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#Peacock Alley
silent--era · 1 year
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Mae Murray for Peacock Alley, 1922
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dontbestingybaby · 1 month
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4-page color advertisement spread for Peacock Alley (1922, incomplete) from Moving Picture World, 4 February 1922
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tuesdayscanons · 5 months
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Do you think Arcus is flustered because:
A) he has a crush on Gale
or
B) Arcus is upset that Gale is tagging along because he wanted to be alone with Maud, even if it'd mean leaving Gale completely alone on Christmas
I think you can already guess the answer.
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yumichikah · 8 months
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Yumi would be greeted with something very simple for his birthday this year. How many years is it now? Two? Three? She'd always tried to give him something a little showy. Like vibrant origami flowers, fireworks and an assortment of things that were meant to inspire awe. But this year - She went a little simpler.
He would find a seemingly plain birthday card. The front would have his name written in a practiced cursive. Nothing particularly noteworthy, but it was obvious effort was put into it. Within it, a pressed, origami lily in a shade of purple matching his eyes would occupy one side. Each time he touched it, or if he were close enough to exhale on it, it would gently shift colors to a more vibrant pink, fading back into the same purple it had begun as when left undisturbed. The other would be a note adhered to the side with small patterns around the edges to accentuate its appearance.
Happy Birthday, Yumichika. Another year we haven't killed each other.
If he flips it over to look at the back, an origami violin would be found. Upon touching it, a melody would begin to play. One that has layers. Something one person would have to achieve with modern technology. But this was Jezebel. This was a Fullbringer who used origami. Layering parts to create the whole, and manipulating the sounds of her violin to achieve things that did not belong to string instruments, or were too low for her violin. This was for him. Only him.
Birthday Peacock 2023!
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The card laying on the table in the archives was obviously meant for him to find as no one else was regular enough of a visitor to even notice it on first glance like Yumichika did instantly. The whole situation was a reminder of something that happened last year during his birthday when this whole elaborate show of origamis had been presented to him between the shelves. Was it possible that simple looking card was from the same sender as last year?
Taking steps towards the said card, a folder was quickly placed in it’s slot in the shelf before his full attention was able to be directed to the inconspicuous item. Getting to it, the sharp purple eyes could definitely tell that the cursive didn’t flow enough to be the result of a lifetime practice like what he had observed Kuchiki-taicho’s handwriting to be. It wasn’t ugly or anything, but the lines were heavier than necessary and some edges of those inked lines were a bit shaky. Seeing the effort did make the beauty smile faintly though as he was happy to receive any presents that showed effort. The person writing this must’ve actually thought about him.
Picking up the card, fingertips made contact with the surprise on the back of it, prompting the melody to start sounding. It caught the peacock off-guard and he jumped a little before flipping the thing over and staring at the violin shape with that slowly intensifying, yet beautiful music flowing from between the folds somehow. Without realizing it, Yumichika had went completely still, barely daring to breathe as he took in the notes and the hidden story within them, amazed at how something so powerful sounding was pouring out of something so delicate. This style was something new he had never heard of before and couldn’t help but feel excited about – who could come up with sounds like this? Wasn’t violins traditionally used to portray tenderness and sadness?
As the song came to an end, the stillness of the lone body continued just a moment longer. As if he was expecting for the piece to suddenly pick up again, but it didn’t. Letting out a breath he was holding, the peacock relaxed some and went to open the card. What even could be inside if the backside itself was already such a spectacle? Guess he would find out soon enough as the manicured hands folded the thing open. A flower? And a message, it seemed. Setting the card on the table, the beauty kept his eyes fixed at the flower intently as he traced it’s outlines with his finger. The paper changed color beautifully. He couldn’t help but think about how the woman behind this all surely had a great eye for detail – it seemed as if nothing about the folded papers were simple or plain, which was highly appreciated by someone like him. The thought itself resulted in a honest smile.
Not sure what this whole note would be about, Yumichika noticed that he was readying himself up for yet another surprise before reading the very crude message with a quick happy birthday slapped in front of it. At that point he couldn’t help but laugh to himself; if he hadn’t been sure who had left this surprise for him here before, it was clear as day by the time these words were read. Shaking his head, the birthday boy closed the card and slid it inside his shihakusho to make sure it didn’t get lost or buried during his task of sorting a few papers. This one was one for the keeping for sure.
As the birdy started working, he made a mental note to thank Jezebel the next time they happened to meet. Maybe even buy her lunch or something like a proper friend would do. They were close friends now.... right?
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ggomomomo · 2 years
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Felix and the Cursed Alley
@felixmonth
Felix Week Day 2 (Cookie Version) | Reveal
AO3 | Masterlist
The first time was an unexpected accident. They were fresh out of an intense battle, Félix had just destransformed, and had turned by an alley. His ears picked up a faint sound: “Spots off.” 
But it was too late. 
His foot stepped forward as his eyes widened at a slack-jawed Ladybug in the middle of dropping her transformation. In a split second, he tried to close his eyes to somehow save the situation, but he had seen enough. 
Ladybug was Marinette. 
He felt two hands on his shoulders. “Did you see?” Marinette hissed. 
Félix opened and closed his mouth. Should he say? Or should he not say? If it were him in her shoes, he’d think it would be fair to tell the truth. He stammered out a quick ‘yes’ while opening his eyes. 
“You can’t tell anyone,” she firmly told him. 
He replied with haste. “Of course I won’t.” 
“I’m serious.” 
“I understand the weight of knowing your identity, Marinette. It’s not a secret I will take lightly, especially when this puts a target on my back as well.” 
His mind was still partly reeling at his discovery. On one hand, he felt stupid for not piecing it together earlier, while on the other, he reconciled that fact that it made sense. No one else would be fitting for the Ladybug Miraculous except for Marinette. 
Fear flickered in her eyes. “Target on your back. No, no, no, no, oh no.” 
Félix bit back a curse. He should not have said that. 
“This is bad.” Ramblings spilled out of her mouth as she put her palms up to her cheeks. “This is really, really bad. You can’t know. You’re not supposed to know. Oh my god, should I call Prophet to help me undo this? No, it will probably trigger a catastrophe—” 
“Marinette.” He gently took both her hands in his. “It’s okay. Nothing bad will happen.” 
She bit on her lip. “I put you in danger.” 
“It’s alright as long as Paonne doesn’t know that I know,” Félix reassured, “It’s my fault as well. I heard you detransform but I stepped into the alley.” 
“No, it’s my fault. I should’ve checked first.” 
He rubbed his thumbs over her knuckles. He knew how both Marinette and Ladybug would get anxious about the smallest of things. “Regardless, I’ll keep your secret safe.” 
She heaved in a big breath. “Okay. Okay. I’m sorry again. Thank you, Fé.” 
---
During the second time, Félix began to dread entering narrow, deserted alleys. He was walking to school, determined to avoid paths between buildings, but was forced to take a shortcut when he realized that he was going to be late. His feet stopped and he froze from head to toe when a familiar white portal materialized in the middle of the alley. 
“Whew, that was an intense all nighter. Remind me to never visit 1861 again,” Prophet yawned. “Fluff, counter-clockwise.” 
The dissolution of the transformation was too quick. Félix didn’t have time to close his eyes. Again. Sibyll was handing a piece of carrot to Fluff when they made eye contact. 
“Oh hell no,” she spat out. “Fluff, eat quickly.” 
“Why?” The kwami pouted. 
“We’re going back in time to fix this mess—” Sibyll paused. “Wait.” 
Félix knew her thoughts. If she had traveled back in time to undo the revelation, it wouldn’t have happened at all. Prophet would’ve intercepted him before he could enter the alley. 
“You can trust me,” he found himself saying. 
She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know why this happened but . . . it’s not supposed to.” 
“I know. I wasn’t going to pass through here, but I’ll be late for class.” 
Sibyll’s eyes widened behind her spectacles. “Shit! Class!” 
Without warning, she grabbed her wrist and they started running. The hem of her blouse fluttered as they raced towards the school. He thought about suggesting to use the Rabbit Miraculous, but he knew her answer already. 
She looked back at him. “If you tell anyone—” 
“—I know. I’m not supposed to, and I won’t even think about it—” 
“—You are dead. Like, literally dead—” 
“—considering that I’m alive so far, I’d take it as a good sign.” 
Sibyll scowled. “I mean it, Félix.” 
He matched her stern gaze. “So do I.” 
It wasn’t even the first time he had to keep a big secret. 
---
After the previous incidents, Félix religiously avoided alleys. They became bad omens to him, and he didn’t want to know more than he already did. On the bright side, he had made it a habit to support Marinette and Sibyll in the shadows. He backed up their (poorly-constructed) excuses and helped them slip out of class during akuma attacks (before escaping to transform himself). 
But one fateful day, the alley became inevitable. 
He was caught up in a sentimonster attack. Though he could’ve gotten out on his own, Zyvern had scooped him out of the scene and carried him away. 
The problem was that his choker was beeping. 
They hadn’t touched the ground yet.
“Fuck—” Zyvern said as he destransformed. They both fell a few feet. Félix kept his eyes shut. 
But one glance, one split-second look gave everything away. Right before he closed his eyes, Félix spotted a multicolored beaded bracelet on the hero’s wrist. The same weird accessory he knew his friend regularly wore. 
He uttered the name before he could stop himself. “Zee?” 
“What? Did you—you saw my bracelet, didn’t you?” 
Félix wished that he would deny it. He opened his eyes, confused that Zee was acting coolly about it. “I did. Sorry,” Félix said softly. 
Zee studied him with an uncharacteristic seriousness. Félix fidgeted when his friend spent a full minute looking. “You’re awfully calm about this,” Zee commented. 
“You’re also calm . . .” Then it dawned on Félix. Zee wouldn’t deliberately risk his identity in front of a civilian. The fact that Zyvern detransformed in front of him proved that Zee expected it to happen.
“You did this on purpose.” Félix blinked. 
Zee shrugged. “More like I don’t mind if you know. You’re trustworthy. But you didn’t answer my question.” 
Félix cleared his throat. “Perhaps the shock will kick in later.” 
He knew it wouldn’t. 
Zee took a look at him for a few more seconds. If there was one thing that was constant about Zee, it was his perceptiveness, and Félix didn’t want to deal with any interrogation because of that. 
