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night-raven-tattler · 3 months

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Can you offer me a nice shirt in this trying time?

Summary: The usual shenanigans leave you with an unwearable shirt. All you can do is ask your friend (?) for help.

Characters: Leona, Jade, Epel, Malleus and GN!Reader (separate, platonic adjacent...?)

Warnings: mentions of anxiety and mild panic over the dirty shirt

By opening the document, you agree to Mx Tattly's terms of source confidentiality.

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Looking at your pathetic expression akin to a kicked puppy while you tried to cover your dirty shirt made Leona burst into laughter, even after you just stepped on his tail

You looked away, flustered, not even wanting to recount the embarassing turn of events that just happened

But you didn't need to; Leona heard it all

He heard you from the other side of the botanical gardens talking with your friends, who started bickering with each other

Things got a bit physical in a playful way, but none of you really expected to shove each other so hard you all crumbled to the ground like a ridiculous domino

And the only thing you could be glad for was that you missed the pile of compost nearby

And now you were in front of him as he quite enjoyed your flustered state

"I wanted to apologise for stepping on your tail, you know. But I changed my mind."

Leona's laughter turned into snickering as he wiped nonexistent tears away from his eyes

"If you don't want me to laugh, then stop acting like a clown."

You stomped your foot, which made Leona look at you

"This is serious! I have no other clean shirt and class is going to start soon. So you can either help me or give me an idea or leave me alone."

Something in Leona's eyes changed at your words: his mocking aura went away slightly, and you could almost hear what he was thinking

Still thinking about class after being dragged in dirt? Damn goody-two-shoes.

"Alright, I'm doing this just this once. But if I catch you play in dirt again, you're on your own, you damn warthog."

Leona put a hand in his pocket, then tapped his foot

To your surprise, the dirt started vanishing from your outfit right away

All you could do was stare at Leona, mouth agape

And he stared right back at you

Until his smile turned into a frown in a secons

"What are you waiting for, a kiss on the cheek? Just go to your class already."

You just frantically nodded and scurried away from him

...just to return a few seconds later and leave, in fact, a kiss on his cheek

He just stared at you while you awaited any kind of reaction beside his resting tired face

"...Forget what I said about not helping you. Next time I'll shove you into dirt myself."

That reaction seemed to satisfy you enough, as you took your leave right after his threat

『••✎••』

Working at the Mostro Lounge had its ups and downs

Ups: the job is on campus, the place is always looking for workers and it's one of the best paying jobs on campus

Downs: one of your coworkers is Jade, and the other is Floyd

They'd be relatively nice coworkers if they didn't take their sweet time with helping you while enjoying every second of suffering from all living creatures

Like they did when you tripped on your way to a client and spilled the drink on yourself

They just watched for a few seconds how you panicked over the dirty shirt and the irritated customer

Jade came and dragged you away a few seconds too late for your liking while Floyd started on another drink against his will

You had no idea why Jade led you to the Lounge's changing room, but his smile did not calm you down at all

After all, Jade was very talented at everything except of being reassuring

He left you on your own for a few seconds, coming back with a new uniform shirt, which he handed to you

"This is a replacement for your dirty shirt. Please get changed so you can resume your duties."

You stared at Jade suspiciously

Was he handing you a shirt just like that?

He accepted your silent confusion for a few more seconds before his smile widened, showing his teeth

"What is the problem, Reader? Perhaps you require my assistance with getting changed?"

No matter how hard you frowned at him, the blush was not making your disdain too effective

"What? No! That's not it!"

"...So you're saying you would not refuse my services if that were to be the case?"

"I- no! Ugh!"

Even while you hid your face in the shirt you knew he was still giving you that annoying grin

"You're saying I can just change into this? Without any payment or punishment?"

Jade gasped and put a hand over his chest, feigning offense

"What an incredulous accusation, Reader. I can assure you that no consequences will follow you needing another shirt for the remainder of your shift."

"..."

"...Are you sure?"

"Certainly."

You knew better than to trust any of the tweels, but you supposed you'll cross that bridge when you got to it

Besides, being MIA on your shift might make Azul take thaumarks out of your paycheck, and you didn't need to manifest that kind of outcome

"Fine, I'll take it. Please leave so I can change."

"As you wish."

So he left you in the empty changing room, a hint of a blush still on your face

You knew getting revenge on any student at NRC was a bad idea, but you couldn't help but imagine "accidentally" spilling some cherry juice on Jade's dorm uniform

『••✎••』

Cleaning duty in the library was not fun, but at least Epel knew how to make things entertaining

He wasn't a comedian or anything like that, but his Vil-themed tirades were always animated and gossipy enough that they had you hooked on his every word

Or every word that you could understand, at least

And a complaining storytelling Epel is not the most careful Epel

So you were not too surprised when he spilled some ink on your sleeves

"Hey, my shirt! You spilled ink on me!"

Epel noticed the big stains and his eyes widened

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!"

"What am I gonna do?! I have no clean laundry today!"

While you were frantically pacing around, Epel was staring at the floor, not being able to meet your eyes

"Hey, come on... It's not that bad. See, it's just a small stain!"

The death glare you threw his way rivaled Vil's, and Epel took a step back instinctively

"Okay, okay! I get it, let me think..."

A few seconds of contemplation later, Epel went to the window and looked outside

"Hey, Vil is having a club meeting outside right now. He must have a stain stick or a spell or something."

"What about cleaning duty?"

"Just go deal with your shirt and come back when it's clean. I'll put away all the old ink in the meantime."

After Epel's convincing, you relented

But now you had the perfect opportunity to show off your newly aquired NRC thirst for revenge...

Let's just say that Vil was very thankful you told him about Epel's attitude towards your stain while he dealt with it....

Epel did not talk to you the next day

Except for that time during lunch when he came towards you with a bitter expression and some comically overfilled pockets

When he got next to you, he shoved his hand into one of his pockets and, with difficulty, pulled out 5 stain pens

"I hate you."

That was all he said before walking away

『••✎••』

During your days as an NRC student you've learned a lot of things, including facts about the weather

1: The weather will always be nice on the date of the monthly scarabinelle debates in the courtyard

2: The statue of the King of the Underworld from the courtyard never got wet from rain

3: Unlike his statue, you were not waterproof

Neither was your shirt

So by the time you reached the Hall of Mirrors, you were soaking wet

You marveled at your misfortune right as Malleus entered the room through the Diasomnia mirror

His mild surprise from bumping into you made him almost not notice your predicament

"...Child of man? What happened to you?"

You sighed and told him you were caught in the rain, but you had no clean change of clothes and were feeling pretty cold already

"Hm. This can't do. Humans are very fragile creatures, a simple soak can leave lasting effects on your body.

Malleus seemed to fall deep in thought, as if he was presented with an incredible puzzle, and not the random misfortune of a friend

He nodded to himself, and you were curious to know the conclusion he reached

"Allow me to help you."

You sighed of relief at his decision

Out of everyone on campus, you trusted Malleus to be genuine and helpful, so you accepted his help

You didn't think much of it when he pulled out his magical pen from his pocket; you figured he was just going to use a small drying spell

Boy were you wrong.

Malleus rotated his pen slightly in the air, creating an ever growing wind

The speed and intensity of it grew very fast, and you had to grab onto a pillar to hold yourself in place

You watched in horror how a few students were pushed by the wind back into their mirrors as soon as they entered the Hall of Mirrors

You couldn't even attempt to do any damage control, since the wind was too loud for your voice to be heard

After what felt like forever, Malleus' wind started to dwindle and your feet were able to be on the ground again

"That... That certainly was a method of helping."

"Well? Was it successful? You seem pretty dry to me."

He smiled proudly at you

It was obvious how he knew that he did a good job and he was simply awaiting your praise

You patted down your uniform, and were surprised to notice your uniform was, indeed, dry

"...Yeah, actually. Thanks!"

"You are very welcome."

His smug words were carried by his confident grin as he proudly marched away from you and out of the room

The whole interaction was definitely weird, so you couldn't help but share it over lunch with your friends, Ace and Deuce

After you shared Malleus' small drying machine job, Ace started laughing at you, while Deuce put a hand on your shoulder, a sympathetic look on his face

『••✎••』

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #leona kingscholar #jade leech #epel felmier #malleus draconia #leona kingscholar x reader #jade leech x reader #epel felmier x reader #malleus draconia x reader

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igotanidea · 5 months

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Too much : Anthony Bridgerton x reader

Request: yes! Anthony and his wife having an argument.

***

„My lord.”

One of Bridgertons’ most trusted servant knocked on the door of his office and was bold enough to enter inside without invitation.

„I specifically told everyone to not disturb me.” Anthony muttered, not giving his man more than a grunt of annoyance.

Viscount’s sudden change of attitude has been the talk of the whole house lately. After months of sweetness and caring and love between him and his beloved wife Lady Y/N Bridgerton of house Y/H/N something has switched.

For worse.

Man of the house has became distant (again), leaving his wife to tend to herself. Suddenly, his duties, his visits to the sibling’s, social activities (which was a synonim of spending hours at gentleman’s club) and travels to the other parts of the kingdom (seemingly to inspect the state of assets) took most of, if not whole of his time.

Everyone’s noticed.

And even without the viscount and his wife ending up on lady Whistledown’s latest brochure.

But truthfully with lord Bridgerton’s stubborn nature and finality there wasn’t much anyone could do, even considering all the sympathy for his young wife.

„I’m afraid you have a very important visit my lord.”

„Just tell whoever it is, that I’m not taking visits at the moment.”

„My lord -”

„Thomson, did you not hear what I said?” finally Anthony raised his gaze on the poor servant.

„It’s the viscountess, my lord.” the other man stuttered.

‘My mother?”

„Your wife, sir.”

„Oh, right....” of course, now Y/N was the viscountess, but somehow it was easy to forget she has been holding that title.

„Shall I - shall I tell the lady to come back another-?”

„No. No I’ll see my wife now.” Anthony sighed and since there was no other word from him the butler froze, unsure of how to behave „Well? Let her in, will you?” there was the annoyance again.

The door was opened and there she was.

Y/N. In all her glory, looking beautiful as always, wearing that dress that always took Anthony;s breath away since she nearly glowed while walking. Her smile did not even falter for a second as she nodded to the servant in a silent acknowledgement, but her eyes were cold and sad, uncovering she hasn’t in fact been well lately. Regardless of the rumours, allegations that the viscount stopped loving her after no more than a year since marriage and got himself a lover (please don’t let it be Sienna all over) she held her head high and kept the appearances. No one had to know that the cheerful, graceful viscountess Bridgerton were spending her nights alone in a cold marriage bed, tossing, turning, tormenting herself with thoughts and longing for the embrace of the man she loved with all her heart.

‘Husband.” she said calmly once the door closed behind her, leaving her just standing in front of him awkwardly.

„Wife.”

„I didn’t have the faintest idea I do need to announce my visit in advance. I shall correct that mistake in the future if that’s your wish my lord.”

„Is there any specific reason of why you’re here Y/N?”

„Is my presence here this disturbing to you my lord?”

The scribbling on the paper was the only answer she got and it finally broke all her inhibitions and pretences.

"Anthony!"

"What?" he snapped looking up at her from the pile of documents on his desk.

"Talk to me!"

"I'm busy!"

"And I'm lonely! You've been spending time with Benedict and Colin and Daphne and your siblings and god knows where else but not me!"

"They are my family, Y/N."

"I am your family! This is not what your mother-"

"Don’t you dare-" he stood up abruptly almost tripping the chair, throwing daggers at her. "Don't you dare say a word about my mother!"

Now that's a drama the whole household heard.

„Your mother-” she tried again, this time more sternly taking one step forward „showed me nothing but kindness. Your whole family showed me nothing but kindness. All of them. Except-”

„Don’t finish it.” he warned but it came much more like a spat.

„-you.”

„Well I didn’t force you to marry me!”

The silence that fell between them after that one sentence was deafening. Nothing has ever hurt Y/N this much in her entire life. Never before Anthony has let himself say such cruel words in the moment of weakness and anger. All because he felt too much, because he needed and loved her too much.

„No.” she said with a tiny voice, her face going as pale as the wall behind her. „no, you didn’t force me. Not sure if you didn't do it to yourself.”

‘Y/N....” Anthony took a step towards her reaching his hand in a poor attempt to form a word that would remedy the situation, help him explain himself and bring her some comfort. „I didn’t mean-”

„I’m sorry I’ve seemingly ruined your life, my lord.”

„That is not-”

„Please accept my deepest condolences and apologies for ruining your blooming love life with that actress you knew. Know. Shall you remind me her name?”

„Y/N!” he shouted in pure desperation.

„Her name, Anthony!” now she was using her noble voice, leaving no word for discussion even to the viscount.

„No.”

„Sienna.” Y/N hissed through clenched teeth, her behaviour far from lady-like. „That’s her name isn’t it? Sienna?”

„You can’t help but remind me of the past mistakes, don’t you, my lady?” her husband growled turning her back to her not wanting to see her face anymore. „You’re the one I vowed to.”

