine - you might add, you make sure to rub a hand across your head, smoothing down any hairs sticking straight up at weird angles now that the hair is growing back. It’s only maybe an inch or two long, but not long enough to do anything to it and not short enough to ignore.

Entering the conference room, you see Sam, Bucky and some… woman, her back turned towards you. You close the door timidly behind you and Bucky turns around to greet you, styrofoam box in hand and the smell of bacon and toast hits your nostrils. Knew it.

“Brought you breakfast, baby.” He tells you with a smile, walking up to you to plant a soft kiss on your lips in Good morning.

“Ugh, ew.” Sam spews. The woman giggles at his reaction and you’re brought back to the stranger in the room.

“Who are you?” You ask, not really wanting to beat around the bush considering that Bucky just kissed you in front of somebody you don’t know, something he’s never done before.

The woman turns around and you take in her features. High cheekbones and big green eyes, she’s very beautiful but very… young. Like, really young. Younger than you, for sure, but not a teenager either. She wears what seems to be casual clothes, her nails painted dark with rings crowding her fingers. Her most striking physical detail, though, are the long waves of bright orangey-red hair, flowing across her shoulders.

She smiles at you sweetly, and you feel calm as she introduces herself, “Hi, I’m Wanda.”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel #AHHHHH im so excited for this #new character: unlocked

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letfatewritethewords · 3 years

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I process things with art. I process with written words in the hopes that one day it can be spoken without my voice shaking. This week has been one for the books.. and I decided to share. This is long, but I want to remember what I’m learning.. how I’m processing.. if you decide to read, thank you. If not, this will still be here as a reminder of my progress every year.

I always tell people that there was no reason for my name, but it’s a lie. I’m named after Samantha on BeWitched. My grandfather loved that show and suggested it when my mother couldn’t decide. I was born in early September and that makes me a Virgo. Astrology is one of my favorite things. There’s something extraordinary about the idea that we’re connected to the universe by the positioning of the stars. Sometimes it’s so vague.. but other times, it’s right on the nose and my horoscopes will make me cry. Speaking of that, I’m an empath and a 2. When I’m unhealthy, I’m a 4 and If you know what any of that means, I’d love to talk to you more about it. Winter is my favorite season. Fall is a close second. I love the snow and how muted everything is. I like the quiet, the beauty. Sometimes, the light from the sun will shimmer off a fresh coat of snow on the ground. It is absolutely blinding, but I’d still stare, and when the snow fell at night, I’d watch it under the street light across from my house and it felt like time stood still. When I was little, I would lay in the yard full of snow, alone, in my puffy suite, until my fingers and toes would go numb from the cold, listening to the silence, but the best part of those days was going back into my grandparents house and warming up with hot coco made on the stove, wrapping myself in a soft blanket and watching old movies with my grandfather. To me, the Winter is magical. My love languages are Quality Time and Acts of Service. I’m an introvert but I love people. I like to observe, I like to really understand how the mind works and Im eager to help. I thrive in controlled chaos. I like puzzles, I love music, I like crafts, I like to fix things because grandpa always taught me that nothing is to broken to fix. Nothing. No one.

This is the light. This is the part of me that I give willingly to anyone I meet. I wear it on my sleeve. It’s only the light. Until the last 2 years.. this was all I could give of myself because I’ve always been scared of the dark.

The darkest part of me lasted 8 years, my rock bottom lasted 4.5, but as a whole it’s taken up almost 12 years of my life. Sometimes I worry that all I'm ever going to be is this thing that happened to me. That this will define me for the rest of my life and I need to remind myself that I’m a person that can live separate from an event.

I went to the police station this week, I filled out more forms. I’ve filled out so many forms over the last 2 years. For an emergency restraining order this time. For Florida this time. I knew it would eventually follow me here but typhus felt too soon. The clerk called me brave. I smile and thank them every time but I never know how to respond to that. She has no idea how weak it feels and I mean.. how could she. This is the right choice, the obvious choice, the smart choice. In a different situation, it’s one of the many steps I’d be urging someone else to take. In all the chaos, all the hurt, in all the anger and sadness.. it always circles back to “I loved him”. I did. I wanted to fix him. I wanted to see him grow and heal and if I loved him hard enough for the both of us, it would’ve evened out eventually… right?

I failed.

He was always who he was, but I was young and naive and ready to fix the whole world. When I was 18 and we were free, I would’ve told you he saved me. Now that I’m in my 30’s… and he’s in prison and I’m in limbo.. I don’t know what I’d tell you. He didn’t save me, but he didn’t destroy me either. I had every opportunity to tap out and give up.. but I grew into a person I might not have been if I never met him.

Am I angry? All of the time.

Am I scared? Yes.

I see things more clearly now though. People talk about how you never know someone’s story, and that’s because we are experts at playing pretend like we have it all figured out until we’re alone and have to face truest selves. The facade is the hardest thing to give up. Some people saw through mine and there are others, who have built their own, that never will. I share posts about what I’ve learned, how I see people, how I’ve try to treat people with grace and teach children with love and patience in hopes that a little of that sinks into whoever it reaches, but I very rarely show the journey. Partly because I know the details are gruesome and that’s not for everyone, but mostly because I’m scared.

How will you see me?

What will you think?

I’m learning that I’m not this big awful thing that happened to me. I was never anyone’s property and I’m not chained to it anymore. I was very much lied to and manipulated and hurt long enough that it flipped onto me and I carried it without missing a step. I wanted to love him so much that I would heal him. Instead, he “loved” me so much it almost killed me, and he did call it love. Enough times that he re-defined it and I didn’t use that word for a very long time in any meaningful situation. He, for better or for worse, drastically changed the trajectory of my life.

But it’s ok.

I’m wounded but I’m healing. I’m lonely, but I’m learning how to slowly welcome more people in and step out of my comfort zone. If I’m being honest, I’m relearning a lot of things, including how to exist in a world where I have room to make mistakes and fail. I can say or do the wrong thing and be gently corrected for it by my people and move on … sans violence. There are no words for amount of relief I feel because of that truth.

Is it over? No.

He was sentenced to 7 years last year and every year around mid July early August there is an opportunity to apply for an appeal based on his behavior, which will always be immaculate because he is not as tough as he thinks he is. This means that if he applies and it goes to trial, I’m also notified and have to reappear, show any new evidence, and reexplain why he needs to stay there for the safety of others and myself. Telling my story once a year on a whim to a room full of strangers, always men, so they can decide my fate, as well as the fate of this “upstanding young man with a good head on his shoulders” (actual words used during my initial rape/domestic abuse trial against him), was never what I imagined finally turning him in would look like. I really never thought that after everything, his sentence wouldn’t even be as long as our relationship. The original sentence was 5 years. After he got out on a Governor Cuomo Covid related prison loophole and broke his parole almost immediately, he was sentenced to another 2 on top of that. He has 6 left. We talk about how flawed our system is, but really seeing it is a different kind of punch. Women aren’t believed. There’s a reason so many of these crimes go unreported, and why so many women die at the hands of angry men. The hoops you have to jump through are miles high and on fire, and when you and the advocate show up armed only with your truth, your tears and a little evidence from one night at a bar when he got to drunk and forgot he was in public, it’s very easy for a judge to rule on the softer side. Because, as you all know, we’d never want to ruin a wealthy mans life unless there’s cold, hard, reason to.

Seeing his face when they read out his sentence, after years of terror, was satisfying to say the least and if I hadn’t been so numb to get through the hearing, I would’ve enjoyed it more. I will never forget going to a trusted friends house after that hearing and being completely overwhelmed with all of the emotions. Relief, guilt, sadness, anger, happiness, fear.. so many I couldn’t express.. all at once because the novocain wears off and numb isn’t forever and I fell asleep with their dog after a lot of crying. I’d be lying though if I said that 18 year old in me didn’t feel a loss. I grew up with incredible grandparents that did amazing things in teaching me how to love people and be a good human, but no one can protect us from everything. I also grew up with a mother who fights demons of her own and never had the capacity to love two kids. In a situation like that, someone becomes the punching bag. I became the punching bag and desperately looked for ways out, an opportunity to run.. and I ran right into him, who accepted me with open arms for the first time in my young, very inexperienced life.. and I followed him blindly and he was my whole world. Until I was 27, I didn’t have a guide. By the grace of God I landed into a community in Florida that slowly helped me realize my worth.

So.. what now.

How do we fix what our parents and past broke?

How do you reparent yourself?

The mental health journey is proving to be my biggest struggle yet. There’s no more outside factors, it’s just me and the lies that have fed me for years and altered how I think and feel and understand the world. I can feel myself frustrating people I’ve let close to me. I feel myself getting nervous and pushing people away. Sometimes I can catch it and regroup, other times that nasty little voice is too loud and I’m exhausted. My goodness though, how cool is it to learn so much about yourself? I know I have the capacity to love that broken part of me eventually, but it’s still hard to face. Getting to learn and understand the reason behind your actions is terrifyingly amazing. I am proud of this journey. Even when I don’t always come up on top. It’s hard to see the progress while you’re in it, but laying it all out like this.. I can safely say I’m never going to be that 18 year old girl ever again. Some days this journey looks different, some days the darkness wins, because healing isn’t linear. Sometimes it’s one step forward, 2 steps back… but nothing is too broken to fix.. and I will never call that darkness home again.

#lonliness #abuse survivor #survivor #domestic violent relationships #domestic violence #processing

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adarlingsnightmare · 4 years

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Chuuya Nakahara Yandere Alphabet

Anonymous said:

Sounds good! How about the alphabet for chuuya? :3c

accidentally posted this to my main blog after writing a huge apology for my lack of posting :/ i keep doing that unfortunately. anyways, ive had a full week exams which is why i havent been posting. im extremely tired and stressed but i will try to get more requests done this week, though i have another week of exams. i do apologise, but itll be over soon. i hope you enjoy anon, this short bastard is one of my favs. <3

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Chuuya would gladly smother you in endless kisses and cuddles, but if you tell him to back off, he'll stick to just having an arm around you (because god forbid he isn't touching you in one way or another). You'll often hear him whispering how much he absolutely adores you when he thinks you're asleep, and when you're visibly awake he'll be showering you in compliments.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Oh, Chuuya will undoubtedly do whatever it takes to keep you safe, even if that results in bloody murder. He's in the mafia after all, what's a little blood on his hands, especially in the name of love?

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Chuuya would only mock you if you consistently failed to escape or were getting punished by him. Otherwise, he is generally loving and as romantic as possible. He will always make sure you're eating and sleeping properly, snapping at you if you refuse to eat as he gets awfully worried about you sometimes.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling's will?

No, not really. The only instances where something's against his darlings will is when he's punishing them. Other than that, it's mainly abduction and the lack of freedom to talk to people.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Chuuya confides in his darling, and will show a side of himself that no one else ever sees. He'll ask for advice on work matters and will constantly seek love and reassurance from his darling. While outwardly he may still appear tough and cocky, he's really soft for you.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

He would be pretty irritated and though he'd never admit it, quite hurt. Why can't you just love him, goddamnit?! He'll try not to hurt you too much, but if you're not backing down he will use force to get you to stop.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Chuuya doesn't enjoy it in the slightest. His love for you isn't some 'game' and seeing you try to escape both infuriates and saddens him. All he truly wants is to be a happy, normal couple so your refusal to love him is not something he enjoys.

Hell: What would be their darling's worst experience with them?

Chuuya isn't always fully aware of how strong he actually is, especially when he uses Corruption and becomes out of control. This can lead to a terrifying situation where you're worried for your life as a monster in your boyfriend's body goes on a rampage and destroys everything around him. It rarely happens, as Chuuya really doesn't want to hurt you, but when it does it's a living nightmare.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Honestly, Chuuya doesn't really know what kind of future he wants for him and his darling, but ideally you two would move to some beautiful island — somewhere in the Caribbean, maybe? — get married, possibly start a family and live out the rest of your days in bliss.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Luckily, Chuuya isn't insanely possessive and doesn't lash out just because you looked at someone else, but he is paranoid. He has to keep you away from other people because, what if they attempt to hurt you? The only instance where he would genuinely become jealous is if Dazai was involved. This is when you'll see his full yandere side come out and it will be extreme: locking you up in highly secure room, restraining you, putting tracking devices in everything you own, anything to ensure your safety. If you were to show an interest in Dazai, whether platonic or even worse, romantic, his paranoia and jealousy would spike up tenfold — essentially guaranteeing you'll never see the light of day again.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Chuuya is generally really loving and calm towards his darling, still messing with them and lovingly calling them an idiot, but always so soft when speaking. However, if you were to be a brat, his rougher, more 'mafia' side would make an appearance— any soft words of reassurance thrown out the window.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

The 'traditional' way: flirting with you, taking you out on fancy dates and gifting you jewellery and flowers. He may seem smooth but he usually has to ask people (Kouyou) or the internet for advice on how to win someone's affections. He's also very observant to what you're interested in, so if you mention preferring movies to fancy dinners, that's where your next date will be.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Yes, but in a good way. Instead of being his 'tough executive' persona, when he's around you, he'll reveal a much sweeter and softer side of himself. He's also surprisingly affectionate, taking every opportunity to be as close to you as possible.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Chuuya doesn't generally plan out punishment, he tends to go into a fit of rage and attack you with whatever is nearest. Usually it results in you being choked, slammed repeatedly against the floor or him almost breaking your ribs with his foot. Once he's calmed down is when he will decide on a proper punishment, such as keeping you restrained to the bed, taking away certain privileges or maybe if you've really done something bad... a more permanent solution will be used.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

As long as his darling was relatively compliant, Chuuya's only real restriction would be the ability to go outside alone without the safety of his watchful eye. Of course, if you betrayed his trust, any hint of freedom you had previously would be stripped away.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Chuuya tries to be patient, he really does, but he's just so hotheaded that he often ends up snapping at his darling whenever they act up in the slightest.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

To put it simply: no. No one else can make Chuuya feel this way, and without his wonderful darling, he feels distanced from the world. It is likely he would continue working for the Port Mafia (unless they were involved in your escape/death), a mere shell of his former self only existing to serve the mafia rather than actually living.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Chuuya would feel a small amount of guilt if he had to kidnap you, but his belief that it's necessary for your protection would overrule the guilt. He would absolutely never let you go, you're like the anchor that keeps him human; he cannot lose you.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Like Dazai, Chuuya feels almost inhuman, like he is a foreigner in someone else's body, yet when he brushed hands with you, he felt something real. This is what drives him to get to know you: the desperation to be human. The more he spends time with you, the more this feeling increases — leading him to be unable to just allow you to leave him. Ironically, he becomes less human the more time he devotes to you.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Chuuya really doesn't like seeing you upset, and it hurts his heart having to punish you when you're so upset, but some things are just a necessary evil. If you've done something he considers to be really bad, he will be apathetic to your tears, believing you deserve whatever you're suffering.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Unlike a lot of yanderes, Chuuya does respect your boundaries to a degree, and won't force you to do anything you really protest against (aside from letting you go, of course).

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Chuuya has to leave for work nearly everyday, so if you're smart and able to break locks, you have a fairly good chance of escaping. However, even if you do escape, Chuuya will find you again, and he won't take the betrayal lightly.

Wit's end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Chuuya has a pretty short temper, especially when it comes to the safety of his darling, so if you persistently tried to escape or "put yourself in danger" (interacting with Dazai, refusing food), he may snap. As stated previously, he doesn't enjoy your pain, but sometimes it's necessary to get you to listen.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Despite his sometimes arrogant nature, Chuuya sees his darling as on an entirely separate level to himself. He practically worships you, though he doesn't always like to show it (he's got to keep up his tough guy persona after all) and would gladly do anything you asked. His loyalty to you is even able to override his loyalty to the Port Mafia.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Chuuya would make an effort to woo you, buying you flowers and taking you out on fancy dinners, hoping that you'll end up wanting to be in a relationship with him. He'll vehemently deny being so desperate to be with you, but it's pretty obvious he's hopelessly in love. If you were to continuously reject his advances, he may eventually end up kidnapping you, but only if he thought you were in danger (or that another person was making a move on you).

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

If he did end up breaking you, it wouldn't be intentional. All Chuuya wants is your unconditional love and affection, but he can get desperate if you're not showing it and will make you say how much you love him, even if you have to be put through hell to achieve it.

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neojeno · 4 years

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I really wouldn't mind you aiding me with some tutorials love

giffing tutorial/resources

hi anon! sorry it took me so long to answer. i figured this might be helpful for others out there who have asked me similar questions, so i’ve compiled a pretty comprehensive list of tutorials/resources. idk about others but when i was new to giffing, it took me a lot of painful effort to go around and look for resources, so i’m putting it all here to make it a little easier!

i download videos using 4k video downloader. it will download very good quality 1080p videos in .mp4 format. if you’re downloading a 4k video, make sure to change the setting option to .mkv so that you get 4k and not 1080p—for obvious reasons since you want the highest quality.

i rely on kpopexciting to get .ts files — which are basically raw, very high quality video files for live performances. they are much less grainy than .mp4 versions of live performances—which are the ones you’ll see uploaded to youtube. i’ve found that 4k videos (in .mkv) are just as good quality as .ts, but obviously you will rarely see live performances in 4k, so get .ts when you can!! you can also try to find .ts files on twitter, but you may have to do a lot of digging. i wish i could recommend you twitter accounts, but the ones i used to go to have been very inactive/taken down all their drives :( but this website is really nice and updated frequently so i would recommend it!

vapoursynth links + download. the reason you would use vapoursynth is to resize your gif, while maintaining the optimal quality of the gif. if you gif without vapoursynth (.ie only using photoshop), it will still be fine, but the image quality may be grainier. also, you will definitely need vapoursynth to gif .ts files —more will be explained in the tutorial i’ve linked below. i would recommend that you have a high processing/lots of ram/newer desktop or laptop to use vapoursynth so that 1, your computer isn’t fried and 2, your vapoursynth process will go a lot faster. i am using a 2017 macbook pro for all my work, and it runs pretty well, but my laptop still gets pretty hot so just make sure you’re not running a million things in the background while using adobe products and vapoursynth lol. i used a pretty old and beat up 2011 model macbook air back then, and i will say that yes vapoursynth worked and ran on it, but it took much longer, and basically fried the laptop’s battery (aka i had to get the battery changed twice and the laptop would die randomly) but issok it was a school borrowed laptop so i didn’t feel too bad lol. im just saying this as a precaution, to preserve the health of your electronic devices!! but don’t be afraid to use vapoursynth! you should still try it at least once.

thank you to @realstraykids for this super detailed, really nice tutorial! it includes how and where to download videos, how to gif using vapoursynth, using photoshop, comparisons, coloring, and pretty much all you need to know. 10/10 would recommend

thank you to @dreamcolouring for this lifesaver!!! the best and easiest way to blur out unwanted captions/objects in your gifs. i recommend doing this step after converting your frames to video timeline and before you do sharpening and coloring. another tip i’ll add is to feather the selection you’ve made right before you click on “add vector mask” —this will make sense once you’ve read through the tutorial. feathering it will make the blurred spot less noticeable and more subtle.

i use this generator to create gradient colored captions! copy and paste your text, then select the colors you want. generate the code, and copy it. change the settings of the text editor on your post to HTML. paste the code, preview, and voila! add elements <blockquote>,<b>,<i>, etc as needed. see more on colored captions in this tutorial by @kylos --i believe op mentioned a different and better color generator but for some reason it won’t work for me :( hopefully it works for u! basically same idea as the previous generator i mentioned.

my own mini tutorial/workflow process of making gifs. this includes working with a .ts file, vapoursynth, photoshop, coloring, watermarking, etc. and a few of my own tips below:

if you are working with an .mp4, you do not have to make any changes to the preprocessor/denoise filters/sharpening in the resizing part of vapoursynth—it doesn’t make that big of a difference if you do. but if you are working with a .ts file, definitely do make those changes,, that’s the whole reason you have vapoursynth. with an .mp4, i like to use vapoursynth to just resize, but i don’t add any additional settings. i use smart sharpen in photoshop to sharpen it, which is pretty good on it’s own (at least in photoshop 2020!).

my rule of thumb is to do add .02 seconds when i am setting frame delay. so if when you first import the frames, they are at 0.04 seconds, i usually change them to 0.06. of course, this is my personal taste—you can make all your gifs faster or slower depending on how you want em to look.

if you are on a mac, you can screen record by pressing Command+Shift+5 (it’s a shortcut to quicktime screen recording). I only screen record for things like the beyond live concert or other live streamed events. the image quality of the screen recording, in my experience, is actually pretty good. when you gif the screen recording however, you may notice that it adds extra frames that you don’t need. by that i mean duplicate frames. you could keep the duplicate frames but that just means the size of your gif is going to be much bigger (keep in mind the limit is 8mb). in order to remove those duplicates, my only solution has been to remove them manually (by holding Command while selecting), or when you are importing the video to frames, select the option to “limit to every 2 frames”—but this method will be less precise and still not as good as manually removing frames. if you remove the duplicate frames, this means you will need to set the frame delay even slower, to make up for lost frames. in my experience, fps(frames per second) and frame delay work in conjunction. so for example, if i delete every other frame because they are duplicates, but the starting frame delay is 0.02, i am now going to change it to something like 0.05 (so i added 0.03 seconds rather than my usual 0.02). if the duration length and the image dimensions of the gif are short/small, feel free to keep the duplicate frames in—i only delete duplicate frames in order to keep my gif under the 8mb limit. then, if you keep the duplicate frames in, continue with your standard frame delay preferences. now that i’m writing this im realizing this might not make a lot of sense lol.. but don’t worry about it for now and if you run into trouble w screen recorded gifs then you can come back to this for reference. again, this is only my experience recording on a mac—it may be a lot different if you use a screen recording program or are on a pc.

i don’t really use .psd templates because i like to give every gif/gifset it’s own unique coloring—so i remake the coloring every time, but if you get into a rhythm it’s pretty easy. there are a lot of nice coloring tutorials out there, too! my personal coloring adjustments in order: levels, exposure, color balance, selective color (if needed), vibrance, photo filter (if needed), color lookup (i use 2strip most often and i put it on ‘color’ blending mode). don’t forget to adjust the opacities and fills of the ‘color lookup’ adjustment layer in case it’s too strong. go back to correct each adjustment layer as needed. then, when you’re done and satisfied, group all those layers, copy the group (you can do an easy command+c), and paste it onto the next gif you’re working on for easy workflow.

if for some reason you can’t see the frames when you import your layers/video, it’s likely because your ‘timeline’ window isn’t showing up. just go to the window menu on photoshop, go to the bottom and you’ll see ‘timeline.’ make sure it has a check next to it.

i recommend watermarking your gifs because a lot of people like to repost tings these days 😠 - so make sure u got your brand on it! i keep my watermark saved to my ‘libraries’ in photoshop so it’s ready when i need it. i use the blending mode ‘overlay’ and adjust the opacity, but if you don’t want to do that you can also add a stroke/shadow to your watermark/do all sorts.

tag #nctinc for your nct creations and #jenonet for your jeno creations!!

here’s my own mini tutorial (well not much of a tutorial ig more like a work process vid?): took about ten minutes including the time to search and download the video (but i didn’t record that part i trust yall know how to do that), vapoursynth, and exporting. i hope this helps somewhat! feel free to ask more questions whenever :)

youtube

keep in mind that giffing takes a lot of patience, energy, and experience—so don’t worry if it takes you a bit to figure things out or if your gifs don’t turn out the way you want them to the first time around. we all start at the same place and all run into problems. i know giffing can sound intimidating and seem like a lot of work, but i promise, once you get into a routine, giffing is going to happen in minutes—and you’ll get beautiful gifs. have fun! 😊

#anon #answered #tut #tuts #giffing tutorial #should i make a tut/resources post on gfx? not rly sure if gfx can be taught.. it's like a lottt about personal style imo lol #hope this helps!#not just for anon but for anyone

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dear-yandere · 3 years

Text

—ask collection!

a collection of mostly very old chats and sweet asks that i never got around to answering! thanks for the patience and love!!