“Aren’t you going to take care of that?” Félix deadpanned, motioning to the sentimonster rampaging in the sky. 
“Right.” Zee rubbed his head. “Longg, grab your food here.” 
---
After discovering Marinette, Sibyll, and Zee, his thoughts began to wander. It was dangerous to think about it deeply, but he couldn’t shake off his theories. Three of his friends were Miraculous wielders—it couldn’t be a mere coincidence. 
These unwound thoughts were what accidentally led him into another alley. Félix became too absorbed in thinking that he didn’t notice that he had walked into a forbidden place. When he grasped his surroundings again, he heard two voices talking. 
“I don’t know . . . my usual champions are getting tired. I have to consult new ones but I’m scared they won’t agree.” 
“What if you ask the other heroes to find new civilians?” 
“I don’t want to bother them.” 
“What about your friends?” 
“They’ll be in danger.” The voice softened to a mumble. “I don’t think they want to be champions though.” 
“You can try asking! I’m sure they’ll be happy to help out.” 
“What if they figure me out?” 
Félix tried to hide. But Cosette fell silent, and looked towards his direction. She gasped sharply and Nooroo flew back into the pocket of her dress. 
Félix could only rub his face, stunned at his own careless mistake. 
Suddenly, Cosette’s face contorted, and tears started to spill from her eyes. Félix immediately rushed forward to comfort her. “Cos—Cos, wait.” He stroked her head carefully. “I didn’t see anything.” 
The timid girl sniffled. “You did.” 
“I didn’t.” He lied. 
“They’re going to take my Miraculous away,” she cried. 
He shifted from one foot to another, not knowing how to make her feel better. Usually, Zee and Marinette were the masters at calming her down. “They won’t if they don’t know that I know,” he assured. “And I won’t tell.” 
Her teary eyes blinked at him. “You won’t?” 
“I won’t,” he gently said. “I’ll even help you keep your identity secret.” 
As he’d been doing for the rest of his friends. 
Cosette wiped her reddened face. “Promise?” 
“Promise.” 
---
The fifth time was a close call. 
Suspicions had been hounding his mind already. He found an alleyway to recharge in whilst trying to come up with a plan against the tricky sentimonsters. As he leaned against the wall, he caught a flash of gold and white in his periphery, which then radiated into a bright light, to reveal the last one of them: Haru. 
His friend looked like a deer caught in headlights. 
“Haru . . .” Félix started. At that point he had been used to it already. He might as well find out the identity of his last teammate. “Or should I say . . . Aurum?” 
Haru coughed, sneakily trying to slip a piece of fruit to his kwami (but failing miserably). “Who’s Aurum?” 
Félix gave him a look that said ‘really?’ 
“I’m not Aurum,” Haru pitifully denied, even throwing in awkward finger guns. 
Félix nearly felt bad, pondering if he should just play along. 
“There’s no use denying it,” Félix sighed. “Are you alright?” 
“Why wouldn’t I be? I was just escaping from the scene of the attack . . .”
“This place is too far from both your house and the school.” 
“I was just . . . uhh . . . art supplies! Yeah, I’ve been canvassing  oil paint.” 
“You took a pretty bad hit back there.” 
The involuntary wince on Haru’s face told Félix that the suit hadn’t been enough to absorb the pain. Haru dropped his frantic hands and looked down. “Listen . . .” 
“I know what to do,” said Félix as if it was a memorized poem. “I know how important your secret identity is and I will not mindlessly give it away.” 
---
Félix thought everything would be okay. 
He only had to keep six precious secrets. He was good at hiding and pretending that everything was normal, but it turned out that his teammates (and friends) weren’t. 
They perched on a random rooftop one patrol night and no one was talking. Chat Noir knew why. They were too unsettled about their identities being discovered and didn’t know how to break it to the others. It was a mess. 
Crossing his arms, he broke the silence first. “What was that?” 
Prophet snapped out of her reverie. “What was what?” 
“There’s something wrong,” he replied. 
Four heroes looked away guiltily. But Zyvern gave him a steady gaze. “What’s wrong?” 
“What’s wrong?” Chat snorted. “Obviously, everyone seems distracted. Ladybug, you took forever to figure out your Lucky Charm earlier; Prophet, you time traveled four times; you almost lost hold of your champions, Solandis; and your illusion didn’t last five seconds, Aurum.” 
“We’re just a bit out of it today, that’s all.” Ladybug smiled stiffly. “Maybe everyone’s tired?” 
But Chat knew, deep in his mind, that it wasn’t a one-time thing. They would continue to be out of sync, and it was all because of his discovery. 
“Not only today.” He shook his head. “I know what’s bothering you all—” 
Aurum jolted. “How—” 
“And I’m going to settle this. Claws in.” 
As he revealed himself, the others were consumed with shock. Félix massaged the bridge of his nose. “Now will you please talk it out right now.” 
Prophet looked back and forth between him and the others. “Do you mean you also found out . . .?” 
“Yes, everyone’s.” 
“Everyone’s?” Ladybug squeaked. “How did that even happen?” 
His cheeks burned. “It started with the alley . . .” 
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ruthstruths · 1 year
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Peacock balance game
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spidernuggets · 1 month
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hiii first time requesting (if i could claim 🦚 that’d be awesome) from you!!
anyways,
jason fluff inspired by "chemtrails over the country club" by lana del rey
jason’s joker trauma triggers a destructive spiral, leading to a desperate hunt from you (gf or fiancée or gn idc honestly 🤷‍♀️) and the batfam when he goes missing. found right before he could kill the joker the batfam stops him and is freaking out and he drops to his knees and he’s just kinda numb. you’re the only one trying to comfort him and he’s pushing you away but you start reminding him of the life you two want together (queue the lines from chemtrails: “washing my hair, doing the laundry…” etc etc) and he breaks down and starts crying in your arms.
ok yes it’s a bit of a tear jerker but my brain is screaming that this needs to exist so 🥹🥹
anyways tysm for considering and i hope you have an amazing day regardless! don’t forget to eat and drink water 💋
— 🦚??
Jason Todd x Reader
Note: Really? Aren't you peacock-anon who requested feral jason todd? I'm only asking because you asked this around the same time peacock-anon reblogged feral jason todd and said they were the one who requested it. Anyways, whatever, THANKS FOR REQUESTING ME. If you're not peacock-anon, then I'm afraid you can't claim it :(( BUT ANYWAYS i hope you like the fic 🫶🫶
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It was one of those nights. The nights where Jason couldn't stay still in bed, always tossing and turning. He tried, but every time he closed his eyes, he was 15 again. He was back in the dark, abandoned warehouse. He was back in the chair, tied up and unable to move. He was back with the Joker.
Beads of sweat trickled down his forhead. He felt like he was suffocating. He looked over to his side, seeing you peacefully sleeping, snuggled into his chest. God, you were so beautiful. Like a Seraphim that was gifted to him during his loneliest hours when he couldn't find a speck light in his darkness. You were his miracle. His reason for continuing to live.
He's already done too much by letting you stay with him. By letting you love him. By letting himself love you. He felt like he put you in this position; a position where you can't leave, can't be free. You're stuck in a position where you have to stay with him.
Sometimes, you wish he could see the way you see him. A beautiful figure shaped and moulded by the hands of the most exquisite and talented scluptor. A man that could love you like no other has. A man who knows how to treat you well, who knows you can be independent but can stay close to you, at the ready to save you from any danger. He will always be at your beck and call.
He shifts away from you, carefully untagling limbs and sitting up. You stirred in your sleep, hand reaching out to find your boyfriend's warmth. He shushes you, pecking your forhead.
"I'm gonna be on the couch, sweet thing," he said, barely above a whisper. You hum in response, letting your arm fall back onto the bed.
You understood that during some nights, when Jason had bad dreams, he needed to be alone. You tried to help him once, trying to wake him up as his screams were muffled as he slept. His hand accidentally made contact with your face. He didn't realise it, even when he woke up. You tried hiding the bruise with makeup, but to no avail. When he found out what he did, he couldn't talk to you. He wanted to punish himself by not speaking to the love of his life. Even when you tried to tell him it was just an accident or that ot didn't even hurt that much, he couldn't even look you in the eyes.
So soon after he started speaking again, you came to the negotiation that whenever he had night terrors, he would move to the couch. He never wants to hurt you like that again.
But even as Jason laid on the couch that night, staring at the cracked ceiling, his thoughts were running wild. A bunch of drunk men were outside laughing. But he heard the cackles of the Joker. A stray cat knocks over a trash can by the alley of their apartment. But he hears the clink of the crowbar.
His heart races, and his pupils contracted. His breathing is uneven. His mind runs to Bruce. Why didn't he kill the Joker? Why is he still alive? Why is he locked up, only for him to break out again? Where was his justice?
He sits up, looking around the dark room. His eyes move to his hands that were resting on his lap. He promised. He promised not to make any lethal decisions as his role of Red Hood. But the Joker is still out there. He's definitely not in Arkham. Arkham Asylum couldn't keep the Joker in captivity even if it had the best security.
He wanted these dreams to stop. He wanted to stop waking up in the middle of the night, worried that a stupid faced clown was going to break in and hurt you. He wanted to stop waking up in the middle of the night and leave your hold just to sleep on the couch. He wanted to stop waking up in the middle of the night because it was worrying you.
Jason grunts, figuring there was only one way to end this. One way for him to finally feel better and to stay in your arms without hurting you again. Jason stands from the couch, putting his shoes on, and sprinting as fast as he can to his nearest safe house where all his gear is.
You stretch as the morning sun burns your eyes. You look around to see Jason isn't beside you.
"Oh right, he's on the couch," you mutter to yourself. You thought breakfast for him would he nice. A nice wake up to a horrible sleep.
But upon entering the living room, the couch was empty. In fact, there was no 6 foot, 200 pound boyfriend to be seen anywhere. You looked all over the apartment.
That's weird. Jason would've at least left a note or a text. You go back into your room, grab your phone, and scroll to Jason's contact name. But as it rang, you heard another ringtone in the distance.
Your eyebrows scrunch together as you walk out of your room, trying to find where the ringtone was coming from. It led you back to the living room, Jason's phone ringing under a pile of blankets.