‘Forcefully, apparently. Maybe the only mistake you made was letting me walk the aisle and taking my hand while saying I do.”

„Maybe it was! Maybe I didn’t give enough thought to it! Perhaps I didn’t consider that seeing you every day, walking the rooms of my house, using the title of my wife, naming yourself viscountess Bridgerton will be too much to bare to my heart!”

What Anthony did not consider at that moment was that Y/N would take it way differently than he intended.

He was merely thinking that it was too much too handle cause he was not used to being so attached, so dependant, so - well,forgive me the word - needy. Of her, her touch, her words, her presence, her everything. Hence the distant he put between him and his wife. Perverse nature made him run away before loosing her.

Ironically, causing her to turn away, barely holding back tears, instead of falling into his arms. (such a surprise, right?)

„Forgive me my lord, for keeping your mind occupied with my humble person for too long. I am but nothing if not a modest woman, unworthy of the attention of the viscount.”

Oh god, what did he do...?

„You are -”

„Below you. Obviously. Perhaps I should have considered your coldness and self-isolation as well. I don’t -” she gulped „I don’t understand what happened to you, Anthony.”

„I-” as pathetic as that was her husband was trying to explain himself to her.

„Feelings overwhelm you Anthony.” that was something he could not disagree with „Now, my lord, if you’ll excuse me, I shall leave, since as you said - you’re busy and I clearly bring you this much displeasure. I shall not bother you again any time soon.”

Before he could stop her Y/N bowed to him in a way more formal and distant way Anthony would wish for, and simply walked away. Leaving him frozen, desperate and broken with the urge to run after her, apologise and reason with that fiery woman who always knew how to make his blood boil. He wanted to hold her, love her and whisper sweet nothings into her ear while feeling her in the most intimate way a man and a wife could ever be together.

But did nothing while she disappeared behind the door.

„Prepare my carriage” she commanded the first servant that came her way.

„Yes, my lady, may I ask to what destination?”

„I’m going to visit my sister-in-law.”

„Certainly lady Briderton. It’ll be ready for you.”

„And not a word of it to my husband.”

„But my lady -”

‘Not a single word. This is an order, not a request.”

She needed a word with the only person who could possibly understand.

part 2 possible... (I think ;) )

edit: not enough

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fic #bridgerton angst

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fandomsimagined · 4 months

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Don't Go Dark - Kaz Brekker x Reader

Title: Don't Go Dark

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Female!Reader

Summary: Kaz Brekker realizes that he has feelings for his healer.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: What you could expect from Six of Crows

A/N: This is my first time writing for Kaz, so if it's out of character, I apologize. I kind of gave up and phoned it in at the end so if you can tell, I'm sorry. Very loosely inspired by the song Don't Go Dark by Bleachers.

For most of his life, Kaz Brekker called the Barrel home–despite the fact that there was really nothing homey about it–and there was one thing that he knew for certain about the dreadful place: that it always had a tendency to contort even the purest of things into something nasty. No one was good-natured for the sake of it. If someone was kind, it was usually a ploy, as he very well knew. That was one of his first lessons in survival. Love was a weakness that oftentimes had disastrous consequences. The only thing to come from the Barrel was carnage. The currency was blood, and he’d paid his share and then some with his own, and with others. Only the most ruthless and ungodly people prospered, and prosper he did.

Believe it or not, he did remember the short life he had before the Barrel. He remembered his father and their farm, and he remembered after his father died when Jordie sold the farm with the promise that they would find fortune in Ketterdam. That was when he’d learned the most valuable lesson that there was to learn. That the only person he could truly count on was himself. To love nothing and trust no one. If he loved nothing, then there was nothing to be used against him. Nothing that anyone could take from him. It got lonely, but it had kept him alive for this long, a feat not many accomplished, so that was how he lived.

She was different. She didn’t live under the same guise of violence as the rest of Ketterdam. She didn’t have the same mentality: that things can always–and most likely will–get worse. She didn’t hold grudges. Not like Kaz did. Kaz was fueled by vengeance and spite. He took whatever was thrown at him in stride with the knowledge that he would find vindication by dealing a much harsher punishment.

The winter chill bit to the bone, an unfortunate truth for Kaz especially, whose bones were already not in well-working order. His limp was more pronounced as he made his way to his office (formerly Haskell’s). The Dregs were still bustling about, doing Saints knows what, but none would bother him. It was late, the state of his face was less pristine than when he’d left, and his permanent scowl was even more noticeable than usual. No, they would leave him be.

The meeting with the Razorgulls had gone as well as he’d expected, which was not well at all. They weren’t too happy to see him, still holding a grudge over Pekka Rollins’ quite unfortunate downfall. They’d landed a couple of punches, but he always had the upper hand, and they were smart enough when it was over to abandon Fifth Harbor entirely.

His office door was slightly ajar, something that didn’t bode well. He knew that the healer would be waiting for him, but she was never so careless to leave the door open, as there were quite a few documents and collectibles that he preferred to keep away from the other Dregs.

He pushed the rickety door open and immediately he could feel that something was off. She was sitting in the extra wooden chair that he kept there (mostly for her and Jesper since he rarely gave anyone else the privilege to stay in his office for long periods). He sat in his desk chair, his gloved fingers thumbing through the papers that he’d left. Nothing important, just something to keep him occupied.

Kaz Brekker noticed everything; meaning that Kaz Brekker noticed her trembling hands, though she tried to disguise it by keeping them folded in her lap. He noticed her red-rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks that she’d tried to hide, and he noticed that she was jumpier than usual. Something had happened, that much was obvious, but he wouldn’t push. If she wanted to talk, she would, otherwise, it was none of his concern. Though, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of anger at the mere idea of anything happening to her.

“Again? Kaz, you really should be more careful.” It was no surprise that she was born a healer. It was quite literally in her nature to be caring. She was born to fix things.

“Why? If I were to die tomorrow, all of Ketterdam would breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe even cheers to the occasion,” Kaz scoffed. It sounded grim, but it meant that he was good at what he did, so he saw it as an honor of sorts. He was in control.

“I wouldn’t.” She frowned. She moved to stand above him, getting leverage so she could properly heal his face. Her lips were pursed in concentration as her fingers hovered over a gash on his cheek. It was a strange feeling. It was like he could feel the skin stitching back together as she worked. It was like an itch. “I quite like having you around.”

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere.” Kaz raised his eyebrows, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “What are you getting at? A raise?”

“Oh please, why would I even bother trying to flatter you?” She rolled her eyes. “Not when I know all I have to do is compliment Jesper’s hat, give him a few kruge to gamble away, and he’ll talk you into whatever I want.”

“And here I thought that you were too soft for the Barrel.” Kaz smirked.

“I’m serious, what are you going to do if I’m not around to fix you up?”

He thought about the statement carefully. The implication of the words. That was the confirmation he needed to push for further information. She’d opened the door. “Are you planning on going somewhere?” Maybe that’s why she was acting so strange. She seemed like the type to get all weepy about leaving. He wasn’t particularly fond of the idea himself. It would be harrowing work trying to find a new healer. Especially a trustworthy one, but he wouldn’t stop her if that’s what she wanted. He just wouldn’t pretend to be happy about either.

“No!” She exclaimed quickly. “No, of course not.” Her quick response and furrowed brow were a relief. She wasn’t planning on leaving him. Not yet, anyway.

“Well, if you’re not planning on leaving, then I suppose I don’t have to worry about it then, do I?” Kaz spoke bluntly, though he supposed if she listened close enough, she would hear the twinge of satisfaction hidden beneath. It was selfish. Ketterdam was a grim place, but he didn’t want her to leave. She made it a little less grim.

Her fingers moved eloquently, drifting over his broken nose, close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her palm. It did him well not to think about how close she was to him. It would probably send him into fight-or-flight mode if he did.

He winced as he felt the bone setting back into place. It was nothing that hadn’t happened before, though he wasn’t sure that he would ever get used to the damn itch that plagued the area as she was working her magic. That wasn’t what bothered him, though. What bothered him was that she hadn’t spoken again, something that was quite unlike her. Normally she would be scolding him or telling him all about whatever had happened at the Crow Club that afternoon. No, she hadn’t spoken and she hadn’t provided any elaboration to her previous statement.

“Is everything alright?” He pressed further. If it was anyone else, he would’ve left it be. A problem for another day, but this wasn’t anyone else.

“No… I mean…” She started and paused, turning to face the wall to her side as if avoiding looking at him. He was relieved that she wasn’t planning on leaving the Dregs just yet, but there was something bothering her and he couldn’t deny being slightly concerned about what it was. Had something happened at the club while he was gone? Surely one of the others downstairs would have mentioned something to him when he walked in if it had. But, there was no way to be sure.

She turned back to face him, taking a shaky breath as if trying to figure out what to say. “This afternoon while I was on my way to the club, a man grabbed me. Put a knife to my throat and said that if I didn’t give him all of my kruge, then he would slit my throat, watch me bleed out, and then take it all anyways. It wasn’t even much, just seventeen, but he was willing to kill me for it.” He clenched his jaw as she recounted the story. He wouldn’t interrupt, but he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t already plotting on what he would do when he found the bastard. She reached up to fiddle with the necklace chain that she always wore, but it was missing. He’d taken her locket too.

“I was sure he would kill me even if I gave it to him, I saw his face for Saints’ sake, but I just… It made me think about if something had happened to me, then who would be here to make sure that you didn’t get yourself killed? I mean, you’ve almost done it several times with me here and I’m one of the best healers in Kerch, not to pat myself on the back or anything…” She was one of the best healers in Kerch. That was why he’d recruited her in the first place, and that was why she was under his protection. Though, he thought that she might’ve been exaggerating. He was pretty sure, he only almost died twice, and only once was his fault.

“Who was it?” Kaz said through gritted teeth. It was unlikely that it was anyone from a rival gang. It wasn’t a secret that she was associated with the Dregs and they weren’t stupid. Pulling a stunt like that would start a war, especially since it was in Fifth Harbor. That was his territory. No, the only one that bold would be the Dime Lions, but they would’ve killed her to send a message. This was probably some random person off of the street if he had to guess. Looking for a quick buck, so they thought why not steal it? What they didn’t know was that they’d stolen it from the wrong woman.

“Kaz-”

“Who was it?” He repeated.

“It doesn’t matter. The point is, that I might not be here next time you decide to go and get yourself all bloodied up, and what if it’s more serious next time?” He didn’t like the way that she was talking so casually about the prospect of dying. Like it was inevitable, and she was making her final arrangements before she went.

“Listen to me carefully. Nothing’s going to happen to you because I won’t let it.” It was a statement not a question. He would make sure to get the message across that not only was she associated with the Dregs, but she was under the protection of Dirtyhands himself, and he would make sure to send a very clear warning as to what would happen should anyone get the bright idea to lay a finger on his crew again.

“You’re not always going to be there to protect me, Kaz. We all know it’s only a matter of time. People like me don’t make it very long here. I’m not strong, or smart, or resourceful enough…” Her eyes were glassy, trying to hold back the tears that were forming in her eyes. He was confused. None of those things could have been farther from the truth. She may have been soft, sure, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t smart or strong. She had to be strong to have put up with him for so long. He wasn’t known to be the most facile person in the world.

“Nothing is going to happen to you.” Kaz’s voice was gravelly. It was rough. In fact, he’d often heard it described as the voice of a demon, or the devil himself. There was nothing soothing about it, yet he saw her shoulders slump in what seemed to be relief. That even though the Saints had never looked out for her, he would.

She didn’t say anything else. Neither did he. That was that. There was nothing left to be said. He didn’t make promises that he didn’t intend to keep. He lied, he stole, he killed, but he didn’t break his promises. And there wasn’t a promise that he ever intended to keep more than that one.

She silently worked on mending the split on his cheek. The Razorgulls had gotten a couple of good shots in. More than he thought, and he was starting to feel it, though he wouldn’t for long.

“Stay at the Slat tonight.” He finally broke the silence. She didn’t live far, but clearly she wasn’t safe and he couldn’t have that.

“What?” She shot him a puzzled look. It was seemingly out of the blue, and he didn’t exactly give much room for any discussion.

“I want you to stay at the Slat tonight. It’s late, you shouldn’t walk home in the dark.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kaz perused the selection at Alwynn’s pawn shop. When he’d noticed that her necklace had been stolen, he knew that it had probably ended up in a pawn shop somewhere. No one stole jewelry off of ladies on the street to wear. No, clearly he needed money.

He’d expected to have to go to more than one shop to find any relevant information, but no. It was almost too easy. He’d spotted the necklace on a display in the front of the store. He recognized it immediately. The dainty gold chain could’ve easily been confused, but the locket that dangled from it, couldn’t be.

“Mr. Brekker, I didn’t think of you as the jewelry type,” Alwynn gave a short laugh.

“Well, Alwynn, there are quite a few things you don’t know about me.”

“That, I’m sure of.”

“How much did you buy it for?” Kaz inquired.