beware, fairly long post... woops....

chat asks.

darling: Eu-jin is best boy. Change my mind.

vanya: i am physically incapable of fulfilling that request, how dare you do that to me... i’m biased since he’s my own oc, but i would die for my (very best) boy eu-jin... who can resist such a gentle yandere that loves you so whole-heartedly?

that reminds me! he’s actually based off of kuroyuki and gekkamaru from the otome nightshade, so if you want similar characters by any chance, do check them and the game out ♡

darling: I was watching the dub for Part 5 of JoJo's Bizarre adventure yesterday...Mista called himself Daddy and I like- sdfghjfgsdhnhnmj!! My heart can't take this--

vanya: WAIT HE DID???? i’m not even big on daddy kink and reading that made me go 😳 this is vital information to know... what episode was this??? for research purposes, of course. gotta perfect my yan! mista, after all~...

darling: for yandere songs, have you heard of the major to minor covers by chase holfelder :O? the way he delivers the lyrics in some songs (betty, all i want for christmas), added with the key changes to minor, is really fantastic, and gives a stalker-ish vibe imo! and he's a really good singer in general

vanya: i have!! a good chunk of them are actually on my personal yandere playlist, so i end up hearing them frequently when i’m writing!! i haven’t been keeping up with his uploads recently, so ‘betty’ is completely new to me and just, wow???????????? this man is an absolute god send for us “romantic” horror fans... ♡

this ask gave me such a lovely idea, though, darling: assigning yandere types/mbti based off each of chase’s minor key covers. i think i’ll do that just for you. ♡

darling @blossomiich: I reread some of your old character interaction asks and saw the one with Jotaro hugging his Darling after a panic attack and the elephant seal plush reminded me of the iconic C H O N K Y ringed seal plushie that was kinda trending and I can totally imagine Jotaro having one of those >w< that's so adorable!

vanya: i honestly don’t remember that interaction, but then again i don’t remember most things hmghng so i looked it up and

j...just imagine star plat hogging it and not letting joot cuddle with it 🥺 the duality of man...thank you for this cute image...

darling: Umm, sorry for asking this. I'm just curious because of your bio language in your header. Are you Chinese too, perhaps?

vanya: no worries!! i’m mixed guyanese (indian, chinese, & possibly black and/or portuguese), but my family only celebrates (or rather, acknowledges?) our indian descent, since the majority of our family is predominantly east indian.

my header is actually a quote from a danmei novel (and one of my all-time favorite fandoms), tiān guān cì fú (heaven’s official blessing)!

darling genki stan anon: Omg you're writing for free now, i didn't expect that one lol. It's a cute show innit? Not a nagi stan but I feel like nagisa has that kinda unsnapped personality that would make him peak delusional yandere material lolol like oikawa but less threatening and without his head being up his own ass 😂. Hope you're doing well!! -gsa

Gdjsjs im such a fool, i think my last ask said something about not thinking you'd write for free when i literally just pointed out kisumi on your sideblog LMAO my bad 😅 😂 also ill hold back on the gen chan requests because ive already asked so many in the past! Thank you though 🥺. Also feel free not to post this, it can just dip into my onesided chats with my lil flower 💐 so long as you receive them im fine 😌 -genki stan anon

vanya: nagisa isn’t my favorite (kisumi is), but gods if he wouldn’t make a great yandere. honestly, out of the iwatobi boys, nagi is probably the most unhinged. i wouldn’t peg him as delusional, at least not at first; i think he’s very lucid and knows exactly what he wants and how to manipulate people in order to get it!!! kisumi is fairly similar now that i think about it... i might... have a type...

please feel free to send in gen-chan requests whenever you want!!!! i’m kinda super asocial, so it’ll take me a while to answer, but i love getting asks from you since you’re so sweet and excitable!!! your little flower reads and cherishes them all!! 🥺

also darling genki stan anon: Sorry for spamming you with asks hdjkdks, u dont even need to reply im just kinda brain empty venting here whether you recieve them or not 😂 i just needed to confess that while yes i am #1 gen simp, and he is undoubtedly my fave oc of yours but that Ilya tentacle smut had me very much so highkey kinda 👀, had to re read the genki oral style drabble to bring my head back. He dont even need to worry about luca bc that man a thot. I think therin is a thot too but like lowkey, a classy thót -gsa

vanya: omg i’ve kept this one for forever mnmghngh i might’ve even answered at some other point, now that i think about it... but i just 🥺 gosh i hope i find my muse soon, because i really wanna write you a genki fic 🥺 hhhh

the ilya tentacle smut was so in character for that boy... i have no clue how to write monsters, much less tentacles, but i’d honestly do anything for him 🙏 kinky russian boy...

therin is definitely a classy thot, the kind that only bangs the finest concubines then turns around and slut shames you for banging the very same prostitutes gbfmngnfg rules don’t apply to him, in his kingdom...wish that were me tbh ✊😔

sweet asks.

darling one: i've read almost all of your dazai and chuuya fics and i love them so much!! your formatting is also super aesthetic just a question, i saw on your kofi that you also draw so i was wondering if you drew all the header arts?? bc they're all super pretty :) have a great day!

darling two: Just wanted to say love the writing and the way your format your posts is so aesthetically pleasing. One day I hope my posts looks half as good as yours because I legit can't get over how pretty and organized it looks.

vanya: omg thank you so much!!!! one of my bffs, yue, is to thank for the formatting and aesthetic choices, really! if you wanna see more of her aesthetic formats and posts, she actually runs a few blogs! you may know her as @milkscafe, formally @milkaaton! i adore her and her aes choices so much 🥺

as for the headers, i don’t draw 99.98% of them! i have drawn a couple, but they’re so few and far in between since i almost never finish my art wips haha... my older posts are lacking proper credits because i’m an absolute idiot, but i’m slowly working my way backwards to credit them all where possible! they’re all indeed super pretty!!!

have a great day yourself, my love!!

darling: THEY’RE NOT BAD CONTENT, I LOVE THEM ALL

vanya: this was in response to a now-deleted lil blurb but i kept it in my inbox because i wanted to say i love u very much and seeing this ask each time i open my inbox makes my heart skip a beat ♡

darling: Listen I love your writing, you inspired me to start it myself! I've always loved to write, and read of course but your style and concepts just stick with me. If you where to write something besides Yandere content/fandom content and started your own series? I would read the shit, out of it. I'm always nervous to interact with my favorite writers because you know, I'm afraid of the impression I'd leave but I just wanted to say this anyway! 💞💞💞🔫😳

vanya: wowowow fgfnmgnfmngfg that’s such a high compliment my brain just gmfnbgmnf go boom fogjfngnfg and thank you for the interaction, us writers truly appreciate it no matter how awkward or nervous you think you may be / come off!!!

darling one: As a writer, your post struck a nerve with me. I don’t send feedback to writers I like nearly as much as I should (and certainly not as much as I’d like in return as a writer). So, as such, I’m going to start doing that when I can, starting with you.

You are an incredible writer. You were one of the first yandere writing blogs I found and you’re still one I check in on regularly to see what you have been working on. You can portray a sense of suspense and intrigue in a natural way that many other writers - published ones included - struggle with. You delve into the darkness without it feeling forced, and you have an amazing grasp on the psyches of the characters you write for (which is a quality I adore in writing and strive toward myself).

I’m not great at ending these things so I guess.. you keep doing you? Because the you is great and I appreciate it.

darling two: hey. i'm here to tell you that from the bottom of my heart i love you and your writings. i really admire your writing skills. you inspire me. one of your posts once saved me from a nervous breakdown. thank you for everything you do. you're a wonderful person. good luck!

darling three: I wanted to tell you that thank you for writing such wonderful beautiful writings and that you take time to edit and write I hope you are taking care of yourself 💖❤

darling four: Thanks. I was having a hard time and deleted all my apps, but as soon as i opened my phone my first instinct was to look at your blog and i got my motivation back. Thanks (:

darling five: Hi ! I just wanted to say I really enjoy the stories you write and how they are detailed so well ! Stay safe and I hope you have a good day/night ! ლ(╹◡╹ლ)

vanya: ahhhh, these are very old asks mostly dating back to my “tumblr writing community is dying” post, and i’ve kept them this entire time because i’m just so starstruck. i have no clue how to reply to compliments, so i’m not sure what else to say besides that these asks made me very happy and got me through a few insecure moments!!! i’ve actually been feeling a little down about my writing recently, mostly because of lack of motivation / inspiration, so revisiting these really warmed my heart, so thank you truly ♡ i’m certainly keeping the originals in my inbox until the end of time!!

darling @monstrously-obsessed: psst, this local cryptic mom thing send all of their love for you 💕

vanya: your local herbo says she loves you very much momster 🥺 mwah

also, to the anon worried about my safety:

thank you so much for pointing that out!!! it hadn’t even crossed my mind when i made those ocs, so i appreciate your concern! i was contemplating revamping those two as is, so this is a great place to start! thank you again!!

#asks collection #not a fic #vanya rambles #[ vanya LITERALLY rambles ]#[ life's hard when you're this asocial i swear fgmnfgnmfg ]#[ now to answer concept asks ]

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fandom-trash-xl · 3 years

Text

One-Shot: The Small and the Shiny

Timeline Placement: Age 784 (The 28th World Martial Arts Tournament!)

______

"Now, don't get into too much trouble, you two."

Today was the day of the twenty-eighth World Martial Arts Tournament and the two Saiyans, Goku and Vegeta, weren't the only ones who were ecstatic.

Five-year-old Pan, granddaughter of Goku, was finally ready to participate in her first tournament. Due to her Saiyan genetics, she was a combat prodigy, allowing her to easily hold her own amongst adults. She had even flown around the planet in the span of minutes just that morning.

However, it would be a while before the main event would begin and Pan was dead set on perusing the various activities around the area with her grandpa.

"We won't, dad!" Pan assured her father.

"Hey, don't sweat it, Gohan! She's in good hands." Goku gave a reassuring smile.

"With you, that's debatable." Chi-Chi sighed.

“Ah, come on, Chi-Chi...” The Saiyan looked back at his wife almost pleadingly. “You’re always saying how I should bond with her, and I promise we’ll only buy a few sweets...”

She only sighed, a small smile forming across her lips, still ever amused by her husband after all of the years of worry. “Just go.”

On that note, Goku and Pan soon took to the heart of the lanes of vendors, looking to find at least something to occupy the time before they were called back for their matches.

"Where do you want to go first, Pan?"

"Ice cream!" Pan cheered, pointing to a nearby stand.

"Great choice! I was thinking that too." Goku entered a running stance. "I'll race you!"

"You're on, grandpa!"

After a brief count of three, the pair began to rush towards the ice cream vendor. However, it didn't take long for Pan to lose her pace.

She saw something. A tail from around a corner, lazily batting about in curlicues.

"Hey, why'd you slow down, Pan?"

"Look over there!"

Pan pointed to the tail around the corner. It was rather small, a dusty rose color and striped. Dangling from it was what appeared to be a small pendant keychain with a circular charm.

"It's a puppy tail, grandpa! There's a puppy over there!"

"Well, I think that's kind of a weird color for a puppy..." Goku tried to explain, but Pan had already bolted.

"PUPPY!" She squealed as she ran towards the tail.

"Pan, wait!" Goku tried to chase after his granddaughter, but she was already prepared to pounce on the tail. When Goku could finally see around the corner and realize that the tail's owner was in fact not a dog, Pan had already jumped and grabbed on.

"Gotcha!"

The tailed creature appeared to be a bipedal reptilian. The jewel that made up his skull was a brownish maroon shade and resembled a chestnut. The creature's species was familiar to Goku, but he couldn't place it in this rushed instance. He was clearly upset that his tail was grabbed and tears were forming.

The reptilian stumbled back as he freed his tail from Pan's eager grasp, not noticing the pendant dropping from it. He started to bolt in the other direction, mumbling something panicked and incoherent. He didn't get very far before tripping. He picked himself up and continued to run, this time holding his tail to stop it from dragging on the ground. He finally managed to cry out a word that was understandable: a wailing cry of "Papa!"

"Pan, that wasn't very nice of you to pull on that little lizard boy's tail." Goku looked at his granddaughter with disappointment.

"But, grandpa, I didn't know!" Pan whined.

Goku sighed. "Well, we should try to find him, so you can apologize." Noticing the fallen keychain, he retrieved it from the ground. “And we should probably return this to him too.” He grabbed Pan's hand and led her through the crowd. "Come on."

______

Several minutes had passed and the two had no luck with finding the lizard boy. It was rather unusual. How hard was it to find a boy with a tail in a place like this?

Pan was scanning among the legs of passing people to try to spot the boy with no luck.

Goku turned to look in the direction that Pan was searching while continuing to walk. “You see ‘im yet, Pan?” He inquired.

“No, not yet, grandpa, but...”

“What is it?”

“I think you should be paying more attention to the path!”

“Pan, it’s fine.” Goku assured his granddaughter. “I’ll be fine, I’m not going to bump into anyone!”

Just at that moment, as if jinxed by his words, Goku immediately bumped into someone. He jolted back, almost letting Pan’s hand slip out of his.

“Woah, sorry, sir. Didn’t see you there!” He apologized.

“You’d better be sorry, monkey.” A snarky and sarcastic voice responded.

The sound of the voice resonated with Goku. Only one person he knew had that certain flourish to his voice and that same person was the only one who called him by that name.

Goku’s eyes turned downward to see a familiar reptilian figure with white scales and violet jewels. Unlike the lizard’s usual attire choice, he wore a loose-fitting button-up shirt, dark enough violet to pass for black, and Force-standard spandex shorts, as well as a pair of sunglasses- somewhat feminine in design, likely not something he picked out himself- that his ruby red eyes peeked over, giving the Saiyan his signature glare of condescension. This clothing was probably to help him blend in with the surrounding crowds and avoid suspicion, but Goku felt that his tail was somewhat of a dead giveaway.

“Frieza?” Goku looked in confusion. “I didn’t expect you to be at the tournament!”

“Well, I didn’t expect myself to be here either.” The Arcosian removed his sunglasses and folded them. “But, Vegeta’s woman insisted since it’s been almost five years since I helped you save the universe, or whatever sappy excuse she used.” He rolled his eyes. “And apparently there are no admission returns, so...”

“Yeah, Bulma’s quite the master of persuasion, isn’t she?”

“I wouldn’t call it persuasion. More like coercion.”

Meanwhile, Pan slowly glanced around her grandfather’s leg to get a better look at the figure before her. Frieza’s tail swished back and forth, almost pattern-like, but the young girl noticed something else. Flicking almost in sync with the white tail was another tail of a familiar dusty rose color. Could it be that lizard boy?

Pan eagerly tugged on the leg of Goku’s gi. “Grandpa, grandpa!”

“What is it, Pan?” Goku asked.

“This guy’s got a tail!”

“Yes, he does, Pan.” The Saiyan explained. “Mr. Frieza’s from space, so he has some body parts that humans don’t have.”

"Oh?" Frieza seemed curious about the small girl. "Who is this? Another one of your hellspawn I presume?"

"Actually, Pan's my granddaughter. She was at that post-tournament party we had, remember? She was just a baby then."

"You do remember I left before all of these festivities, right?" Frieza's eyes narrowed. "I could barely stand being on your team for forty-eight minutes, so I definitely couldn't stomach a full-out party."

“Oh, right!” Goku remembered and scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. “Almost forgot you’re not a party person.”

Frieza gave a displeased sigh at the Saiyan’s ignorance. His tail flicked about faster and the second tail behind him seemed to be having difficulty matching the speed. This attracted Pan’s attention yet again, prompting her to give another tug.

"Grandpa, grandpa!"

"I'm afraid you'll have to advise her that this is hardly the time or place for me to explain my entire anatomy..." The Arcosian rolled his eyes.

"Pan, Mr. Frieza's right. Maybe another time-"

Pan interjected. "But, he's got two tails!"

Goku looked shocked. "He has what?!"

Frieza's eyes practically flew open. "I-I can explain, don't get too over-excited now-"

But, Goku had already started rambling. "I didn't know you could grow another tail! Can you grow three tails? Do you think Saiyans can do it too? Can-"

"Silence!" Frieza barked, ending the rant. His own tail stiffened and the second one seemed to fidget, uncertain of how to mirror the other. He sighed. "The second tail isn't mine."

"So, you ripped it off another guy and surgically attached it to yourself?"

The Arcosian was starting to lose patience more rapidly. "No, I mean that there's someone behind me, you imbecile!" He pinned his folded sunglasses to his shirt collar. "Just give me a second." Frieza turned around and bent down. His voice seemed to mellow as he near silently spoke to the small being behind him. “Come on, Kuri. Don’t be scared...” After a brief hesitation, the pint-sized figure flinched forward into Frieza's embrace, allowing him to scoop up the tailed creature. "There we go..."

When he faced them again, he was holding a smaller lizard being. Their form seemed to be similar to Frieza's first form, but it was missing horns. Their jewel skull resembled a maroon chestnut. They donned Frieza Force-regulated battle gear. The armor seemed to be of a model similar to Vegeta's, as it lacked the shoulder pads present on Frieza's usual armor. A black silk scarf, somewhat large on them, was tied at their collar and draping along their shoulders.

"It seems that some introductions are in order." Frieza finally managed a smile for once. "This is my son, Kuriza. Born two years after my revival."

Kuriza, clearly bewildered, briefly glanced over to Goku, then to Pan. After his analysis, he quickly averted his gaze and attempted to retreat back behind his father, who quickly stopped him. He must have been rather shy.

"Wow, never thought you had it in you, Frieza!"

Frieza hesitated for a moment. "What are you implying here, Goku...?” His eye twitched angrily.

“Well, um... It’s just... You’re Frieza and all, and I didn’t really think you were interested in-”

Pan interjected with her own question to spare her grandfather from Frieza’s wrath. “Who’s the mum, then?”

Frieza stammered as a red color spread across his face. He refused to look either of them in the eye. “That is... none of your concern, child...”

Goku laughed a little. “Same stubborn Frieza! But, anyways, it’s nice to meet you, little guy!” He held out his hand for Kuriza to shake or, at least, grab onto. To the Saiyan’s surprise, the young lizard’s already frightened expression seemed to further sour, shortly afterward attempting to snap his small fangs at Goku’s hand.

“Kuri! Manners!” The older Arcosian scolded him through gritted teeth.

“Woah! What the heck was that for? Did you set this up?”

Frieza seemed shocked as well. “I swear, I didn’t. I know that vengeance has been in the cards for quite some time now, but I’ve never trained him to attack you specifically.” He let out a small chuckle. “I guess it’s only natural for him to attack what he considers a threat. Just my luck that you automatically fit the bill~”

Emerging from the brief silence, Kuriza suddenly started to mumble something. It was hard to decipher at first, but even Goku was able to deduce what he said. “He’s... with... her.” He seemed to be referring to Pan and was clearing speaking about her with fear in his tone.

“This is because of Pan?” Goku looked surprised before the emotion was quickly overshadowed by fear. Frieza was glaring at him.

“Alright, monkey,” The Arcosian growled. “I don’t know what your little spawn did that traumatized my son, but you’d better explain... now.”

Goku started to sweat as he tried to once again hide Pan behind his leg. “I-I honestly... don’t know what happened...”

“Sh-she...” The young lizard stuttered. He eventually gave up on trying to work out the words and grabbed the end of his dusty rose tail. He made a tugging motion lightly enough to not cause himself discomfort. Goku’s eyes widened with realization. Kuriza was the lizard boy from before!

Frieza looked to his son with a gaze of concern. “Kuri, did that girl pull your tail?” Kuriza simply nodded. “She did?” His eyes turned back to Goku and his concerned look turned to an infuriated scowl.

“Um, Frieza, I can explain!”

“What is there to explain here? This little mutt pulled on my son’s tail because she doesn’t know how to keep her paws to herself...”

“She didn’t really pull though, she was only grabbing on for a few seconds-”

“Well, the tail is very sensitive! She could have hurt him!”

“Frieza, I’m honestly very sorry for all of thi-”

Goku’s defense of his granddaughter was cut off by Pan herself stepping up, her voice reduced to whimpering. “I didn’t wanna hurt him! I thought it was a puppy tail because I like to grab puppy tails, I didn’t know. I won’t do it again, don’t hurt me, Mr. Frieza!” She was almost diminished to an emotional puddle faced with the angered emperor.

Thankfully for the trembling quarter-Saiyan, Frieza’s temper cooled with a sigh. “I guess if you promise never to do it again, I can let it slide. Fortunately for you both, Vegeta’s woman also forced me into a ‘no violence’ agreement, so I, unfortunately, can not destroy you if the mood strikes me.”

Despite the positive news, Goku’s shoulders seemed to slump in disappointment. “Aww... So, does that mean you won’t be fightin’ in the tournament today?”

“Violence clauses or no, I am much too powerful to safely fight the normal Earthling combatants. I could quite literally tear up the competition while holding back.” The Arcosian’s expression turned into a cocky smirk. “Besides, I can’t trust any of your questionable companions to watch my darling Kuri.” At mention of his son, his scarlet eyes darted over to Kuriza, who was further attempting to bury his face by snuggling into his father's embrace, the gesture met by a brief cheek nuzzle.

"Speaking of watching over and such," Goku added with mild confusion. "How come the little guy was out and about without you? I figured you'd be watching him like a hawk with how protective you are."

Frieza sighed. “I try to stop him from wandering off, but he keeps trying to scavenge anyway. The boy has a mind of his own some days.”

“Scavenge?”

“Yes, for coins- and, before you try to give me any money, we’re fine on that front. He simply adores shiny objects like that... I even had to buy him a shiny little trinket in the hopes it would keep him occupied for a spell, but it seemed it didn’t work that well. It’s this little medallion charm from a little vendor back there.” He turned to Kuriza, who finally peeked back out of his reserved hiding. “Show them your little charm, Kuri.”

The smaller lizard looked back to his tail, only to find no such object dangling from it, letting out a small gasp. Frieza’s eyes narrowed. “Where did your charm go, Kuriza?” He was met with a mumbling response that Goku couldn’t make out but Frieza somehow could. “I told you not to put it on your tail, you know that’s how things get lost.”

“What’s the matter?” Goku inquired.

The lizard emperor sighed yet again. “It seems that Kuriza lost his little trinket while he was out scavenging. It must have slipped off his tail while he was up and about, it could be anywhere in this place. Such a shame that-”

"Shiny..." A small sad whimper came from Kuriza. He depressedly tried to slide down out of his father's arm, only for him to be scooped back up.

"Aww... Poor guy... Are you going to go look for it now?" Pan asked from behind Goku's leg.

"I'm afraid that will not be an easy thing to accomplish, little- Gkk!" Frieza was cut off by a sudden pain: a small kick from Kuriza, right in the upper ribs. The little lizard's mood had greatly soured and he was now resorting to kicking to fuel his agenda.

"Goku!" Frieza interjected, still being given small jabs in the ribs from his son's silent tantrum.

"Yes?" Goku perked up. Frieza had no snarky nickname for him, so he knew he was serious.

"By any chance, do you know someplace private I could go for a minute or so?" He spoke through pained grunts. "Preferably one nearby?"

"Wait, why?"

"Well, you know how he likes shiny things? Seeing my Golden Form helps calm him down and I don't want to attract any undue attention. So, if you would-" A single harder kick made Frieza's eyes widen mid-explanation to near the size of saucers. "Please..." He turned Kuriza around in his carrying, getting his legs to face outward and redirecting his frustrated kicks, unfortunately trying to find ways to swing backward.

"Ahh... Gotcha..." The Saiyan nodded understandingly before briefly shooting him a casual finger gun. "I think there should be bathrooms off around the outskirts- Maybe around the konpeito booth?"

"Much appreciated..." Frieza grunted through his teeth as he turned in his tracks off towards the other direction, redirecting his attention and softening his tone towards his son. "It's okay, Kuri... Papa will do the pretty shiny thing for you soon..."

However, before he could get too far, Pan suddenly chipped in, her voice still somewhat stuttering in fear of potentially upsetting the short fused emperor. "Wait... Umm, Mister Frieza?"