You can hear your heartbeat in your head. Jason never left his phone. Starting to panic, you dial Dick's number as he answered within three rings.
"Hey, Y/-"
"Dick! I- Jason's not home! He- he went to sleep on the couch last night - I.. Nightmares! He left his phone.. no note! Gone!" You could hardly form a proper sentence. Your fingers pull against your hair, and you hyperventilate. Dick tries to calm you down.
"Hey, hey. Y/n, don't worry! We'll help you find him, okay? I'll round up the other bats and birds, and we'll look for him. He's going to be okay, okay?" He gently says from the other line.
You take a deep breath. "Yeah.. yeah okay," your voice shakes.
You start your own hunt for him as the Bat Family gear up. The first place you look at is at Jason's closest safe house. Going in, you see that a few pistols are gone from his wall. You run to where he stored his armour, but that's gone, too. You call Dick again.
"Dick! His guns, armour- He's out as Red Hood," you worry more. It's broad daylight, Jason shouldn't be out in his uniform.
Dick says, "Got it," before informing Batman that Jason is out as Red Hood. He then tells you to stay put, and that Oracle will update you when she tracks Jason's location.
You pace around the safe house, anxiously waiting for Oracle's call. You couldn't think of a reason why Jason would be out and why he wouldn't tell you. Jason tells you everything!
Then your phone rings.
It barely rang once before you answered it.
"He's in the warehouse." Is all Oracle said before you booted out the door. You didn't even need the address or specific whereabouts of the warehouse. You knew which one she was talking about. The one Jason died in.
Surprisingly, you showed up at the same time as everyone else.
You all rush inside, checking all the rooms. You were the first one to enter the room. And low and behold, the Joker in the centre, tied up in a chair, just as Jason was a couple of years ago, as Jason stood a couold feet away, a pistol pointed in front of him.
You couldn't tell if everything was sped up or in slow motion. But you screamed Jason's name. It's followed by a loud bang, then a couple of grunts and thuds.
As your vision focuses, there's smoke flowing out of Jason's gun, a hole in the wall where the bullet, and the sounds of the Joker's maniacal laughter as he's been tackled to the floor by Dick and Bruce.
You hear a mutter of 'no's. Your attention turns to Jason. His head is shaking, and his lip is trembling. You notice lis legs wobbling, and you lunge forward to hold him as he falls to his knees.
An echo of choked sobs is heard from Jason as he drops his gun and digs his palm into his eyes while he cries.
"Fuck! Why- Why did you do that?! He- He should be dead!" He tried to yell, but came out as cracked whimpers.
"Sh, sh, I know, sweetie, I know," you whisper to him, running your hands through his hair, just as he loved it.
Jason carries on. "He.. he killed me! He took me away from Bruce... he's gonna take me away from you.."
Your heart shattered. You wish and pray that there was more you could do to help him.
"No, no, no. Don't say that, baby, he's not. You hear me? He's not gonna take you away from me," Jason leaned himself into your comfort further, grounding himself. Reminding himself that you're with him. From the corner of your eye, you see Tim and Steph walking up to the two of you, but you lightly shake your head, a silent plea, asking them to leave you be. Damian walks up behind them, tugging on their capes, respecting your request.
Jason tries to shove you off him. But he's too tired. So he tries ti speak instead.
"Get away," he weakly says. "Get away! I'm - You shouldn't be near me," his voice cracks. "He's gonna come back! He's gonna hurt you! I- I'm gonna hurt you..."
"Hey, Jay," you quietly call out, pulling him closer to you. Jason sniffles against your chest. "Remember that time you got a little drunk? I had to help give you a bath?" Jason doesn't reply. But he remembers. He remembers your delicate fingertips massaging his scalp. It felt nice. He wanted to be in that moment again. "Remember what we talked about? How hopefully Gotham's brutality dies down, and we can run away together? We said we'd own our own house. A small one, like a cottage. You'd be cooking one of Alfred's lovely dishes while I'd hang the laundry out in our garden. We'd have movie nights, eating junk food while crying to the Notebook. And.. You even admitted wanting your own kids. Remember that, Jay?" Your fingers caress his scarred cheek. Your lips hovered over his white streak.
You heard a sound coming from Jason. Like he was trying to speak. "Yeah. Two girls. Two... so neither of them would be lonely..."
You smiled, tears stinging your own eyes. "Yeah.. Jason, nothing bad is going to happen to us. We're going to have the life we want. Nothing is going to stop us. Not even that monster. I won't let it happen. You do such a good job protecting me. But you need to remember that you're safe with me too, okay?" You said to him.
In response, Jason breaks down into more tears once again, clinging on to you tighter. "I love you," he sniffles. "Don't wanna lose you."
By this time, you're now crying yourself. "I love you too, my sweet boy," you kissed his head. "You're never going to lose me. I'm right here." Your hand intertwines with his.
The two of you are wrapped in each other's safety and warmth. Jason is mever going to stop about the horrible possibilities that could occur if you continue to stay with him. He thinks he's selfish for not doing more to let you go. But you're like a magnet. Somehow, through all that loathing he feels for himself, you're always going to find your way through the midst of hatred. You're always going to be there to hold his hand and give him the love that he never believed that he deserves. You're always going to show him that loving him isn't a sin.
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Hopfully, this reached your expectations, anon 🥲🥲 But it was a lot of fun to write!! ALSO sorry if this seems short and rushed, I'm really trying to get everyone's requests out 😭😭
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vanessamooney · 2 months
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The Age of Us pt. 1 - Draco x Reader
Prompt: Glimpses into your lives through the years
Pairing: Draco x Slytherin!Reader
Part 2
Part 3 coming soon!
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In First Year you're a ball of glimmering potential. You're staring wide eyed at the brilliant castle before you from the boat house and on the walk up a little Draco is trailing behind you, holding up your robes to prevent them from dragging in the mud. You don't even notice the sweet gesture as you spend the climb up rambling to him about how excited you are to begin learning about magic, bouncy as ever with a smile wider than he's ever been able to draw out from you. Not even his mother's white peacocks at Malfoy Manor brought out such a smile from you, nor the time years ago when you two rolled down the hill on your family's estate, covered in twigs and wrestling in a pile of dried leaves, giggly as ever.
╺╺╺╺╺╺╺
Draco watches proudly as his girl is sorted into Slytherin house, and he welcomes you with a radiant smirk as you trot over to the house table and seat yourself right next to him. He watches eagerly as Potter and that blasted orange haired Weasley boy are called out next, moping methodically along to the sorting hat, watching them with a glare he reserved for the mud-bloods his father would point out on trips to Diagon Alley. He hopes Potter will be sorted into Slytherin, after all, 'connections are key' Lucius would say and who better a connection than the chosen one?
'Oh Draco,' You tut, 'look at the sky!' you're in awe at the ceiling which you've only just noticed, the enchantments were executed so gracefully if you hadn't of read Hogwarts, A History before the year began you would've had no clue the great hall ever had a roof. 
He looked at you with the same dirty expression sculpted on his face that he had given Potter through the ceremony, stuck like cement, but when he noticed your doughy lips parted in wonder, he reached over and with a nimble finger, he closed your mouth for you, leaving you blushing a tomato red. 
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'Up! Up! Up!' 
You're standing over your broom, watching the other kids stand in organised lines across from you in the fields, succeeding with calling their brooms to them. Draco had succeeded on the first try, of course, and you're embarrassed to be one of the last people whose brooms have still not so much moved from their original position.
He catches your eye and gives you a sympathetic look, crossing his lips into a firm line. The broom in his hand is tossed carelessly to the ground and he makes a leap towards you, his hands reaching to tenderly adjust your arm in another position. 
Draco had received lessons over the Summer and was already worrying his mother as he hastily flew around the Manor windows on the shiny Nimbus Lucius insisted he needed. You watched him on warm Spring afternoons with your feet firmly planted on the ground in the grassy meadows as he perfected his flying, your hands busy with knitting because 'a little girl like yourself needn't fly,' as your mother had so often reminded you when you dared to ask.
'There, try with your hands like that, and say it firmly,' Your best friend instructed you, watching your worried eyes and flushed cheeks.
'I don't know Draco, maybe I just can't fly,' you confess, worried that really was the possibility. 
'Just try,' he furrowed his brows, 'for me?' 
You shakily nod your head, the last one on the field now without a complying broom. The Longbottom boy had now been escorted to the hospital wing by Madam Hooch and you hoped such a thing wouldn't happen to you but Draco seemed to read your mind when he notices your wandering eyes.
'Just look at me, look at my eyes, Y/N,' he began, rubbing your shoulders 'Don't focus on anything else,' 
You gulped, staring into him with an openess you reserved only for him 'Up!' 
The broom snaps into your hand and you squeal in excitement, throwing it away as quickly as it flys to you and embracing Draco in a hug so tight he could barely breathe. 
You don't notice the glares the two of you received from Potter and his gang, but Draco does, giving them an equally dirty look before marching over to the remembrall that had rolled over and snatching it right off the ground.
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 There was a troll on the loose in the castle and you've been escorted back to the Slytherin dorms by the Head boy and girl. Everyone had gone up into their respective dormitories in fear of being taken by the ghastly monster but you had tugged on Draco's sleeves with puppy dog eyes and begged him to stay in the common room and play a game of friendly wizard's chess with you.
He sighs and rolls his blue eyes to the back of his skull but reluctantly agrees and you sit warm by the fire on a bear hide rug. The chess board is nestled between the two of you and Draco instinctively goes to grab the white King but you start to sulk.
'Oh Draco, please, can I be white this time?' you beg, looking up at him with the biggest and glassiest eyes you could possibly muster. How could he say no? 
'Ugh, you just want to be white because you want to use the Wayward Queen opening, you always use that one,' he retaliates, pressing the white King into your little hands.
'Do not!'
'Do too!'
'Do not!'
'Do too!'
You blow him a raspberry and make your first move. Pawn to E4. 
'Ah hah!' He exclaims, pointing an accusing finger at you with a light scowl brushed on his features, tussling his air with his other hand in frustration. 'You're doing it! You're doing the same opening!' 
You give him a ghastly stare and with a swing of your arm you knock over all of the chess pieces, huffing and puffing as they spread fallen all over the board.
'Fine! Stay down here and get eaten by the troll then!' You hiss at him, and run up to your dorm room to scream into your pillow.