“Bought it for twenty-five. Selling it for forty-two.” Kaz wasn’t surprised. Alwynn had always been a crook.

“Who brought it in?”

“I’m afraid I can’t say. Merchant-client privilege, I’m sure you understand.” Alwynn appeared nervous now. Good.

“I’ll pay double the price.”

Alwynn thought for a moment. “His name’s Griffin. He came in yesterday afternoon. He’s been staying in the alley beside Burke’s.”

“Thank you, Alwynn. It’s been a pleasure as always.” He was well aware that he probably could’ve stolen the necklace or threatened him without spending the kruge, but he decided to, for once, pick his battles. He slid over the proper amount of kruge before making his way to the door.

Kaz found Griffin exactly where Alwynn said he would be.He’d clearly been staying there, the pile of rags on the ground and empty bottles were scattered beside them. He almost felt sorry for him. He almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

Kaz approached Griffin, making his presence known. The man, probably around twenty or so, must have been at least a little intelligent, because his expression was a mixture of fear and confusion.

“Good evening Griffin,” Kaz crooned. “You know, I heard from a close source of mine that you met a lady around this area yesterday afternoon.”

“I meet a lot of ladies around here.” Griffin scoffed.

“Well, this particular lady said that you threatened her. Stole her money and a necklace. Surely you would remember that. Unless, you make a habit out of stealing from women. Do you?”

“What?”

“Do you only target women to pay for your alcohol addiction, or was this particular lady just a special case?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he sputtered.

“How much did you take?” Kaz growled, ignoring the obvious lie that had escaped from his mouth. He didn’t need an answer. He already knew. 17 kruge and her necklace (which he’d gotten thirty-five for at the shop), but he wanted to hear him admit it.

“I told you, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Even if Kaz didn’t already know he was lying, it wouldn’t have been hard to tell. The sweat beading at his forehead, the way his eyes darted, the fact that he had around fifty-two kruge worth of bottles at his feet. It was too easy.

“This wouldn’t happen to jog your memory would it?” Kaz held the chain out. Griffin’s face went pale. It was as if all of the color had simply vanished. “So, I’ll ask again: how much did you take?”

“Not a lot, just seventeen kruge, and I’ll-”

“You’ll pay it back. In fact, you’re going to pay back the seventeen that you stole, the eighty-four I had to pay to buy the necklace back from the crook you sold it to, and an extra thirty kruge for making me get out in this dreadful cold to track down you and this necklace.” Kaz felt it to be a fair trade. For him at least.

“I don’t have that kind of money.”

“Well, I suggest that you find it before the week is out. Paid in full, and after that, I don’t want to see you back in Fifth Harbor again, and if I do, I’ll make sure that you end up at the bottom of the Harbor.” He turned to walk back towards the street, but he turned back before he got there. He swung his cane, hard, at Griffin’s right hand–his dominant one–earning a howl of pain. “Next time you decide to steal jewelry from a woman on the street, I would suggest selling it to a shop that’s not only a few feet away from where you’re staying.”

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“What’s this?” She looked puzzled at the pouch of kruge that he’d dropped on the table in front of her. Kaz didn’t answer, and realization flooded over her face. “Kaz…” she gave him a stern look. “You didn’t kill him, did you? I would feel really guilty if you killed him.”

“Relax, I didn’t kill him.” Kaz scowled. “But, he won’t be bothering you or anyone else around Fifth Harbor anymore.”

“That really makes it sound like you killed him…”

“I did not kill him. I simply reminded him that it’s not very polite to threaten women.” Kaz rolled his eyes. “Besides, if I’d killed him, I wouldn’t have gotten this back, would I?” He draped the gold chain over his gloved fingers. It was beside the point that he’d found the necklace before he’d found Griffin, and that he could’ve easily gotten it back had he killed him. She didn’t need to know that.

“You got my locket back?” She gasped in disbelief. She took the chain, eyes wide. “How? Wait…” she paused. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.”

“I’ll have you know that you’re missing out on quite the lovely story, then,” Kaz teased.

“I’m sure. I think it’ll be far lovelier if I never find out, though.” She chuckled. “Because something tells me it involved some of your more extreme measures.”

“Not extreme enough if you ask me. He got to keep all of his fingers. You know if I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you’re making me soft.”

“Thank you.” She offered him a gracious smile.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Kaz had never been one to fear others. He was fairly confident in his ability to fight his way out of a skirmish, should one come up, so why would he? He’d fought off far more men than the three in front of him on his own. What could he have to fear?

He had never been afraid, but all it took was a few goddamn words and his blood turned to ice. “It would be a shame if something were to happen to that healer of yours, wouldn’t it?” A threat. A barely subtle attempt at one. In any other case, he probably would’ve laughed it off. Come up with some witty response. He didn’t have it in him. What if it wasn’t a bluff?

“If you touch her, I swear to you, I’ll gut you,” Kaz snarled. It wasn’t the smartest move. Now, there was no doubt that he cared. That they could use her against him.

“The Bastard of the Barrel does have a heart, eh?” Rowell sneered. His last encounter with the Razorgulls hadn’t ended as smoothly as he’d hoped. They’d gone searching on him. Trying to find–well he supposed they did–find leverage. They’d finally found Kaz Brekker’s weakness.

The words echoed through Kaz’s head. “Rowell, if you touch her, I can always pay a visit to Broad Street. I seem to recall that’s where your wife and daughter are? If I find out any of your men touched my healer, I’ll put a bullet in their heads myself.” He was good for it. Rowell knew it. He had never been above killing, and that was when he didn’t have something to lose.

Rowell’s face contorted in alarm. Kaz knew where his family was. Kaz had just as much leverage as he did. The only difference was Kaz was far more ruthless than Rowell ever imagined.

“You may think you’ve found my weakness, Rowell, and maybe you have, but you should know by now that I don’t respond well to threats. If you’re going to do something, do it. Otherwise don’t waste my time and your breath just telling me about it.” With that, Kaz began his trek back to the Slat. For the first time in quite a long time, he was scared. They could very well call his bluff. By this point, Rowell could have already gotten to her by now. He’d spent so much of his time focusing on protecting her from the Barrel, that he’d forgotten that association with Kaz Brekker was the biggest threat of all.

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It had been weeks since Rowell’s threat. He hadn’t taken it lightly. He didn’t think Rowell was brave enough to do anything, but if he’d noticed, it was only a matter of time before others would too, if they hadn’t already.

He’d decided to keep his distance. That was the only way he knew how to keep her safe. Kaz Brekker was the most feared man in the Barrel because he had nothing to lose. If it came out that he did in fact care for anything… well he had a lot of enemies that would waste no time doing everything in their power to take it from him.

He’d been avoiding her altogether. She was hurt. He knew that. It was better for her to be hurt than dead.

He was making his way up the stairs to his study, ready to shut himself for the night to plan for the upcoming job he’d secured. It was nothing big, probably him, Jesper, and a couple of the newer recruits for the Dregs. Test their loyalty before anything major.

He saw her near the bar talking to Jesper, laughing at something he’d said. He swiftly turned away. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Xavier (ironically one of the new recruits he was planning to take) grab at her waist. He was quite intoxicated, slurring a remark that he couldn’t hear, but was almost certainly derogatory. She politely pushed him aside, muttering a soft ‘no thank you’, but Xavier wasn’t taking no for an answer.

Kaz didn’t even have time to think, really. He didn’t have to think. It was instinct. He ignored the pain in his leg and crossed the room. He’d never been the biggest fan of Xavier, so he didn’t feel too guilty about the punch that landed on the boy’s jaw. His knuckles throbbed from the contact, but he ignored it. When Xavier offered to try and return the blow, Kaz dodged the jab and cracked his cane over his back.

“This is a respectable establishment, and that means when a woman says ‘no’ that’s the end of the discussion.”

Kaz avoided her gaze, and made his way up to his study, but he was followed.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” Kaz muttered, sitting in his chair, finally resting his leg.

“You’ve spent weeks acting like I don’t exist, and now you’re getting in bar fights to defend me? And what? You’re just going to go back to ignoring me?” She was hardly a confrontational person, so Kaz knew that she was angry by the sudden outburst. “I don’t get it. What did I do to make you decide that you hate me?”

Surely she didn’t really believe that he hated her. “I don’t hate you.” He still didn’t look up.

“So, what is it then?” She was blinking back tears. He felt guilty, a feeling that he didn’t even know he was capable of.

“You seriously don’t get it?”

“No, I don’t get it!” She shouted.

“I care about you!” He blurted. “Far more than I should.” His confession earned a scoff. “You don’t believe me?”

She raised her eyebrows. “No, I don’t believe you. Why would I?”

“Why? What would I possibly have to gain from lying to you about that?”

“I don’t know, but I never know anything with you!”

“Fine, if you don’t believe me, then go. If you think I’m lying then why are you still here?” He didn’t believe that she didn’t believe him. She wasn’t stupid. He knew she wasn’t.

“I just want to know why! Why have you been avoiding me?”

“I already told you the truth, so what do you want from me?” Kaz suddenly felt defensive. “I care about you, and people noticed. Rowell threatened you straight to my face, and I realized that if people thought that you meant anything to me, then they’d come after you. They’d kill you to get to me, and that can’t happen.”

“So, it was that easy then? You got scared that someone was going to come after me so you decided to just stop caring? That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard!”

“That is not what I said. What I said was that if they thought that you were important to me, they would come for you. I never said that meant I stopped caring.” Kaz huffed. “This is the only way that I can be sure you’re safe.”

“Did it ever occur to you that I have a stake in this too?” She was letting the tears fall freely now. “I don’t care who comes after me.”

“I can’t lose you.” Kaz shook his head.

“You don’t have to.”

“I can’t guarantee that people won’t come for you. I’m not sure if you noticed, but I haven’t exactly made a good reputation my priority.” Kaz attempted a joke, but really it served more as a warning. A glimpse into what being close to him would entail, which would mean always looking over your shoulder.

“Believe it or not, I have actually caught on to that part…” She let out a soft chuckle.

He reached up, brushing a stray piece of hair out of her face. He took the opportunity to rest his gloved hand on her cheek. He felt his body tense. His hand fell. Flashes of the nightmare that he’d endured. Jordie’s cold grey skin. The smell of waterlogged rotten flesh. It was as if he was back in the harbor. Surrounded by nothing but death and decay.

She seemed to notice his ordeal. Concern flashed through her eyes. “Are you feeling alright, Kaz?” He’d never told her about his brother. He’d never told anyone, really. As far as he was concerned, Kaz Rietveld had died in that harbor, but that wasn’t all true. If it had, he wouldn’t be damn near hyperventilating because he’d touched her. It was stupid. He was stupid. He couldn’t imagine what she was thinking. She probably thought he’d lost his mind.

“I think you need to rest,” she suggested. “I’ll run downstairs and grab you some water, I’ll be right-”

“No.” His voice came out hoarse.

“Kaz, you look like you’re about to pass out, I think you should drink something.”

“I want you to stay.” He sounded needy like a child and he hated it, but he also meant every word. “Please stay.” He grabbed her hand. Only this time, it was easier. He wasn’t thinking about death and despair. He wasn’t thinking about Jordie. He was thinking about her.

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker imagine #grishaverse #six of crows #imagine #fanfiction #Spotify

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shadesoflsk · 6 months

Text

EVERY STEP YOU TAKE !

ft. Leon Kennedy.

summary: just some headcanons about watching Leon age!

a/n: This came to me in a revelation. i just noticed that in some scenes, Leon's wrinkles would be even more noticeable. let it be his tough job or the fact that he's indeed "growing old", i wanted to write about Leon realizing the fact that time spares no one. Also, i had in mind re4 Leon turning into id leon ?? I know neither of them are really old, but yeah...

Can you actually read what's written in there? It all started as simple jokes and innocent teasing. You would often poke fun at your boyfriend for the way he's squinting his eyes while reading. He's still very young – 27 years got nothing on him – yet you found it so endearing to observe him while he pouted. Getting mad as your teasing words started.

He can't, thank you very much. He needs glasses, even though he keeps on denying it. He first noticed his little problem when he was reading a document, too focused on the tiny letters to even acknowledge the real meaning behind those words. Is that an a or an e? Dear God, this can't be happening, he thought. The world wasn't prepared to see him wearing glasses. Nor was he prepared for your endless teasing if he admitted it.

Baby blue eyes, Leon S. Kennedy! Or at least that's what you used to call him in the past. As years went on, some pet names were long forgotten. He has grown more serious and more cold but not less romantic. Yet he wasn't his past self who would blush if you called him baby. He likes reminiscing about the past – how he had a bright future. He still has, right? It is not like life is over.

However, life seemed so ridiculous as you stated that there were some faint wrinkles on his forehead. His hand unconsciously reaching for the skin there, feeling some lines. He just needs to moisturize or buy some serum for his skin. Life as an agent was tough – this was just dry skin you don't understand. Too many excuses for a man who is so sure that those lines are just a product of his exhausting job.