One iris darted back to look at the petite partial Saiyan, Frieza's default look appearing like a glare. "Yes? What do you need, little mutt?"

"Well, umm..." She hesitated. "If you tell us what it looks like, we could try to find the little charm for him..." After her initial nerves, she perked up, confidently cocky like her grandpa. "I'm good at finding things!"

The emperor was resistant to accept the offer, especially one from a five year old, but he eventually let out a begrudging sigh. "Very well, but don't get your hopes up about finding it. It's a small circle shaped pendant- Two sides to it. One has a picture of the sun, the other has a crescent of your planet's moon- and it's very shiny as you could presume." He rolled his eyes as he turned back around. "Now, if you don't mind..." He trailed off, grumbling.

Not long after Frieza had only taken a few steps ahead, all while trying to reign in the silently fussing little lizard in his arms, a thought caused Goku's shoulders to lurch up, like a jolt coursed through him to turn on the metaphorical lightbulb. He turned to Pan, fetching something from his belt as he did- the small keychain that had been dropped from earlier. Of course, it appeared a touch less shiny than hoped due to the dirt on it. "Hey... Pan, do you think this might be it?"

"Yeah!" The young quarter-Saiyan piped up. "After all, we did find it when the little guy ran off."

"Well, Mister Frieza's not too far, so do you think you could-"

Goku was barely allowed a chance to finish before his granddaughter yelped out to cross the few feet gap between her and the father-son pair of lizards. "Hey! Mister Frieza! We have it!"

The lizard emperor flinched in his tracks from the volume of her voice, pivoting back around on a dime and returning back to the two Saiyans. "What?! How the hell did you find that so fast?"

Pan briefly flinched as well, sensing hostility in his tone, but quickly recomposing herself. "Well, we think he lost it when I pulled his tail. It was on the ground where he was, so..." She held out the keychain, Frieza's eyes nearly lighting up in relief, only for his expression to remain the same typical disgruntled.

"It's all dirty, monkey..." His glare shot up to Goku, who quickly understood what Frieza meant by it, letting out a brief "oh!" before taking the keychain from Pan, hastily wiping it clean with the edge of his top, then handing it back. "That's better."

Upon seeing its glimmering beauty reflecting the light of the sunshine, the once stubborn little Kuriza's expression seemed to melt into stunned wonder, a matching glitter in his eyes. "Shiny..." He let out an awestruck whisper, his tiny hand now attempting to reach out toward it, only to be limited by the length of his arm and the hold his father, who was smiling for once, kept on him.

"Yes, yes, I see it, my little chestnut." The emperor sighed. He knelt down to a shorter level, closer to Pan's, as he set Kuriza back onto his two feet and quickly snatched the charm from the Saiyan child's hands. "Now, so you don't lose this again..." He untied the knot of the boy's scarf before quickly retying it again, this time making the knot around the looped end of the keychain. "We'll tie it here."

Kuriza almost immediately looked back down to admire it, fumbling with it in his tiny hands and flipping it between sun and moon, continuing to do so even as his father scooped him back up and rose to his feet. The smile remained on the older lizard's face even as he shot a glaring look with his eyes at Pan. "Don't expect any sort of 'thank you', mutt. You were part of the problem, after all."

"Well, she was part of the solution, to be fair."

Frieza simply scoffed. "Water under the bridge, monkey..." He shifted his son in his arms, transferring him to his backside and, no sooner after the small being had securely latched himself into his new position, his eyes progressively lowered, already tired. It was interesting to see how Frieza seemed to mellow around his son- was it parental hormones or did he actually have a sweet side?- yet his characteristic cold nature seemed to remain beneath.

"Now, if you have nothing further to contribute... I'll continue perusing this overly sappy human carnival until the main event starts." As the lizard turned around, precious cargo slumbering on his back, it wasn't long before his route forward was cut short by another voice calling out toward him, this one feminine, but not belonging to Pan.

"Hey! There you are, Frieza!" He looked with a cold glare to find that the approaching voice was tied to the woman who had roped him into this mess herself- Bulma, waving towards the group ahead on the path. Of course, she was not alone, having her clearly disgruntled Saiyan husband dragged along with her, as well as an unfamiliar pint-size presence, her hair distinctly matching Bulma's in color.

"Great... The woman..."

Alerted by this commotion, Kuriza's attempted nap was instantly halted with an alarmed squeak. His panic amplified upon seeing the approaching Briefs family and, not wishing to confront even more people, released his hold on Frieza's back, dropping to the ground and preparing to bolt away in the opposite direction. However, a stark white tail pushed him back. "No running off again!" Having no other escape option, he defensively kept a firm hug-like grip around his father's legs.

While Frieza remained aloofly looking away, Goku was all smiles to see the group approaching, waving towards Vegeta in particular. "Hey, 'Geets!" His greeting was met by the other Saiyan letting out a small grunt and simply addressing him as "Kakarot".

The emperor only rolled his eyes at this overly sappy "buddy-buddy" display, not finding any interest in whatever sort of bonding ritual the two Saiyans had to share, nor any of the human ones Bulma would force onto him. However, before he could make his discreet exit from the situation, the woman's eyes locked with him. "I thought I saw you around. Thankfully nothing in utter chaos." The smile on her lips was hesitant, even though dragging him here was her idea, and Vegeta held her back with a defensive arm, as if he were a zoo exhibit.

"Your lack of faith in me to 'behave', as you put it, is insulting, Bulma." Frieza scoffed, half-humoring her. "Anyway, thank you for the... human disguise you loaned me." He motioned to the collar of the button-up shirt, speaking of it like it was a burden forced upon him. "And, if you don't mind, I was just about to continue my rounds until you appeared." As he turned around, he unpinned the sunglasses from his shirt and covered his glaring red eyes back up with them. "Without further interruption, I must bid you ta-ta, woman~"

The lizard dismissed the group that had formed around him with a flick of a wave, but, when he tried to continue his trail through the grounds, he was halted, as his legs didn't seem to want to move. Looking down to see what was the matter, he noticed that Kuriza was still stubbornly grabbing him by the legs in defensive attachment, his grip keeping the two legs squeezed together. "Gkk! Kuri- please-"

Of course, it didn't take Bulma long to notice. "Aww... Who's that little fella you've got there?" Once the woman drew attention to the little lizard, his father let out a disgruntled sigh, his shades slightly falling and once again revealing a peek of unamused red irises.

"Oh, didn't you guys know?" Goku started answering on Frieza's behalf. "Frieza had a kiddo of his own the whole time!"

"Ah, that explains why you were asking about child admission when I got in touch with you! I just thought you were trying to pass one of your short minions off as one to get a discount or something."

Vegeta added a begrudging "Him procreating? Tch..."

The emperor continued through gritted teeth. "Yes, his name is Kuriza and he doesn't like new people, so could we just move on-"

Before he could finish, Bulma's curiosity had already overtaken her, passing Vegeta's arm barrier to her husband's dismay. She had already made her way uncomfortably close to the lizard, kneeling down to reach the further fearful Kuriza, his grip tightening and his face becoming more obscured. "That's okay. He just hasn't come out of his shell yet." Her voice became a coo. "It's okay, little guy... Miss Bulma won't hurt you!"

"Woman, please back off. He doesn't want your company." Frieza, raising his sunglasses up to his forehead, urged her, not being heard.

"Aww... Poor guy... Don't be scared!" She reached forward, further triggering the boy's fight or flight, and carefully examined the little charm tied to his scarf, flipping the token in her fingertips. "That's a cute little charm you have there, Kuriza~ Did your dad get that for you?"

"You may not want to touch that-"

"I'm not going to take it away from him, I'm just looking at it."

"Bulma!" Frieza, at the end of his rope, finally used her real name. "I really wouldn't. He-!"

He looked back down too late as the human woman let out a panicked yelp. "Oww! He bit me!" Sure enough, little Kuriza's fangs were clamped onto Bulma's finger, the other four fearfully releasing his pendant. The small creature, frightenedly unsure of how to react, was between moods, letting out a soft growl and tearing up at the same time.

"As I was trying to explain..." Frieza grumbled. "He bites when he feels threatened- and you were being quite threatening in his mind." He reached down and planted a reassuring hand on top of his son's head. "It's okay, Kuri~ Let her go now." While the younger lizard hesitated briefly, he acquiesced and allowed Bulma to withdraw her hand, shortly after transferring his hug hold by springing up onto his father's arm.

"Well, that's a lesson for later... Heh..." With a forced smile, Bulma tried to brush off the incident, rubbing at her sore finger. "I guess I'll leave you two to your business! We'll see you later at the main event!"

While both lizards were relieved in their own ways that the Briefs group was leaving, another voice, finally piping up, was not quite enthused. "Aww... But, I wanted to play with the lizard boy!" The tiny source was the small girl by Vegeta's legs, the color of her hair, tied up in a ponytail, a mix of purple and robin's egg strands.

"I know you did, Bulla, honey, but little Kuriza's not quite in the mood to play right now." While Bulma rationally explained the situation, Vegeta was taking the more protective route, trying to prod Bulla away. Perhaps it was fear of her being bitten too, or of her being 'contaminated' by an evil emperor's son.

"Okay..." Bulla disappointedly whimpered. As she was urged ahead on her way by her stubborn Saiyan father, she raised her hand to wave goodbye. "Bye-bye, then!" Her hand waving overenthusiastically at the same time rattled a small bracelet around her wrist, a few gemstone-like beads making it up- hopefully play-pretend plastic, unless they trusted a four-year-old that much. However, no matter what material it was, what mattered was its surfaces caught glimmers of light in their motions-

As well as Kuriza's attention.

The Saiyans, partial and full, and Bulma parted to one direction, while the solitary emperor and his boy went to the other. However, Kuriza, now reclaiming his prior position playing piggyback, couldn't help but look behind him as the others headed off- though the people themselves were of less interest to him than the real treasure. The bracelet continued to jangle around on its little girl owner's wrist, further tempting him with its glittering allure. "Shiny..." He near silently whispered. His movements were quiet and stealthy, taking some time before Frieza even noticed him dropping down from his back.

Bulla, past her initial disappointment of not having a new playmate, was now busily chatting with Pan, walking to the side of her. Her braceleted hand was held behind her back while her father protectively held the other one. The surrounding footsteps that formed the ambience of the tournament ground made her miss the tiny and quickly approaching patters- that was until she felt the wrist behind her being suddenly grabbed.

"Oh!" She turned around to see Kuriza attempting to take a hold on her bracelet and suddenly frozen in his tracks, realizing he had to deal with the person attached. "Hey, it's you! Hi!" The lizard wanted to draw back, but also refused to leave his prize.

Kuriza hesitated. "...Hi...?"

"It's okay. You like my bracelet, don't you?" He nodded daintily in response, just as his father worriedly approached.

"Kuri, what did I tell you about scampering off again?! That shiny thing already has a home..." The young Arcosian's attention was still diverted, continuing to be subjected to Bulla's small talk.

"My mum got me this for my birthday. It's my favorite, but I really like your little shiny thing too!" Surprisingly, Kuriza did not grow defensive of his trinket when she pointed at it, his more important goal being the new object before him. "Oh! I just remembered! You don't know my name. My name's Bulla, nice to meet'cha!"

Since the lizard's hand was already joined to her, Bulla simply grabbed his wrist in exchange to complete the handshake, causing him to slightly flinch. He knew he couldn't run away now- especially since the treasure was in close range.

Stammering, he suddenly spoke up again, his murmur making him harder to understand. "I- 'm... K-Ku-reeza... Nice to... mmm..." He mumbled, failing on the last word and looking up at his father for guidance, who simply sighed.

"Don't hurt yourself... It's an earth thing... Just say 'meet you'."

"Oh... Meet you! Nice to meet you..." He finished, suddenly triumphant but still hushed.

"Very good, Kuriza. Now come along please. This little one has other places to be- as do we." Frieza bent down to his knees to reach the young boy's level again, attempting to gently disconnect his hand from the girl's wrist. Though he was resistant to do so, Kuriza submitted to his father's grab and returned to his embrace.

"Aww, so soon...?" It wasn't the young girl who was whining, but rather her mother. "The little fella was just coming out of his shell. Didn't you see it, Frieza?"

"I did." Frieza glared. "And it was probably only because of her bracelet, so don't read too deep into it." He rose to his feet, Kuriza in tow, preparing to continue turning the other way- a simple task that he would have completed minutes ago but, with more pestering from Bulma, it became increasingly difficult.

"That's because you're not giving it a chance! Why don't you just come with us then? You'll still be able to see the grounds and the little guys can have their time together. Sounds like a win-win!"

The older lizard looked back with skepticism. "I'm not sure if he'd be... comfortable..." His vision then turned to the boy, who was trying to return to burying his face.

"It's okay!" Bulla responded with her mother's chipper and boundless enthusiasm, the arm with her bracelet raising at the same time and jangling the beads. "I'm lots of fun! I'll be his friend!"

Once shy Kuriza almost instantly popped out of his reclusion upon hearing the little beads clatter and, again captivated like a magpie to its shininess, leaned forward to get a closer look, dropping himself out of Frieza's arms in the process. He skittered over to Bulla and latched onto her braceleted wrist yet again like a magnet. "I see someone agrees!" Bulma, noticing the action, smiled.

This further hardened Frieza's glare, the action proving his argument in favor of this being the bracelet's fault and nothing else. Kuriza appeared happy, probably only because he was faced with a new shiny trinket to eye up. As he was about to make his rebuttal, surprisingly, someone else had an objection.

"Bulma, what are you trying to do?!" Vegeta's brow furrowed, trying to tug Bulla back to his side by her other hand. "Why are you setting up my-" He corrected himself. "Our princess with this little... tyrant?!"

"Vegeta, you're being ridiculous." Bulma's look equally soured. "I know he's Frieza's kid, you had some bad blood, but he's three at most." She looked down to where the children were standing, Bulla figuring out that her bracelet was like a laser pointer and moving her arm around to see if Kuriza's eyes followed- sure enough they did and his tail waggled gently. "He's not going to blow her up or anything."

"No, all I'm saying is-" The Saiyan attempted to protest further, only to be silenced by a quick peck to the cheek by Bulma, the love behind it covered by frustration.

"Just trust me, okay...?" She muttered under her breath before readopting her excitement. "Now that that's settled, shall we be on our way?" Bulma shot Frieza another sickeningly sweet smile, the lizard only folding his arms and sighing disgruntled as he followed them- skepticism in ever step.

Young Bulla seemed to be leading Kuriza along by her bracelet, making her own side of the conversation, all rather earthen topics, some of her favorite things and where to find the best snacks in the city, while he, probably not understanding most of it and playing along to remain tied to the shiny thing, let out occasional nods and mumbles of agreement. His father continued to watch the two closely to make sure they didn't get into any mischief, glaring at the girl with an air of distrust whenever she looked back up at him.

Hopefully, he wouldn't have to keep up this act for long. Soon enough, this charade would end with the passing of the tournament and he wouldn't need to set foot on this dirtball again, unless he made plans to claim its Dragon Balls- and that was a note he could relax a bit on.

Unfortunately, for him, what he didn't realize was that unfolding before him was the beginning of a long friendship that would persist for years to come.

So much for that idea...

#dragon ball #dragon ball z #dragon ball super #one shot #Kuriza #Frieza #Goku #Pan #Bulla #Bulma #Vegeta #A little AU bit I did #Since Frieza's alive now (for now? I think Granolah's up to something in the manga) we have the possibility of Kuriza!#A lot of my other concepts flow back to this event here #So its basically the little framework for my KurizaxBulla/Kurla nonsense #They're cute kids for now that will grow into the rarepair that's solely based on headcanon because one does not canonically exist #Woot

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iereiaio · 3 years

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𝕸𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖎𝖈𝖊

There is no shadow work prompt today, however I will be giving some updates, and then some insight on a reading I had received and then one I just did for myself. They have similar messages but I feel mine is more in depth. I will be separating the topics into sections so you can skip around to what you’d like!

Updates regarding the Account

I will be trying to post more starting today. I feel as though Haides hasn’t been very happy with me considering my inability to devote ANY time to him, aside from talking to him at night before bed, and sleeping with his altar bag. I feel he’s in the forefront of my mind on most days, but I’ve been lacking the motivation and energy to do anything about it. I am a Priestess. He chose me out of nearly 8 BILLION people in this world. He’s been with me since I was born into this life, as well as all of my previous lives. He has been with me for hundreds, if not thousands of years. I had gotten this confirmed by several readers, and several of my own readings, and I had always had a very strong pull towards him, as well as luck with a lot of things. He’s believed in me for so long, and I can feel his patience in me wearing thin, and it’s a very lonely feeling. He hasn’t pulled back from me, however I just feel like he doesn’t have as much faith in me as he once did. So I will be trying to do shadow work at the very least once a week, but I aim to do 3-6 days a week. So expect more posts with shadow work. I was healing when I was journaling and pulling cards every day. I have been very stagnant lately and I know it’s because I’ve been neglecting my journey of healing, but also my deities and other passions in my life. I know Haides understands, but I also know he wants me to do better and try harder. Even a little bit of effort, I’m sure he will appreciate

The reading I had received

I got a reading from a friend today, I pulled it regarding new deities potentially knocking on my spiritual door (I feel as though Lucifer and Lilith are wanting to work with me, but somebody I don’t know said that Lilith told her it was an imposter entity, so I am needing to do some research before confirming or denying that. This reading was supposed to do that, but instead it came for my throat. Anyway, on with the cards:

6 of swords

5 of swords

10 of swords

9 of swords

4 of pentacles

7 of wands

the Hermit

queen of swords

So into the interpretation, they said I have very little energy (as represented by the 6 of swords), and that Im trying to heal but it’s just really difficult. Any new deities coming into my circle will provide me more energy, but it will “hurt” me a little bit- (represented by the 10 of swords, I am personally believing it may be once I start putting more energy into Haides, I will be getting this newfound energy) And by hurting me, it will be learning lessons. As lessons are often hard to learn. I am represented again in the 9 of swords, being in pain consistently (mentally) but with the 4 of pentacles, Hades will help me step into my personal power, and break free from restrictions i feel financially- but also emotionally. Im being given the opportunity to go forth after the things in life that im passionate about, and i know what im passionate about but i fear both success and failure. The Hermit, which was a funny draw, because Haides uses that card to represent himself in my decks- but I feel alone a lot ofthe time (not a lie anyway lmao), and with the Queen, im being called to action to either step up or get out of the battle. Im being called to be more assertive and call to Haides for the strebgth Im currently lacking. “Embody him so to speak”. They suggested EVOKING Haides, and even INvoking him next. They also said my protections might be weak (hope I don’t regret saying that online)

Now onto my own reading

So, for mine, I did it pretty soon after theirs, since they gave me a bit of clarity on what to look for. As well as insight that Haides wasn’t too happy with me and my depressed shenanigans. While YES hes understanding, and more understanding and patient than many other deities would be, he is still growing impatient with me, considering how little effort im putting into ANYTHING. So with the insight, i decided to do my own pull based ont he reading I had gotten from my friend. The cards I pulled were:

(the first reading was very short and to the point)

Page of Swords

The Hermit (only to find Haides in the deck)

King of Cups

And in the second reading, which was much longer, I pulled:

Two of Wands

Eight of cups (R)

Four of coins (R)

Seven of cups (R)

Three of coins

The High Priestess (R)

The Magician (R)

The Fool

Page of Cups

The World

The Artist (unique major arcana card to this deck)

The way that I personally interpret the first reading, is that Haides misses my energy, and would like to help me gain it back, however I need to devote at least some of my energy to him and show him my loyalty to him in order to get that in return. I cannot expect help with healing without giving him anything in return. I need to do better if I want his help. He will be there for me, but he wants me to do better. He wants the best for me.

As for the second reading, I have some decisions i need to make, i assume about my current artistic path, i will have some career opportunities but i need to work now to get them. My depression and hopelessness is represented by the 8 of cups, ive been in a real bad rut these last couple weeks, moreso in the last few days as some bad, traumatic memories have started to resurface. Haides is reminding me with the 4 of coins to start being more responsible, not only with my money, but with my time. I’ve spent so many days moping in bed, sad, sleeping all day; he wants to help me but he wants me to prove to him that I am devoted to him and my healing journey. He wants me to try, even on hard days. He wants to give me clarity and strength to move forward, but again, wants me to prove my loyalty to this journey. If i put forth the effort, i will grow and blossom in the ways I need to. I will succeed with him by my side. However I need to be more open with myself, and not allow ignorance to take me off my path. I need to remember that the things that have happened to me, have already happened. And while it’s okay to process and be sad about them, and traumatised (as its as if im living these things for the first time), but I cannot let them ruin my entire day, or multiple days. I cannot let my life waste away because of something bad happening. I need to stop letting insecurities rule my life as well. I’ve noticed when I get insecure about something, I shut down and don’t even complete, or start the project. I need to understand that everything isn’t going to be perfect. Though despite the learning I need to do, I also need to cater to my inner child. I need to hold onto that innocents and free spirit. i need to focus on new beginnings and getting these new things rolling instead of just staring at them hopelessly, letting them intimidate me. I need to dive back into spirituality and again, tend to my inner child. If I can do that, I will be successful and happy; I can be brought to the right path, but I need to get back on the right path. Things are rocky, and it’s gonna be a little weird going backwards so I can get back on the right path, but sometimes it’s necessary. I also believe I will have a lot of success with art. I just need to put my mind to it and put energy into it. I wont get recognition and success by never drawing or posting. I wont succeed if I don’t put in the work.

#tarot reading #tarot #hades #haides #hades god #greek god hades #greek god #greek gods #hades priestess #priestess #haides priestess #priestess of hades #growth #healing #journaling

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luminescentauthor · 4 years

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Sora/Nao Getting Together and Relationship Headcanons!

Wow lookit me posting twice in one day!

Please read this post of HCs about their third year or this will make absolutely no sense to you! You can also read part two but it’s long and you don’t need to for this to make sense.

However, if you don’t want to read either of those, the run down is: Sora is cap, Mokichi vice; their year are all on first-name basis since around the end of second year; when people ask if any of the three boys are dating, all four of them just shrug and smile cryptically, because they got really sick of people asking; Nao briefly had a boyfriend named Nakamura but turned out he was just trying to get info on her team for his school so he cheated on her and the team rioted. Tobi and Madoka beat him up.)

This is four and a half pages of a Google Doc, so please see below the cut for the HCs!

Oh also btw this has minor Tobi/Mokichi because, hello, Tobi is living in my mind rent free and he’s not letting me evict him. (Even though I would really, really like to.)

In the middle of Sora and Nao's second year, the entire rest of the boys' team plus the girls' team made a pact not to interfere with Sora and Nao's relationship, and let them sort things out on their own, because some people were getting antsy and tempted to get involved. And they are... starting to regret that.

Tobi, especially, is starting to regret that, and he kind of wants to strangle them both because they're both so dense jfc-

Chiaki is the only one who doesn't know about the pact, since the fact that Nao likes Sora has been very carefully kept from him, and basically so is anything about Nao in general. There’s a pact on the team to make sure to keep such things from him. (Momoharu is the one responsible for this and he's not the least bit sorry. It’s saved him so much pain.)

Nao has been crushing on Sora since first year, and Sora not denying it when people ask if they're dating is NOT helping her feelings, good God.

She spends like a solid twenty minutes every day panicking and/or crying in the arms of one of her friends on the girls' team and/or Tobi.

He is arguably her closest friend on the team beyond Sora (read here for my post about why I think they’re friends), and has long since passed the point of sympathetic into "Oh my God just ask ‘im out, Jesus-" and honestly, so has pretty much everyone except Mokichi, but Mokichi has the patience of a saint.

Sora probably got over Madoka in his second year if he confessed to her (again) and she gently rejected him or if she found a boyfriend (read: Momoharu, probably. I dunno if they worked out, but if they didn’t they remained very good friends. Yes, that’s actually a thing people can do!)

Some time passed, he was over it, and then he developed a more serious crush on Nao after a while.