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You're sitting in the first potions class of the year, listening to Professor Snape lecture Harry about not listening after watching him methodically take notes on the Professor's wise words from a couple rows away. You weren't able to get a seat next to Draco at the front of the class and you silently thanked this luck, having boasted about how much you've studied all Summer in preparations for potions and knowing Draco had not read even a single passage. 
You sat next to a bushy haired Gryffindor girl called Lavender who weary looked in a mirror and you smirked as you watched Draco's ivory head listening to Snape assign the first task ever: brewing a common poison antidote. When Snape announces the winning pair will receive 5 points each to their respective houses your eyes twinkle with anticipation.
You leave your partner behind to gather the ingredients for the potion: Bezoar, mistletoe berries and a unicorn horn. You bump into Draco in front of the ingredient cupboard, and beam at him proudly. 
'I read about this potion in the potions book,' you smile sweetly up at him, purposefully brushing against him as you shove to grab the vials. 'It should be a piece of pie,' you laugh accusingly, standing as tall as your short legs allow you to. 
'Good luck,' Draco laughs vacantly, handing you a unicorn horn from the top shelf you couldn't reach. His fingers brush against yours and you scoff, heading back to your cauldron.
Lavender is sat twirling the knife on its tip on the chopping board as if she'd never seen the utensil before and in the time you were gone had managed to spill water just about everywhere, wetting your parchment and bleeding the ink of the potion recipe.
'My goodness,' You exclaim, rushing to take away the knife and wipe up the water, 'have you two left hands?' 
You watch the potion brew and bubble as it cooks, anxiously tracking the time with an hourglass. When the final grains of sands trickle through the narrowed passage, you hastily reach for the unicorn horn you powdered earlier and your heart sinks when you see your partner already poised over the cauldron, a pinch of the precious powder between her fingertips. She carefully sprinkles it into the cauldron and you watch in horror as a noxious cloud of black smoke billows forth and envelops you both in char.
'How many pinches did you put in?' You scream, wiping the soot from your eyes. 
'Two,' Lavender whimpers, eyes stinging from the cloud. 
'It was meant to be ONE!' 
Everyone in the class is now giggling at your misfortunes and Professor Snape has now come over to see what all the commotion is about. 
'You two better clean that up right now,' Snape chastised in his nasally voice, condemning you to blush in shame beneath the soot on your cheeks.
As Snape made his rounds, meticulously examining the colors of each potion, his scrutiny lingered noticeably longer on Draco's cauldron. The pungent aroma that emanated from Draco's concoction filled the classroom, matching the textbook's description exactly, causing you to wince involuntarily.
'Malfoy, Zabini, 10 points to Slytherin,' Snape announces. 
Draco's triumphant gaze locks onto you as he revels in his perceived victory in the silent competition between the two of you. With a mocking laugh, he directs his attention to your soot-streaked face, his expression one of haughty satisfaction as he proudly asserts his well-deserved win with a piercing stare.
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Eyes drifting over to Pansy Parkinson you can't help but notice she is staring at your best friend, and you don't like it. You're in Charms class with Professor Flitwick and you're sitting a few seats down from Draco who is stuffed in-between his minions and looking increasingly annoyed from the class introduction Flitwick is moping on about. Pansy has painted on herself an innocent expression she only wore around Draco and you wished you could shake her until the ribbons came undone and her mask fell off.
Despite her Pureblooded nature and family status, you couldn't rid the feeling of unease whenever she was around and sharing a dorm with her turned to be nothing short of a Lovecratian nightmare. There was something about her that set your teeth on edge. You wanted to pry off her veil and examine her flaws beneath a microsope; you wanted to disect her and unravel the intricacies that made you burn with an inextinguishable fire.
You gaped at her when she cheered on Draco who had quickly succeeded in levitating his feather, leaning over the desk so far you thought she would topple right over and end head first in the middle of the classroom, bouncing on her horribly cut bob upside down and out of the classroom window and into the grounds. You imagined it so vividly you started to chuckle to yourself and didn't even realise Draco had been beckoning you with the usual smirk you loved across the desk. 
Pansy looked at him eagerly, daydreaming about her name dancing on Draco's tongue rather than yours and she blushed a million shades of red when she realised she was drooling slightly from the corner of her mouth. You shot her a look of disdain, features twisting haughty from her sopping desperation. She knew that you had won - as did you -knowing it was your name on his lips, not hers. 
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'Potter,' You're seething through your teeth, acknowledging his dreadful existence as you and Draco pass him on the way to the Quidditch fields. You're dressed head to toe in green, showing support for your house. Draco's Slytherin scarf is wrapped securely around your neck, flowing behind you in the wind and you delight in his scent. You can't help but watch Harry in pure disgust, not because you hate him by proxy, but because Draco should be seeker, not him and it wasn't fair.
'Rosier,' He starts back, his eyes narrowing to a squint at the two of you for an instant before he hurries back to the safety of the rest of the Gryffindor team. Malfoy smirks at you proudly, leading you to the Slytherin seating area with a gentle hand on the small of your back, luxuriating in seeing his scarf around your neck.
And when all of Hogwarts watches Harry reveal he has caught the golden snitch, you feel nauseous and you can only think back to all of the nights you spent comforting Draco when he found out Harry had made the team. You scowl, your fingers sliding down to find Draco's beneath the bench and you squeeze them hard. It should've been him.
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You wake up in a panicked sweat, the hair on your face sticking on your damp skin. You feel tears sliding down your plump cheeks and you reach up to wipe them away but they won't stop. Nightmares invaded your dreams, mercilessly rocking you awake in a sea of no hope. When you look around your sleeping quarters, you see strange figures in the form of your wardrobe, capes draped across armchairs and coat stands twice your height. Your dormmates are sleeping peacefully In their own beds, their light puffs of air comforting you - but it wasn't enough. You needed Draco. 
Gulping, you manage to place your wobbly feet on the floorboards and wrap a Slytherin blanket around your tiny figure, tip-toeing out of the room without causing anyone else to lose sleep. You left the girls a silent prayer for their safety and you snuck down the stairs.
The common room was now empty in the middle of the night, the hot fire still roaring its song to warm the unforgiving dungeons the Slytherin house called home but you couldn't shake the uneasy feeling of being watched by prying eyes and you squeaked with the floorboards, rushing up the stairs opposite and straight to Draco's dorm. 
You padded on the door softly with care to not wake the wrong occupant. You whispered his name more times than you could count, counting instead the hot tears that flew to the ground from your leaky eyes. When the door opens revealing a half-asleep Draco he knows right away to open his arms and hold you tight, and that is exactly what he did. That night he inhales your sweet scent and whispers sweet nothings into your ear, lulling the bad dreams away.
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Snow topples from the sky and for the first time in your life you're happy about it. Christmas break came and went all too soon and now in front of you lies the vast whiteness of Winter. She covers Hogwarts in a thick blanket and you sink in it's softness, snow filling your boots and socks. 
'Ah!', you jump around from the chill, pausing Draco is his steps as he's foraging for a stick to finish the snowman the two of you had spent all afternoon building. He lets out a hearty chuckle directed at you when you point to your boots, mouthing 'wet' and pouting with your pillowy lips. 
He is stifling a laugh as he goes back to searching for the perfect twig and you don't feel content at this reaction. Without a single further thought, your gloves pawed into the sheath around you and formed a perfectly round globe of snow. You eyed your target meticulously, catching the eyes of Blaise and Pansy in the process and before Pansy could warn her precious Draco, you've already belted the snowball at him and watched as it exploded into dust on his back. 
Draco whips back to see you howling in laughter, bracing yourself with your hands clutching your thighs, the pom of your beanie shaking erratically. He frowns, glancing over to his friends who shrug their shoulders at him, and while Blaise sends a cheeky smile, Pansy is mouthing your name and pointing to you crudely.
'Hey!' he yells, abandoning the stick he spent oh so long looking for and creating his own balls of destruction. He was going to make you regret this.
That afternoon you all walked back to the castle covered in snow and ice, hair wet and lips pink but you silently wished the day would have never ended and you replayed it over and over in your head that night, cackling silently when the image of Draco's scowl turned into a mischievous grin and it all lingered in your mind.
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marice23top · 11 months
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CHAPTER 1- Prowler Miles X Deadpool(fem) Reader
   Taglist: @bath1lda​  @niktwazny303​ @sorryi-mtrash​
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“ So we meet again!” Said a dark and mysterious voice “oh my, please stay away! “ yelled the poor girl. “NEVER YOUR MINEE!!” he yelled Slashing her in the stomach before laughing crazily.
“BAHAHAHAHA!!!!” “Y/N!” ‘oops, remember to keep quiet or you're in trouble but know  that old man needs me’ thought the girl who is seen to be  laying in her bed before she gets up to respond to the call.
“Coming father” she says up the stairs in a meek tone different from the tone she used to read her book or to even talk to herself. “Hurry, I have a mission for you”He responds to her in an authoritative tone. She makes it up the stairs and into a living area different from the one her room is in. This is where her mother and older brother live while she sleeps in the laboratory.
Coming into the living area to see her Father sitting on the couch, that was across from  the family picture. ‘Well their family picture, as she has been in any of these pictures’. “Yes father, I heard you say you have a mission for me” She tells him looking to the ground as if looking at her father would kill her if she dared.
“Yes I have a mission for you, and that little assassin I hired is coming with you” He tells her, still looking at her as if he dared her to defy his orders. “Yes sir, I understand, I'll get ready and leave as soon as possible.”
“Don't worry about getting ready its a stealth mission and you need to look normally, your weapons are in a bag by the bike in the garage, Get them, meet at the street linked on the bike, and wait till the event starts and the assassin gets there,” “ yes father” “Good now get out” “yes father.” The young girl says bowing then walking back down to the garage to her bike and seeing the bag.
‘Awe great this is going to be a boring mission’ she thought, getting on the bike ready to drive away. But then she remembers something that makes her smile like the moon has eyes `My coffee bean is going to be there and I don't have to come back here after the mission, so I can spend the rest of the night with him, YEEEAAAHHH!!” she screams riding on her bike down the street.
‘Tonight is going to be a great night’ she thought.