Don't look so mad! you often told him when you found his eyebrows doing the exact same thing during and after a gruesome mission. Being lowered and pulled together. He always had a resting bitch face that didn't match his own personality. He would try and not furrow his eyebrows as soon as you told him that expression would cause even more wrinkles to form.

After a year or so, he reluctantly admitted that yes, those were wrinkles. But that's not something bad. In fact, it was more than okay to age. He once read in a magazine that wrinkles served as a map of every journey and challenge he had faced. No, it isn't sappy. You're just jealous that his faint wrinkles look better on him than you.

But even though you kept on joking, he was grateful for growing old with you. You met him when he was a bright and young cop. Full of life and love to give. Now, you were standing next to him. Kissing his forehead and whispering sweet nothings, you promised him that you would always love him, even though he could barely walk in the future and even though their romantic dates would consist of feeding some pigeons and fighting nurses because you guys don't want to take your meds.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy headcanons #leon kennedy drabble #leon kennedy fluff

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shooting-love-arrows · 7 months

Note

Your aesthetic is just so beautiful dear!! i love how you organize everything, how pretty you write !!

Can i request maybe a yan! mortician? I don't really know the word in english waaa (⁠´⁠;⁠︵⁠;⁠`⁠)

kisses. mwah mwah take care of yourself ok?? 🎐

Dear Anon,

Thank you, dear. It’s really nice of you to say. Your english is very good so no need to worry. Sending you lots of kisses and thank you for the patience. P.S I’m reminding myself to drink water regularly :)

@shooting-love-arrows

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐍! 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍

PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 x reader [gender not mentioned/specified/implied] SYNOPSIS: General headcanons/some concerning habits of his. Tw. yandere walking red flag, creepy yandere, intentional poisoning, delusion, attachment issues (?), nudity but not nsfw.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Who treats you like a corpse rather than a living, breathing, human being. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 is so used to being surrounded by dead that sometimes he forgets you are in fact alive. It shows during those moments when he starts doing most simple things for you, like dressing you up before you wake up; when you stay still for to long, he’ll carry you around bridal style because he forgets that you can move on your own or forgets to prepare you a portion of food, because corpses don’t eat. Those moments scares you the most, because you’re never sure if he snaps out of it.

“Hm…? Oh dear…” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 muttered and tilted his head when he realized he’s been carrying you around the funeral parlor for a while. “It seems like I have done that again.” Not that he was complaining. After all, he’s got to hold you in his arms.

Who regularly poisons you. He adds small doses of the earlier crushed pills he originally brought in the pharmacy to your food. Just enough to make you sick, weak and confused. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 feels his heart squeezing painfully everytime time he sees you in this state but at the same time, he believes that what he's doing is for a good cause. You must stay in the house. It’s not safe in the stress! Not to mention those people who could harm you (or worse, take you away from him!). This just can’t and won’t happen. He’d rather be the one to bring harm to you and nurse you back to health. Your place is here, in your shared house, with him.

“It seems like you are ill again, sweetling. Lay down, you need rest.” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 proceeds to tuck you in and kiss your sweaty forehead lovingly. “Let me take care of you, sweetling. I will make everything better.” He whispered into your skin decorated with glistening pearls of sweat, smiling softly.

Who always has to carry a piece of you on him. He just can’t part with you. Be it before or after you’re officially his. He has a silver locket with a coil of your hair in it, a ribbon that fell out of your outfit tied around his wrist or a photo of you (especially the one he took of you). Those are few examples but anything that belongs to you he’ll gladly take to carry around. This way you can always be with him.

“What beautiful hair you have, sweetling.” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 laughed in glee. He was in his funeral parole, staring at the coil of your hair he secretly snipped off when you were asleep. It was placed neatly in a pure silver locker he always carried around his neck. “The prettiest.”

Who has a habit of photographing your nude body. It depends on his mood whether it’ll turn sexual or not, but what doesn’t change is that he’s always in awe of your body. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 saw many naked bodies, more or less beautiful. But you…you are perfect in every way. He feels like it’s his obligation to document that beauty. So usually, you’ll find yourself lying in the coffin panelled with silk, naked as the day you were born. And so the photo session continues. And when he’s done…? 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 will lean over you, looming like a grim reaper ready to whisk you away into the underworld, and whisper sweet nothings, prizes and compliments to you while his eyes admire every inch of your body.

“Keep still, sweetling.” 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐧 adjusted his trusty camera so it’ll focus on you. You kept shivering from the cold that keeps nipping at your skin. Not even the silk you were laying upon helped to ease your worries and shame for you had no choice but to be vulnerable and exposed towards your captor. “Perfect. Close your eyes and stay in this position.”

Who kisses the spot on your chest where your heart beats. It happens first thing in the morning and the last thing at night. When you’re laying in bed, in your nightclothes, he’ll lower the front of yours and gently place a kiss above your heart. He imagines that it’s his way of pouring his undying love straight into your heart. It always sends a pleasurable shiver down his spine.

“I was born to love you…” kiss “I am breathing for you…” kiss “I am living for you…” kiss

All of the published posts on this account/blog belongs to @shooting-love-arrows. I do not consent to my works being: translated, stolen, published or reposted on this and other sites. Likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreaciated. Thank you.

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alastor-simp · 9 months

Text

Dorm Leaders (minus Vil) reacting to the reader calling them Beautiful

I may be sick but my head is overflowing with writing ideas so I have to do this. I’m excluding Vil because Vil already knows he is beautiful, so all the Vil simps don't be upset ok. Enjoy :)

Riddle Rosehearts🍓

🍓"!?!?!!?!?!!" Riddle was left stunned at what you had said, and his hair strands jumped up in shock.

🍓Him? Beautiful? That word was never brought up whenever someone would talk about him or mention him. Riddle has been called many things like "smart", "talented", "strict", and cough cough "short" (even though he despises that word), but he has never been called beautiful before.

🍓After Riddle calmed down, he would look at you with judging eyes, most likely thinking you were joking and it was a prank suggested by Ace or Floyd, but as he kept looking into your kind eyes, he realized you meant it truly.

🍓Cue a blushing Riddle, as he looked away from you, embarrassed then looked back at you again: "You are very bold, Y/N. Most people are afraid to say anything to me, yet here you are, casually calling me beautiful."

🍓If you tell Riddle, you will never be afraid of him and will always find him beautiful, yelp good job, you just broke Riddle, as he will turn red all the way up to his ears and neck, and his eyes will become watery, as he will be feeling emotional from your sweet comment.

🍓Everyone in Heartslabyul will notice that Riddle will be in a joyful mood the day after you called him beautiful. He will be smiling more and be less strict with the rules. Heck he even let Ace go with just a warning, instead of collaring him.

Leona Kingscholar🦁

🦁You and Leona were both hanging out near a tree in the botanical gardens, with you reading a book for class and Leona sleeping next to you. As you gazed at Leona's peaceful face, you called him beautiful then went back to reading your book.

🦁Well that woke up Leona from his nap. Leona eyes both opened up in shock and he glanced towards you, not expecting, you the Herbivore, to call him beautiful.

🦁The smirk on Leona's face will be huge, as he reached his hand towards your face, moving your head for you to look at him. "Heh, you expecting to butter me up with compliments, Herbivore? You just calling me that so I can help you with your assignments."

🦁Shaking your head, you told Leona that you were stating a fact and that he really was beautiful. You even said that you found him very beautiful the day you stepped on his tail, yet you didn't say it out loud.

🦁This mans ego was already big to begin with, and you had succeeded in making it even bigger. Leona still had that smirk on his face, but his face was slightly flushed and he was giving you bedroom eyes.

🦁Leona quickly got up off the ground, grabbed you while flinging you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and began speed running back to his dorm. Good job Y/N, you have woken the beast and he was going to take his time with you and expects to hear more compliments about how beautiful he is.

Azul Ashengrotto🐙

🐙"CRACK!" Azul glasses had broke the minute you said that comment to Azul as both him and apparently his glasses were in shock from your comment.

🐙Azul was just on his desk, finishing some documents, and you had just walked into the room to give him some tea and then all of a sudden, said that to him.

🐙Azul immediately didn't believe the word that came out of your mouth. He honestly thought the twins had set you up to this as a way to mess with him. Feelings of insecurity began to rise in Azul as he told you not to lie to him, as he was never called beautiful once in his life, especially to how he was bullied during childhood due to how he looked.

🐙You told Azul that you don't joke about stuff like this, as you walk over towards Azul and place your hand on his cheek. You tell Azul that he is beautiful, including his merman form, and he shouldn't believe the hurtful things that he was called in the past.

🐙Azul started to sob uncontrollably at your kind words, as he moved closer towards you and pulled you into a hug, with his head on your chest. Your words had a big impact on Azul as he slowly started to build confidence and appreciate his merform a bit more instead of hating it.

Kalim Al-Asim☀️

☀️"OH THANK YOU Y/N!! YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL TOO!"

☀️Kalim wasn't really fazed by your compliment as he always complimented everyone he met, so it didn't come as much of a shock when you called him beautiful.

☀️Still this adorable sunshine boy was very happy and gave you a giant bear hug, and offered to give you a ride on his magic carpet.

☀️You accepted the offer and both you and Kalim flew around Scarabia. After a while, the both of you stayed on the magic carpet and just hovered above while looking up at the starry sky.

☀️Kalim turned towards you and noticed you were staring at him and he asked what was wrong. Feeling shy, you turned your head away and apologized saying you were staring at him cause he was really beautiful

☀️He blushed this time and felt butterflies in his stomach. Kalim was starting to realized that you calling him that made his heart ache. He hugged you again and gave you many smooches on your face.

Idia Shroud🎮

🎮 “CRITICAL HIT!!!!!!!” Idia had literally clutched his chest and collapsed from his bed in utter shock

🎮you were in Idias room, watching him during one of his gaming streams. You liked watching him play in person because you get to see many of his expressions especially his smile which he didn’t always do, and you found his smile very beautiful, but you had accidentally said that out loud in front of him and he had heard you

🎮 “NANI?!? NANI NANI?!?!?!? THEY CALLED ME BEAUTIFUL?!?!?!? OMG THIS IS LIKE THE SCENE FROM AN ANIME WHERE THE UNPOPULAR GUY GETS ASKED OUT BY HIS CRUSH?!?!? THIS CAN’T BE HAPPENING RIGHT NOW!!!”

🎮Idia’s mind was racing a thousand thoughts a second, but he eventually snapped out of it when you had tapped one of his legs that was still dangling on the bed, asking him if he was ok

🎮Idia got up slowly like a zombie and sat back down on his bed, cross-crossing his legs while pulling his hoodie up over his head, hiding his face from you. “P-player 2. You can’t be serious. Me? B-b-beautiful? No way.”

🎮Heaving a sigh, you grabbed Idia’s face and told him to look up at you. Shocked, Idia looked up at you, not expecting you to touch him like that. You began complimenting his hair, his face, his smile, his voice and you go on to tell him that he can keep denying he is beautiful but you will continue to call him that no matter what.

🎮His neon blue fire hair started to glow bright pink, as his heart began to skip a beat at your words. You smiled at him and wrapped your arms around him in a hug. Idia stayed still like a statue, but he slowly melted into your hug and gave you a quiet “thank you.”

Malleus Draconia🐲

🐲 “…..” Malleus was left baffled by your words. The both of you were strolling near an abandoned building, observing the structure and admiring the gargoyles. Malleus was going on and on, taking about how beautiful they were and you had agreed with him, while also saying he was too

🐲Malleus was a crowned prince and also one of the strongest mages in the world, so he is often feared by others for his magic and intimidating aura, but then you, a magicless human, who had just arrived to this world out of nowhere, called him beautiful, without any fear or hesitation

🐲Silence filled the air, as both you and Malleus stared at each other, until you broke it and looked away from Malleus, embarrassed at having said that, but you turned back to Malleus in shock as he started laughing

🐲 “Hahaha, Child of Man, you are a strange one indeed. Never has someone called me beautiful before. It is a very odd feeling, but I don’t detest it. Thank you.” Malleus made his way closer towards you and patted your head, smiling kindly at you.

🐲Blushing, you looked back at Malleus with a smile and said your welcome. Malleus continued to gaze at you with loving eyes, as he leaned closer and gave you a kiss on the forehead, and then he disappeared, leaving behind glowing fireflies.

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sstormyskyess · 6 months

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omg 16 with poly tf141 would be the greatest thing ever reader brings not one, not two, but four huge beefcakes home to their shitty families holiday party that they only throw to show off their fancy house and shitty interior design, I know that probably wasn't the original idea of the prompt but if you're interested I'd love to see you write it thank you!

Family Affairs

author's note: i actually got to pull from personal experience with this one tbh, i’m gonna have to go to a party like this near the end of the year. unfortunately, i don’t have four beefcakes to bring with me 😔 at least i can imagine it though! thank you for the request, hope you enjoy!!

cw: poly tf 141, general fluffy stuff, reader has a big family [just like me, i have 14 members in my extended family just on my dad’s side]

word count: 1800+

TF-141 x GN!Reader

You groan, burying your face in your hands. You were hoping, praying that you weren't going to get that one little text message that always spelled disaster no matter when it came across your phone screen. It had been a good run, too; you hadn’t suffered this fate in a good few years. But, apparently that winning streak was too good to be true.