And it just keeps getting worse and Sora is not thrilled with that. In fact, he's panicking, because feelings.

He's spent a grand total of at least nine hours on the phone ranting to Momoharu (because again, Nao does not get mentioned to Chiaki, so Momoharu it is!)

The entire rest of the team is suffering. First years, second years, Tobi and Mokichi, and those who have graduated. No one is spared. The girls' team has been roped in as well. More than a few people bond over sheer doneness with these two idiots.

Tobi, calling Momoharu: I wanna Die.

Momoharu: Mood, why?

Tobi: Nao ‘as the biggest crush on Sora and won’t do anythin’ about it and I'm sufferin’.

Momoharu: CHRIST, NO -- HE'S DOING THE SAME THING I’M -- WHY IS THIS MY LIFE???

Tobi: Oh my God.

Tobi: I hate them both so, so much.

Momoharu, vehemently: Mood.

Tobi and Mokichi are bearing the brunt of it, and Momoharu is also dealing with quite a lot of the bullsh*t.

Tobi, bitterly, lying on his bed while on the phone with Mokichi and Momoharu: How immoral is it to lock two of yer best friends in a broom closet or locker an’ not let ‘em out ‘til they deal with their feelins like adults?

Mokichi, tiredly: Kenji-kun, no.

Momoharu: I hate to say this because I would like to see that, and it would be very cathartic, but no because they would die in that closet before fessing up.

Tobi:

Tobi: I hate that yer prolly right.

Shigeyoshi "literal actual angel" Kaname has been dealing with ranting from both parties since second year, and he and Tobi have taken to meeting up weekly for lunch or coffee for the sole purpose of complaining about their dumbass friends, and honestly? They get a lot closer because of it.

Tobi, throwing open the door to Mokichi’s house with a bang: KANAME YA ARE NOT GOIN’ TO BELIEVE THIS SH*T-

Mokichi, exasperated, staring down at his phone with its messages from Sora: Oh, I’m pretty sure I will.

Mokichi’s sister: How do you keep getting in-

Tobi: Oh I nabbed Kaname’s key like three months back.

Mokichi: wAIT is that where that go to I thought I lost it?!

Tobi: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Tobi gets roped into Sora's group of "people to rant to" with Mokichi and Momoharu and, at this point, Chiaki as well (Sora eventually told Chiaki, and Chiaki acted all comically betrayed but things were fine) (Momoharu mostly told people not to tell Chiaki in order to annoy Chiaki in all honesty.)

Tobi: Why the f*ck did I agree ta stay at this school

Mokichi: Why did I come to this school at all

Tobi: Why did I join tha basketball team

Tobi: Why did I let Sora become my friend

Tobi: How did I let Sora become my friend?????? Like how did tha’ even happen Jesus I'm still not sure

Mokichi: Poor decisions were made?

Tobi, vehemently: Poor decisions were made.

Then Nao gets a boyfriend and literally everything goes to sh*t (please read THIS POST for the context. It’s the same one I linked at the top. Again, this will make no sense without it. Go read.)

Nao is trying to get over her feelings for Sora because despite having no reason to believe so (having not... asked him about it), she firmly believes that he doesn't return them.

Mokichi has to actually physically restrain Tobi to prevent him from strangling them both on at least two occasions. Like seriously. Tobi might have really punched Sora if he hadn't been held back by local noodle-armed beanpole.

To this day absolutely none of the underclassmen (or Nao and Sora) are sure how Mokichi did that, because third-year Tobi is 180-something centimeters of pure wiry muscle and Mokichi, despite being a two-meter tall noodle, is still a noodle, and his arms are very very noodley.

Where he found the physical strength to restrain an angry Tobi is literally a complete mystery, because Tobi is strong to begin with but when you're trying to restrain his entire person from walking where he wants to? Good luck.

(The answer is he just wraps his longass noodle arms around Tobi and clings to him and is like "kay have fun dragging me around" and Tobi is like "ಠ_ಠ Kaname ya are heavy" "yes that is the point" "f*ck ya.")

Mokichi, whispering frantically on the phone: Momoharu-san please help Kenji-kun is trying to commit murder.

Tobi, yelling in the background: YA KNOW FULL WELL THA’ I CAN HEAR YA, KANAME!

Sora cries about Nao and Tobi is very tempted to just let him sulk, but Mokichi strongarms him into coming over to a sleepover at his house with Sora and basically the three of them just form a giant cuddle pile on the couch and watch stupid movies and eat a lot of ice cream while Tobi ribs Sora over anything and everything, and Sora soon finds himself laughing instead of crying.

Sora loves his friends so much??? He’s so glad he stuck with the basketball team????

Momoharu is this close to just blocking Sora's number.

"Sora. Sora you are one of my closest friends, and you know I love you, but I am in class for f*ck's sake-"

Seriously Sora keeps calling him just to b*tch about how horrible Nao's boyfriend is and Momoharu might actually go crazy.

If Sora drags on Nao’s boyfriend on more time Tobi is going to throttle him, he's had enough.

Mokichi is hitting the limits of his patience too, and that's actually an accomplishment.

But Tobi won’t lie, he’s getting a bad vibe off that guy? He does seem kind of sleazy? And when he hesitantly points that out over lunch with Mokichi -- they meet up just to complain about Nao and Sora at least once a week now -- Mokichi agrees, with a pensive frown, that he also has a bad vibe.

He doesn’t know, Mokichi says. Maybe they’re just all protective of Nao. Tobi sighs and agrees.

Tobi is fully aware of his big brother reflex by this point, but he will never, ever admit that he has such a thing out loud.

Turns out Sora was completely right about Nao’s boyfriend, though. (Even if it was just Sora being jealous, not actually Sora being intelligent.) The guy cheats on Nao, because he's a terrible person, and Sora is this close to hunting him down and committing murder, but he doesn't know what school he goes to.

Madoka calls Tobi to give him the guy's location, and Tobi goes, "please don' tell Sora tha's a bad idea" and Madoka goes "do you think I'm insane??"

Tobi and Madoka then absolutely thrash the guy and then get coffee afterwards and bond over oh my god, our friends are so dumb, because Madoka has been putting up with Nao's rants since first year.

Eventually Sora and the rest of the team convince (the very easily convinced) Tobi to give up the idiot's location and they all take a trip to beat the crap out of him.

Madoka then joins the I Have Pining Idiot Friends support group, which consists of Tobi, Mokichi, and Momoharu.

It's actually Madoka who finally decides to break the "no interfering" pact, after hearing about the sheer extent of the bullsh*t that's been happening, the parts that Nao didn't mention to her. She calls Sora and very tiredly goes "please just ask Nao-chan out, everyone is suffering."

Sora: wHAT

Tobi, eavesdropping as they're all changing: She told ya to ask Nao out

Tobi: Or I'm goin’ to deck ya I stg -- my patience is a very much finite resource, Sora.

Mokichi, tiredly: Please don't kill our captain

Tobi, ignoring him: Sora I am dead serious. Ask her out, or I will break yer nose, consequences be damned.

Tobi is So Relieved that the pact is over. He knew he'd catch grief for it if he broke it, and the second Madoka does, his reaction is "TIME TO PHYSICALLY THREATEN SORA INTO CONFESSING! YAY!"

Tobi, no.

Madoka is wheezing somewhere in the background but is also in full support of this movement.

After a large number of threats, Sora, bright red, stutters through asking Nao out to the amusement park or something, and Nao, also bright red, screams "WHAT" and Sora goes "Uh -- God, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-" and goes to run.

And smacks directly into Mokichi who's like, "Uh, no, you're going nowhere. I am so done."

Tobi, internally: Oh thank God fer Kaname.

Nao, still a tomato, manages to squeak out "I'd love to!"

After Sora and Nao get through the "Really?!" "Really!" part, Tobi dramatically falls to his knees and yells "THANK F*CKING GOD, FINALLY," which, fair.

(And as Sora and Nao are stuttering through a semi-normal conversation after that, maybe Mokichi is in the background, shyly asking Tobi out for coffee without the excuse of talking about Sora and Nao, because maybe their relationship went from "I don't want people to think we're friends" to "I guess you're decent" to "we're friends" to something unnamed and fragile and delicate and maybe a little bit precious. And maybe when Tobi leans against his shoulder and Mokichi wraps an arm around his waist at practice, no one is surprised.)

It's on their third date, in a park after going to a cafe, when Nao abruptly asks, "Sora-kun, can I kiss you?"

Sora short circuits (again.) And Nao freezes up and goes, "Sorry, sorry, too soon, I'm so sorry-" and Sora freaks out and goes, "NO, NO IT'S FINE, I was just -- just surprised!"

They both calm down and take deep breaths, and then Sora steps closer and gently cups the back of her head as her eyes go wide and he asks, "is this okay?" She nods and nervously places one hand around his neck. They lean into each other and kiss softly, and it feels right.

They’re both bright red but they’re both smiling like idiots, and Sora holds her close and thinks, “Godd*mn I got lucky.” He whispers that to her, and she laughs, flustered, and says “Yeah, I did too.”

After six weeks or so of going out, Nao and Sora make it a "boyfriend/girlfriend" thing and now if Mokichi or Tobi are asked if they're dating Nao, they say that she's dating Sora; Nao blushes and shyly corrects the person if they asked about Mokichi/Tobi, or shyly confirms if it was about Sora; Sora just smiles, and confirms that he's dating Nao, blushing.

Mokichi invites Momoharu, Madoka, and Chiaki to lunch with the third years when they have a day off from practice for the sole purpose of giving Nao and Sora a hard time about their mutual pining

Tobi swears up and down that he's going to read out the most embarrassing speech at their wedding and expose them to everyone there, and Nao and Sora both turn bright red and short circuit for a solid five minutes at the mention of marriage while the others laugh at them.

At the end of the year, Nao and Sora receive a trophy from their kouhai that says "Most Disastrous Couple Ever." Tobi and Mokichi didn't stop laughing for a solid twenty minutes, and Tobi is still giving them sh*t about the trophy five years later.

They both attend university and maintain their relationship throughout. Sora proposes when they’re both 29, at the same park where they had their first kiss, on the anniversary of the day they met, because he’s sappy AF. Tobi is rolling his eyes somewhere in the background.

It’s a warm summer night. They get dinner at an expensive formal restaurant. He takes her to the park, and reminisces about the first time they went there together. It was the day Nao joined the team, he recalls. She had left after the practice game, and he had followed her. He had been so impressed by her, he tells her, and he still is. He doesn’t know how he came to deserve her, and she blushes and says she feels the same about him, that he’s just as amazing.

Sora covers her eyes and leads her to a ring of trees in the middle of the park, and uncovers them to reveal that they’re standing in a gazebo covered in flowers and fairy lights. And he smiles at her, and gets down on one knee. Nao’s hands fly to her mouth as he says, “I have been in love with you for well over ten years, and I would like to call you my family officially. Nanao Nao, my light, the love of my life, my everything, will you marry me?”

“Of course I will, you big sap!” she cries, tackling him, tears in her eyes, and kisses him. Neither of them care that they’re getting dirt on their suit and dress; the only thing that matters to either of them is each other.

They get married roughly a year after. Madoka is Nao’s maid of honor. Sora’s best man is probably Momoharu, Tobi, or Mokichi. Maybe Chiaki? I don’t know.

I almost want to make it Momoharu just because he would first completely drag Sora and Nao for their bullsh*t back in high school, grinning, and then invite Tobi up on stage to polish it off. Tobi, on the other hand, would just roast them on his own, which is probably why Sora decides not to make Tobi his best man. (“I trusted you, Momoharu-kun!” “Well that’s on you, Sora.”)

(And if Tobi catches the bouquet and gives it to Mokichi, no one’s saying anything.)

(They will, however, be saying things when Tobi gets down on one knee in the center of the dance floor an hour into the reception and says, “Given that our relationship was formed by bondin’ over these two idiots takin’ two and a half years ta get together, it only seems right that we tie tha knot because they did too. Kaname, will ya marry me?” Mokichi cries and says yes. Nao and Sora also cry. Yes, Tobi got their permission to steal their thunder beforehand. He was sorely tempted not to, just to get back at them, because yes he’s still salty about high school, but he figured he’d better ask.)

When they’re about 38, they adopt a daughter! And yes the others are her aunts and uncles.

Her name is Akari, which means light, and she is a problem child, but she's definitely not Tobi/Hanazono twins levels of problem child, and they love her anyway.

Her name is Nanao-Kurumatani Akari, because screw gender norms, says Sora. Nao’s reaction is “oh my God I love you so much.”

She was about 5 when they adopted her.

Her favorite uncle/aunt is Mokichi (absolutely no one understands why including Mokichi himself) and yes Tobi is mad.

Also Tobi adores her. Tobi sees a small child? Are you kidding me, have you seen him with his sister? Tobi seems like he'd be with horrible with kids but he loves the little sh*ts.

She plays basketball as a PF and she is so tall and yes, Sora is salty.

Scoring machine and inside player, but also learned strategy from Nao (after a terrible loss, she asked her mother to teacher her) and.... fear.jpg.

Basically, Sora and Nao are the most tooth-rotting-ly sweet, romantic, cliché in the best way, sappy, and adorable couple ever, and it’s bad for everyone’s dentist bills.

Here’s a Sora/Tobi edition (I apologize to SoraNao shippers because it’s twice as long and I didn’t even realize that for ages), because again, I have Tobi brainrot. God help me.

You can also check out my Ahiru no Sora Headcanons tag.

#ahiru no sora #ahiru no sora headcanons #headcanons #nanao nao #kurumatani sora #natsume kenji #tobi #shigeyoshi kaname #mokichi #kurumatani sora x nanao nao #soranao? naosora? soranao.#soranao #natsume kenji x shigeyoshi kaname #aka tobi x mokichi #tobimoki #me: TOBI GTFO THIS ISN'T UR POST THAT'S COMING LATER?!#tobi: what if nah

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captain-jinguji · 4 years

Note

Yandere alphabet for Syo and Cecil? Ó3Ò

Yes 😏 I'll do Syo in another post so for now, im sorry for messing Cecil up ~

CECIL AIJIMA YANDERE ALPHABET

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

He worships them. Literally has a shrine in his room dedicated to them and prays in front of it every day, asking the Gods to grant him his wish of being with them forever. He's very clingy and always has to be around his darling; never lets them go anywhere alone. He even went as far as to bring them to Agnapolis and put the castle in lockdown for a while.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

He, personally, doesnt let himself get messy. He has servants do his dirty work so his darling never has the chance of thinking less of him because how can they hold him accountable for actions he never did? Just don't go into the lower parts of the castle.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

No mocking here, surprisingly. He quite honestly treats them like a Queen/King, well, at least, if you can ignore the golden chain that connects them to him at all times. All their wishes are fulfilled, as long as they're reasonable and don't include the fact that they want to escape him

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

He'll get their affection one way or another, even if it means drugging them just so he can hold them without them squirming around. Almost grooms them to be like a cat; soft, independent, and loyal

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

He's actually quite secretive. Like he shows affection and the love he wants from them, but he doesnt open up his thoughts and most certainly never lets them in on his plans or next steps. They might be a Queen/King to him but a King can rule without one.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Laughs at their attempt. First of all, even if they did manage to hurt him in any way, the guards would restrain them. No one is to touch the future King of Agnapolis, not even the future Queen/King that rules alongside him. Second of all, he'll just tell himself its the heat and the new environment making them go crazy and think irrationally

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Its a game of cat and mouse. He likes to chase them, almost like kids do on a playground, but he will never let them escape from within the castle's walls. Sometimes he even sends his pet panther LuLu after them to ~play~ a little bit.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

When he ordered Lulu to attack. He doesnt quite remember what they did to hurt him this bad, because he already forgave them for it, but he does remember seeing red and sending his panther after them. They needed stitches and to be hospitalized for a short period.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Oh they will rule together of course. The Kingdom already loves their future King and Queen/King. Of course, they're also expected to keep the blood line going and believe me when I say that he's been working on that.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Doesnt get jealous; he gets sad. Theres no one better than him right? They wouldnt leave him, right? Because if they did, they will never see the outside world ever again.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Like a cat. Sly, calculated, but still affectionate at times. He tries to keep the peace between his darling and him as much as possible but sometimes his claws come out and puts them back in their place.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

Much like Ren, he would charm his way into their heart and present himself as the most best possible choice in a partner. He has everything from looks to fame to wealth, and they wouldn't want that? Let him make them believe that that's what they NEED.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

He does a whole 180°. His usual soft caring attitude turns into that of a killer. He knows everything about them and more. Has taps on his darling at all times and is known to act out violently at times. But who is to defy the future king?

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Torture. Remember how I said dont go into the lower parts of the castle? Yeah not only does he torture people there that treated/looked at his darling wrong, but he brings his darling there to emotionally and physically torture them himself as well. Theres no escaping him. He's everywhere.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

A lot. See it as a traditional "wife obeys husbands every wish" kind of scenario. What he says goes and his darling has absolutely no say in it whatsoever.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Again, he tries to reason with himself that its hormones acting up or the new environment, but he knows that that's not it and his patience tends to run thin. They might be the future Queen/King of the country but beside him, theyre just another pretty face that needs to be quiet in the public eye.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

They cant escape. Not only is the castle on full lockdown at all times, but they are also escorted everywhere they go by several guards. If his darling died, he would absolutely break. He'd lash out at anyone and anything, maybe even going as far as killing part of his Kingdom, maybe even himself.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

No. He becomes extremely obsessive with them and sees them as THE perfect mate. Nothing could replace them and nothing can take them away.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

As a child, he always had everything, and that followed him into adulthood. The traditions his country kept over the years taught him that HE is the sole ruler and HE calls the shots. It's about control and obsession more than it is about love.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

If his darling retreated from him or cried, he'd see it as one of their temper tantrums and let them be. He would try to make them feel better with little gifts and such, but if they retreat for too long, he just forces them back into his bubble.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Well he didn't just abduct them, he literally took them outside the country meaning that Japanese laws dont apply. In my opinion, he took it a step further by making a smart move.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

None. He's quite literally, always on his guard, and has guards around him. They cant get to him. At all.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Yes and hes done it before. He will admit that sending a wild animal after his darling was a bit harsh, but the torture is still going on.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Again, he has a whole shrine dedicated to them and adds pictures of them and him all the time. He proudly displays it to his darling and acts fake hurt if his darling calls him out, successfully making them feel guilty and comfort him. Emotional manipulation is a big part of his.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

He takes a while. Mainly because he has background checks done on them just to ensure that they are the perfect darling for him. He finds out everything and stalks them like prey for months, maybe even years.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Yes. Thats his ultimate goal. To have a quiet, non-opinionated pretty face by his side that bends to his every will and desire.

#uta no prince sama #uta no prince shining live #utapri starish stillnotsorry #starish #quartet night #utanoprincesama #utapri headcanons #cecil aijima #yandere alphabet #yandere

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ddaenqu · 5 years

Text

Tea for Two

pairings: yandere prince!namjoon x fem!reader

themes: Kingdom AU, Angst, Mature, Yandere AU, Arranged Marriage AU

tags: possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, unhealthy behavior/relationship, toxic behavior/relationship, overprotective behavior, arranged marriages, threats, threatening, slight sexism, forced marriage, infidelity mention, mentions of violence, some grotesque scenes of death, explicit langauge, mentions of slaves

a/n: ahhh i finally finished it! i’m sorry if there’s so much mistakes, i tried to edit it as much as possible but sometimes i kind of just write and read, and don’t pick it up. i was sick while writing this and (maybe) still sick when i schedule-post it. the reader’s personality was by far my favorite to write in this one, and i hope you all love her as much as i do!! (and the gif i wanted didn’t work when i tried to save it, SO IM MAD MAD)

based on the prompt: “Say that one more time and I’ll make sure you can never walk again.”

summary: Life wasn’t fair to you, and it didn’t give you happiness, hope, love—neither lemons. It gave you tea. The finest quality there is, in the wrong situations.

The tea tasted horrible, bitter and frothy against the sides of your mouth, the number of sugar cubes you dropped in couldn’t help the bland taste. You’d say this was the worst thing you’ve ever drunk, and that was saying a lot as over the years your senses were built to enjoy even the most bitter and sour, watered-down, and scalding hot drinks.

You forced yourself to take another sip and decided that it truly was the worst. Setting it down onto the glass saucer gently, a small clink resonating through the still room, you looked around—as you have been for the past five minutes. The room didn’t change, you remind yourself, you’re still in the same stupid cushioned seat since you first arrived, and your firm corset is doing well to hide your panicked breathing and nearly accomplishing its goal to crush all of your ribs in record time.

“Another cup? Your grace?” you hear the baritone-like voice of the butler, dressed in a beautifully tailored uniform, gold gleaming from the seams. His hair was dark brown, his eyes glowed brown with speckles of gold, and his kind smile had always done well to keep your behavior at bay.

You waved it off and returned a smile of your own, genuine or fake, you couldn’t tell anymore. “No thank you, Seokjin, I’m fine.”

The room almost jolts to life to the informal address towards Seokjin, one of the many butlers, more commonly called Mr. Kim. But he pays no heed to the informality, he doesn’t mind at all, he’s known you for quite a long time and has figured out along the way, from your awkward teenager days, and to your dumb young adult antics—that you hated honorifics.

His smile never leaves his face, never falters, never twitches. “Are you sure? You’ve only had a cup since coming here. Would you enjoy something else? Your grace?”

“No, thank you though.”

“Of course, your grace.”

The room returns to its quiet state once again, all the maids and butlers are positioned with perfect forms, and the knights stand guardedly by the doors. Although it’s quiet, the one thing anyone loves in this line of work, the room burns in tension. You could feel the eyes of hundreds as they could feel every small movement you make against their cold flesh.

But you’re not one to have an outburst or a temper for that matter. You weren’t allowed to.

To be raised as the daughter of a duke, you’re raised with high expectations.

You had to fit in with any trends that were fashion-related and keep up on them, you didn’t need to know about anything else, not the war—as you couldn’t ever enlist, no woman could. You had to have perfect etiquette when eating or talking. You had to walk in sync with others, couldn’t walk ahead, you were taught to walk in heels and dresses. You had to smile, that was the most important job you were told, they drilled in the thought that even an untalented and useless girl could attract the best with a simple smile.

You were raised to be the embodiment of perfection.

To be the perfect woman—the perfect wife.

You were glad that where you sat, faced with a grand window and offering the kingdom’s garden, and the front of the mansion they lived in, you could see anyone who had arrived. It’s more like a warning for you, to prepare for it, whatever you were preparing for.

At one point you thought if you could really go through with this, to go against everyone’s wishes, most importantly your parents and the queen.

If you were unlucky and turned out unfavorable to the queen, you’d be beheaded or worse—forced to continue on.

The thought of having young children watch your head fall dead as the rest of your body, them finding odd entertainment in something so vile, made your stomach sick, that disgusting tea rising in your throat. The taste stuck to the back of your throat and a gag reflex was seconds away from appearing.

A heavy sigh comes from you as you try to smooth the creases in between your eyebrows, your headache from this morning has returned with a white noise keening in the back of your head and the silence is only making it worse.

“Seokjin, can you get me something cold to drink—water, quickly,” you say, but it’s in an authoritative tone, automatically.

“Of course, your grace,” he replies and turns to get the pitcher of water, setting down a new cup and pouring cold, iced water. All the while, he’s busy boring eyes into your head, noticing all the defined lines, dark bags, and blotchy makeup trying to hide your stress. You hope he has enough sense to not ask.

Seokjin returns the pitcher back to where it sat last time and adds space between you and him, in which you inwardly thank him.

Suddenly, the dark oak doors in the middle of the room open, revealing two men you believe are on the council, and the other being the prince of Esthersa known as Kim Namjoon—your fiancé.

The two shrub-like men standing beside him, small and incompetent compared to his domineering figure. You almost cringed to the fact the whole room had to stop and brighten in awe, and you would say you were almost embarrassed by his grand entry.