                                         TIME SKIP TO THE EVENT
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“Copy that uncle Aaron” the boy says to his communicator, “yea, ad boss man says  your girl is going to be there too, make sure you watch after her man” his uncle tells him. His uncle knows one thing that when they're both together that girl would never get hurt, even if she can heal.
“Yea I see her i'll tell you how we do '' He tells his uncle completely ignoring what his uncle said about calling her his girl. "All right and remember to knock out or kill anyone in the way of killing that little traitor, understood” “yeah understood” as the boy says these words and cuts off the communicator with his uncle he goes to the edge of the roof he’s on and jumps sliding down the walls using his claws, and drops  into an alley.
“MILLLEESSS!!” He hears behind him, he sighs before opening his arms as if he was waiting for something. And soon that something jumps and appears in his arms hugging him with a death grip and legs wrapped around him. “I’ve missed you” she says to him looking down to his peacock eyes, while rubbing his braids.
“Yea me too princesa hermosa, also we saw each other yesterday, we had a mission” he tells before putting her down on the ground and looking at her outfit. “Te ves tan hermosa” “what's that mean” he chuckles at her  and remembers she sometimes forgets that she is fluent in 7 languages. “You know” he says but then he sees their target and his whole mood changes. A few seconds ago they were laughing then he gets all dark and mysterious when people are around or if they're handling a mission and right now it's the latter.
 “You ready” he tells her, getting his claw ready while she takes her guns out the bag she brought, “as ready as ever sweet lips” “stop” “OK, right mission time first.”
“Ohh this is going to be fun” she says smirking, looking down at all the men who seemed to be in their way, then seeing the target. Her eyes look at them darkly with her smirk becoming dangerous.
She kisses her guns, “Real Fun.”
Princesa Hermosa—-> Beautiful Princess
Te Ves Tan Hermosa—--> You Look So Beautiful
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the1920sinpictures · 3 months
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1922 Mae Murray in "Peacock Alley". From Jeffrey Allan, FB.
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frogchiro · 2 years
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I NEED MORE STRAY CHILDE AND CAT READER
YOU ASK AND I SHALL DELIVER (also i'm turning this into a possible lil threesome bc i need and i have 0 selfcontrol ;;)
fem!reader, hybrids, suggestive content, love triangle, age gap but reader is explicitly stated to be an adult, implied chubby reader, jealousy and feels, a tiny bit of angst?? but it's woven in between fluff so it's okay </3 also my terrible grammar
okay soooo...i was thinking about a kinda 'lady and the tramp' scenario but with a little twist? where you, the prized kitty girl, belong to an incredibly wealthy snezhnayan noblewoman. she is already on the older side, she never married or had kids and while living a lavish life full of extravagant banquets, travels across teyvat, meeting the most interesting people, sometimes it does get lonely in a big mansion you know? sure there are the servants and many other people who'd be more than willing to converse with her but a jumpy mousy handmaiden or some boring sycophantic dignitary or two can only do so much to be considered 'good' company.
after much thinking and careful consideration, the woman decided on buying a cat hybrid. the hybrid breeding business was booming all over teyvat, it basically became a staple for the wealthy to buy hybrids, dress them up like the most beautiful porcelain dolls and flaunting them on various official occasions like banquets or balls.
there was a large variety of well bred hybrids, all from most perfect and long lineages that would put the family histories of most noble houses to shame. from bunnies through sables, foxes, peacocks up to horse hybrids but it still wasn't perfect, all of them were boring; well, until she met you. a catgirl with fluffy shiny (h/c) fur combed and groomed to perfection, pointy ears standing high and proud and a lovely fluffy tail swishing as if annoyed by the disturbance behind you. from the second she saw you, she knew that you were the one that would keep her company. you were a cute young thing, just over 16 years old and the perfect combination of politeness, shyness and sassyness, not overly clingy and desperate to be bought but also not rude or hissy. yes, you'd be perfect.
and so began your new life with your new owner in a completely new environment. sure, you'd miss the facility where you grew up in but you were also excited what your future would hold for you and judging by the lady who bought you, you'd never have to worry about anything anymore.
a few years passed in bliss. you were now just over 20 and you really grew into your new life. ever since the nice lady brought you into your new home or rather a small palace, you lived a life of luxury as the favorite (and only!) pet of her ladyship. you had your own room, own bed stuffed to the brim with pillows and topped off with a silky see-through canopy, all designed in a lovely and tasteful (f/c) palette. you even had a personal chef and groomer! after all the favorite kitty of the household had to eat the best food and have her fur shiny and not a single tangle in sight; yes, life was calm and perfect for you.
well...at least until someone barged in at full speed. it was a ginger stray cat hybrid who called himself childe, ajax for friends which he insisted on becoming with you. stray hybrids weren't a rare sight to be honest, especially in a big metropolis like the capital city of snezhnaya, but they usually kept to the more shady parts of the town, scavenging the dark alleys and slums for scraps so it was quite a fright when suddenly a big, rough looking stray jumped over the fence and right next to the spot where you were sunning!
after hissing and yowling up a storm you realized that childe had no real ill intentions but you were still miffed about the situation, why was he here? how the hell did he even get here?
after a sheepish explanation from the scarred hybrid that he was just scavenging the area for food and he got wind of a new smell he just couldn't resist and had to check out the source! he really didn't expect for you to be the source and before he could retreat he slipped and fell into your garden and here he was...ta-daaa!
you didn't really buy it, the ginger cat literally spelled trouble by just looking at him but you kinda felt a little pity on him; he was a stray for gods know how long and while he was well build and very big, judging by the growl in his belly he didn't eat for a very long time.
just because you were a 'high-born' and belonging into a aristocratic family didn't mean you were cruel or heartless so you told the man to wait here for you as you sneaked into the kitchens and loaded a cloth full of different kinds of meats, cheeses and fruit and brought them back to him to eat. your heart squeezed painfully at the wide eyes of the stray as you gave him the wrapped cloth and wished him well, telling him not the eat trash anymore and if he were hungry then to just come here and you'll give him food.
and so started the quite unlikely friendship between you and the big stray, ajax, and you had to admit that the once seemingly meek and sheepish cat was actually the biggest troublemaker you ever saw! as your friendship progressed his true colors shone through and gave him an entirely new but lovable personality. ajax was funny, smart, cunning and a major flirt, often teasing you and making moves on you, then laughing boisterously when you flushed and hissed at him with your ears pulled flat against your head.
he even showed you his den! after weeks of convincing you to give into his pleas of sneaking out for the night because 'he wanted to show you something' you finally gave into his pleads and went with him, anxious to be away from your safe mansion but also excited for the new possible adventure.
what ajax hyped up to be his 'incredibly cool and super comfy den' was actually an old abandoned barn on the outskirts of the town. you weren't really impressed and by the look of your sour expression childe sweated a little but pulled you after him while promising that it looks much better on the inside...it really didn't but at least the attic of the barn was kept well enough and judging by the neat circle of old blankets, furs and pillows this was where the hybrid made his den and to be honest....it really was comfy.
you began to sneak out almost every night to meet childe at his barn, at least it gave you the privacy and you didn't have to worry about any patrolling guards or stray servants busting your secret friend.
soon the old barn became your second home and the circle of old raggedy blankets and pillows your new bed. it was quite liberating in some way to roll around in the nest with ajax, the catboy nothing but accommodating and happy to have you here with him. he loved to see you smile and purr up a storm when your were rolling around and nuzzling the blankets simultaneously leaving your delicious scent all over his place which often led to...some unsavory activities after you left.
but could you really blame him?! how can he not rub his cock and cum all over himself when he has the image of your perfect soft body burned into his brain and various sinful thoughts are occupying his mind the second he gets a whiff of your scent.
it will always be a secret but his favorite fantasy is of you abandoning your life at the mansion and have you run away with him. the thought of having you here with him at all times, hunting and providing for you, returning after each successful hunt to you as you smile and lick his cheek, the tiny mewls of your kitties the only noise in the otherwise silent barn besides the cracking fire in the rundown hearth and your loud purrs.
but this is all it will ever be, a fantasy. he couldn't possibly ever ask you of such a thing, such a sacrifice to satisfy his selfish desires especially after all the things you did for him. he knew painfully well that you are way out of his league, basically a princess to his tramp self; but that didn't mean he still couldn't cherish you and every moment he shared with you! yes, he was content with what he had. everything was perfect....until it wasn't.
while your lady didn't exactly know the details of where her prized catgirl went off to, she had the vague idea that you were...disappearing for the nights and coming back ruffled and dirty like some common stray and it got her thinking...what if you were lonely? what if you were just seeking out the presence of another hybrid? it wouldn't surprise her really, after all she was the one to buy you in the first place to quell her own loneliness so how could she be so selfish and possibly neglect the feelings of her favorite girl! and she knew just the perfect resolution for the issue...
imagine your surprise when one beautiful winter morning when you came down into the salon stretching and yawning to check out the noises that seemed to go on since the early hours only to notice your lady sitting on the recliner with a...hybrid standing right next to her.
you wouldn't lie when you said that you almost turned on your heel and made a beeline back to your room and hide under the various blankets of your nest. this hybrid...this...monster wasn't something you ever saw, even in childe.
the cat hybrid appeared to be older, much older than you with long flowing and well kept white hair topped with two pointy white ears and a neat beard. the man was tall, so very tall, and broad; his thick chest and arms partially covered by the fur coat he was wearing, but the most prominent feature of his were his piercing gray eyes. the slitted pupils looking almost like tiny diamonds inside his eyes when his stone cold gaze zeroed on your figure and you suddenly felt so tiny and exposed in your nightgown and see-through robe; your tail swishing anxiously behind you as the man glowered down on you.
finally after what felt like an eternity, your lady noticed you and beamed, jumping up from her seat and inviting you over to introduce the mysterious man.
his name was apparently pierro and he was the new cat hybrid your lady bought in order for you to no longer be lonely, plus judging by his sheer size he could also be your protector.