You look at the notification on your screen again, re-reading it for about the third time. ‘We hope to see you at the party this year! P.S., please bring your boyfriend along this time, your aunt won’t drop it,’ the message from your mom read. Boyfriend. Little did she know, you in fact had four boyfriends, none of which had met your frustratingly nosy family.

Speak of the devil—or, one of them at least—John walks into the common area, a stack of papers in his hand. “Morning, love.” He shoots you a smile before focusing his attention back on the documents he was scanning. “What’s on your mind?” He takes a seat in the chair opposite you, leaning back and crossing his legs, one ankle on the other leg’s knee.

You think for a bit before sighing. “Off-base things. Family stuff.” It’s clear he was unsatisfied with your vague answer when he met your eyes with a raised brow. You huff, knowing you wouldn’t get away with dancing around the issue for even a moment. “My mom wants me to bring a boyfriend back for my aunt’s holiday party.”

John continues to look at you, his air gone from stern to confused within a second. “You do have a boyfriend. Four of them, actually.” He tilts his head as he states the obvious. You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “I know that. I just don’t wanna subject any of you to the torture that is being at those pointless parties.”

He just smiles at you again, his eyes returning to whatever was on the papers in his lap. “Maybe we’ll make it better for you. I’m sure the rest of our boys will be glad to accompany you.”

You chew the inside of your cheek, thinking about the prospect. Frankly, it did sound like a good idea on the surface; it would be nice to spend some down time with all the people you love, after all. After another few moments of thought, you nod and stand up from your chair. “You’ve got a point. I’ll go talk to the others, then—see if they’ll be able to come with us.”

John hums in approval, catching your wrist as you walk past toward the door. “Hey. Come here.” You smile, leaning down to kiss him and appreciating the feeling of John’s hand coming up to the nape of your neck, his fingers rubbing a loose circle on your skin. “Things will be fine, darling,” he says after pulling away. “Don’t worry.”

A deep sense of dread starts to build inside of you as your mini convoy starts to approach your aunt’s house, which is technically more like a mansion based on the size of it. It had already set in the moment Simon convinced the others to let him drive. Yes, he got you to your destination way faster than any of the others would, but that was only because he drives like a maniac.

The dread slowly developing wasn’t caused by Simon almost getting everyone into a wreck at least two or three times, though. It was caused by the fact that you could already see your family’s cars lined up along the road and sitting in the driveway, memories of past parties flooding your head.

Kyle beside you must notice the way you’ve started shrinking into yourself and he wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you close to kiss you on the cheek. “I’m excited to meet your family, sweetheart.” An underlying joy is hidden in his voice, which brings a small smile to your face. “You sure?” You chuckle, leaning into him. “They can be a lot.”

“I’ve dealt with worse, no need to worry.” He ensures you, pressing a couple more kisses to your temple and your forehead. Your cheeks warm and you push his face away. “Stop it,” you say playfully.

Johnny helps you out of the car and wraps an arm around your waist when Ghost pulls over to park his car on the side of the street. “Who do you think is gonna be the favorite?” He asks with a grin on his face. You hum, tapping your chin and feigning deep thought. “Probably John. And not you, the responsible John.”

Johnny scoffs, dramatically putting a hand over his heart. “I am responsible! Can’t believe you would say such a thing!” You simply pull him closer and kiss him on the cheek, giggling under your breath. “I’m sorry, baby. Please forgive me—” You’re cut off by him giving you a big kiss on the lips. “Fine, you’re forgiven.” He gives you his bright smile, the one that reaches his eyes and crinkles the corners of them.

Simon walks past and tugs on Johnny’s sleeve, pulling him forward. “Get moving, Johnny.” He grunts, dragging him along and taking you with him in turn.”We’re coming, we’re coming,” Johnny huffs.

You take a deep breath once you reach the front door of your aunt’s house, amping yourself up to face the music head-on. You feel John’s comforting hand between your shoulder blades and you smile, his silent support soothing your nerves and giving you the courage to ring the doorbell, officially sealing your fate. No going back now.

Surprisingly, the night was actually going well. Just like John said, being able to sit in-between two of your ruggedly handsome partners while the other two were pulling your aunt’s attention away from you was massively more comfortable compared to your other experiences in this house.

Johnny and Simon, seated next to you on either side, chatted with a couple members of your extended family while Kyle was off in the kitchen making a plate of hors d'oeuvres for you, and John was busy entertaining your aunt and mother with various war stories from his yesteryears. It seemed like everyone was having a blast, their easy smiles contagious.

You look up when Kyle sits in the armchair next to the loveseat you, Simon and Johnny were posted up on. You grin when he presents you with a small plate full of various meats and cheeses. He kisses your hand as you reach over and take the plate from him, making your face heat up. You shoot him a pointed look, but he flashes his pretty smile in return. You can’t possibly stay mad at that smile—I mean, have you seen it? You just shake your head, unable to mask the flustered look on your face.

Your grandmother looks away from her conversation with Johnny and turns her attention to Kyle. “Oh my! Who’s this lovely young man?” She listens intently as he introduces himself and then starts up her usual questioning whenever one of her grandbabies brought someone to meet the family.

You let out a long sigh, your senses already getting overwhelmed after the past hour or so of entertaining the party with your boys. You start to pick at your hors d'oeuvres, building a little stack of what looked like some sort of salami and a piece of cheese on a cracker, popping it in your mouth.

Simon’s hand comes into your downturned gaze and rests on your leg, giving it a firm yet gentle squeeze, a silent check-in. You cover his hand with yours, looking up at him and smiling, effectively quelling his concerns. He nods and intertwines his fingers with yours, an affectionate glint in his gaze. You return the look wholeheartedly and let him pull his hand away to rest in his lap.

You glance up when you hear your name being called across the room and see John and your mother looking over at you. She beckons you over and you sigh, standing up and starting to head over to the two of them. You jump when Johnny’s hand pats the back of your thigh a couple times, smirking up at you. You roll your eyes and mutter a quiet ‘stop that,’ trying to hide the fact that your heart skipped a beat at the smug look on his face.

John wraps an arm around your waist once you get close enough, his hand petting up and down your side. “Your mother wants to know how we met,” he explains. Your mother pipes up, “I also want to know why you were hiding these lovely men from the family for so long.” She gives you a look. The look. You groan, running a hand over your face. “Of course, mom.”

“I’ve no idea why you were so worried about tonight, bonnie. It was perfectly fine!” Johnny pulls you down to the couch in the living room of the house you and the others had bought recently, his arms tight around you. He held you in place to pepper kisses all over your face. You try to push his face away so you can actually respond to his comment; the effort was futile, but after a few pushes he pulls away on his own. “It seems like they were on their best behavior since you four showed up with me. You’re all pretty imposing, to be fair,” you say, leaning back against Johnny’s chest.

Simon walks in with a handful of mugs filled with warm spiced apple cider, passing them around the room and then sitting in his armchair, his legs crossed loosely. He notices your eyes on him and raises a brow. “You talking about me?” You laugh and shake your head. “Not just you, silly.”

Kyle catches the tail end of the conversation after coming downstairs in his lounging clothes, sitting next to John on the loveseat opposite the couch Johnny had you buried in. “I’m sure it was mostly you, Simon.” He grins, leaning into John’s side. You roll your eyes. “Well, I’m sure most of my family was intimidated by your dashingly handsome looks, good sir.”

John rests his arm on the back of the couch, his fingers playing with the hair on the back of Kyle’s neck. “That’s a good point, darling,” he smirks, taking note of the bashful look that crosses Kyle’s features. He hides his smile by taking a sip from his mug.

“Hopefully your family feels a bit more comfortable around us next year, yeah?” John takes a sip of cider from his own mug, before setting it down on the coffee table and picking up the remote to put something on the TV, probably some shitty holiday movie. The exact kind that he likes.

You hum and hold your warmed up mug in your lap, happily cuddling up with Johnny. “Yeah, hopefully.” There’s a brief pause before you realize what he just said and the implications of it. “Wait—next year?” And once again, that signature sense of dread hits you and you groan, knowing you wouldn’t be able to convince him otherwise.

𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

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the-one-that-weeps · 3 months

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Can we appreciate crows for a moment? They're basically like monkeys with feathers, we should talk about them more.

(Aka: A highly indulgent list of crow facts!)

🐦‍⬛ Crows live in colonies of 15-20 birds (called murders). That doesn't mean they're not menaces to society. For example; they frequently steal from their neighbours nests.

🪶 They're also quite prone to love triangles, since they mate for life. However, they do not fight often. There are quite a few cases of possible polyamorous relationships among these birds: they share nests and all help feed the little chicks.

🐦‍⬛ Speaking of little crows, even when they reach the age where they have to leave the nest and can feed themselves, they still persecute and annoy their parents to feed them. They can also "play sick" as a joke.

🪶 Crows usually eat vegetables, fruits or nuts as their main diet, but these rascals can actually eat whatever it is that falls into their beaks. There's a documented case where one feathery menace chugged A WHOLE PAIN POT.

🐦‍⬛ While the community of crows eats, one or two crows sit on a tree and observe around 800 metres (2,624ft) of area in order to inform their team of possible danger.

🪶 Crow communities defend each other against predators and mourn their losses together.

🐦‍⬛ They can fly at a speed of 60km/h (37 mph)

🪶 They live up to 25 years in nature.

🐦‍⬛ They can literally knock out their prey by hitting them with their beaks.

🪶 They're also very playful creatures! They can play hide and seek, where a crow hides and calls their community for help repeatedly until they're found.

🐦‍⬛ Naturalist Henry Ward Beecher documented a woman with a domesticated crow who cleaned worms before eating them.

🪶 Crows know how to talk. They can repeat almost 100 words or phrases.

🐦‍⬛ Some crows that live in rural American states have been documented to use cattle to rest themselves on them and potentially use them as transport. They were also said to shout "Yee haw" when they rode horses. They implement this kind of transport into hunting as well.

🪶 They can also imitate sounds like barks, tweets of other birds, or whatever it is that a chicken does.

🐦‍⬛ Naturalist William Crowder had a crow that got into the habit of playing with MATCHES in the KITCHEN.

🪶 Another crow was said to be able to PICK POCKET PEOPLE and when he didn't find anything he shouted "GO TO HELL!" and fleed.

🐦‍⬛ ^ this is a caramel crow. No it's not albino. It looks very sick though (and not in the literal sense)

Now I kinda want to have one as my familiar tbh.

#witchblr #corvid #crow #crows #ravens #birds #birdposting #ohhh look it's hoc posting on witchblr #cry about it it'll happen again.#witch #mine ☜#bramble rambles

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solomons-finest-rum · 10 months

Text

“As The Crow Flies” (Alfie Solomons x fem!Reader) — PART 2

SUMMARY — By all accounts Anna Gray died in Australia and had no business standing in Alfie’s living room, nor calling the man “darling” for that matter. But there you were, identical to the picture they took when they shipped you off to the colonies.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Thank you to everyone for words of encouragement and for waiting for the update 💗💗💗💗💗 Goodness, that was one hefty break. I hope the next part won't take me as much, but I can't exactly promise it will be fast, sorry about that. I think this is a part 2 out of 3 and then I'll do an epilogue, but that is still more of a draft than a plan.

WORD COUNT — 2,708

Masterlist

Tommy sat beside Polly in utter silence, watching the cigarette slowly burn between her fingers to the point where the heat nearly touched the skin. Tommy observed it with morbid fascination because it was something other to do than to stay with his own thoughts. And he would not dare to speak to Polly first—not after the news he had brought her this evening.

The clock chiming in the hall let them know it was nearly three o’clock in the morning, but still neither of them moved. The fire went out long ago and Tommy wondered in his solemn silence if Polly would accept a blanket.

“How could you tell me she was dead?” Polly suddenly asked the question Tommy had been dreading for the past hour and then she flicked the cigarette butt straight on the carpet.

Tommy dared to look her in the eye then and immediately regretted that decision when he was met with nothing but hurt and steel-like anger.

“They told me she was, Pol. I went to the parish myself, saw the documents myself,” Tommy replied calmly.

That signature state of calm didn’t come to him as quickly as it used to, he noticed. These days it required more and more effort; or perhaps the things he chose to do got worse with time.

“Fucking nuns,” Polly hissed and shook her head. “You should have pressed them harder! Should’ve made them talk!”

“Then what, hm? Threaten them? Put a gun to their head, eh? There was nothing else they would have told me, Pol, they didn’t know.”

“I don’t care what! We shouldn’t have just abandoned her like that. Now look what happened, she’s a hostage with another fucking monster, just ready to put his paws on her whenever he pleases!” Polly stood up abruptly and Tommy wondered for a moment if perhaps he shouldn’t slip some laudanum in her drink. She looked frenzied, her hair in disarray and eyes bloodshot. The way Tommy saw it, she was half-ready to walk to Margate on foot and kill Alfie herself.