“What I’m saying, prince—,” one of the councilmen stop and quickly correct himself, “Your Royal Highness, forgive me, is that it would be better if we sent some of the knights to the south—”

The other quickly cut him off, “war is arising in our neighboring kingdoms, it’s better if we abide them by their rules and arrangements, they had asked—”

Something in Namjoon snaps in seconds and the councilman closes his mouth mid-sentence, a rare sight to see when he was usually a reserved and calm person over the years. His eyes burn in anticipating rage before his lips reach into a grin, you could tell animosity was burning at his patience from the way his body became stiff, for reasons unknown to you.

He turns to the two men who stood behind him like cowering dogs, saying something that you couldn’t hear, but guessing from the two council members reactions, it wasn’t very pleasant, to say the least.

It was odd to see him get worked up so easily over a simple conversation. Most of the time, it had to be his parents or an argument from one of his siblings to make him angry. You’ll have to refrain yourself from asking, nosying wasn’t an attractive trait.

“Mr. Kim,” Namjoon calls and Seokjin, who stood behind you, immediately rushed over to him.

“Show these two gentlemen to the front,” He orders in a calm voice, “and tell the rest of the council members that we will end it there for the day.”

“Of course, Your Highness.” The butler bows to the prince and takes the two pale men away from the room, the doors closing with a bang, the knights regaining their positions.

You hear a deep sigh vibrate the room, Namjoon settling down into the chair across from you where another cup of tea stood untouched and a plate with one scone on it.

Mildly unsettled now that your one person of comfort had left the room, it would be nice to have someone you know to be there if things went wrong.

“I’m sorry for the disruption, they tend to follow when they don’t get what they want,” he explains, although, you already knew that from being around him and his family enough, or anyone who had the title of a noble.

“Typical,” you reply and watch him take a sip from the teacup. “But I did ask to meet unexpectedly without any warning, that is purely my fault.”

He lets out a faint chuckle and his body feels more pliant, still very much aware, yet comfortable in his seat. His eyes softened and his hands were no longer curled into fists as they were before.

The Kim Namjoon you knew appearing before you. The one you’ve known since kids. Grown into all of his features, his baby fat no longer there, dark brown choppy bangs sprawled and swept against his forehead, the bruised he prided in from training became faint, and his awkward, lanky body grew into one of an actual prince.

“It’s fine. I’m sure it’s important, you rarely visit by yourself, so it must be serious,” he assures, “you have all of my attention, love”.

“Yes,” you speak before thinking, the eloquent words you had in your mind began to scramble. You didn’t know if he knew why you were here, his words insinuated that he did—but—he seemed oddly happy. From the way his lips turned into a gracious smile and the use of the pet name, he’s never done that regularly. Or maybe he did? Maybe you’ve never noticed.

Was he maybe expecting something else? You thought, or could he be happy already knowing what you’re about to ask? Perhaps something else had made his day?

From the corner of your eye, you see movement and remember, there are others in the room as you speak, who could hear everything. Even if they did an oath to keep quiet about any private matters containing the royals, you didn’t want a group of spectators watching and making silent judgments when they don’t know anything. It's worse enough to have to speak to Namjoon in person, sending a letter would’ve been more appropriate, but your family had insisted you visit him the moment their eyes landed on the letter meant for him.

“Is it possible for the maids and knights to leave the room?” you whispered, your clammy hands trembling in the fabric of your dress.

Namjoon’s eyes narrow, deep in thought, but his expression keeps still and restrained. His hand goes up and makes a gesture akin to a wave, you’re too afraid to look anywhere that wasn’t his eyes.

Leather shoes clack and shuffle, metal creating a clicking sound like the door of the room shut close, barricading you and him inside, the silence consuming every spot and cup. You were alone with him.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” you gulp and he takes another slow sip from his tea, your mouth went dry. “The reason I came to visit was that I wanted to talk about our engagement.”

The words left your mouth, clear, making sure you’re not talking too much or too fast for him.

He raised his eyebrow and shuffled in his seat. Putting his leg over the over, his fingers toying with the curved, gloss handle as the cup rested in its according saucer.

“What about our engagement?” he inquired, interested, “enlighten me.”

“I believe,” you begin and then quickly add, “Your Highness”, to appease your painful anxiety, and to be as formal as you can at this point. “We need to find better solutions to increase the morale of your kingdom.”

“What does this have to do with our engagement? Are you, perhaps, proposing more outings together?” He shuffles once more in his seat, leaning forward. “And, if you’ve forgotten, technically it’s our kingdom.”

You sigh regretfully, you had made it to ambiguous for him to specifically pinpoint what you’re trying to say, anyone would take it the wrong way with how you phrased it, but you feel bad. The words you want to say are too blunt—for someone like Namjoon. Sure, he’s a prince, he’s built on nothing but “bloodlust”, and his expressions only vary to calm and angry-calm, however, he’s been nothing yet kind and equal with you. It feels unfair that you’re the one to bring it up abruptly, to make matters worse, you’re bringing it up before the war has ended, but it must be said, he must’ve already thought of it before.

“No, Namjoon—Your Highness .” Bile rises to your throat, and every word sounds foreign to you as you spoke, “what I’m trying to say is—Your Highness, I want us to annul our engagement.”

The room drops in temperature, which is far-fetched to say, there’s no way for a room to instantly get cold, and yet it does, somehow. The look in Namjoon’s eyes are cold, they’ve always been in some form—but they are just there, they no longer share the emotion his face and body don’t show, the only way you’ve read his answers and him. It’s gone. He’s just the prince.

He becomes slack against the chair, his back pressed against the chair, and his fingers now tapping against the wooden table, lightly, you add.

“‘Us’?” Is the only thing he mentions in his deep and solemn tone.

“Yes,” you continue on with your explanation, the one you’ve perfected over the courses of weeks. “I knew ever since we were engaged you weren’t happy with the choice, it wasn’t ours to begin with.” You look out the window to focus on the maids and other staff flitting about the front yard, relieving of your stress by a mile. “I was only engaged because of my family’s name, known for the looks or talent, well-liked by the people. Ultimately, I was only a sacrifice for peace between the people and you. But you already knew this.”

“I was one of many pawns,” is what you wanted to say. To create this grotesque picture of you being unhappy with this to-satisfy life, to make the biggest moves as everyone sits back and waits until they are called, to be the one taking everything. And to be cast away when you’re not needed anymore and rot with the others who have already played all of their moves.

You did not want to be that.

“I see.” Namjoon reaches for the tea once more and takes a sip, you watch his eyes stare at the bottom of his cup longer than normal, his cheeks were hollowed in from him biting the insides of his cheeks. “Is that truly what you wish for? War is still going on, and my parents will be enraged if I tell them this.”

You breathe in. “This is what I want. I had planned to be kicked from my title from the very start, and I know there are other ways to ensure peace among the people and neighbo—”

“Silence.”

Your mouth screws shut to his order, the malevolence seeping through the cracks of his calm expression, his eyes boring into your skull as the minutes pass, the pressure and guilt beating down on your body. You’re shaking. Your legs are, wobbling and trying to find support by rooting yourself near the legs of your chair, your hands numb with chills running up your arms.

Of all your time with being next to Namjoon, you’ve never seen him snap at you. You thought he didn’t care to, you knew how to put yourself in your place and control your attitude. You’ve never once made him angry.

Well—of course, in this situation he was going to be angry, but you didn’t think he’d be to the point of disgust showing through his tone. He was going to take most of the verbal abuse from his parents and constant begging from your own; saying how he was a coward to let her go, that him choosing to annul the engagement was to bring rebellion in all (for canceling an engagement was a way to tell people you were unloyal and indecisive, and nobody wants that in the future ruler of a kingdom). However, you knew that there were other ways—are other ways, if only he agrees to it.

Marrying another country, one with amazing morale and beautiful benevolence seeping through its kingdom, was the easiest way to ensure happiness among all—but not the fastest. There was bound to be small riots to rise along the way, fighting with cultural differences and the natural “once an enemy, always an enemy” cliché coming to play.

But he was Kim Namjoon, and if you had anything to say about him to someone who has never seen or heard of him, you would say he matched the standards of anyone. No matter too high or too low.

“So, you’ve heard?” His grin pulled into a menacing line.

“Heard what? Namjoon, did I—I mean Your Highness, did I—”

“The council wants me to marry with another kingdom.” His eyes wander to the window and beyond the window, then back to you and your lifeless body. “Is that what made you like this? All of a sudden?”

Does he really think this is stemming from the rumors surrounding him? Not only is he proving the rumors, but not noticing your distaste for this relationship with him from the beginning—he even said so himself that he did not want it.

“No, It’s been my wish since the beginning of this mess, I didn’t know you were being asked to, I was only listing one of the ways I’ve thought of. I’m sorry if I offended you, Your Highness.”

Namjoon doesn’t reply, which most often means he’s thinking. Thinking about what, you don’t know and don’t really want to have an idea of, but you do know that letting you be free of the engagement will be as torturous and burdening for you as it will be to him. Stripped from your noble title and all the power you get from it, every piece of jewelry or dress you’ve owned is burned, and then you’re all too familiar with living with the lower class after a few months. In short, you will become nothing.

Being nothing is better than this life.

“Alright,” he says after a prolonged silence. “I’ll announce it to my parents, if that’s what you wish for. Truly.”

With elegance, expression flawed and corrupted with disbelief that he had actually agreed when he easily could have said no, you rise from your seat, the chair scraping against the floor. You bow to the lowest your body could allow, offering all of your sincerity in that one bow, offering everything to him. You promise gold and riches to him as he sits in silence, knowing your parents will try to compensate for your “wrongdoing”. Saying more than needed “thank you”’s as your head hanging low in submission.

“I guess—Your Royal Highness,” you say with a meek voice, “this will be the last we see each other.”

Namjoon hums, and the natural fire in his eyes return. Interest.

“Maybe—it will be the last.”

You storm pass guards and guards.

To hell with those damned bastards, you curse as you wrench and try to twist their armored hands away from your arms, the steam burning at the tips of your skin and threatening to fall upon every being in the room beyond these doors.

“Your Highness, what has possessed you?” one of the guards ask, pushing your body against the golden handles of the doors, trying to do so without causing injury.

It’s only natural that they are more worried than upset at your sudden behavior change. You were kind to them, to all, those years of etiquette training had automatically made you into this perfect doll. Anger wasn’t ever present within you, having a temper wasn’t allowed. Just as everything else that made you remotely human wasn’t allowed.

“Let me through those doors, I need to see your prince,” you threaten, wounding your hand tight around an open space where his armor did not cover, gripping with fervor as your nails dig crescents.

“His Highness is working at the moment. He wishes to not have any disturbances, even by you, Your Highness.”

Your Highness.

That title made your insides scorch with blistering pain and a lump to rise to your ears, drowning out the sounds of nearby guards and maids who were witnessing this unfortunate scene.

The two guards that were positioned in front of Nmajoon’s door look at each other with uncertainty.

“Please compose yourself first, Your Highness, and we will let you in,” one requests, his hold is powerful, and yet it's not bruising on your skin. “We do not mean to be rude, we shall let you in as soon as you are you.”

“Fine,” you spit and the guards, taught to maintain bleak faces, wince to your tone.

As if they had been scolded—and it’s only natural that they do.

They’re being scolded by the next-in-line queen.

You will yourself to lose all hatred at the skin of your face, your features blending into a calm and coordinated smile, one that offered forgiveness, happiness, the well-being of the people were in that smile, your eyes gleaming with unprecedented love.

“May I see your highness?” you ask once more, the softest and lightest tone you could conjure from your hysteria.

The guards nod, metal ringing in the room. They’ve been swept by your façade so easily, expecting that you truly were the kindest human there was to be, completely forgetting your behavior moments before. Their hands individually clasp their sides of the two doors, opening it and revealing an office mixed with a library, a low light pouring into your view.

“Thank you,” is all you say before you enter, the doors closing behind you.

Truly ignorant fools, you think with a gritted grimace, your hands gripping the sides of your dress with a vice-like grip, wanting to rip it from its seams, to destroy it—you want to end it. All of it. Whatever it is.

You take a step forward, like a robot, you remember the way to his corner, where his desk sat and where he sat in the dark like some villain. You remember the guards naturally, it’s not their fault, they aren’t the villains, they are also the pawns of this game, they are the ones beside you. They don’t notice the twitch of your eyebrow, the small details when you smile, your eyes don’t fully crinkle at the sides, your smile doesn’t quite reach your cheeks, they don’t notice it because they only play for the big picture, taking the big picture and making it smaller—and smaller, so the higher-ups can find it of worth or not.

It’s not the people’s fault either, you keep reminding yourself as you turn a corner, another bookshelf. Another corner you turn, this time a small table with a lit lantern and paper stacks arranged side to side. It’s not their faults.

You stand tall, fire burning at the tip of your tongue and your skull splitting into two, hellish images appearing in your thoughts.

That’s right—it was his.

The man—your ex-fiancé and now husband—sitting at his dark oak desk, two lanterns lit in the small, cramped dark, his eyes burning into the page he was looking at with books laid all around. His hair falling out of its perfected form and laying against his forehead.

“What were you thinking?” you snapped, glaring at him.

He’s crazy, he’s absolutely crazy, you believe, that dreadful, unknowing face looking up at you with disinterest, dreadful.

He puts his quill down, interlocking his hands together, and that smile of indifference shows up like magic, his eyes flare with an unknown fever while his elbows prop themselves on the desk.

“What ever do you mean?” he asks slowly, as if you were slow-witted. “Why the face? Did one of my servants happen to anger you?” His face, frowning in solemnity, makes you think he believes his words proudly.

What a dumb and fickle mind he has, you curse.

“No, you know what you did,” you snarled, a violent tone controlling your words before you could reword them. “I told you I wanted it annulled, to hell with it! Now tell me why I’m getting praised by all for being the next queen—Namjoon.”

Fuck your title—“Your Highness”.

“Well,” he begins, “for starters, come—sit, have tea with me. There’s no reason to be mad, I’ll explain myself.”

“Are you playing games with me? Do you understand that your title is on the line?” you shout, getting annoyed with his idiotic antics, as if playing dumb will grant you sympathy. Your feelings are anything but sympathetic.

“I don’t understand what you’re saying, love, and I don’t understand how my title is on the line?” he replies, smooth and eloquent words, although, you can see you’re getting to him. His white-gloved hands are tightening into each other, his shoulders stiff and on a defensive stance. “Enlighten me, sit.”

His hand gestures to one of the chairs, a table next to it with a teacup on a saucer. You can feel the fresh heat from whatever substance is inside that cup, he knew you were coming.

You scoff, standing your ground. “You know that I am not one of your candidates your parents had planned to marry, you know what I am to you—to this damned kingdom.”

“Yes, I understand, I knew,” he sighs. “But with a little convincing, I had made sure they knew I wanted—”

“Namjoon,” you interrupt. “It seems you’ve forgotten, or have chosen to forget.”

His head nods to one side, his patience cracking like that smile of his, eyes that dull with any passion he had before, and instead, replaced with utter hatred. “What did I choose to forget, love?”

You know that tone. The type he uses on others when he doesn’t feel like being disagreed with, one that doesn’t want trouble. It wants complete obedience.

“I wanted this for myself, myself. Namjoon, I don’t want this life,” you partially fumed and pleaded, your eyes weakening into a puppy-like face, edging upon tears. Yet, your tone was still cold. “You even agreed to it, you said you would tell your parents. Just annul it before its too late.”

Namjoon hums, his eyes soften immediately to your face, it always has as you rarely use it. He turns a bit in his chair, looking off to the side and tonguing his cheek, he seems to be in thought. And maybe you forgive him, a part of you wants to, however, the rest just wants it to be over with.

“I didn’t—exactly agree. I never said it. I only said I would announce it to my parents.”

Hatred builds.

“Now come, as I’ve said before multiple of times,” he adds the last part with a light voice, he's deemed that everything is solved. Teasing in a way. “You truly are one stubborn lady, all the more I love.”

Love? This is his love? This was prison, torture.

Stuck within this round-about of a conversation. You come up with the last bit of strength before you really wish death upon this man—and might even go through with it, even if it meant him killing you for trying such a thing.

Death didn’t sound that bad at the moment, compared to what is happening.

“I don’t love you,” you state harshly, “I never have, and never will.”

“Oh please, you can’t tell me you’ve never once thought about marrying me?” he says so lowly, his eyes going back to the papers, trying to conceal the anger and frown growing on his face, you know he is. He’s going to relent and you’ll be free. A sinister man he was, but also a man you’ve been with for years. He had to have somewhat of a heart.

“No. I love someone else—”

Namjoon laughs, a mocking chuckle leaving his mouth. “Don’t be silly—”

“I love someone else, Namjoon. I have no interest in a man like you.” Your eyebrows, by now, have furrowed enough that it was ingrained into your skull from the way it felt. “I never have. I’ve never once wished to be with you. I. Do. Not. Lo—”

You think you’ve finally got him when his face stresses forward enough it’s close to hitting the desk. Your dumb lie of having another lover was a last-minute choice if all fails and goes to hell, at least dig a deeper grave for your own pride.

Then, a hand reaches out and slams on the desk, you can hear something crack under the weight of his hand, the room moves with the noise, vibrating in between your layers and layers of padding for your dress. His head snaps up and you can see a vein appear on his neck, even if the cuff of his jacket covers most of it, you can see it.

The look in his eyes are not dull, are not quiet, are not interested. They’re inhuman. With a vehement glare burning through your flesh, twisting a contorted image within the dark orbs. And that frown twisting into a snarl.

“It seems you’ve forgotten!” he plays in a distant tone, and it’s one that sounds so oddly placed from his angered expression that it scares you, you don’t notice you’re shaking. “I know you—all of you, I know who is in your life, whom you see, whom you talk to. All of it.”

You instinctively take a step back.

“So let me just say, no more arguing, I don’t want to hear it,” he threatens. “If you say that one more time, those dreadful words—you don’t know what you’re saying, darling, really. And I’ll make sure you can never walk again. One way or another.”

“Namjoon. You are mad. You don’t know what you’re saying. Do you even hear yourself?”

“Although, I’ve got your attention now, haven’t I? You didn’t seem to hear me before,” he mocks. “But pain, you don’t care if it’s inflicted on you, and I’ll make sure it hurts. I’ll find whoever else, any being you’ve talked to; your father, your mother, your adorable siblings—they’d be a very nice addition as slaves—even those guards I heard you bickering with.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you say, a gasp leaving your quivering lips, goosebumps rising over your skin. He knew how much you adored your younger siblings.

“Oh, but I would,” he replies instantly, the anger in his eyes dissipate and they are once a void, again.

He watches you closely, you can feel his eyes roam your form, a small chuckle rising from him.

Images of your siblings being used as slaves, seeing them tend to the egotistic royals at such a young age, unconditioned with no resistance to horrid beings. Your servants and family burning at the stake like witches, others throwing their own sharp and bloodied weapons at them. Those guards, with their head down, waiting for their heads to fall before their body.

He was insinuating that their blood would be on your hands. You can’t imagine the guilt that would settle upon you if you ever had the fleeting idea to run away or kill yourself, or argue more.

You’re trapped again. It’s not his parents this time, it’s him.

“So,” he quiets down, the room that was blundering with energy was now light, the power he had felt equal again. “Let us sit and have tea.” No room for discussion as a white noise fills the room.

And you do.

That disgusting tea you hate so much, you finished within seconds.

(feedback is greatly appreciated! thank you for reading! 🧸❤️)

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silverofdreams · 4 years

Text

My story is finished.

I have to thank @ao719, @debramcg1106, @burnsoslow, @the-soot-sprite who told me to post this thing cause its not within my comfort zone to write, Im more of a reader. But my brain wants me to explore this, and I might write more of it if it makes people happy to read it.

” What if….

A tale of two people”

Authors note:

This is a one shot, and my first time ever exploring this

fandom in words. English is not my language so please excuse any mistakes or grammar faults.

Synopsis:

This story explores the What if Drake mentioned in book 2, what if he and Rose (Riley) met somewhere else other than Liam’s bachelor party could their story have become different?

Pairing:

Rose / Drake

Warnings:

None, this is pure fluff, maybe a bit angst because Drake is Drake.

Rating

- PG -

riday afternoon, Rose Greer had just clocked off her day shift at the bar where she worked together with her friend Daniel. She had looked forward to an evening having a long bath and then watching a movie since her work required a lot of willpower and she simply did not have a lot of that, but she needed the money and it paid her bills, so she stuck with it.

She had longed for this evening all week and sighed loudly when her phone went off. She looked at the screen “Sandra calling”, Sandra was also one of her good friends in New York. Rose knew this could mean only one thing another blind date. Sandra was well-known for her ability to set friends up with guys, she had an agency that expertise in this and had tried to get Rose aboard several times since she moved to New York. “Yes,” she answered after debating whether she should or not.

“Rose! my best friend in the world”! Sandra’s voice echoed on the other end “I have a proposal for you”, Rose sighed “What now”? Sandra’s voice shrieked with excitement “I have a great blind date for you my friend, you cannot say no this time too good to pass up I assure you”.

“Sandra, I have heard this plenty of times before, why is this such a good opportunity” Rose questioned her friend. “I have this guy who is very handsome, he seems to fit your book of guys really well, tough but indeed handsome please help me out this time will you”. Rose sighed it could not hurt to at least go and see the guy once right, “Okay Sandra, tell me time and place and what kind of clothes I should wear”.

Sandra gave her the info needed, Rose headed home for a quick shower, a change of clothes and then the wait time begun.

7 pm arrived, Rose headed out to the restaurant Sandra told her to go to, it was a smaller one with a cozy decoration. Rose headed inside and sat down by a window, her date seemed not to have arrived yet.

If it was one thing, she hated it was people not clocking in on time, and this person seemed to fit that bill way to good. Five minutes later a guy dressed all in denim entered the place. Rose eyes widened as denim was so out of fashion, this year it was all about style for the guys in New York.

He stood a few moments looking around the area, and Rose got annoyed it was really no other people than her there at that time. He then saw her sitting by the window and walked up. “Are you Greer”? He simply asked hesitating a moment before sitting down opposite her.

“My name is Rose, thank you very much” she said a bit icily since it was not polite to greet the way he did meeting someone the first time. Oh, dear this meeting does not start on the top she thought to herself. The guy sighed to himself Why did I agree to this? The both sat in silence for about five minutes before Rose decided she had to do something, or her night off would be ruined. “Okay, it is clear none of us really want to be here, but why do we not try our best to make it a nice evening for the both of us”? She said and looked at him. He nodded “well yeah okay”. “Why do you not tell me your name to start” Rose said awaiting his reply.

“ Drake” he shifted a bit uncomfortable in his chair “ Look I’m not very good with this chit chat small talk thing with people, I’m also not good at apologizing for my behavior either but I am sorry if I seem like a jerk to you I try not to be it is my personality “ Rose nodded “ it’s all right I do understand, it is not easy to talk to strangers and I am totally agreeing with you about that”. “

Should we start by ordering food and then try go to there making the best out of this meeting for both of us”? She asked, he agreed luckily for him there was both his favorite food burgers and whiskey on the restaurant’s menu. He made his order while Rose looked on with a surprised look “oh we like the same stuff that is good” she said with a hint of a smile. The first smile she had shown that evening. She ordered the same things as him and the waiter left them alone. “So, Drake was it, where are you from and how did you end up in New York”? Rose asked after a while. Drake pondered for a bit before replying “I’m from a small Island called Cordonia, I ended up here because I needed some space from what is going on back there”. Rose listened now more intrigued by this young man. He seemed to be around her age, what could be so terrible he had to leave and go to another country.?