while your lady was happily rambling and telling you all about the process and all the benefits of pierro being here all you could do was stay quiet, ears pinned flat to your head as you and the big man had a staredown with you quickly loosing. you just didn't understand it! it was all a big misunderstanding! you weren't 'lonely' at all but on the other hand you guessed you got a little careless and sloppy about sneaking out to meet with childe. getting a bit too comfortable was a big mistake and you could understand it coming off as 'feeling lonely' to your lady, she probably was thinking that you were sneaking out to search for other cat people and now you were stuck with the older hybrid. maybe it wouldn't be so bad? after all, pierro looks like he's an older hybrid even for your extended lifespans, plus he doesn't really look like the type to chase you around and play or bother you, if anything he was looking at you like you're the one to bother him in your own damn house! ultimately there was nothing you could do anymore, pierro was here already and it looked like he was staying so you guessed you just had to suck it up for a bit and hold off on meeting with childe for the time being.
and so pierro stayed in the mansion for good. a few weeks passed already and honestly? it was better than you expected! just like you previously presumed pierro didn't bother you or even try to interact with you, most times keeping just to himself doing gods know what and yet you felt his constant presence, like a phantom lingering around you and keeping a keen eye on you.
even with this strange feeling you came around, breaking the invisible wall and actually trying to get pierro to at least like you a little bit which, to your great surprise, wasn't difficult at all.
the big cat hybrid was actually very pleasant to be around; he was mostly either reading something or lounging around on a recliner or next to one of the enormous fireplaces in the mansion and it provided a perfect opportunity to get to know each other. he had a very deep, rough and rumbling voice that send pleasant shivers down your spine any time you heard it, plus he seemed to naturally run hot so lounging next to him in front of the fire during a cold winter night proved to be a wonderful experience, his deep rumbling purrs vibrating and lulling you to sleep.
he even started to slowly allow himself to become more 'touchy' with you! at first it were just short and stiff nuzzles, just to acknowledge your existence, then it slowly evolved into more lingering touches, insistently rubbing his head against yours, grooming your fur with his tongue, wrapping his tail around yours and even full on spooning you when lounging on a fur rug. the ultimate sign of trust was when one night pierro invited you to his chamber to climb into his nest to cuddle and bond and you won't lie when you say you felt a hot tingle in your lower belly when you climbed into the enormous wonderfully soft nest that was drenched in his scent and you felt the man slowly rub his cheek upwards from the base of your tail to your shoulders and bit down softly, his huge fangs oh so gently clamping down on the back of your neck as he slowly pulled your back snugly to his broad hairy chest and laid down with you, his teeth still holding you.
the gesture was an incredibly intimate one, reserved only for mates but it made you feel all giddy and tingly inside, quiet purrs from deep within your chest mixing with pierro's rumbles and combined with the cracking fire from the heart it made for a wonderfully cozy and intimate soundscape.
you let pierro take care of you, his teeth finally letting loose of your neck to gently lick it with his rough tongue and growling lowly when he felt your hips shift under his, pulling you even closer and crushing you against his chest. his darling little kitten seemed to finally be relaxed in his presence, something he longed for from the very beginning when his new owner introduced you to each other. you finally stopped to sneak out so much the more open you became with each other and you no longer smelt like that wretched stray, childe.
pierro growled under his breath at even the thought of that tramp getting close to you and thinking he'd have any chance with you while you had him. instead he continued to lick you, down from your neck and towards your delicious full breasts feeling particulary naughty and sneaking a quick suck or two to your nipples, an answering delighted mewl from you all he needed to know.
now that the stray was out of the picture he had you all to himself and soon he'd mate you. while her ladyship was sometimes annoying him he had to begrudgingly thank her for bringing you two together although perhaps not in the way she thought. maybe you will present her with a nice healthy litter of well bred kittens next year with him as the proud father? who knows; for now though he had a needy kitty to take care of and the night was just starting~
unbeknownst to either of you, a pair of deep blue eyes was glaring at you from the balcony of the room. childe was furious, basically fuming from the inside but not at you, no, never at you, but at pierro for even thinking of trying to take you from him and at himself for allowing this to happen.
a few weeks back when pierro was just brought into the mansion you did warn childe that you'll be unable to sneak out as often as previously due to your lady bringing another hybrid into the household and to avoid suspicion you had to drastically cut down on your time together. at first he thought it wouldn't really bother him, he was a stray and used to being alone, but after so many weeks of having you so close, keeping him company and just simply being there for him made him feel dangerously attached to you and the knowledge that you had to stay away from him for an indefinite amount of time made him feel miserable and to add salt to the wound you now shared a space with another hybrid, pierro, out of everyone.
he vaguely knew the hybrid before; tall and broad in statue, stone cold exterior, a permanent scowl on his face that never seemed to wither. according to rumors the old hybrid had a lineage that reached as far as back to the ancient khaen'rhian people, due to that (and from what childe was aware) pierro couldn't be technically owned by someone, he was always just...there. so it had him baffled when he saw the man strolling through the gardens, his piercing diamond pupils turning into slits when they zeroed on him and made a face that could be only described as 'disgusted pity'. childe then pulled his ears back, the fur on his back standing on ends and was ready to pounce on him but retreated last second when he saw your soft body coming up from behind pierro and rubbing affectionately up against him. the ginger hybrid would lie when he said that his jaw almost hit the floor when he witnessed the scene and his blood boiled at the disgustingly smug look on pierro's face when he wrapped his long fluffy tail around you and returned your gesture before turning you around and walking away from him place of hiding like he was some afterthought you shouldn't be bothered with.
seeing you with the big hybrid, pierro, was like putting salt in the wound that he created for himself. why couldn't he confessed to you earlier? was he really such a coward that he couldn't even express his love for the girl of his dreams? and now he had to watch you being all lovely and cozy with the big male while he was left standing high and dry, plus he just knew that the white haired hybrid would rub his triumph all over his face the next chance he got.
'but just you wait', childe thought with a bitter scowl. it was just the beginning as sooner the abyss would freeze over than childe would admit defeat. you'd become his mate and he'd win your heart.
just you wait
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shoshiwrites · 6 months
Text
Band of Brothers Ages: IRL vs. Actors
Did you know that according to a 1947 study, almost half the men who served in WWII were still under age 26 by the end of the war?
What this is : A (very long) post comparing the ages of the actors in Band of Brothers vs. the IRL figures they are portraying.
Background: Did I need to do this? No. Did anyone ask for this? Also no. Did I do it anyway? Yes.
Disclaimers: This is SUPER approximate for the most part. I based IRL ages off of D-Day unless otherwise noted, and actor ages off of January 1, 2000, the year filming took place (the latter is where the most variation will be because I didn't try to figure out what month filming started). I also didn't fact-check birthdays beyond googling. Most are sourced from the Band of Brothers and Military Wikis on fandom.com, Wikipedia, and IMDb.
I broke them up into rough categories, which are, again, approximate. I know I often forget how young the real life people were here, and this was a good reminder of that. I also found it interesting to see which actors were actually younger than their roles!
Check it all out under the cut ⬇️
~10+ years older
Dale Dye (55) as Col. Robert F. Sink (39) (~16 years)
Michael Cudlitz (35) as Denver "Bull" Randleman (23) (~12)
Marc Warren (32) as Albert Blithe (20) (~12)
Rocky Marshall (33) as Earl J. McClung (21) (~12)
Frank John Hughes (32) as William J. Guarnere (21) (~11)
Neal McDonough (33) as Lynn D. (Buck) Compton (22) (~11)
Dexter Fletcher (33) as John W. Martin (22) (~11)
~5+ years older
Simon Schatzberger (32) as Joseph A. Lesniewski (23) (~9)
Richard Speight Jr. (30) Warren H. (Skip) Muck (22) (~8)
Jason O'Mara (30) as Thomas Meehan (22) (~8)
Ron Livingston (32) as Lewis Nixon (25) (~7)
Donnie Wahlberg (30) as C. Carwood Lipton (24) (~6)
Matthew Settle (30) as Ronald C. Speirs (24) (~6)
Nolan Hemmings (28) as Charles E. "Chuck" Grant (22) (~6)
Douglas Spain (25) as Antonio C. Garcia (19) (~6)
George Calil (26) as James H. "Mo" Alley Jr. (21) (~5)
Rick Gomez (27) as George Luz (22) (~5 year)
Scott Grimes (28) as Donald G. Malarkey (23) (~5)
Stephen Graham (26) as Myron "Mike" Ranney (21) (~5)
~less than 5 years older
Shane Taylor (25) as Eugene G. Roe (21) (~4)
Tim Matthews (23) as Alex M. Penkala Jr. (19) (~4)
Matthew Leitch (24) as Floyd M. "Tab" Talbert (20) (~4)
Peter O'Meara (30) as Norman S. Dike Jr. (26) (~4)
Tom Hardy (22) as John A. Janovec (18) (~4)
Rick Warden (28) as Harry F. Welsh (25) (~3)
Kirk Acevedo (28) as Joseph D. Toye (25) (~3)
Eion Bailey (25) as David Kenyon Webster (22) (~3)
Craig Heaney (26) as Roy W. Cobb (29) (~3)
Damian Lewis (28) as Richard D. Winters (26) (~2)
Robin Laing as Edward J. "Babe" Heffron (~2, 21/23)
Ben Caplan (26) as Walter S. "Smokey" Gordon Jr. (24) (~2)
David Schwimmer (32) as Herbert M. Sobel (33) (~1 year)
Michael Fassbender (22) as Burton P. "Pat" Christenson (21) (~1)
Colin Hanks (22) as Lt. Henry Jones (21) (~1) (age around Bastogne)
Bart Ruspoli (23) as Edward J. Tipper (22) (~1)
~Same age
Peter Youngblood Hills as Darrell C. "Shifty" Powers (21)
Mark Huberman as Lester "Les" Hashey (19)
Younger
Lucie Jeanne (23) as Renée Lemaire (30) (age around Bastogne) (~7)
Ross McCall (23) as Joseph D. Liebgott (29) (~6)
Simon Pegg (29) as William S. Evans (~33) (~4)
Philip Barantini (19) as Wayne A. "Skinny" Sisk (22) (~3)
James Madio (24) as Frank J. Perconte (27) (~3)
Stephen McCole (25) as Frederick "Moose" Heyliger (27) (~2)
Matt Hickey (~16) as Patrick S. O'Keefe (18) (~2)
Incomplete/not found
Phil McKee as Maj. Robert L. Strayer (34)
Rene L. Moreno as Joseph Ramirez (30)
Doug Allen as Alton M. More (24)
David Nicolle as Lt. Thomas A. Peacock (24)
Rebecca Okot as Anna (Augusta Chiwy) (24) (age around Bastogne)
Alex Sabga-Brady as Francis J. Mellet (23)
Mark Lawrence as William H. Dukeman Jr. (22)
Nicholas Aaron as Robert E. (Popeye) Wynn (22)
Peter McCabe as Donald B. Hoobler (21)
Marcos D'Cruze as Joseph P. Domingus (not found)
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owl-in-space · 4 months
Text
I wasn't tagged, nobody knows me, anyway, here's a fuck it friday I guess
It's an outline of my shop owners au because I will implode if I don't talk about it but I don't have anything outside of this yet so
Buck has an established book shop in an alley of LA
He took it over from Bobby and turned it into a queer book shop
At first it was pretty rough but he managed to turn the neighbourhood around and it's now one of thoose "secret" recommended places
Eddie moves there and opens a cafè
Buck doesn't enjoy this new man in his neighbourhood at all. Cue the peacocking he was doing in season 2 compounded with absolutely ignoring the man
Chris visits the book shop and keeps telling Buck stories of his family and his father (absolutely not to mingle at all. Who? Christopher Diaz? Never. He's just..looking for book recommendations)
Chris and Buck bond over obscure knowledge and books because of course they would
Buck also continues to complain about the cafè shop owner who has the audacity to be hot, have a comfy seeming cafè and an unfairly gentle smile. How dare he
(Maddie makes fun of him. Absolutely drags this poor bisexual)
One day Chris brings about his father, who he has praised to heaven and back, which has endured him to good-father-who Evan Buckley
Oh shock, it is Eddie, unfairly hot cafè owner from across the street
Buck struggles with connecting his "hatred" (deeply supressed attraction) to the figure that Chris has painted
Guess who can't really ignore the man anymore. And who quickly changes the way he saw said man as they grow to be closer and closer friends.