“Polly,” Tommy moved to stand in front of her just in case she had any ideas. He put both hands on her shoulders to reassure her. “Polly, look at me. Alfie Solomons, yeah? Alfie Solomons is just about the last man you’d find putting his hands on anybody that didn’t ask for it, all right? I swear this much.”

“Jesus, I don’t care what you swear anymore, Tommy!” Polly scoffed and tore herself away. “The man is insane, you said so yourself—many times in fact! We all remember what he did to Arthur! Or have you forgotten?!”

“No,” Tommy replied stiffly. “Perhaps he’s insane, but he’s not cruel to women, Polly, never has been. He doesn’t have the reputation.”

“Well, neither do you, that doesn’t mean one wife’s not buried, the other’s escaped!”

Though Tommy would never admit it, that hurt immensely. That was the problem with people who loved him, he supposed. They knew exactly where to hit to draw the most blood. He willed his face to return to the stony mask it was before.

“But your daughter is not buried and she isn’t gone,” he said. “She’s alive, Pol, I saw her with my own two eyes. She’s alive and we can get her back.”

“Well, that’s not exactly possible now, is it?” she scoffed and turned her gaze back to the fireplace as if some ghostly apparition beckoned her to it. “You said she didn’t know you, I bet that fucking animal has her caged.”

“That’s not true. I saw her, Pol, she looked well.” Tommy felt like stressing that might help. “She has your eyes and your wit and I swear she cooks somethin’ awful, but she’s no prisoner. Alfie is…” He hesitated then, because it wasn’t exactly a comfortable thought to consider. “She’s got him wrapped around her little finger, Pol. You can’t say no to her, eh? Just like I can’t exactly argue with you neither.”

That brought Polly back, even if just to glare at her nephew with fury.

“Pol, I swore to you once I’d bring your children home and I haven’t changed my mind.” Tommy took her hand in his and to his relief this time Polly didn’t pull away.

“I don’t think Alfie harmed her,” he insisted. “I don’t think she’d let him. Polly, she looked tough. Hardened by life. She’s a woman grown, Pol, and I know she can take care of herself. You said so yourself, eh? It’s grandfather’s gift, reading people. Well, I read her tonight and I know Alfie, too. Something happened to her, that much’s clear, but there’s nothin’ evil happenin’ to her in that house.”

That seemed to satisfy his aunt because she finally took a deep breath that actually made Tommy feel like he could breath himself.

“Why would he tell you to lie to me, Tommy?”

“How do you mean?”

“Why would he think you wouldn’t tell me? That you’d play his game.”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “But I know what he wants in return and to be honest his plan wasn’t as delirious as I’d take him for.”

“I don’t care what you discussed with that man, that’s of little consequence,” Polly scoffed. “We are going to get her and we are going to get rid of him once and for all, Thomas, because no one fucks with the Peaky fuckin’ Blinders and no one fucks with the family! Do you hear me?!”

“I hear you.”

“Good. Now get up!”

“So we’re goin’ today?”

“Today!”

Tommy nodded and gently navigated her back into the armchair. He rang the bell for the maid. In the agitated state Polly’s house was currently in, Tommy was sure the servants weren’t really sleeping.

“And get Michael,” she ordered. “I don’t care what that peroxide tramp says about it, he’s coming with us.”

Alfie stood on the porch and smoked his pipe. He let you squeeze his arm in anger while trying to sneak concerned glances in your general direction. Tired of being treated like a spooked horse, you glared at him until he stopped with all the concern. You were tougher than you looked and you would very much appreciate it if Alfie finally admitted it.

“You alright?” Alfie asked you for what must have been the twentieth time and you nodded stiffly instead of a reply.

“Darlin’, I mean it, all right, ‘cause if you ain’t tryin’ to make me bloody worried then you’re doin’ a splendid job regardless, yeah?”

“Shut up.”

“Right, that’s just fuckin’ uncalled for, that…”

“No. Someone’s coming.”

You pointed then to the faint shapes on the horizon, which, judging by the noise, must have been the Shelby Bentleys.

“Get the binoculars, Alfie.”

“I’ll get the fuckin’ shotgun is what I’ll get.”

“Alfie.”

“I’ll do as I damn well please in my own house, woman!”

“So your brilliant means of operation is just bullets, is that it? What the hell did you expect, that Tommy would just listen to you?”

There was a clear measure of challenge in your words and all you two did then was just size each other up, trying to see who would call the bluff first. Finally, your husband grumbled his best catalogue of swear words and brought you the binoculars you asked for.

“It’s the Shelbys,” you confirmed.

“Like clockwork, that lot,” Alfie scoffed. “You tell them one thing, they go the opposite fuckin’ direction.”

“Some clock that’d be,” you chuckled. “We knew they’d come. That’s why we’re here.”

“Don’t get smart with me.”

The pipe now abandoned, Alfie checked the barrel of his favourite handgun and reassured himself with the number. The only problem was the Shelby threat looming on the horizon and what looked like three cars, no doubt packed to the brim with Tommy’s henchmen.

“And you’re certain he will help us?” you asked.

“‘Course. Like I said before, right, Tommy’s nothin’ if not reliable.”

“That’s quite generous coming from you.”

“Just ‘cause he shot me doesn’t mean we ain’t kin now.”

“I am many things, dearest, but a Shelby isn’t one of them.”

“Ah, well, too bad. And too late to call the cavalry off, I reckon. If ya changed your mind…”

“That’s not what I meant.” It was your time to scoff. “These people are not my family. You are.”

On a rare occasion when Alfie Solomons found himself something close to emotional, three black Bentleys finally arrived at the quaint Margate cottage. You instinctively grabbed your husband’s arm again. He didn’t flinch, not even when you dug your nails into the skin, hard enough to draw blood.

“Right, gentlemen! And lady. What a lovely surprise, innit.” Alfie beckoned with his other hand, waving the gun about and leaving very little doubt as to the quickness of change in his intentions were the Shelbys not to play along. “Let me simply say: shalom… All right. Welcome. Yeah, that is the message for today, or so one might hope.”

What would undoubtedly be another inspired monologue had to wait, however. As soon as Tommy escorted Polly out of the car and her eyes met her daughter’s, Polly’s knees gave out. Tommy and Arthur caught her just in time and held her up on both sides.

“Anna!” Polly cried. “Oh dear God, it’s really you! Anna!”

You stood still like a statue, at which point even your husband turned to look at you with a mix of concern and fascination. You let go of his arm and focused on Tommy.

“Mr. Shelby. You brought an army this time. Am I to expect a shootout?”

As cold and unmoved as Tommy tried to be, it proved to be hard with a sobbing woman on his arm.

“Or am I to understand you’re here to kidnap me?” you pressed. “Please don’t say my chicken was that spectacular, I won’t believe it.”

“Anna.” Polly squeezed Tommy’s arm and took a step forward. Alfie uncocked his gun. You sighed and wished he hadn’t, since the entire Shelby ensemble now followed with the same.

“What the fuck is the matter with you, you fools! Put the bloody guns down!” Polly seethed and marched towards the house with a newfound purpose in her step. “Anna. Come down from there. You’re coming home with us.”

You looked at the woman you knew was your mother, though now only by name. Your heart didn’t know her and your head was too preoccupied to care.

“That might pose an issue,” you answered. “Because I am home.”

The next person that got out of the car, however, seemed to finally make you shake off your stony demeanour. You couldn’t quite help it, because his face was the first you could actually say was known to you.

“Michael!” you whispered and then rushed down from the porch before anyone could stop you. “Oh dear God, you’re alive!”

You fell into your brother’s steady embrace and though the force of it nearly made him stumble, he held you firmly and wouldn’t let go—not even if the devil himself tried to claim you both again.

The tearful reunion was so quiet that no one apart from you and Michael could know what words were exchanged. While the Shelbys weren’t exactly the type to interrupt, you could tell that Alfie was out of patience.

“Are we just about finished, then?” he inquired. “Forgive the interruption, yeah, but it’s gettin’ li’l too chilly for my taste.”

Polly took that opportunity to point her gun directly at Alfie’s head.

“Now then, madam,” Alfie chuckled and stood his ground, though he didn’t raise the gun he was holding. “I’d only ask ya to aim better than your nephew, all right, ‘cause I can’t exactly take no more of this.” He pointed to the injured side of his face. “Once was enough, yeah, so if you’re certain that’s what ya wanna do, I won’t stop ya.”

“Shut your mouth,” Polly hissed. “You shut your mouth!”

“Polly.” Tommy took a step towards them. His voice was full of warning and he ordered his men to stand down with a single wave of his hand. “Polly, think about what we’re doin’ here, all right? We came to get your daughter,” he turned to point at you, who now looked toward her husband with a horrified expression. “She’s safe now, Polly, we can take her home. There’s no need for violence, Pol, not today.”

“Like hell you will!” you protested. “Can you stop talking about me like I’m not even here?! No one’s taking me anywhere.”

“Now then, Tommy,” Alfie sighed. “There I was, mate, thinkin’ we had an understandin’, you an’ I. After all these years of friendship, right, you come to my house, guns blazin’, and with your lovely aunt no less, all in pursuit of justice I can’t exactly give, mate, ‘cause I ain’t the one who took Anna away in the first place. So…”

To everyone’s surprise Alfie turned his back to Polly and opened the front door as casually as one might when having a gun pointed at you turns into something of a daily occurrence.

“Might I offer you a drink then, uh, Polly, is it? Right, lemme just say that, yeah, I ain’t exactly one for close family ties, you see, that’s just not somethin’ I was brought up with…”

Alfie’s voice disappeared somewhat as he walked further into the house, completely ignoring the chaos on the porch. You tried to rush back towards the house and stomped on Michael’s foot with all your might when he wouldn’t let you go. Michael roared with pain and you took your chance to run, but this time it was Arthur who stopped you and who, all things considered, presented a much sturdier guard than your brother.

“You let me through,” you hissed.

“Nah, I don’t think so, luv. You’re comin’ with us.”

“Like hell I am!”

Polly, still stunned, turned towards her children and lowered her gun, creating an opportunity for Tommy to catch up with her and take it out of her hands.

“Not today,” he repeated softly. “There’ll be time for vengeance and there’ll be time for justice. But not here, Pol, not now. Arthur, let Anna pass.”

Polly shook her head and spat on the bluish tiles of the porch, thoroughly worn out and bleached by the seaside air. Only then did she notice the curious mosaic right before the front door and the gentle arch forming the words “lethe”.

“I’m not leaving without her, Tommy,” she warned.

“I know you’re not.”

Out of options and out of bullets, Polly crossed the threshold and she hoped the choice would truly erase the anguish from her memory—if only for a moment.

Alfie’s gambit must have been exactly that from the start, Tommy mused, because as soon as the rest of the Shelby clan entered the house, they were welcomed by the maid with a tea tray. Alfie, now comfortable in his usual armchair, gestured for his guests to sit.

Judging by his calm and calculated demeanour, Tommy doubted him and his family had been so unexpected. In fact, he just about acknowledged he had let himself be manipulated not once but twice in what was perhaps the strangest forty-eight hours in a long time.

“Right, now, we don’t know each other well so I don’t know exactly what everyone drinks…” Alfie waved at the maid dismissively and she started to serve the tea as if it was any other ordinary occasion. “Feel free to peruse the bar if you so prefer, Tommy, right, but not you.” Alfie settled his only seeing eye on Arthur, though the elder Shelby brother didn’t seem as prone to anger as Alfie remembered. That was almost disappointing.

You entered the house last, holding your brother’s hand. Michael smiled down at you fondly as if you hadn’t just caused him severe bodily harm. Tommy and Alfie both noted the scene, though neither exactly for the same reasons. Alfie looked just about done tolerating all that whispering between you and your brother and it seemed so was Tommy.

Though neither, exactly, for the same reasons.

“Right then,” Alfie announced. “Should we discuss the terms?”

#peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons imagine #tom hardy fanfic #tom hardy imagine #tom hardy x reader

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russellsppttemplates · 9 months

Text

Trust me (Lance Stroll)

Lance's recovery plan after his mountain biking accident leaves you even more concerned

Note: english is not my first language. Here's another piece to help complete my mission of including Lance pieces in my masterlist!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: Lance's mountain biking accident, mentions of hospital setting and recovery

"Are you sure you don't want to join us?", Lance asked one last time, checking if he had everything they would need, "I have some stuff from work to do, and besides, mountain biking isn't really my thing", you shrugged, not feeling too bad that you were missing the activity.

"Alright then, if you need anything, just call me, okay?", your boyfriend noted, kissing your forehead before he walked out of the door, "be safe, guys!", you yelled before the door closed.

Through the wonders of remote work and your job, you found a way of spending some of Lance's time off the races with him, and when he suggested that you should join for him trip to Spain before the season began, you only had to arrange a few things around to be able to join him.