“Wow, that seem like some tough things are going on in your life”? I myself are a New Yorker, my family is normal people and live in another state, but I choose to stay here because it is my home”. Drake simply nodded he was a man of few words but once someone melted his icy heart, he really could be a soft guy but that the would not tell her about, she would have to figure out that one herself if they were to meet again. The food soon arrived, it tasted nice Sandra sure had choose this place for a reason Rose thought as she tried the burger front of her. “Mmmmm this is tasty” she nodded as the first bit was taken in. Drake tasted his and nodded “yeah, its certainly is no bad stuff”. The two of them indulged their food during silence, sometimes its nicer to eat and enjoy the food than interrupting the other with questions. Rose is a girl that like to talk to new people she meets, but if the guy is not so into it, she tries to accept his ways and roll with it. She figured he seemed like a nice but silent guy, perhaps a bit aloof at times but certainly an interesting personality. His looks were no shame though, he was indeed handsome, muscular body type and eyes that could piece into one’s heart at the right moment. Sandra had for once not been wrong that it was a very handsome guy indeed.

Drake had similar thoughts, the woman at that dating agency had stopped him on the streets and convinced him tonight would be the perfect date for him. He would not really believe it, but the woman had insisted so he had obliged to go to the meeting. He was a guy with very little patience for silly girls, he could not stand talking about topics like fashion, movies and the like he was a man of few words. But this girl intrigued him like no one else he had met, he did not know why, it simply felt right. Maybe if he again dared to explore love he might end up happy, might have a life filled of warm, laughter and love but it would take a while to get there, he had to try and make efforts, see where things would go he would have to get over his past girlfriend who left him to be with his best friend, he had to learn to move on with his life.

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tubbinary · 4 years

Text

ᕦ(✧ᗜ✧)ᕥ You take the moon and you take the sun. ᕦ(✧ᗜ✧)ᕥ

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) You take everything that sounds like fun. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

☞♥Ꮂ♥☞ You stir it all together and then you're done. ☞♥Ꮂ♥☞

ᕙ(◍.◎)ᕗ Rada rada rada rada rada rada. ᕙ(◍.◎)ᕗ

ᕦ(✧ᗜ✧)ᕥ ☞♥Ꮂ♥☞ ᕙ(◍.◎)ᕗ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) So come on in, feel free to do some looking.

Stay a while 'cause somethings always cooking.

Come on in, feel free to do some looking.

Stay a while 'cause somethings always cooking.

Yeah!!! ᕦ(✧ᗜ✧)ᕥ ☞♥Ꮂ♥☞ ᕙ(◍.◎)ᕗ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

You are about to get spammed with 600 dank memes. Prepare all nukes and weapons for the Great Spam War. If you can contain the amount of spam I have, you will be granted with special powers that allow you to smoke weed 200 times harder. Not only that, but you will have a laggy as fuck laptop. You know how lucky you are?????? My laptop runs at 669FPS and it never lags or is slow. YOU LUCKY SON OF A GUN. You will pay the price by me giving you a link (Which shall contain a download) which will wipe all your memory off the face of this universe and overwrite it with my own software, Memesoftlocker2.0000.0. You are so damn lucky you know that? NOT EVEN I HAVE IT SLUT. But if you were able to read up to this point congratulations, you suck. But click this link www.mymom.;;;;;;/eeeeeeee.crash; and you will be taken to a memory erase phrase. You lucky slut, but you will get the best computer software ever that makes your computer lag so bad that you can't even use it. LIKE HOW AMAZING??? Yes, I promise you this is 420% legit. But if you spread this abusive software you have EARNED I will suck you off this living universe so be careful buddy. Now, Please stop reading this message as it ends now...

Excuse me? I find vaping to be one of the best things in my life. It has carried me through the toughest of times and brought light and vapor upon my spirit. You're just another one of those people who doesn't believe in chem trails and fluoride turning us gay. Your ignorance to the government is what makes you a sheep in today's society. Have fun being a slave to todays's system.

🆗 son, 🌞 there ain't❌❌a ☝single☝fucking☝person☝ with any intellect👓👓📖who gives a 🎮remote🎮fuck🎮about your extensive vaping💯😎💨 talent. 😂I happen to be quite🎩the🎩intellectual🎩myself, so I can confirm✔✔this fact💯as truth™.👌if👌you👌think👌 that your vape💯😎💨 is going↗to get you hoes👯👯, you are utterly🐄 mistaken❌, fam👪. my pa👨 once taught📖 me the 😏secret😏 of life👍💛, and it was not❌❌ your vape💯😎💨 🆗🆒now listen 👂👂here my chum✌✌, my pa👨 was a man who kept it 💯💯💯💯💯💯. ✋that✋is✋six✋fucking✋hundreds✋ and he never❌🙅🙅 once vaped💯😎💨. The man 🚬smoked🚬some🚬mad🚬cigars🚬 because he wasnt❌the pussy🐱🐱you are🆗⁉❗⁉ he lived to be 💯 because he kept it 💯💯💯💯💯💯 and killed🔫🔪 👌every👌vaping👌fucker👌he👌saw👌🆗🆒😂😂👀👀 so in the spirit👻of me good ol pa👨, I think💭you should kys🔫 they have 🆓 vapes💯😎💨 in hell🔥and🔥it's🔥lit🔥for😂 unintelligent vaping💯😎💨 hooligans like yourself👌😂😂

I sexually Identify as a Gabe Newell. Ever since I was a boy I dreamed of filling my wallet by dropping Steam Sales onto 12 000 games at once. People say to me that a person being a Newell is impossible and I'm fucking retarded but I don't care, I'm beautiful. I have 10 computers worth over 10k each in order to drop new Steam Sales every few days. From now on I want you guys to call me "Gabe" and respect my right to get rich fast and discount needlessly. If you can't accept me you're a profitophobe and need to check your wallet. Thank you for being so understanding.

We regret to inform you that the card titled "Mommy's Debit" has been declinded your latest purchases due to suspicous activities. To unlock your card for further use, please confirm your recent purchases with your local bank. The listing follows

- 1x Monster Horse Dildo 12' Lubricated Thrusters

- 3x Backdoor Sluts 9

- 1x "Undetectable Aimbot" from AimJunkies

- 6x Magnum condoms

- 5x Bananas

- 1x Small Condom

- 2x Subscription to JakeChillz Minecraft stream

- 1x Deag's Rust Career

- 1x Gay Poster

Please respond back to us using your old email:

[email protected]

Thanks for your patience,

Wells All Mighty Lord Gabe.

Here in my garage, just bought this new lamborghini here. It’s fun to drive up here in the Steam Hills. But you know what I like more than single discounts? Steam Sales In fact, I’m a lot more proud of two new Steam Sales that I had to get installed to hold twelve thousand new discounts on Steam. It’s like what i say, “the more you discount, the more you earn.”

My Grandfather smoked his whole life. I was about 10 years old when my mother said to him, 'If you ever want to see your grandchildren graduate, you have to stop immediately.'. Tears welled up in his eyes when he realized what exactly was at stake. He gave it up immediately. Three years later he died of lung cancer. It was really sad and destroyed me. My mother said to me- 'Don't ever smoke. Please don't put your family through what your Grandfather put us through." I agreed. At 28, I have never touched a cigarette. I must say, I feel a very slight sense of regret for never having done it, because your post gave me cancer anyway.

ＨＥＹ　ＲＴＺ，　Ｉ’Ｍ　ＴＲＹＩＮＧ　ＴＯ　ＬＥＡＲＮ　ＴＯ　ＰＬＡＹ　ＲＩＫＩ．　Ｉ　ＪＵＳＴ　ＨＡＶＥ　Ａ　ＱＵＥＳＴＩＯＮ　ＡＢＯＵＴ　ＴＨＥ　ＳＫＩＬＬ　ＢＵＩＬＤ：　ＳＨＯＵＬＤ　Ｉ　ＭＡＸ　ＢＡＣＫＳＴＡＢ　ＬＩＫＥ　ＹＯＵ　ＢＡＣＫＳＴＡＢＢＥＤ　ＥＧ，　ＳＭＯＫＥＳＣＲＥＥＮ　ＳＯ　ＴＨＥＹ　ＭＩＳＳ　ＭＥ　ＬＩＫＥ　ＥＧ　ＭＩＳＳ　ＹＯＵ　７０％　ＯＦ　ＴＨＥ　ＴＩＭＥ，　ＯＲ　ＰＥＲＭＡＮＥＴ　ＩＮＶＩＳＩＢＩＬＩＴＹ　ＳＯ　Ｉ　ＣＯＵＬＤ　ＤＩＳＡＰＰＥＡＲ　ＬＩＫＥ　ＹＯＵ　ＤＩＳＡＰＰＥＡＲＥＤ　ＦＲＯＭ　ＥＧ

I sexually Identify as an Attack Helicopter. Ever since I was a boy I dreamed of soaring over the oilfields dropping hot sticky loads on disgusting foreigners. People say to me that a person being a helicopter is Impossible and I'm fucking retarded but I don't care, I'm beautiful. I'm having a plastic surgeon install rotary blades, 30 mm cannons and AMG-114 Hellfire missiles on my body. From now on I want you guys to call me "Apache" and respect my right to kill from above and kill needlessly. If you can't accept me you're a heliphobe and need to check your vehicle privilege. Thank you for being so understanding.

Gr8 b8, m8. I rel8, str8 appreci8, and congratul8. I r8 this b8 an 8/8. Plz no h8, I'm str8 ir8. Cr8 more, can't w8. We should convers8, I won't ber8, my number is 8888888, ask for N8. No calls l8 or out of st8. If on a d8, ask K8 to loc8. Even with a full pl8, I always have time to communic8 so don't hesit8. dont forget to medit8 and particip8 and masturb8 to allevi8 your ability to tabul8 the f8. We should meet up m8 and convers8 on how we can cre8 more gr8 b8, I'm sure everyone would appreci8, no h8. I don't mean to defl8 your hopes, but its hard to dict8 where the b8 will rel8 and we may end up with out being appreci8d, I'm sure you can rel8. We can cre8 b8 like alexander the gr8, stretch posts longer than the Nile's str8s. We'll be the captains of b8, 4chan our first m8s the growth r8 will spread to reddit and like real est8 and be a flow r8 of gr8 b8, like a blind d8 we'll coll8, meet me upst8 where we can convers8, or ice sk8 or lose w8 infl8 our hot air baloons and fly, tail g8. We could land in Kuw8, eat a soup pl8 followed by a dessert pl8 the payment r8 won't be too ir8 and hopefully our currency won't defl8. We'll head to the Israeli-St8, taker over like Herod the gr8 and b8 the jewish masses, 8 million, m8. We could interrel8 communism, thought it's past it's maturity d8, a department of st8, volunteer st8. reduce the infant mortality r8, all in the name of making gr8 b8 m8.

What the ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) did you just ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) say about me, you little ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)? I'll have you know I graduated top of my ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) in the ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), and I've been involved in numerous secret ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) on ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), and I have over 300 confirmed ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). I am trained in ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) warfare and I'm the top ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) in the entire US armed ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). You are nothing to me but just another ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). I will wipe you the ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) out with precision the ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) of which has never been seen before on this ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), mark my ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) words. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) think ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) can get away with saying that ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) to me over the ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)? Think again, ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). As we speak I am contacting my secret network of ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) across the ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) and your ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) is being ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) right now so you better ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) for the ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). The ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). You're ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) dead, ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). I can be ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), anytime, and I can ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) you in over seven hundred ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), and that's just with my bare ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). Not only am I extensively trained in ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) combat, but I have access to the entire ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) of the United States ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) off the face of the ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), you little ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) comment was about to bring down upon ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), maybe you would have held your ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying the price, you ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). I will ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) fury all over ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) and ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) will ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) in it. You're ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) dead, ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°).

My name is Artour Babaevsky. I grow up in smal farm to have make potatos. Father say "Artour, potato harvest is bad. Need you to have play professional Doto in Amerikanski for make money for head-scarf for babushka."I bring honor to komrade and babushka. Sorry for is not have English. Please no cyka pasta coperino pasterino liquidino throwerino.

hi every1 im new!!!!!!! holds up spork my name is katy but u can call me t3h PeNgU1N oF d00m!!!!!!!! lol…as u can see im very random!!!! thats why i came here, 2 meet random ppl like me _… im 13 years old (im mature 4 my age tho!!) i like 2 watch invader zim w/ my girlfreind (im bi if u dont like it deal w/it) its our favorite tv show!!! bcuz its SOOOO random!!!! shes random 2 of course but i want 2 meet more random ppl =) like they say the more the merrier!!!! lol…neways i hope 2 make alot of freinds here so give me lots of commentses!!!!

DOOOOOMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <--- me bein random again _^ hehe…toodles!!!!!

Hi, 4k player here who reported slahser. Slahser was our position 1 faceless void. He built a mek and had around 29 healing salves in his inventory. He would chrono both teams in the middle of a fight, salve his allies, pop mek, and proceeded to yell "SLAHSER'S WAY". We gave him position 1 farm so he could be a position 5.

Granted, his unorthodox build worked and carried us to victory but I still felt it deserved a report.

I owe my life to Arteezy. I got in a horrible car crash and i was in 6 month coma. The nurse switched to the Twitch channel to Arteezy's stream. I awoke from my coma and muted it.

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ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ RAISE YOUR DONGERS ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ

(ง ͠ ͠° ل͜ °)ง ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴsᴇᴇɴ ᴅᴏɴɢᴇʀ ɪs ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟɪᴇsᴛ (ง ͠° ل͜ °)ง

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ As I ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴜʀᴀɪ sᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴛ�� ᴍʏ sᴛᴏᴍᴀᴄʜ ᴀs I ᴡᴀs ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏᴍᴍɪᴛ sᴜᴅᴏᴋᴜ, I ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ Kʀɪᴘᴘ ᴘʟᴀʏ Cᴀsᴜᴀʟsᴛᴏɴᴇ... I ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ Kʀɪᴘ ᴡᴀs Nᴏʟɪғᴇ... ɴᴏᴡ I ᴀᴍ Nᴏʟɪғᴇ...ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʙʏᴇ ᴋʀɪᴘᴘ ▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

(ง ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)ง ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴏᴅs (ง ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)ง (ง •̀_•́)ง ʏᴇᴀʜ sᴘᴀᴍ ɪᴛ! (ง •̀_•́)ง

(╭ರ_•́)\ Mr. Fors we politely ask for the program 'Plug-Dj" to be used in this live broadcast for alas we will stir up a ruckus (╭ರ_•́)

(̿▀̿ ̿Ĺ̯̿̿▀̿ ̿)̄ ɴᴀᴍᴇ's ᴅᴏɴɢ. ᴊᴀᴍᴇs ᴅᴏɴɢ (̿▀̿ ̿Ĺ̯̿̿▀̿ ̿)̄

(ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง I have been training since before I was born, and today is the day. Today is the day I spam. (ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง

༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º ༽ºل͟º ༽ºل͟º ༽YOU CAME TO THE WRONG DONGERHOOD༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º ༽ºل͟º ༽ºل͟º ༽

༼ ºل͟º ༼ ºل͟º ༼ ºل͟º ༽ ºل͟º ༽ ºل͟º ༽ YOU PASTARINO'D THE WRONG DONGERINO ༼ ºل͟º ༼ ºل͟º ༼ ºل͟º ༽ ºل͟º ༽ ºل͟º ༽

༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º༽ºل͟º ༽ YOU COPERINO FRAPPUCCIONO PASTARINO'D THE WRONG DONGERINO ༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º༽ºل͟º ༽

༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º ༽ºل͟º ༽ºل͟º ༽You either die a DONG, or live long enough to become the DONGER༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º༼ ºل͟º ༽ºل͟º ༽ºل͟º ༽

༼ ಠل͟ರೃ༼ ಠل͟ರೃ༼ ಠل͟ರೃ༼ ಠل͟ರೃ ༽ಠل͟ರೃ ༽ಠل͟ರೃ ༽ YOU ARRIVED IN THE INCORRECT DONGERHOOD, SIR༼ ಠل͟ರೃ༼ ಠل͟ರೃ༼ ಠل͟ರೃ༼ ಠل͟ರೃ ༽ಠل͟ರೃ ༽ಠل͟ರೃ ༽

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )つ──☆*:・ﾟ clickty clack clickty clack with this chant I summon spam to the chat ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )つ──☆*:・ﾟ

ᕙ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ᕗ. ʜᴀʀᴅᴇʀ, ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ, ғᴀsᴛᴇʀ, ᴅᴏɴɢᴇʀ .ᕙ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ᕗ

ヽ(◉◡◔)ﾉ I'M LOL FAN AND I HAVE DOWN SYNDROME ヽ(◉◡◔)ﾉ

(ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴏɴɢᴇʀ, ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴇᴍʏ (ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง

(ง ͠° ل͜ °)ง LET ME DEMONSTRATE DONGER DIPLOMACY (ง ͠° ل͜ °)ง

(\ ( ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°) /) OUR DONGERS ARE RAZOR SHARP (\ ( ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°) /)

ヽ༼◥▶ل͜◀◤༽ﾉ RO RO RAISE YOUR DONGERS ヽ༼◥▶ل͜◀◤༽ﾉ

̿̿ ̿̿ ̿'̿'̵͇̿̿з=༼ ▀̿̿Ĺ̯̿̿▀̿ ̿ ༽=ε/̵͇̿̿/’̿’̿ ̿ ̿̿[} ̿ ̿ ̿ ̿^ Stop right there criminal scum! no one RIOTs on my watch. I'm confiscating your goods. now pay your fine, or it's off to jail.

̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿'̿'̵͇̿̿з=༼ ▀̿̿Ĺ̯̿̿▀̿ ̿ ༽ YOU'RE UNDER ARREST FOR BEING CASUAL. COME OUT WITH YOUR DONGERS RAISED ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿̿ ̿'̿'̵͇̿̿з=༼ ▀̿̿Ĺ̯̿̿▀̿ ̿ ༽

(ง'̀-'́)ง ＤＯＮＧＯＲＤＩＥ (ง'̀-'́)ง

ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ raise your dongers ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ

ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ VOICE OF AN ANGEL ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ

ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ LETS GET DONGERATED ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ

ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ RAISE YOUR BARNO ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ

ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ "I have a dong" ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ - Martin Luther King Jr.

ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ OJ poured and candle lit, with this chant i summon Kripp ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ

☑ OJ poured ☑ Candle lit ☑ Summoning the Kripp ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ

ヽ༼ຈل͜O༽ﾉ ʀᴀɪs ᴜʀ ᴅ��ɢᴇʀᴏ ヽ༼ຈل͜___ຈ༽ﾉ

(ง ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)งSuccubus release Kripp or taste our rage(ง ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)ง

ノ(ಠ_ಠノ ) ʟᴏᴡᴇʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴏɴɢᴇʀs ノ(ಠ_ಠノ)

ヽ༼Ὸل͜ຈ༽ﾉ HOIST THY DONGERS ヽ༼Ὸل͜ຈ༽ﾉ

ヽ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ﾉ Kripp you are kinda like my dad, except you're always there for me. ヽ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ﾉ

█▄༼ຈل͜ຈ༽▄█ yeah i work out

༼ ºل͟º ༽ I AM A DONG ༼ ºل͟º ༽

༼ ºل͟º༽ I DIDN'T CHOOSE THE DONGLIFE, THE DONGLIFE CHOSE ME ༼ ºل͟º༽

༼ ºل͟º༽ NO ONE CARED WHO I WAS UNTIL I PUT ON THE DONG ༼ ºل͟º༽

༼ ºººººل͟ººººº ༽ I AM SUPER DONG ༼ ºººººل͟ººººº ༽

┌∩┐༼ ºل͟º ༽┌∩┐ SUCK MY DONGER ┌∩┐༼ ºل͟º ༽┌∩┐

ζ༼Ɵ͆ل͜Ɵ͆༽ᶘ FINALLY A REAL DONG ζ༼Ɵ͆ل͜Ɵ͆༽ᶘ

<ᴍᴇssᴀɢᴇ ᴅᴏɴɢᴇʀᴇᴅ>

ヽ༼ʘ̚ل͜ʘ̚༽ﾉIS THAT A DONGER IN YOUR POCKET?ヽ༼ʘ̚ل͜ʘ̚༽ﾉ

༼ ͡■ل͜ ͡■༽ OPPA DONGER STYLE ༼ ͡■ل͜ ͡■༽

( ° ͜ ʖ °) REGI OP ( ° ͜ ʖ °)

(̿▀̿ ̿Ĺ̯̿̿▀̿ ̿)̄ IM DONG,JAMES DONG (̿▀̿ ̿Ĺ̯̿̿▀̿ ̿)̄

(ง⌐□ل͜□)ง WOULD YOU HIT A DONGER WITH GLASSES (ง⌐□ل͜□)ง

ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ CUDDLE UR DONGERS ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

ლ(́◉◞౪◟◉‵ლ) let me hold your donger for a while ლ(́◉◞౪◟◉‵ლ)

ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ง MY RIGHT DONG IS ALOT STRONGER THAN MY LEFT ONE ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ง

(✌ﾟ∀ﾟ)☞ May the DONG be with you! ☚(ﾟヮﾟ☚)

(⌐■_■)=/̵͇̿̿/'̿'̿̿̿ ̿ ̿̿ ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ Keep Your Dongers Where i Can See Them

̿'̿'\̵͇̿̿\з=( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)=ε/̵͇̿̿/'̿̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ DUDE̿̿ ̿̿ ̿'̿'\̵͇̿̿\з=( ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)=ε/̵͇̿̿/'̿̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ ̿ PLEASE NO COPY PASTERONI MACORONI DONGERIN

( ͝° ͜ʖ͡°) Mom always said my donger was big for my age ( ͝° ͜ʖ͡°)

(/ﾟДﾟ)/ WE WANT SPELUNKY (/ﾟДﾟ)/

─=≡Σ((( つ◕ل͜◕)つ sᴜᴘᴇʀ ᴅᴏɴɢ

(✌ﾟ∀ﾟ)☞ POINT ME TO THE DONGERS (✌ﾟ∀ﾟ)☞

ᕙ( ^ₒ^ c) 〇〇〇〇ᗩᗩᗩᗩᕼᕼ ᕙ( ^ₒ^ c)

ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ ArcheAge or BEES ヽ̛͟͢༼͝ຈ͢͠لຈ҉̛༽̨҉҉ﾉ̨

୧༼ಠ益ಠ༽୨ MRGLRLRLR ୧༼ಠ益ಠ༽୨

ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉITS A HARD DONG LIFE ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ

ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉMOLLYヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ

༼ つ ຈل͜ຈ ༽つ GIVE MOLLY ༼ つ ຈل͜ຈ ༽つ

†ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ† By the power of donger I summon MOLLY †ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ†

ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉTAKING A DUMPヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ

ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ WHAT DOESNT KILL ME ONLY MAKES ME DONGER ᕙ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ᕗ

ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ FOREVER DONG ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ

[̲̅$̲̅(̲̅ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°̲̅)̲̅$̲̅] Mo' money, mo' Dongers [̲̅$̲̅(̲̅ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°̲̅)̲̅$̲̅]

༼ᕗຈل͜ຈ༽ᕗ Drop Bows on 'em ༼ᕗຈل͜ຈ༽ᕗ

Ѱζ༼ᴼل͜ᴼ༽ᶘѰ HIT IT WITH THE FORK Ѱζ༼ᴼل͜ᴼ༽ᶘѰ

Ψ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽Ψ hit it with the fork Ψ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽Ψ

(∩ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)⊃━☆ﾟ. * ・｡ﾟ Copypastus Totalus!!