During absolutely-not-date family nights, lamenting about the economy and the struggles of a book owner and movies, the two become zhe absolute idiots ignoring their love that they are in the show
(I thought to maybe add a bit where Buck sells "dates with books" at Eddies cafè to boost both their sales)
Buck, a walking bi disaster and shove-emotions-deep-down gay Eddie ignore the blooming live between them so hard. What do you mean it is not normal to spent days at your friends house, trying to teach them to cook and slow dancing to songs?
Eventually, they can't really avoid it anymore. Or well, they would, but the teasing is getting so obvious
This ends in a really sweet confession. Late night sort of thing, in the cafè, complaining about how they wanted to do it first
They absolutely become the annoyingly sweet couple and move their buisnesses together. Married couple energy that's still deeply in live after 4 years
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baratiddyappreciator · 5 months
Note
Baki boys with afab reader who had abs or just muscles
Simping hard is the short answer, but that's not what you're here for lmao.
Baki:
The first time you take your shirt off or show your muscles in any way, shape or form he almost breaks his own neck trying to get a proper look at you. He knew you were a bit more toned than Kozue, but he had no idea you were absolutely ripped.
He's got abs, he knows he does and he thinks they're pretty cool, but he doesn't really care that he has them. Yours, on the other hand? He could stare at the all day and never get tired. They're the greatest things in existence.
He'll beg you to come with him to train so he can see what you're doing that might be different than what he's doing. Do you want a spotter? There he is. Want someone to count your reps? He'll do that too! Honestly, you'll need to remind him to also work out or else he'll just watch and help you the entire time.
He'll take you to the arena once or twice and basically peacock around you so the others can see how stunning you are, you're the prettiest person out there in his eyes and nothing can change that for him, so he's going to show you off to the other fighters.
Hanayama:
He's seen a lot of muscular people, but it's different when you're dating someone that fit, because normally he doesn't care, but with you he just can't get enough. The first time he sees your arm muscles his brain stalls because hot damn bby, those are nice.
Your abs are nice, but so are his. He'll subtly compete with you to see whose abs maintain the best forms. So what if he'll subtly flex the entire time so he can win? That's the point of having abs if you can't look at them?
Try all you want, but your hands will never be as muscular as his. He's got big, thick meaty hands, and that extends up into his wrists. You try and hold his hand and it's just all muscle and tendons. He feels strong, and unfortunately for you, wheter you're amab or afab, you're never gonna be able to get to that level.
You want to go to the arena with him whenever he's going? That's fine. He's proud of you, so he doesn't mind showing you off a bit, especially to Baki or Chiharu. Those are his buddies, and them being able to see the hottie he bagged waltzing around the arena like you own the place is affirming to him.
Chiharu:
You take off your shirt once and he starts full-on licking your abs. No hesitation, no asking for permission. He sees your abs and he's on em. He's got his hands on your hips, and his tongue on your stomach.
He just??? Licks you??? All the time. He doesn't stop. Showing your shoulders off? Lick. Showing your bicep off? Lick. Abs? Lick. Lats? Lick. He's not going to stop licking you because you're just so damn tasty.
He's more than happy to help you workout. You want some weights? Sure thing baby, he has those, he can get some more for you too! You wanna go on a run! He'll book it ahead of you so the route is completely empty for you to enjoy on your own.
He knows you can take care of yourself, those muscles aren't just for show, but hot damn does he not want to put you in a situation where you might be forced to protect yourself, so going with him to the arena or to a gang related matter is off the table.
Katsumi:
YES! HELL YES! Curves? You got em. Muscle? You got em. You'll find him staring at you when you get undressed, drooling. He is looking very respectfully.
You wanna work out? He can work out. You can both workout together!! He has access to a gym, the dojo, anywhere you wanna go, whatever you wanna do, he's doing it with you.
He's gonna grab your hips and hold you close whenever there's something he doesn't like nearby. Is there a shady person around the corner of an alley? He'll hold you close and glare at him until he leaves. You're his pookie, and you might fully well be able to kick some ass, but he's going to make sure you don't have to.
You want to go to the underground arena? It'll take some convincing, but he will eventually take you, if only so you can see him fight and show off.
Jack:
Honestly, he's the most normal about it. You're buff, cool. Good on you, he is proud of you and your work, but like, he's also buff. He's fucking huge. This only means he might be a bit more open to being a bit rougher with you.
You wanna wrestle? Oh he'll wrestle. You'll see that mischievous glint in his eye only seconds before he tackles and pins you to the ground. Will he get up? No, silly, you wanted to wrestle, so you can push him off of you.
You wanna work out? That's something he'll agree with regardless. Honestly, the easiest way to bond with him is to spend time with him while he's working out if only because he does it so often. He's a fantastic gym partner.
You wanna go to the underground arena? Hell no. You're going to have to prove to him that you can protect yourself first, and even then, there are rules that he needs you to follow. He loves you, but if anything happens to you, he'll never forgive himself.
Kosho:
He's oddly quiet and pensive. He's staring straight into your soul really. You're so pretty, he can't help it. Ignoring the muscle, he finds you stunning regardless of how you look, but knowing that you're strong too? That just does something for him.
You wanna work out? He'll work out with you. You can go and bench press comfortably while he meditates in the corner and does some stretches.
He'll just randomly walk up and grab your stomach. Just full-blown wrapping his arms under yours, hands on your abs kinda grab. He likes touching you, and when it's someone else's abs, he can see why people like them so much.
You want to go to the arena? Him too babes, just give him the chance to train a bit more so he can make a comeback. He promises it won't take too long.
Kureha:
He wants to study you. Not in a creepy way or anything, he just wants to look at your muscles and really see how it compares to his own. Really, he knows the differences, but seeing it in person does something to him.
He sees your workout regime and then the next day he gets you another one, one that he said will yield maximum results, and he's not wrong, but it's a really heavy workout.
He's the type to just grab your arm and start tracing your veins. Just worked out? He's tracing all of the little raised veins in your arm up until your shoulder. He's playing with your fingers too.
You want to go to the arena? Sure, he'll swing by next time Jack's fighting and he'll bring you along. He'll just say that he's there to treat the wounds after the fight, it's the perfect cover.
Retsu:
Looking very respectfully, but he's embarrassed to admit that he's looking. It's just a body, he's got no reason to be acting like you're a fresh body of water after a draught, but it's your body and he can't help himself but think that you're just so beautiful.
He has a habit of rubbing your abs after a while. Just laying together in bed or on the couch? His hand is under your shirt, tracing up and down your abs with little nothings.
Workout plan? Done. Meal plan? Done. Meal prep? Done. Leave it all to him, he'll make sure that you have everything you need for your workouts.
A bit hesitant to let you go to the arena, but he won't stop you from joining him. He loves your company, he's just worried you'll find one of the others more suitable than him.
Doppo:
He'll poke you in one of your few soft spots and tease you a bit, but it's in a "oh, you missed a spot! Time to work on your glutes a bit more!" in that highly sarcastic tone he's used a few times.
He likes training alone, but he doesn't mind watching you workout or train when he isn't doing so. He'll bring you water, a snack, and a towel, give you a quick kiss and off he goes to start training himself.
He likes your back. He likes running his hands on your back, for a reason he can't quite understand or tell. He just thinks the softness of your skin and the hardness of your muscles contrasts so interestingly, he can't help it!
You can go to the arena if you want, why wouldn't you be able to do that? He can protect you if you need him to, and he knows you can protect yourself. The arena is a natural place to want to be in his world, and he's happy to include you in that.
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reve-writes · 1 year
Text
—rhythm lines; kaz brekker.
ʚ kaz brekker x f!reader | grishaverse | 1,8k words. ʚ from this ask. | reader is a stage dancer who catches the attention of the dirtyhands himself. ʚ ooc kaz he is so straightforward in this one; bad knowledge of stage dancing; alcohol consumption. ʚ a/n i added in a courtesan-type persona for the reader, i hope you don't mind. this is slightly long. ive been reading a couple of novels with stage dancers as part of the main cast.
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The music starts, booming and loud—a cacophony of instruments that cues you and the four other dancers into a flow of eight-count movements. In your head, you're counting your steps. High-heeled shoes tap tap tapped against the polished hardwood stage. You can't quite make out most of the faces of your audience, obscured in shadows by the overwhelmingly bright stage lights, but when you stand in front of the formation, you flash a million-kruge smile.
A loud cheer erupts.