It was supposed to, despite the fact that you were still working, a relaxing time and a needed change of scenery. And was it a change of scenery indeed when you got a call saying that Lance had been injured and was being taken to the hospital by the emergency team. You packed all the documents you could think of and made your way to the hospital, thumbs fiddling with one another since you had yet to understand the extent of your boyfriend's injuries.

Sitting in the waiting room, your foot tapped o the clean grey floor, your eyes moving to the double doors everytime a health professional walked out, hoping they would come looking for you and take to see your boyfriend with an update on his health status. His trainer was with him and he had been the one to text you briefly about what had happened and the hospital he had been taken to, but once they went into the examination room, he had grown quiet and his messages had ceased, until a brief one stating that someone would be coming to bring you in as Lance had finished his medical exams.

A young doctor came to you, presenting himself and explaining to you a brief outline of what happened, as far as he was aware, and what the medical team had been doing given the concerns and problems that arised. While you were not a medical expert, Grey's Anatomy was your comfort show and the amount of exams and the words you recognised meant that your boyfriend had been way more serious than you had hoped.

Entering the room, your eyes flew immediately to Lance, seeing his bandaged up wrists and some of the same material around on his right toes, "hey, you", he said, eyes droopy from what you can imagine was a mix of medication for the pain and also from the steong lights and the fuss around him, "hello, my love", you said, looking at the nurse taking notes on her iPad in a way to ask for his permission to approach your boyfriend, "how are you feeling?", you asked, him, your hand touching his cheek softly, afraid of touching somewhere where it would cause more damage.

"I'm a bit uncomfortable from the pain, but it's manageable", he smiled a tight lipped one, looking at the doctos who were discussing some of the films and scan images, "it seems that Lance has a fracture and displacement in his right wrist, a fracture in his left wrist. We also see what looks to be a partial fracture in his left hand", the doctor said, showing the scans, "and another fracture in the big toe on his right foot", he finished.

"And is there a plan for it?", Lance asked, "the season is starting in two weeks", Lance noted.

"You said testing is next week? So from the 23 to the 25?", the doctor asked, "yes, and the first race is on the 5th", he trainer added, looking at the calendar on his phone.

The doctor was silent for a bit before he excused himself, looking at the scans and discussing a few points with his colleagues while you looked at Lance, sensing his mind was filling with negative thoughts and pressures about his recovery already, "I can only imagine how scary this is, but you'll be alright, okay? We'll do everything we can to get you better as soon as possible", you tried your best to reassure him despite the heavy feeling in your chest.

"Our opinion, and this comes from having participated in many cases where the injuries were sinilar", Dr. Javier Mir explained, "is that the timeline for testing is, unfortunately, not enough for everything to heal like we would like", he stated, "and, realistically, I would count that you miss the first few races", he finished.

After informing that they were going to have a meeting to discuss the surgical plans, Lance's trainer left to call the Aston Martin health professionals to catch them up with the situation, leaving you and Lance alone in the hospital room, "are you feeling any pain? I'm sure we can get the nurse to kick these up", you pointed to the IV bag next to you, "I'm good, I just feel a little pressure on my wrists, nothing more", he tried his best to smile, wanting to see you ease too, "I'm sorry this happened, my love", you tempted, seeing him pucker his lips and welcoming his to touch your own lips, craddling his face and taking the opportunity to scratch his cheeks, thumbs rubbing the skin.

The next day began with Lance getting ready to go up to surgery on his right wrist, "I'll be here when you wake up", you smiled, kissing his forehead before they wheeled him up, "try and get some sleep, yes, darling? I know you haven't slept all that well", he winked, "I love you".

While Lance was in surgery, you kept texting his family, trying your best to be a calming and sure figure and also answering their questions and updating them on how everything was going, "is he okay? Given everything, that is...", Chloe said during the videocall, "he's handling it, I guess. He's obviously disappointed that this has happened, and that this has happened so close to the beggining of the season", you offered, "but he's keeping to himself?", your boyfriend's sister completed, "yes, I think. You know how he is. He's shared some of his thoughts but he's trying to stay as positive as he can be, and everyone here is on the same page, too. They've been very reassuring and hopeful", you smiled, your attention caught by the surgeon you recognised from Lance's team, "I'll text you the news, okay? Dr. Mir is here", you bid Chloe goodbye, ending the call and getting up.

"Miss Y/N, we just finished your boyfriend's surgery, and I'm glad to say it was successful", he smiled, seeing your relief, "my colleagues have lifted the anesthesia and they're taking him up to his room, you can join him as soon as you like", he finished, accompanying you to the lifts to take you up as well.

Thanking Dr. Mir, you texted everyone that had kindly asked you to know when the surgical intervention had finished, reaching the room as soon as you sent the last text, knocking on the door to see a young doctor type on her iPad, "Hi, you must be Y/N, right?", she asked and you nodded, "he's still a bit loopy and sleepy from the medication, but he asked for you just now", she smiled sweetly, taking note of some of the numbers on the screen before saying, "Dr. Mir will come back once he's done with the op notes to inform you, but so far, everything is going well and like it should".

Lance moved in the bed, opening his eyes at the noise, you presumed, "hey", you whispered, brushing the hairs on his forehead, "how are you feeling, bub?", you smiled, seeing his brown orbs look back at you, "I'm tired, but otherwise good", he mumbled as he tried his best to kiss the part of your hand closest to his lips before he was interrupted by his surgeon walking in.

"Hi Lance, glad to see you're doing well. The surgery went as it was supposed to, and I think, if you work hard, you'll be back for Jeddah. Bahrain, maybe, I don't want to be too optimistic, but it would be doable", he smiled, explaining the next few steps.

"Unfortunately, the fractures in your left hand and wrist, and also your toe for thay matter, aren’t suitable for fixation, so we'll have to go about it on a more conservative approach to heal those other injuries", he explained, gathering Lance's trainer while they all discussed recovery plans, your hand sitting on his leg while they spoke.

While you were in hospital, things had been as good as they could be: the medical staff had been amazing with everything, caring for Lance and teaching you the smaller things you could do at home in terms of dressing the area and helping it heal faster, even if it was something simple as holding his hand and twisting it like you're dancing.

The first few days at home, and even though Henry was with Lance for a good part of the day for all the different approaches to improve the mobility on his hands and wrists, "I need to shower", Lance gulped, "and while it is usually different when I say this, I really need your help", he smiled shyly, getting up and approaching you so you could both head to the bathroom.

When you were back in the bedroom, with Lance already tucked into bed with his medication already taken just watching you get ready for bed yourself while you tidied the room, "Y/N", Lance called, grabbing your attention while you put the dirty clothes on the hamper, "are you okay? Do you need me to move the pillows? Do you have an itch somewhere?", you urged to his side, ready to help, "None of that, no. I'm perfectly content and comfortable, and that is because of you. Thank you", he chuckled, "I don't think that there are any words or expressions that I could use to show my appreciation and gratitude for you", he beamed, "I'm even more in awe of you. You have been here everytime I've needed you, even if it's just a mundane task that my wrists don't allow me to do. You're always there cheering me on whenever a session doesn't go well and there to congratulate me and celebrate with me whenever it goes well", he smiled.

Sitting next to him on the bed, careful of his wirst, and kissed his lips, "we always said we would be here for eachother, right? Besides, I enjoy caring for you", you cuddled him, helping him to lay on top of your chest while you put something on the TV, your hand landing on his torso.

While you couldn't go to Lance's appointment as you had work responsibilities, you were eager to see him arrive back home

"I was speaking to the team today, and Dr. Mir also gave his opinion, and they think I can race this weekend in Bahrain, things are really looking up", and that was enough for your nervousness to come back.

"And do you feel ready to go? I mean, you're still doing ice after every session, the bruises are still there too", you tried to reason, knowing from previous days that it was nearly to no use. It wasn't the first time his medical team had forwarded the option, and while it was a good sign that his recovery was going well, it still concerned you that it would be too painful for him.

"I'm more than ready, I miss driving. Tomorrow I'm driving on the simulator to see if I can handle it", he smiled as he took a water bottle out of the fridge, his smile fading when he saw the crease between your eyebrows, "I have everyone looking at every movement I do and how I do it, my love. I'll be fine", he attempted to soothe your worries, kissing your forehead, "do you want help with dinner?", he wondered looking at the pots, "I can stir this!", he cheerfully suggested, pointing the wooden spoon at you and managing to make a grin break on your lips, nudging his side while you joined him at the stove.

Seeing Lance need help to get out of the car made your fears even clearer, "I don't like this", you mumbled, feeling Claire-Anne's hand on your back, "me neither, sweetheart", she mumbled back. Sighing, you realised that you were not the only one filled with worry. While Lawrence, Lance himself and everyone on the team said he would be okay, you couldn't help but let your thoughts travel to a dangerous place. What if something went wrong? What if he crashed and he couldn't get out of the car safely? The questions plagued you to the point where you excused yourself, smiling and thanking all of the Aston Martin team members you passed until you reached Lance's driver's room, closing the door before you sat down, waiting for him to come back from the interviews.

It didn't take long before he was back, seeing Henry walk in with bags of ice on his hands, "Hi Y/N", he smiled, setting the bags on top of a box before he exited, "Lance will be here shortly". When Lance arrived, he kept talking about how it felt to finally be in the car, "it's incredible. The team back at the factory built an amazing car this year, it's a pleasure to drive! I- Hey, everything alright?", he questioned as he fastened the ice bags around his wrists, "I'm happy that you're happy, Lance, don't get me wrong. But, is it safe for you? And I'm asking genuinely and I want an honest answer", you finally let out.

Sitting next to you, Lance placed his hand on your thigh, "it's medically safe. Does it hurt? Yes, but not to the point where it will take me out of doing it", he stated, "I'm worried for you, I mean, you couldn't even turn the wheel around with both of your hands, I saw it on the onboard", you spoke your point, "I promise I'll be careful, okay? I understand your worry, and I appreciate it. I'm sorry it causes you this much distress, but I promise you I'll say it whenever it's not okay, yes?", he held his pinky out, making you nudge it slightly, "C'mon, my love, give me a real pinky promise!", he teased you, lacing his finger with yours with some applied strength.

The cars were on track getting ready for the formation lap when you were walking bag to the garage, bumping into Mick on the way, "Y/N! I haven't seen you in a while, how are you?", he greeted you with a kiss on each cheek, "Hi Mick!", you greeted him back, "how have you been? We've been dealing with the whole wrist situation", you shrugged your shoulders, "I've been good, change of scenery for the season, but it has been a big opportunity to learn and it's only the start. I've heard, Lance's keeping you on your toes, hm?", he giggled.

"Yes, a lot. I trust him and the team, you know? But I can't help feeling nervous. These past two weeks have been the craziest in my life, I think", you smiled, "but it's all in good efforts, I think, the car looks promising. I think Sebastian's legacy is doing some magic", you finished, "if he says he's good, trust him, yeah? I'll see you around, Y/N", the German driver smiled, patting your arm as he left the green coloured garage.

Picking up your headset, you sat next to Lance's mother, getting ready to watch the race while you crossed your fingers for everything to go well, "this is even more stressful", the older woman confessed, "if he says he's good, we should trust him", you repeated Mick's words like a mantra, earning her nod as she squeezed your hand on top of the small table like compartment.

With Fernando finishing on the podium and Lance finishing in 6th place, there were many reasons to celebrate, "above all of this", you gestured to the celebrations that were being held by the team dinner party, "is that you're safe and sound, here with me", you smiled, kissing your boyfriend's lips, "I told you to trust me, didn't I? And it was fine", he mused, "you should have seen her during the race, though. There was a time I felt she would make them stop it all just to go and give you an ice pack", Claire-Anne mentioned, smiling at her son's happy relationship.

#lance stroll imagine #lance stroll fluff #lance stroll × reader #lance stroll fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic

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yuri-is-online · 11 days

Text

... so what do we know about the Clash? (pt. 2)

moving right along from part 1

WARNING: THIS POST CONTAINS SPOILERS THROUGH EPISODE 5: HOTARUBI. PLEASE INTERACT WITH DUE CAUTION.

The Laurel Crown is first referenced by Ritsu in Episode 4. It is an award given to the best performing house of the year at an event called the Darkwick Gala. Kaito says it is held one week before graduation, Ritsu says there are a lot of rewards given out to graduating winners. He also very specifically says that it is "the shortest path to success and independence from Darkwick for us ghouls." That word independence strikes me as important, though it is not followed up on here or elsewhere unless you count the discussion surrounding Article 78 in Episode 5. Ritsu thinks that Taiga was interested in it once upon a time due to his impressive mission completion record in his first year. We know Zenji wanted to win the crown to obtain recognition as an author, while most of the other ghouls we've met show a degree of disinterest or lack of knowledge of it. Ren mentions at the end of this conversation that he didn't know about the Gala, and Ritsu points out that despite being canceled it was never removed from last years schedule. It is not not this year's though, and he implies that Cornelius is covering something up. Which really does seem to be the case...