ヽヽ｀ヽ｀、ヽヽ｀ヽ｀、ヽヽ｀ヽ、ヽヽ｀ヽ｀、ヽヽ｀ヽ｀、｀、ヽヽ｀ヽ｀、ヽヽ｀ヽ｀、ヽヽ｀ヽ｀、ヽヽ｀ヽ｀、ヽヽ｀ヽ｀、ヽヽ｀ヽ｀、ヽヽ༼ຈ ل͜ຈ༽ﾉ☂ ɪᴛs ʀᴀɪɴɪɴɢ sᴀʟᴛ! ヽ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ﾉ☂ ヽ｀ヽ｀、ヽヽ｀ヽ｀、｀ヽ｀、ヽヽ｀ヽ｀、ヽヽ｀ヽ、ヽヽ｀ヽ

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ஜ۩۞۩ஜ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ ⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜ ⬜⬜⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬛⬜⬜⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜ ⬜⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬜⬜ ⬜⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛⬛⬛⬜⬛⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜ ⬜⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬜⬜ ⬜⬜⬛⬛⬜⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜ ⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜ ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ஜ۩۞۩ஜ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ஜ۩۞۩ஜ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬⬜⬜⬜⬜⬛⬛⬜⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬛⬛⬜⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬛⬛⬜⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬛⬛⬜⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬜⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬜⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ஜ۩۞۩ஜ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

⬜⬜⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬛⬜⬜⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬛⬛⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬛⬜⬜⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬛⬜⬜⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬛⬜⬜⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬛⬜⬜⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬛⬜⬜⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ஜ۩۞۩ஜ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ ⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜ ⬜⬜⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬛⬜⬜⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜ ⬜⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬜⬜ ⬜⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛⬛⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬜⬜ ⬜⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬜⬜ ⬜⬜⬛⬛⬜⬜⬛⬜⬛⬜⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜ ⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ஜ۩۞۩ஜ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ஜ۩۞۩ஜ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬⬜⬜⬜⬜⬛⬛⬜⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬛⬛⬜⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬛⬛⬜⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬛⬛⬜⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬜⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬜⬛⬛⬛⬛⬛⬜⬛⬛⬜⬜⬜⬜▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ஜ۩۞۩ஜ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

IM DELETING YOU, DADDY!😭👋 ██]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]] 10% complete..... ████]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]] 35% complete.... ███████]]]]]]]]]]]]]]]] 60% complete.... ███████████] 99% complete..... 🚫ERROR!🚫 💯True💯 Daddies are irreplaceable 💖I could never delete you Daddy!💖 Send this to ten other 👪Daddies👪 who give you 💦cummies💦 Or never get called ☁️squishy☁️ again❌❌😬😬❌❌ If you get 0 Back: no cummies for you 🚫🚫👿 3 back: you're squishy☁️💦 5 back: you're daddy's kitten😽👼💦 10+ back: Daddy

Fuck a hater , hit a snitch , your my girl 👭 , my 5 star bitch , i love you more than any dick 💕💯, && if i dont get this back 🕙 , you aint worth shit !! Send this to 8 girls you care about .. 💯 I love you , I love you forever !! 💯 Whoever stops this will suffer for 83 days !! 💯💯💯 Ready, set, GO !!!! in

Stahp. 👋 🏻 Don't Flirt Wit Meh. Do Yhu Not Know What In A➡ RELATIONSHIP⬅ Means.? Frfr.👋 🏻 I Am Loyal. 💯 I Am In Love.💗 && Nobody Gunna Come Between Us. 😝 Stop Wit Yhur Thirsty Asses Tryna Hit Me Up On The DL, I Am Commited.✌ 🏼👌🏼💯

! ! ! ATTENTION 2003 KIDS ! ! ! This 👇 is the last year of being a kid 👦👧! Because NEXT 👉YEAR! We gon be T33N4G3RS💁💅!! PARTYING 🎉💃 DRINKING 🍻🍸🍹🍷 MAKING OUT AND SEX 👅💦O_O PERIODS ☹🍫 HEARTBREAKS 💔☹ MIDDLE SCHOOL SOPHOMORES (7️⃣TH GRADE)

#this took a lot of effort wow #copypastas #swastika tw #submission

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headoverjojo · 5 years

Note

that meeting-their-newborn-kid scenario post you made with risotto and bruno was so sweet omg im dying also your writing is terrific. can I ask for the same kind of thing but with abbachio? he’s my fave and I just love goth dads.

Hello!! Awwwww, thank you so much for your kind words, darling :,) I hope you’ll find enjoyable this scenario too!

Leone Abbacchio meeting his just born baby

(Under the cut for length!)

It hadn’t be easy, for Abbacchio, since the very start. He needed a lot of time to convince himself to try to have a child, as he didn’t think he was suited to be a father. Just your gentle patience and your constant words of encouragement in the end convinced him that, maybe, it would have worked. You always reminded him all his progresses, how many steps forward he made in the years you spent together, first as friends, then as lovers and then as wife and husband. You always reminded him how more patient he was, how the light that always was inside his heart now could shine with more strength. You brought out the sparkle of that young policeman full of hopes and dreams that still was in his heart, under layers and layers of guilt, self-hatred and bitterness. You gave him a reason to live, a reason to choose for real what he wanted, instead of just following others’ orders. You gave him again hopes and dreams for a happier future, together. And so, the idea of a child, of the product of your love, wasn’t so bad. Maybe… with you at his side, maybe he would have made it.

He perfectly knew he wouldn’t have been the perfect father, but, all in all, who was so? He was human and humans make mistakes. But he would have learned from his mistakes and, oh, sure as hell he would have given everything he had to offer to be the best father he could be. It was one of the few things he was sure about, with the immense love and devotion he felt for you.

And so you tried. Maybe fate wanted you two to finally have a kid, maybe the universe was finally sighing in relief as it could finally proceed with its plans for Abbacchio, but not many attempts were necessary to conceive your baby. You took at least a couple of tests every week and, finally, after the second week of attempts, it signed a positive result. In that moment Abbacchio was out of the city due to a mission, but you couldn’t wait: you called him, rambling excitedly until Abbacchio told you to calm the hell down and speak slower, as he couldn’t understand a world of what you were babbling. You took a deep breath, still giggling in a total, overwhelming happiness, finally managing to communicate in a human speed. As the words left your mouth, a long silence replied to you. You were starting to grow worried, when a sigh reverberated in your ear, followed by Bruno’s voice, his partner for the mission, that informed you that Abbacchio just left back the phone to run to the car and drive back to Naples without one more word, leaving, well, him behind. You couldn’t help but laugh, as you wiped a couple of tears, shaking your head. Of course, you had to imagine it…

And so, in this flamboyant way, your pregnancy started. Abbacchio never left your side for more than few hours, accepting missions just in Naples or, mostly, around the city. In any case, he didn’t accept anything that could bring him far from you for more than half a day. You were surprised by Abbacchio’s total protectiveness and care! Yes, he always was protective and caring, in his a bit harsh way, especially due to the work he did: more than one time he woke up in cold sweat after dreaming about you dead in a dark alley, hit by a stand of an enemy gang or shot down in crossfire. So you never complained about it: you knew it was a feeling born from his sincere love for you and, now, for your baby. He couldn’t even bear the thought of losing you two.

You chuckled, even if you were crushed by regular waves of uncomfortable pain from the contractions, remembering how Abbacchio was so careful, with you, as he was scared to break you with his strength. You often had to take his hands and place them on your belly, smiling brightly when he slowly caressed it, gentle, delicate, starting to chuckle too when the baby started to kick back, as to reply to his caresses. It was obvious that Abbacchio was enamored with your baby, totally overcoming the doubts he had before his conceivement. Sometimes he still had a setback, but you never got angry or annoyed at it, as you knew this was a major change and event in his life and he was still healing. When he was feeling again full of doubts, you just took his head, making him gently lay down, his head on your lap, and you softly ran your fingers through his silver locks, murmuring again and again how proud of him you were, how good he was, and what wonderful father he would have been… and, as to confirm your words, the baby gently kicked where his father was caressing your belly. It always made him smile and, oh, Leone had such a beautiful smile, in those occasions… it was serene, a sparkle of joy lighted up his eyes. He seemed the young man he was, for once.

“We’re here, finally, eh…?” you said to your husband, a smile on your face that twisted in a grimace of pain as another contraction, nearer to the previous one, washed over you. Abbacchio tried to smile, but his eyes remained full of worry and concern. You couldn’t blame him; you too were a bit scared by this all. Still, even if he was dying inside, he was holding tightly your hand, giving you the breathing rhythm, as supportive as he could, and this was giving you the strength you needed to go on and overcome the fear.

“It will go all well, Y/N. You’re doing great now, you’re doing great…” he murmured to you, not to make you hear the tremble in his voice. Seeing you in pain was… difficult. He wanted so, so much to do something, everything, to soothe your pain, but he couldn’t. This wasn’t something he could help for. He could just hold your hand and stay at your side during all the labor.

“Signora Y/S, now you have to push, ok? A good push, good.” the doctor said, with a clear and calm voice, and you obeyed, gritting your teeth and squeezing Abbacchio’s hand, as you did as the doctor said. Abbacchio let you squeeze his hand as much as you need, without a single complain, holding back your hand, to make you feel he was here with you.

“You’re doing wonderfully, tesoro. It’s going all well.” he said to you, managing to gather enough calm to talk a bit louder than before, making you wobbly smile, as you pushed again, following the doctor’s words. You were doing good… And soon you would have held your baby. You had to go on.

“Last push, tesoro. Last one, you have been so good, tesoro, perfect, the baby is fine…” you whined, giving the last push, encouraged by your husband’s words. And, finally, a good and blessed baby cry echoed in the room, making you sigh in relief, as you plopped down the pillows. Your baby was here…

You smiled at Abbacchio, tired to the bones, giving his hand a last, gentle squeeze, before letting go of it. Abbacchio, whose eyes were glued on the, oh, so small baby who was moving in the nurse’s delicate hold, turned to you, blinking, as he was waking up from a dream.

“Go to our baby, caro…” you murmured, smiling again, relaxing on the pillows. Finally it was ended… you cracked open one eyes, smiling softly, when you saw the nurse gently putting the baby in their father’s arms, fixing a bit his hold and then smiling, nodding in approval. You eyes filled with tears of happiness, seeing how Abbacchio’s face was filled with pure awe and love, it seemed almost out of character from him, but… it just filled your heart in pure, blinding joy. You finally had the confirmation that that had been the right choice. And now you knew that Abbacchio was seeing it too.

The baby, now cleaned, was wiggling their small arms and Abbacchio chuckled a little, softened, as he bent his face on theirs, softly kissing their forehead -he hadn’t on his lipstick, so no marks- and gently rocking them back and forth. You smiled, when he lifted his head to turn to you and his eyes glimmered in joy and stupor. It was so wonderful to see him so… enraptured, enamored with his child…

“It’s a boy, Y/N. It’s a wonderful, perfect boy, he’s beautiful as you…” he murmured, with a watery chuckle, as he neared you, to let you see your son. You softly smiled, sighing in happiness, when Abbacchio sat near you, lowering enough to let you see and caress your baby boy. He was right… he was truly beautiful. Few strands of raven hair covered his small head and, now that he was opening his eyes, they revealed to be a stunning blue. But his eyes’ shape, his nose, even his lips… it all promised to be right as his father’s ones. He was the perfect mix of you and your husband. The fruit of your love.

“Leone… how would you like to call him?” you murmured, resting your head on his shoulder. Abbacchio kissed your temple, sweetly, while lulling the baby, who was safely nestling on his father’s chest, relishing in your soft caresses. Abbacchio remained silent for a while, his nose sunk in your hair, as he thought about it. A name for your boy…

“I… I’d like to call him Damiano.” you looked up, curious. Damiano? It was a nice name… Damiano Abbacchio. It sounded good…

“It is… was his name.” he explained, noticing your interrogative gaze. You widened a bit your eyes, as everything became clear. So his name was Damiano… Abbacchio never said it, before. The sporadic times he talked about him, he was always a “he” or “my partner”, but he never had a name, at least until that moment.

You smiled sweetly, nodding, bending to give to your little Damiano a small kiss on his chubby kiss, earning a slow and sleepy blink that made you softly chuckle. He was so cute…

“I love it, tesoro. Damiano is perfect.” you murmured, resting your head on Abbacchio’s shoulder again, softly caressing Damiano’s little hand, while he was pressing himself on his father’s chest, searching for warmth. You smiled again, softened by the tenderness of the moment and by Abbacchio’s soft, soft smile. Yes… your Damiano was perfect, as this moment.

It was all perfect.

#jjba #vento aureo #bruno's gang #leone abbacchio #fem s/o #leone's child #dad!abbacchio #holding first born baby #pregnancy topic #scenario #sfw #anon ask

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sirius · 5 years

Text

Young gods Part 7

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader, Remus Lupin x Reader, Regulus Black x Reader

Warnings: Graphic description of blood, swearing, suicide mention, scars, alcohol abuse.

Word Count: 7077

A/N: ugh so it took me so long to frickin find a good enough video to gif but do you think i could find one??? so the above gif is not mine. ANyway, im hoping to post more regularly now, and im going to try work on other stuff apart from young gods and chaos theory. just to mix it up, y’know? anyway, here we go. Be aware that toward the end, there is graphic description of blood and suicide mention. thank you for your messages and comments etc i really love reading them!

***

Chapter Seven: Be Alright or Wish You Were Here

The living room of Ashton Manor is oppressively, unbearably quiet.

The silence stretches and settles over you like a bad omen, ringing in your ears ominously as you stand in front of Regulus, in front of Walburga and Orion Black, and Thea and all you can muster is a very faint, very broken...

“I don’t understand.”

Because you don’t. You don’t understand how you can go from kissing Remus Lupin on a Ferris Wheel to becoming engaged to Regulus Black in a matter of hours.

But you suppose that’s how fate works; in ways that no one can understand.

“I don’t expect you to understand,” Grandmama Thea coos, softly, “Not yet, anyway.”

Somewhere behind you, Remus Lupin gives a cold, derisive scoff, “With all due respect, Mrs Ashton, But are you really going to force (Y/N) to marry the boy who attacked your granddaughter.”

Regulus narrows a cold glare on Remus, “I didn’t attack her.”

“My apologies,” Remus snips, sardonically, not sounding apologetic at all, “Does ‘betrayed’ sound better to you?”

Walburga Black arches a sharp, black eyebrow and corrects Remus in a smooth, honeyed voice, “I don’t see how this concerns you, boy. This is between the Ashton’s and the Blacks.”

A beat of icy silence, thick with condescension and frustration, lapses between everyone in the room. You glance at Remus, just in time to catch him frown and avert his gaze, lips pressing together.

“Of course,” Remus mutters, sourly, “I’ll be...waiting outside, then.”

Panic fills the ridges of your rib cage, stomach twisting into a piercing knot of apprehension and resentment as you squeeze his hand in a desperate, pleading attempt to keep him close. But Remus flashes a small smile, one that droops at its edges, like he had intended for it to be reassuring but couldn’t quite muster up the energy to make it convincing. He untangles his fingers from yours and leaves, footsteps creaking on the wood panelling of the floorboards.

When the door closes shut, Walburga straightens, stiffening her spine and raising her chin. Her eyes glint like light bouncing off the tip of a steel blade.

“Right, as I was saying,” she drawls, ominously casual, the faint edge of her French accent clipping her words, “We’ll need to organise the announcement dinner as soon as possible. Perhaps on New Years Eve.”

“Good,” Grandmama Thea nods, “I’ll make all the arrangements.”

“No,” Walburga snips, “I will. We’ll host it at our home. I insist.”

Thea cocks an eyebrow, expression neutral and masked, “Fine.”

A flicker of a smile flits across Walburga’s painted, red lips, “Excellent. Once we’ve made the announcement, we can begin planning the engagement party.”

“It’ll have to be after the school year has ended,” Grandmama Thea states, sternly.

Walburga’s expression freezes, posture steeled, “You do know what that will mean...for us...for you.”

“I understand perfectly,” Grandmama Thea snips in a tone that can not be argued with, “But I will not put my granddaughter's education on hold. She will be an independent, educated woman before she is any man's wife.”

Walburga drums her long, slender fingers on her lap, “Of course. I believe it was you who once said that a woman with beauty can bend a man around her finger, but a woman with intelligence can hold the entire world in her hands.”

Grandmama Thea takes a sip of sherry, swallowing more than just alcohol, “I’m glad you understand.”

Walburga stands, running her elegant, jewelled hands down the front of her dress, “In the meantime, I will begin preparations for the announcement dinner.”

“Excuse me,” you snap, irritation prickling across your scalp, leaking into your voice, “But I still have no idea what’s going on.”

Walburga shoots you an icy, sharp glare, heavy with judgment and disdain and boring into you like the merciless tip of a drill. There is no kindness or warmth in her eyes, like staring into the gaping mouth of a collapsing, white hole. They’re the type of eyes that could destroy an entire army if she wanted to.

“I expect you to be on time,” she orders, coldly, “My son's future wife must always be punctual, polite, well-dressed and composed.”

“Of course,” your grandmother gives a thin smile, mimicking Walburga and rising from the settee, “We’ll be there and we will be on time. I’ll see you out.”

Thea walks gracefully past you, leading Walburga out of the room. Walburga glides behind your grandmother with practised grace. She doesn’t look at you when she passes, wrinkling her nose as though you were a bad smell, chin held high and shoulders squared.

Regulus trails behind her sheepishly, eyes on the floor as though he were a weary dog on a steel leash being tugged along by a ruthless owner. Your teeth clamp down on to the velvety flesh of your inner cheek, nails digging into the smooth skin of your palms. The metre or so that briefly separates you as he passes to get to the door feels far too close for comfort and you take a step back, breath lodged behind your tonsils.

It’s then that you register a scrutinising gaze, unfamiliar and careful and burning into the side of your skull. Studying you, like you’re a squirming wreck of a specimen pinned beneath the glaring, relentless glass of a microscope. Reading you, like a foreign language has been scrawled onto your skin. You don’t turn to look, barely managing to suppress the shiver that attempts to crawl down your spine.

“You’re not what I expected,” comes the husky voice of Orion Black. He doesn’t sound surprised or disappointed but intrigued.

“And what were you expecting, Sir?” You ask, nails burying themselves further into your clammy palms as you finally turn to look at him.

You wish you hadn’t.

Orion is more handsome up close, the razor-sharp lines and edges of his face accentuated in the firelight, composed and cool, a hostile curiosity lurking beneath the dark, clear depths of his colourless eyes.

“Not you,” He responds, coldly, in a snarl not unlike the low growl of thunder “Regardless, I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

With that, he stalks away from you and exits the room, his presence leaving behind a haunting feeling of dread, like the shivering whisper of vengeful ghosts. You swallow the scream of frustration and fear climbing up the length of your throat.

The floor begins to sway beneath your feet, fault lines colliding beneath the thick crust of the earth and you feel your knees buckle before you drop onto the soft, moss-green cushioning of a settee, burying your face in your hands.

This had to be a test of loyalty, patience, endurance. A hoax carefully crafted by Dumbledore to bend you to your limits. Your chest feels brittle, breath fragile and jagged as bile and fear and malice slosh together in your lower belly, burning through your gut like acid, puttering around at the back of your throat, bitter on your tongue.

“You must have a lot of questions.”

You jump, heart leaping into your throat. The willowy figure of Grandmama Thea stands in the doorway, casting sharp shadows across the floor.

“That’s the understatement of the year,” you breathe, voice trembling.

Grandmama Thea crosses the room and sits by your side, her presence infusing the air with her expensive, floral perfume. She grasps your hand in hers, giving it a comforting squeeze.

“This is really happening, isn’t it?” You ask voice barely a whisper on your lips.

Grandmama Thea nods forlornly, “Yes, my sweet.”

You swallow thickly, steeling your spine and resisting the urge to dissolve into a sobbing mess.

“Why?”

Grandmama Thea casts her gaze to the flickering fire, “I suppose it starts with your father, Nicholas. He was supposed to marry Walburga, you see. The Ashton bloodline is a dying breed, riddled with blood curses and scandals and all sorts of dark secrets that would make the Devil shudder. So, to continue what was left of the Ashton legacy, I signed a legal contract with Pollux Black, Walburga’s father, that stated that when Nicholas came of age, he would marry Walburga and produce suitable heirs. It seemed like a smart match on paper; two firstborns from prestigious wizarding families joining together to continue the legacy and break the incestral tradition that is so prevelent in pureblood families. Only...”

Grandmama Thea breaks off, a wry smile flitting across her lips.

“I didn’t take into account how much of a rascal your father could be. He said Walburga was an ‘arrogant bitch with a thirty-inch iron wand jammed up her ass’ and he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life with her. I didn’t realise he’d already given his heart to someone else - you’re mother - a bright muggleborn witch he met while at Hogwarts. So, when he turned seventeen, he ran off with your mother and eloped.”

Your grandmother fiddles with her gold wedding band anxiously, a pained expression crossing her face.

“The thing is, a legal contract is binding, (Y/N). It demands repayment if it’s not fulfilled, and it demands a high price. It would have cursed him if it weren’t for my intervention...”

Your grandmother begins unbuttoning her silky, cream blouse, revealing several long, thick scars stitched into her smooth skin, starting at her sternum.

“What-?” You gasp, aghast. Your grandmother drapes her elegant, slender fingers over yours again.

“A mothers love for her child can be so profound, it can conquer anything, even death.”

Grandmama Thea drags your hand away from your lap and trails your cold fingers over the ridges of her scars, from her sternum to her naval, “Count them.”

Your brows knit together as you count them, touch ghosting over her skin. You bite your lip when you reach the last scar, understanding.

“Thirteen,” you murmur, realisation dawning on you, “For each year that the contract wasn’t fulfilled.”

Your grandmama Thea nods, “Every year, on the fifth of August, the day your father was supposed to marry Walburga, I would receive a new scar and the pain would worsen. Though the scar would heal, the pain would remain, like the wound was being unstitched every single day. But the pain was worth your father’s happiness, for if he had fulfilled the contract, I wouldn’t have had you.”

Thea sighs sadly, dropping her gaze as she pinches the pendant on her necklace, “I still couldn’t save him...my sweet boy. I couldn’t save him from-from those savages, those monsters.” Thea’s eyes flash with something deadly, something unfamiliar, cold and cruel. She composes herself, reining in her anger and straightening her spine, “The curse is lifted for now, but I would still prefer that searing pain I felt every day for thirteen years than the pain that your father’s death has left behind. There’s no greater sorrow for a parent, to bury their child...”

Thea trails off, fighting back tears, one hand running across her lower belly. Your heart aches, throbs like an open wound. You sense her hesitation, hedging across the tip of her soft lips that are usually always curved into the smile you love so dearly.

“For now...?” You prompt and your Grandmama exhales a shaky sigh, buttoning up her blouse again.

“The contract is still binding,” she explains, “It still requires two firstborns from the Black and Ashton family to marry and produce heirs when both have come of age. It was supposed to be Sirius but since he’s disowned, the contract doesn’t consider him the first born Black.”

You huff a mirthless, bitter laugh at that, the irony of the situation not lost to you. If Sirius hadn’t been disowned, you would have been in an arranged marriage with the boy you had been infatuated with for so many years, the dreams you had once entertained during the haze of your blind obsession with him finally coming true.

Your breath freezes when realisation suddenly dawns on you, veins crystallising and blood running cold, “You said before that-that Regulus and I have to...produce heirs?”

Your grandmother nods sadly, lips turning into a sad, thin frown, “Yes, dear. I’m working to get that changed, but I can’t guarantee anything.”

Your stomach curls in on itself, twisting into a clenched fist. You don’t think you could even look Regulus in the eye, let alone touch him.

“I-I can’t do this,” you breathe, voice rattling on your quivering lips, “I can’t-I can’t marry him. I can’t...have sex with him, or raise children with him, after what he did to me...”

Your Grandmama Thea nods slowly. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears as she holds her warm hand to your cheek.

“I would do it again,” she murmurs, softly, “If it means your happiness, I would take all the pain in the world for you, my dear. It’s my fault you’re in this position.”

You shake your head quickly, eyes welling with tears, “No. I would never let you do that. We’ll...we’ll sort something out.”

Your eyes drift to your grandmothers sternum, where her scars lay hidden beneath her blouse. How could your father be so selfish? Grandmama Thea had endured thirteen years of constant pain, and yet he was happily cruising through life with his pretty wife and blushing baby girl. Disdain suddenly floods through you, hot and prickly.

“You mustn’t blame your father,” Thea says, as though she had read your mind, “I should never have expected that much from him.”

A strange expression flickers across Thea’s face as she gives you a look so full of hidden meaning, you think you must be imagining it, “I’m-I’m not the woman you think I am.”

You frown at her, “What do you mean?”

Thea opens her mouth to answer, but at that moment, the door flies open and your friends stream into the room, rushing to your side.

“Remus told us what happened,” James says, looking sympathetic.

“She can’t marry him,” Kaitlyn snaps, eyes narrowing on your Grandmama, “He-he doesn’t deserve her. Besides, she’s already in a relationship!”