You suddenly feel very much alive.
You may have done the routine countless times since your employment at the Golden Peacock, but each time you set foot on stage, the rush of exhilaration stays the same. It makes your heart pound as your limbs move purposefully, an extension of your body as you continue to follow the counts and music.
The light dims and the music flows into a slower pace. Out of the corner of your eye, you see movement. Then, as the stage light moves away from you, you spot him. A hat casts a shadow over his face, but you know him. His head tilts up slightly and from across the theatre, your eyes lock.
Kaz Brekker is watching your show? The Dirtyhands himself?
You shoot your practised smile and turn, still following the dance routine you've practised, until you hear a booming crack and the lights suddenly die out.
It's immediately followed by shrieks of panic. A burning smell permeates the air. You feel one of your colleagues grabbing onto your elbow. This cannot be a coincidence. Brekker most likely has something to do with it, does he not? But he is aware that the Golden Peacock, the establishment he's setting his foot in, forbids any sort of gang activity. This is neutral territory.
It doesn't take a minute for the lights to come back on. Your eyes scan over the crowd and he's right there, sitting on the third row from the front, appearing as nonchalant as ever.
The manager of the shows, Madam de Vries, steps on stage with a microphone and announces that everything is under control and performance will resume shortly. Your eyes narrow at Kaz Brekker and he's staring back at you, dark eyes betraying no emotions.
As the music starts playing once more and you take position, you find yourself being unexplicably drawn to his presence—your eyes sweep over the audience, only to linger on him a beat too long and every time you catch he's staring back at you, as if he's been looking at you the whole time.
The curtains fall and you step off the stage as the claps and cheers slowly fade away. After the show, performers usually lounge around on the first floor where there's an attached bar to the theatre. The dancers socialise with their patrons, pour a drink or two to coax tips out of them. You're usually looking forward to the evening chat, but it seems the incident really caused quite a scare and festivities are dying down before it even begins.
You sigh, hauling your satchel on your shoulder and make your way out of the Golden Peacock. Your costume is stuffed in your bag as you've opted for a more comfortable casual attire. Walking out of the side door, you find yourself face-to-face with the Dirtyhands himself.
You see him, but say nothing, immediately walking past. You don't know each other, really. Ghezen, this is the first time you've seen him in the Golden Peacock.
“You're one of the dancers.”
It stops you on your tracks. Your body twists to look back at him. “And you're talking to... me?”
Your voices echo slightly in the small alley. He nods, gloved hands gesturing to the emptiness around him. “Is there anyone else I could be talking to?”
Well, not exactly. Unless he finds dumpsters entertaining conversation partners.
“Then, yes, I'm one of the dancers,” you reply, turning on your heel to face him completely. He takes a couple steps closer to you, careful not to step on the numerous puddles left by the horrible Ketterdam weather as of late.
“The performance was wonderful.”
“Thank you, Mr. Brekker.”
“Kaz is fine.”
Your head tilts slightly to the side. “Mr. Brekker is fine.”
There are implications within your reply: you are not quite at first name basis and you don't want to cross that border of professionalism with him yet. He is, after all, the Dirtyhands. An intimidating figure in the barrel with entirely too much power for someone so young. A word from him can make or break anyone in this part of Ketterdam.
Perhaps you should've been more amicable.
He raises his hands in a surrendering manner, one of them is clutching the crow-headed cane he's known for. “Whatever suits you. What about yours?”
“Mine?”
“Your name.”
You tell him your name and he helps himself to calling you by your first name. He has no regards for professionalism. Not when it comes to you.
“Pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he says. “Would you like me to walk you?”
You shake your head immediately. “I'll be alright, Mr. Brekker. Nice to meet you, as well.”
With that, you swiftly walk away. Associating yourself with gang members is one thing, but with the leaders? That has to come with a lot of downsides.
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You've come to find out that a painting was stolen that evening. A landscape, they say. Worth three million kruge. You wouldn't be surprised if it's sitting nice and pretty on the wall of Brekker's office. You feign ignorance, of course. Tittle-tattle never ends well in this part of Ketterdam. Not unless one wants a target on their back.
When you enter the dressing room, you see an oversized flower arrangement by your vanity. Tess, your colleague, looks at you as if she's been eagerly anticipating your arrival.
“Ghezen,” she says. “Brekker, huh? And I thought I took risky clients.”
Your eyebrows furrow. “What are you talking about?”
Her head tilts towards the flowers. A series of roses and hydrangeas and carnations stacked inside a basket that takes up the whole surface of the vanity desk. In the middle of it is a hand-written note.
Looking forward to tonight's performance. I'm not sure what your preferrence on flowers are. Perhaps we can discuss it after the show. —Kaz.
You look at Tess, mouth agape, and then back down at the note. Your eyes scanning the letters repeatedly.
“Am I reading this correctly?”
Tess chuckles. “Why do you sound so surprised?”
“We don't—” You're not entirely sure how to phrase it. “We're only acquaintances.”
“It doesn't appear so.”
You look at Tess—and the flowers—and back at Tess again.
“It doesn't,” you relent.
It's a new routine—the steps are slower, music more melancholic, but the performance hypnotises the crowd all the same. When you're lounging around the first floor of the Golden Peacock, a drink on hand, many come to pay compliments for the show. You smile, entertain the small talks and crack a couple of jokes.
“Excuse me.” You give a conspiratory grin as you step back from a conversation. Across the room, sitting at the bar, is Kaz Brekker, who's practically staring holes into you. Your dress flows behind you as you swiftly make your way towards him.
“Evening,” you greet, sliding into the seat next to him. He nods at you. “Thank you for the flowers.”
He waves his hand dismissively. “Don't mention it. Although I do wonder if you have any preferences? Lilies, perhaps?”
“I've never given it much thought, but i do like jasmines.”
“Jasmines, then,” he says.
“Do you send flowers to people in your free time?”
“Well, not people, only you.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Charming.”
“If I were to ask you to dinner, what would you say?”
“Well, Mr. Brekker—”
“Kaz.”
“Kaz,” you relent. “I would consider it.”
He takes a sip of his drink. “I hope you do.”
With that, he leaves quietly, and it's like he was never there at all, except for the fact that you find your eyes keep darting around the room at similar silhouettes, at every curved hat and black coat. Even the drinks don't quite wash away the effects of his presence.
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This is the third time this week.
On your weekend show, as you're moving across the stage, shoes clicking and arms following precise movements you've practised, you spot him again. Up on one of the private boxes, eyes drilling into you as he watches you and only you throughout the whole performance.
The flowers come every day without fail. Jasmines are the main part of the bouquet, along with a handwritten note encouraging you for your performances. The gesture is terribly sweet and you find yourself getting sentimental, starting to build quite a collection of the notes.
You've never been nervous—not when you've been doing this almost seven days a week for years, but lately, you find yourself tapping your foot on the ground, unable to settle before each performance, anxious whether or not you will find spot in the audience.
And when you don't find him, disappointment almost drowns you, making it harder to breathe in your corsets and feathery costumes.
You've never changed faster in your life, already making your way to the first floor even as Tess has barely started taking off her jewellery. Kaz Brekker has this effect on you, you've discovered. His presence calls for that giddiness—an anticipatory response to his very presence. You keep looking forward to conversing with him.
He looks dashing—usual dark coat and dark hat and dark vest over dark shirt. A couple of patrons seem to have taken interest in the Dirtyhands, perhaps clamouring in hopes of an alliance or just an attempt to make acquaintance with one of the most powerful gang leaders in the Barrell. Either way, he excuses himself immediately when he sees you.
“You're a marvel to witness on stage.”
“Flatterer.” You roll your eyes. “One of these days you'll run out of flattery.”
“For you? Never.”
“Can I take you up on the dinner offer?” You ask finally. Kaz seems taken aback, the offer has been left on the table for a little too long, but you're actually saying yes.
“Of course. When are you free?”
“Is right now okay?”
“I would've preferred it if I can make arrangements in advance,” he answers. Head already running through his plans. Restaurants. Flowers. After-dinner activities.
“We can save the arrangements for next time,” you suggest. “Spontaneous dinner can be quite lovely too, can't it?”
He bites back a smile with the insinuation of 'next time'. “With a lovely company, yes.”
He offers you his arm and you rest your hand in the crook of his elbow, skin warm on the soft material of his coat.
“Will I get to see the painting?”
He tilts his head quizzically.
“The first time you were here. You took it.” You lower your voice conspiratorily. “I want to see it.”
He gives you a small, lop-sided smile. “If that's what you wish.”
And there it is again—the anticipatory restlessness, giddy to see what he will offer you.
[ ]
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Text
2023.12.17
Complete fics posted on AO3 this day
1. Imaginary Playground by @xx-thedarklord-xx [T, 1k]
►Draco owns the biggest toy store in Diagon Alley, and he makes all of the wooden toys himself. Business is good, but his favorite part of the day is when his favorite customer brings in their father, even if that father is Potter.
2. Sealed With A Kiss by @jtimu [T, 1k]
►This time, Pansy is up to something.
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Fest/Exchange
1. A Christmas to Remember by Anonymous [M, 21k]
►Draco has never liked Christmas, and for good reason. Almost all of the memories he has of the winter holiday season are at best cold and lonely, and a worst wrought with fear and danger. Will this Christmas be marginally tolerable? Or is he in for another frigid, forgettable disaster? If Harry Potter has any say in the matter, it will be...a little bit of both? ★ Wheel of Drarry Mini-Exchange Secret Santa 2023 | @drarrymicrofic
2. Clear Skies, Full Hearts by Anonymous [E, 16k]
►Harry loves everything about playing professional Quidditch – the rush of flying, the rush of winning, the rush of getting off with rival seeker Draco Malfoy. Harry’s the highest scoring rookie Seeker in the history of the League. He’s also, inexplicably, obsessively, hooking up with Draco. When Draco unexpectedly quits the League and disappears from Harry’s life, Harry doesn’t stop wondering what it all meant and if he’ll ever get another chance to find out. ★ H/D Erised 2023 | @hd-erised
3. A Peacock in a Pear Tree by Jelliebabie [E, 10k]
►Every December, Voldemort sends the Order a Christmas Gift... ★ Dark Festivus Gift Exchange 2023 | @harrypotterfesthub
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