“The contract demands a legal marriage,” Grandmama Thea says, voice warm and filled with a subtle suggestion, “The contract doesn’t require you to love each other...”

You blink at your Grandmama, “Are you suggesting that I have an affair?”

Thea flashes a mischievous smile, eyes glittering as she flicks a gaze between you and Remus. You and Remus glance at each other and your cheeks glow at the suggestion.

“I said no such thing,” she murmurs, though her eyes dance with that familiar light, one you’d seen in your father.

“So, when is this all happening.”

Sirius’ voice sounds from the doorway and your gaze follows the sound of his voice, finding him leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. His biceps bulge beneath his shirt, teasing a glimpse of strong muscle and smooth skin.

“We haven’t set a date yet,” Thea answers, thumb brushing against her wedding ring, “But it’ll be after (Y/N) graduates.”

“That’s two years from now,” you murmur, “I thought Regulus said we’d be married this time next year?”

“I bought you some time,” Thea explains, softly squeezing your hand, “I want you to have as much freedom as possible.”

Your eyes prick with tears as she runs her thumb across your palm.

“Carpe Diem,” Sirius drawls, pushing himself off the door frame and sauntering into the room, “Sieze the day.”

“Exactly,” James says, grinning, “We’ll make sure you enjoy every second of freedom before Walburga and Orion Black suck it all up.”

“(Y/N) shouldn’t have to marry him in the first place!” Kaitlyn snaps, jaw clicking shut, “She shouldn’t have to marry anyone!”

Thea’s expression pinches into a wince, thumb tapping a nervous staccato onto her wedding band. Glancing at you, she rises from her seat gracefully, as though she were entertaining guests and catches your eye.

“I think I’ll retire to my bed,” she sighs, palms smoothing out the wrinkles in her skirt, “You are all welcome to stay as long as you like and make yourselves at home.”

With a final, loving glance at you, Thea whirls around and leaves, the click of her heels against the marble flooring echoing through the mansion. You sigh as you listen to her steps stretch into silence before glancing at Remus.

“I think it’s time that I show you all that treehouse.”

***

Everything is much easier, more funnier, less painful when you’re drunk.

You notice this as you explain everything that your grandmother had told you, how there was a curse placed on the contract, how your father had risked it all to elope and have you. You even parroted back what your father had told Grandmama Thea about Walburga, much to the amusement of Sirius and James. With the aid of liquid courage, everything seems to pour out of you, like ink spilling across parchment.

“I’m caught between a rock and a hard place,” you sigh, trying not to slur your words together, “If I marry Regulus, I’m trapped in a marriage I don’t want to be in with the person who betrayed me to become a death eater. But if I don’t marry Regulus, it’ll curse both me and my Grandma...” you trail a shaky finger down your sternum, to just beneath your navel, thinking of your grandmothers scars “All because my dad wanted to be selfish.”

“Was it selfish, though?” Sirius asks, back pressed against the wooden wall of your treehouse, “He was brave enough to run off with your mother, and because he did, you’re here.”

“But he hurt my grandma.”

“She tried to force him into marrying that dragon of a woman.”

“Because she thought she was doing the right thing!” You snap, coldly, “Grandmama Thea said that the Ashton family line is a ‘dying breed, riddled with blood curses and secrets’ and she’s right! my grandad died before I was born, my dad is dead, my Aunt ran off to America to escape her problems, my Uncle is in the psychiatric ward of St Mungos because he’s a drug addict hallucinating shadow monsters and masked men and my grandma...she thought she was doing the right thing by protecting the Ashton legacy.”

Sirius regards you with an unexpectedly cool measure of detachment, arms crossed over his chest, “The irony of it is, if - when - you marry Regulus, the Ashton line ends. You’ll become a Black, unless your Uncle gets better and settles down. The Ashton line has already ended.”

“(Y/N) is collateral damage,” Kaitlyn pipes up from the corner, her nails scraping across the cool, clear glass of her vodka bottle, “It’s not about the blood line anymore, it’s about fulfilling some dumb, misogynistic contract.”

James scoffs, taking a swig of tequila and wincing as it scorches his throat, “This is so fucked up.”

Remus hums in agreement, draping a careless arm across your shoulders. His fingertips graze the nape of your neck, a warm whisper of contact that you welcome with a small shudder. He taps the knob of your shoulder with his thumb absentmindedly, contemplatively silent, warm against your side.

“We were thinking,” James begins, tone infectiously lazy and deliberate, “It’s about time that you got your tattoo. Both of you.”

Kaitlyn bolts upright, blinking rapidly, “What?”

James and Sirius exchange a look, “We think you’ve earned your tattoos.”

You and Kaitlyn glance at each other, unsure of whether James will deliver the punch line or not. The following silence is answer enough, and Kaitlyn slumps back against the wall, a smile tracing the curve of her lips.

“Now?” She asks and James responds with a nod.

“If that’s what you want.”

You turn to Remus, expression uncertain, and he offers you a gentle, reassuring smile, “It doesn’t hurt.”

Tugging down on the collar of his shirt, Remus brandishes his Phoenix tattoo, which is perched just above a long scar on his left breast plate. Your fingers ghost across his skin, feather-light and cool, and Remus covers his hand over yours, splaying your fingers across his chest. His heartbeat hums beneath your palm, steady and sure, a rhythm dedicated to you.

“How do we get our tattoo?” Kaitlyn asks, mildly intrigued, her eyes darting between James and Sirius. James throws a nod toward Sirius.

“Sirius carries around a special quill. He tattoos it onto your skin.”

Kaitlyn stiffens at first, then visibly recoils, as though the idea of Sirius touching her could physically slap her, “No way...not Sirius...”

Sirius barks a laugh, mouth tilting into a lopsided, dodgy sort of grin, “What? You don’t want to get up close and personal?”

Kaitlyn shakes her head, almost like she’s tempted to say something, but doesn’t. Instead, she folds her hands over her chest mulishly, protectively, not meeting Sirius’ eye.

James gives her a careless, easy, smile, eyes glittering like he’s amused - which he is - and cocks a brow.

“What is it that you hate so much about Sirius?” James asks, lazily cracking his knuckles one at a time.

Kaitlyn freezes, tucking a thick chunk of hair behind her ear, “He’s a bully, a sleaze and a womaniser who thinks women are just pieces of property in his monopoly.”

Sirius shrugs, “First of all, that’s not true. I don’t think women are property, I think women are women, and that alone means they are already superior to men. I just happen to enjoy worshipping their bodies during sexual inter course,” Kaitlyn crinkles her nose and Sirius’ eyes flash as he continues, “But that didn’t stop you, did it love?”

Kaitlyn glares dangerously at Sirius, whose grin bends smugly, triumphantly, like he’s just won a first prize in a verbal spar.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Peter snaps, and Sirius slants a devilish glance at Kaitlyn.

“It’s doesn’t mean what you think it does,” Sirius answers, calmly, “So you don’t have to get defensive about it.”

“I wasn’t being defensive,” Peter snaps, defensively.

Sirius snorts a gravelly laugh, “Sure you weren’t.”

Peter frowns, face flushed from more than just the alcohol. He opens his mouth to argue further, but James hurriedly intervenes.

“So what about you, (Y/N)? Do you want to officially become a member of the Order?”

You consider James measuredly, reflecting on the past hour, the past few days, the past week. Imagining an extremely morbid future of fake smiles and resigned laughter and ostentatious ballgowns and the destructive glare of Walburga and the wiltering presence of Orion, how they would love to see you choke and splutter as they fit a diamond noose around your neck, squeeze the air out of your lungs, sink their claws into your flesh and tear out every nerve in your body until all that is left is a shell, a carbon-copy of their son, because that’s exactly what they did to him, what they do. They expect other people to shrivel beneath their scrutiny, crumble to ash in their presence.

You think about how Walburga would squirm if she knew that her ‘sons future wife’ had a tattoo sketched by her own disowned, embarrassment of a son, and...

You smile.

“Yeah,” you say, confidently, “Alright.”

Sirius grins wickedly, climbing to his feet.

“Alright, Ashton. Where do you want your tattoo?”

For whatever reason, Grandmama Thea floats to the forefront of your mind, the anguish that had filled out every corner of her expression, her grief and her scars, faded mementos threaded into the lining of her skin, permenant reminders of a shattered past that she can’t quite escape from.

“On my sternum,” you reply, gently shrugging Remus’ arm off and standing. Your fingers outline a path through the barrier of your clothes, imagining the Phoenix stretching it’s wings across your ribcage, connecting your ribs together, “Right here.”

You point at the small triangle between your breasts. Sirius follows your fingers as though you were outlining a map, and then he coughs, his nostrils flaring, the tips of his ears pinking.

“You do realise you’ll have to take off your - um - your bra.”

In your peripherals, you catch the lines in Remus’ body tense. He’s holding himself preternaturally still, his posture stiff, like he's steeling himself for a fight.

“Y-Yes,” you murmur, cheeks burning, “Regardless, I want it on my sternum.”

Sirius’ expression cycles through a range of emotions you can barely keep up with; surprise, curiosity, a little bit impressed, a little bit fascinated, and then they seem to fuse together into a smirk that reminds you of a patient serpent ready to strike.

“You continue to surprise me, Doll,” Sirius drawls, dipping into the inner pocket of his jacket and retrieving a white-feathered quill.

You glance back at Remus, catching his eye and gulping at how blue they are, deep, swirling shades of Prussian blue that reminds you of staring into the deepest, darkest parts of the ocean, the parts that hide sunken ships and age-old secrets.

Remus climbs to his feet and presses a tender kiss to your forehead, “I’ll give you some privacy.”

You arch up onto the tips of your toes and capture his lips in a searing kiss, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him close. He tastes of vodka and smells like fresh rain and your head spins, lips breaking into a smile against his.

“See you soon,” you murmur, softly, pecking his lips one last time.

Remus smiles when he breaks away, joining James, Kaitlyn and Peter who idle outside on the wooden balcony.

“Well,” Sirius begins, “You’ll need to - erm - take your coat and shirt off.”

“Right,” you murmur, lacing the hem of your shirt between your fingertips.

Sirius turns, giving you privacy as you shrug off your coat, pull your shirt over your head, and bend your arms behind your back to unclasp your bra. You kick your clothes to the corner of the treehouse, covering your breasts with the clammy palms of your hand, skin puckering against the cold, winter air and repressing the shiver that tries to scale down your spine.

“Okay,” you say in a shaky breath, a spluttering nest of nervous energy glowing in your lower belly, wallowing with the scorching heat of the alcohol, warming you up despite the cold, and then the floorboards creak and Sirius shifts, turning around to face you and he-

He blinks.

Once.

Twice.

Again.

And then, he coughs, clears his throat, his grip on the quill tightening then slackening then tightening.

“Alright,” he mutters, steeling himself, “Sit - ah - sit on that chair and I’ll - I’ll begin.”

You wordlessly obey Sirius, dropping onto the seat nearby, watching as Sirius advances. He grabs another empty chair and drags it in front of you, settling onto it and then sliding it closer, surveying the delicate skin between your breasts.

Sirius taps your thighs and nudges them apart, scooting closer, eliminating any distance between you. The sudden contact making you jump.

“Sorry,” He chortles and your cheeks flush with embarrassment when you realise you could practically slide onto his lap.

Tentatively, Sirius raises his fingers and you bite down on a gasp, shocked at how warm his touch is as his fingertips skate across your cool skin.

After tying his hair back into a small bun on his head, Sirius taps the tip of the quill against his knee and the feather changes colour, vibrant shades of orange and red and yellow shooting through the silky white.

“This is going to tickle,” he says, glancing up at you and meeting your eyes. You nod, confidently at first, insistant.

Sirius raises the quill and pricks your skin, quickly and deliberately, and a burst of orange blossoms beneath your skin. You gape down at the small fleck of orange, forming like a petal beneath your skin.

A peculiar sort of silence rings out between the two of you as Sirius concentrates, the tight prickle around your sternum lapsing into a dancing tickle stitching itself across your skin.

“So, why the sternum?” Sirius asks, the tip of his tongue poking out between his lips.

You jut your chin at him, remembering the fluttering Phoenix perched on the left side of his ribs, “Why did you get yours on your ribs?”

Sirius’ lips curl, red velvet peeling back to give you a glimpse of even, white teeth, “You going to answer every question I have about you with another question?”

You shrug, “Depends. Will you?”

The sharp, needle-like point of the quill pauses, hesitates. Sirius licks his lips, “Only if there’s something I’m trying to hide.”

You roll your eyes, irritation climbing up the base of your skull, “Why does there have to be someone with something to hide? Why do I have to have a reason?”

“Because girls like you don’t just do things without calculating every single possibility first,” Sirius explains, eyes narrowing on yours, “It’s one of the reasons why Remus is so fond of you.”

You cock a defensive eyebrow, “Girls like me?”

Sirius flashes a wicked grin, “I mean no offence.”

The pin-prick tickle of the quill resumes, brushing between your breasts. Sirius licks his lips again.

A fragile sort of silence begins to stretch, tense and deep and thick between you and Sirius as he concentrates. You stare at the shadowed figures crowded on the balcony, laughing and chatting. You can see Remus hovering near the door, stealing glances at you from the doorframe.

“So,” you begin, slowly, shattering the silence, “I didn’t realise you were into art.”

Sirius shrugs, “I enjoy the occasional sketch here and there.”

You nod, a grin teasing your lips, “I wonder where Dumbledore got his tattoo done?”

Sirius splutters between a snort of laughter and a gurgle of disgust, “The senior members of the Order don’t have tattoos. It’s just us kids that wanted them.”

“Naturally.”

“Though I’m pretty sure that if Dumbledore wanted a tat, he’d be a lower-back kind of guy.”

“Yeah?” You giggle, brows raised, “How can you be so sure?”

“I just know these things,” Sirius chortles and you both share a moment of laughter.

It feels good to dissolve into something warm and comforting after such a challenging evening. You take a long moment to study Sirius, the way his smile fades as his laughter dwindles and how his eyes glitter. Finally, after silent deliberation, you dig your teeth into your bottom lip and sigh.

“The curse from the contract...” you begin, catching Sirius’ attention, “...it left permanent marks on my grandma. For every year that my dad wasn’t married to Walburga, it gave her a new scar. She was in a constant state of pain, every day of her life, for thirteen years. The first scar formed across her sternum, right...” you gesture to where Sirius is currently etching the Phoenix into your skin.

Sirius glances at you, his expression unreadable, even to you. He seems to be somewhere between contemplative and sympathetic.

“Anyway,” you continue, after a brief pause, “I - um - I chose my sternum because I wanted a physical way to remember why I’m doing this and who I’m doing this for.”

“And who are you doing this for?” Sirius asks, the tip of his elegantly long finger tapping out something unfamiliar on your thigh, as though in morse code.

“For my Grandma,” you answer, simply, “I’m doing this for her.”

Sirius arches a sharp brow, quill hovering.

“Nah,” he says, shaking his head pensively, “You can’t do it for other people. People are...people can change. Even the people you trust, the people you love the most...they can change.”

Your brows pinch together at his words, slanting him a disbelieving glance, “Not my grandmama. She’s-she’s never changed.”

Sirius hums, low and non-committal. After another lingering silence, Sirius leans forward, so close you think he’s going to press a kiss to your skin, and exhales, breath hot and melting away the coolness lingering on your skin.

Something flutters beneath your skin, wings stretching and shuddering. You stare down at the Phoenix nestled comfortably between your breasts, her black eyes blinking to life.

“Alright, Ashton,” he grins, leaning back in his seat to admire his work, “You’re an official member of the Order!”

You laugh on impulse, a grin cracking across your lips in awe.

“Here’s how it works,” Sirius begins, plucking his wand from his back pocket, “Press your wand against her to bind them, so she’ll only answer to your wand.”

Sirius pulls off his own shirt to demonstrate. Sweeping your gaze hastily past the plane of rippling muscles of Sirius body, you notice that Sirius’ Phoenix is different to yours and Remus’ and even your own, and admire the attention to detail and uniqueness Sirius has given each one.

“After that,” Sirius continues, “If we need to meet, she’ll alert you. You’ll feel a warmth like sticking your hands near the fire when we need to convene. You’ll also be able to disguise her by tapping her three times with your wand. Try it when you’ve got your bra on.”

Sirius wheels around to give you privacy as you reach for your bra and clip it on. And after retrieving your wand, you follow Sirius’ instructions, tapping the tip against your Phoenix, who glows gold as she binds herself to you. True to Sirius’ words, when you tap three times in precise movements, she vanishes, though you can still feel her beneath your skin, emitting warmth like a sun captured within the furnace between your breasts.

You tap your wand against her and she reappears, a startling splash of screaming colour against your skin.

“Thank you, Sirius,” you beam as you slide into your coat. Sirius turns back toward you, eyes like liquid steel bleeding into azure blue depths.

“No problem,” he shrugs, his smirk a little crooked, “As I said, you continue to surprise me, Doll.”

Some part of you doesn’t believe him but another part of you, another part that knows better, thinks that maybe it’s true.

(It is, and that terrifies him)

***

October 31st 1979

Ashton Manor

***

This is the part of the story that Althea Ashton never tells. She keeps it hidden from the world, bottled up in a jar and held close to her heart. And maybe that makes her selfish, but as she watches her young family play in the gardens of Ashton Manor, Thea reasons that she doesn’t mind being called selfish for once.

The sun is a large, amber diamond in the sky, spilling golden light onto the lush, green gardens and catching on the gemstones on Nicholas’ crown. He’d spent all afternoon on that crown, charming it to make the plastic look real. He‘s always been clever with charms, clever with anything that involves logic and reason, and Nick has always encouraged that in his children, especially in his eldest son. Thea allows herself to smile, feeling her heart swell beneath her floral sundress. If Nicholas asked for it, Thea would give him the sun.

Beside him, Delilah beams as she unsheathes her wooden sword and pins her father to the ground with the tip. She’s only seven, but she’s proving to be the most cunning out of her siblings. Thea can already see it; Delilah Ashton, Conquerer of Men, Conquerer of the World. She’s already piecing the building blocks of her empire together, brick by brick.

“I’ve got you, you wicked dragon!” Delilah cries, triumphantly, as Nick pretends to surrender beneath her, “Now, release the princess!”

“Never!” Nick growls, glancing at Thea and giving his signature wink. A ribbon of blood trickles over his Adam’s apple. Thea frowns.

That’s not right...

Nicholas pounces on his father, “Delilah, go get the princess! I’ll hold the dragon down!”

Delilah nods dutifully and sprints past her father, running toward ‘Princess Logan’. He’s still too young to understand what’s going on, but he seems to be enjoying himself, fascinated with a butterfly perched on a large dandelion. Little Logan, the softest of his siblings, gentle and considerate and generous with his love. The world outside can be so poisonous, but Thea believes her little Logan will be the antidote that will cure everything he touches.

Thea sighs, closes her eyes, soaking in the moment. The summer breeze, honeyed and warm, caresses her cheeks and carries the sound of laughter and joy and...a baby’s cry?

Her mind is playing tricks on her, she reasons. There’s no baby here, not anymore.

Thea sighs, listening to Nicholas’ laugh. She’ll never share these moments with anyone, not even if they paid her to. These are just for Thea, a private viewing only she and her family can indulge in. She wants this to last forever, to freeze it in time.

“Funny how time can play games with us.”

Thea freezes.

No, no, no, no, no.

She doesn’t want to open her eyes, afraid of what she’ll see. But she knows she has to, she must, because he’s here, the ghost from her past, playing tricks with her mind. The baby’s cry becomes louder, more insistent. She pushes it to the back of her mind.

No, no, no.

Thea opens her eyes.

Paris lies on his side beside her, as handsome as a daydream, playing with something in his hand. He looks exactly as he did in school, like time hasn’t touched him at all.

Thea’s family hasn’t seen him yet. She should tell them to run, to escape into the woods surrounding the grounds while they have a chance, but she knows they won’t get far.

“Why are you still here?” Thea snarls, glaring at him, “I’ve told you to go.”

“I can’t,” he says, sitting up and leaning into her, “As long as I’m still in here, I’ll never go.”

Paris places a hand on her heart, feeling the way it pounds for him as he trails kisses along her shoulder, up her neck. Thea hates the way her spine melts like a stick of butter beneath his touch.

“A beautiful memory, by the way,” he whispers into her ear, “I wonder if they know the truth?”

Thea’s eyes widen as his teeth tug on her ear.

“No one can know,” she snaps, gripping the hem of her dress, “No one.”

“Of course,” He murmurs, voice hot and silky against her ear, “It’ll be our little secret, my sweet Queen.”

Paris breathes in the scent of her hair, hand trailing up her shoulder and gently wrapping around the elegant curve of her neck.

“I bet Dear Nick never does anything like this,” he growls, giving her neck a squeeze, “He doesn’t fuck you the way I did.”

“Nick has given me a life,” Thea breathes, voice trembling on her lips, “He’s given me a home and children to fill it. All you gave me was bruises and regrets.”

He hums, “But you loved it, didn’t you? You loved being my queen.”

Paris’ other hand runs up her leg, fingers dancing across her thigh, dipping into her panties. Thea gasps, pleasure and guilt mingling like firewhiskey in thick, hot blood.

“Maybe,” She breathes, her grip on her dress tightening until her knuckles go white, “But I hate what you did to me.”

Paris laughs, a low rumble in his chest as he worships her body, “You know that’s not true. Just like you know that you killed them.”

Thea’s breath catches in her throat, heart freezing, blood crystallising. The baby’s cries turn to screams.

“Wh-What do you mean?”

He chuckles darkly, his fingers spiraling as his other hand moves up her swan-like neck, “You haven’t taken your eyes off me, my Queen. So how do you know where your family is?”

Thea’s eyes widen as he grips her jaw and crashes his lips onto hers, forcing her into a searing kiss. Memories flood her consciousness, memories of their time in Hogwarts, where they had ruled as King and Queen of their own little Underworld. Thea whimpers, struggling to break away, to find her family and protect them, but Hades’ hold on her is too strong, and when she finally wrenches herself free, he’s gone, as suddenly as he appeared. Instead, she finds herself standing in her husband’s study, completely alone.

Thea’s eyes well with tears as she realises where she is in time, the part of the story that everyone knows. Heart hammering, she slowly turns around, cold blood pulsing through her veins and a distant, menacing sense of dread crawling up her spine.

In front of her, the body of her eldest son, Nicholas, lies dauntingly still, too cold and too stiff for an eleven-year-old, skin and flesh torn to shreds, exposing quivering nerves and cracked bones. Blood pools beneath him, she can almost hear it screaming for her.

The muscles in Thea’s legs feel like lead as she runs toward him, dropping by his side, feeling the way his blood soaks into her sundress and stains her forever. Thea begins to sob, clutching her sons lifeless body, cradling her little boy in her arms. She can taste his blood on her tongue, smell the strong, metallic tang and feel the way it curdles in her hands, sticking to her hair.

“Look what you’ve done,” croaks her husband, gravelly and strained, like he’d forced the words out with great difficulty.

Slowly, Thea pulls herself away from her son and turns toward her husband, who looms over her. The trickle of blood that she’d seen earlier in her daydream is now a torrent of red, streaming down the front of his shirt from where he’d sliced his own throat open. Nick nods at his son, and Thea turns back Nicholas’s mauled body, so small in her arms.

What she sees stills her pounding heart, raises the hair on the back of her neck.

Instead of seeing Nicholas, Thea see’s her granddaughter, motionless, split open and bleeding liquid life into her arms.

And Thea-

Thea screams.

Thea screams until she breaks through the clouds of her nightmare and she’s sitting upright in her bed, throat corse and lungs aching. She doesn’t see the shadowed figure slip away into the night, or feel the ghostly whisper of warmth lingering on the sheets beside her. All Thea can feel is cold dread, like a winter she’s never known, and amongst the chaos that rains down around her, Thea can only think of one thing.

“I killed her,” Thea rasps, as her loyal house elves rush into her room “She’s dead. (Y/N) is dead.”

***

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