The Crown system was discontinued as a direct result of the Clash... we think. It is never explicitly stated "yeah the Clash happened so we aren't doing this anymore" it's instead alluded to as something they can't do because there are too many ghouls to control. We know it had to be this as Haku tells Zenji that it was discontinued after he died, and Zenji died during the Clash. According to Haku, he was killed by a rogue anomaly. He adamantly discourages MC from looking into the Clash gee why would you do that HAKU and this seems to be a similar stance to what Cornelius would take if he knew you were curious. Cornelius and Moby are reluctant to let Lyca free because "what if we have another case of a ghoul-" We can assume he is going to say "killing" or something along those lines based off the concerns listed about Lyca, but that's not confirmed.

Ritsu finds documents about the Clash in the school's archives. he finds them alongside disciplinary documents, he says he either overlooked them or someone had them checked out as he has not read them before. The file is thick and is specifically titled "The Clash: An Overview of Civil Affairs Instigated by Darkwick Students." The term "civil affairs" is interesting. As best I can tell it is a military term that refers to small scale missions undertaken by small teams that focus on civil action? Like diplomacy stuff? Or organizing humanitarian aid? And in more sinister scenarios to assist in psychological warfare to condition a population to not fight against your military but I don't know if that's what the translation team was going for here exactly. I think it's just meant to imply things got really bad and really violent.

Lastly, this is less easy to prove than some of the other things as fact but I still think it is one: there are hints of a split in the student body over who is pro-anomaly and anti-anomaly. Subaru is obviously very pro-anomaly and thinks that capturing them is cruel, Taiga seems to be pro eating anomalies while Romeo is very comfortable with catching them and collecting bounties. A lot of this seems to be tied to how they view the school, the Institute that runs it, and their place in that hierarchy. The one thing everyone seems to agree on is that they are trapped at Darkwick and don't want to be. At least not forever.

So to re cap all of the things we know to be fact: the Clash happened sometime last year, half a year ago at the absolute latest. The fight is thought to have been started by the ghouls, we do not know over what. The Laurel Crown system and the Darkwick Gala were both canceled after the fallout of the Clash, in which at least two named people are thought to have died: Zenji Kotodama who would have been a second year Hotarubi student and Dante whose former role is unknown. Zenji still resides in the school as a ghost, though this is unknown to Darkwick staff, and Dante has been brought on as a Professor. Also, all of the Inspectors seem to have quit at the end of the previous year due to the ghouls abusing mesmer matches on them. Three dormitories were disbanded at some point and one new one was created. We do not know if this was connected to the Clash or if it was an inciting incident for it, but at some point Clementia, one of those dormitories, was the scene of some sort of fight. Some of the students of Dionysia dorm went missing, presumably the ghouls. We know nothing about what happened to Ultio aside from the prison they were tasked with running now being run "by Darkwick." All general students from these dorms were re-assigned elsewhere, as were the general students previously assigned to Jabberwock who had general admissions halted. There is a spy amongst these ghouls who Taiga believes is intending to make them look bad; Alan and Tohma are attempting to isolate this spy. We do not know who this spy is spying for, or what Alan and Tohma want out of him exactly, nor do I really expect to find out anytime soon.

So. Now onto the Questions and Theories. As in things we can assume but cannot exactly prove:

Questions and Theories

Jiro and Zenji look extremely similar with a few noticeable differences, namely the piercings Jiro has and the glasses Zenji wears. My first thought was that maybe Jiro was made out of Zenji's corpse, but his birthday is listed as October 13th, which is not the middle of the year by any stretch. They also have different blood types; I think the most practical explanation comes from Zenji himself. When describing why he's so attached to the haunted doll you've found, he says it looks just like his brother did when he was a baby. I have some screenshots of Zenji following Jiro around in a campus event because he wants to help him find something he's looking for, so it does make a bit of sense. And make me even more sad.

The Institute that runs Darkwick seems to be deeply suspicious of ghouls and feel a need to keep them on a short leash. There is a great deal of distrust and resentment between the ghouls and the Institute, and the Clash seems to have been the result of that distrust. The thickness of the records Ritsu finds suggests to me that whatever the Clash was exactly, it took up most of the previous year and that it had something to do with Darkwick's treatment of anomalies.

On that point, I think that Clementia was likely destroyed by a rogue anomaly. The destruction MC sees is described as something going on a rampage, and not as a fight. The fight angle is still possible of course, and if that's the case I wonder if it has something to do with how Ultio was running the prison. I mentioned in the previous post that the goddesses these dorms are named after are meant to sort of balance each other out, so if there was going to be a clash of ideals between anyone on campus it'd probably be these guys.

I feel like Obscuary was set up as a result of the Clash? Or at the very least some time before it specifically so there would be some place for Rui and Ed to go. I think the dorm members will all be crossed with an anomaly in some way, Ed with a vampire, Rui with a reaper, and Lyca with a werewolf. Also, Ed is rumored to have done something. What? No fucking clue, don't even know if it's related to the Clash but still he has done something to get added into the rumor mill.

We don't know what Haku's stigma is as he didn't tell us. He also makes a point of saying that he thinks it's a good thing to get through a mission without using your stigma, if anything he seems to discourage the MC from using or relying on the ring to help the ghouls. You could see this as him trying to encourage her to value herself more, or maybe he thinks that there is a cost for using stigmas we don't know about just yet and they're not the blessings the ghouls think they are. Also he asks Cornelius if he has ever lied to him at the end of the chapter and if you think I didn't find that sus as all hell-

I need to sleep, but remind me to make a post about Haku sometime. Because I don't think he's evil exactly, but I do still think he's the spy.

#tokyo debunker #tdb #tdb theory #tokyo debunker theory

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st4rwon · 1 year

Text

silent cry

bang chan x reader

in which you have been suffering in silence and one day chan finds out

contains: reader overworking themselves, stressed out reader, hurt/comfort, swearing (like once), uses of pet names (baby, babe, darling)

word count: 0.7k

everything was going wrong. papers were scattered all around your desk, the glowing of your laptop being the only thing lighting up the room, the ramen bowl sitting on the side of your desk, even though you have finished it hours ago. it was a mess, you felt like a mess. it has been like this for nights on end.

you heard someone start to unlock the door and quickly closed your laptop and ran you your shared bedroom. as you pushed yourself under the covers pretending to be asleep, you heard the footsteps coming closer and closer to the room. "they're asleep" chan said with a smile, he knew your overworking tendencies and was happy you were finally taking care of yourself. he pressed a kiss to your forehead and set his stuff down, then grabbing a change of clothes to put on after his shower. after he left the room tears streamed down your face, the guilt over taking your body. you didn't know what was worse you hiding the fact that you were stressing yourself out or the disappointment chan would have when he found out. it was only a couple more weeks of this tedious cycle before you could take a break from work. as much as you wanted to be open with chan and let him know all your worries, you knew that he would feel terrible about the state you put yourself in, you would never want to hurt the man you love most. so you suffered in silence.

you had started working the second chan had left the house, though he had left unusually late today. you started working again pushing yourself to your limit. today was the last day of this project, then you were done. though the amount of work you had left made you worry, how would you get this all done? was it even possible? you groaned in pain feeling the panting in your head, with you limited amount of sleep and countless hours staring at the documents your eyes couldn't stand the stain on them. before you know it tears fell against your face one again, but this time you were unable to stop. all the horrible pain you had was being let out of your body. you were crying so hard you didn’t even hear the door open and the steps that were taken to your work room.

“baby?” if the work you had piled up wasn’t enough to make you feel like shit, knowing that chan had now seen you in the state you had been trying to hide from him would. you quickly wiped the tears away from your face and pushed away the chocked sobs coming from you. “hey babe, you here early” you said trying not to cry even more. he walked closer to you, and engulfed you in his arms “please baby tell me what’s wrong” “chan i’m…o-okay. i swear” but your cracking voice had given it away. “you know i’m always here for you, you know you can talk to me.” “i know” “then why have you been hiding you pain from me” he said looking into your eyes “why are you trying to tell me your okay when you’re clearly not?” “i didn’t want you to worry, i’m sorry” you cried “don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault. but i can’t have you suffering alone, i’m here to listen you your worries, that’s what i’m here for. so please don’t hide your feeling away” you sobbed in his arms for a little longer, him eventually doing the same. knowing that you had been hiding this from him just because you didn’t want to bother him made chan feel horrible. “please don’t cry… i won’t do it again, i swear” you said brushing his tears away. you wrapped your arms around his body and gave him a kiss. “i love you channie, and i’m sorry i hid my feelings from you” “please darling, just don’t hurt yourself like this ever again” “i won’t”

the two of you stayed in each other’s arms for a bit before chan spoke up, “are you hungry? i got your favorite” “it must be cold now, i room so much of your time…” “anytime with you is time we’ll spent, and i’m happy we were able to talk things out.” he said with a smile “i’m so grateful to have you in my life, i love you chan” you said giving him a peck on his cheek, “i love you more babe” he said picking you up, “now let’s eat, i’m starving” you laughed in response. you felt like the luckiest person in the world knowing you had chan by your side.

a/n: a little self-indulgent, but just wanted to make a fic based off this song ^^

please don’t spam like posts, repost, translate, or use my work without my permission. all work is fictional and only used for entertainment purposes. © azurez 2023

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 4 months

Note

AITA for wanting healthy communication?

🎨💫 <- so I can find it

For context this is about one of my exes from 2022. It was an online relationship. At the time of this story I was 19 and they (🦜) were 18. This also involves their friend (🪐) who was also 18 at the time.

When me and 🦜 met, I was 17 and they were 16. I had just gotten out of a toxic relationship with someone who had been cheating on me with 🦜. Me and 🦜 bonded over the toxicity of that person, which is how we ended up getting closer. Trauma bonding isn’t healthy, I know.

Me and 🦜 started dating in January of 2022. I was in college at the time but I ended up dropping out and moving to another state. During this time, I asked 🦜 to communicate with me if I ever did or said anything wrong, as I’m autistic and often can’t tell. I thought that 🦜 also being autistic meant they would understand, but oh how wrong I was.

Our relationship lasted from January to October of 2022. In that time, me and 🦜 only ever had one conversation about something we were upset about. I’d often ask them if they were okay, if I was doing anything wrong, if there was anything I could improve on. Every time they answered saying they were fine.

Fast forward to October 2022. I woke up to a long DM from 🦜 telling me I had been abusing them and that they were blocking me. I didn’t know what they were talking about since I had no memory of ever doing anything they were claiming I did. Their friend 🪐 had also DMed me with pretty much the same thing as 🦜. I was left completely unaware and confused about what happened until October 2023, when 🦜 and 🪐 sent out a long document about me. In it were things I never remembered doing, things that aren’t even bad at all, and things I honest to God never even did. There were some screenshots but most of it was word-of-mouth “just trust me bro”. They had even included a message from me where I had said neither of them ever communicated anything with me other than the singular time.

I made my own document, including how I had several times asked to be communicated with, and how some of the things I was being accused of were in fact things that 🦜 had done to me and were now placing onto me. Of course this got thrown around as “victim blaming”. This all took place on bird app, so of course fork found in kitchen.

If it helps at all, I suffer from dissociative amnesia, which means I often lose or “forget” chunks of time ranging from a couple minutes to whole months and years. I lost my memory of most of 2022 which makes 🦜’s accusations a lot harder for me to believe and honestly, it feels like they’re gaslighting me. I’ve been told I’m lying about things I never lied about. They were extremely toxic to me, I admit I was toxic to them as well. My trauma has been looked over in favor of banishing me from the internet.

I hope this explained this well enough. I’m a little scared 🦜 will find this if I give any more details of the situation but I’ll try to answer any questions as best I can.

Thank you for listening. I’ll 100% accept if I’m the asshole here. I just need to know for my own sanity and so I can work on myself moving forward if I am actually the asshole.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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strangebiology · 3 months

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Free Resources I Made for Nonfiction Book Writers - $$$

If you're writing a nonfiction, non-memoir book, you're welcome to join my free monthly video chat group Authors of Nonfiction Books in Progress (ANBIP.) If you join you'll get the recap emails and the invites to meetings, but if you don't like meetings, then just enjoy the emails. Note that it's sort of a professional group so we talk about book writing as more of a job than some universal higher calling or whatever.

Through that, I've had a few people ask me for some of the following documents in this journey, so I decided, why not just make a copy for sharing so that anyone can find them, instead of just people who email me? Feel free to use these as samples, share them, whatever. But first:

What I wish I had known before the book: While I'm here, before you start your book proposal, I learned too late that you can get paid $80,000 to write one at a journalism fellowship! People do that at the Knight Science Journalism Fellowship, The Scripps Fellowship at the Center for Environmental Journalism, and probably the other Knight Journalism fellowships that I haven't looked into. So, keep your ears open for fellowships if you're thinking of starting a nonfiction book proposal.

To the resources...

Results from my agent search Note: most people suggest Publisher's Marketplace, so, even though I didn't like my results from looking there, there is surely a reason everyone else does.

My Book Proposal & how I contacted the agent Result: contract with MIT Press to write a book about dead animals and $50,000 advance.

My Proposal for the Sloan Grant Result: I got $56,053 for the book Carcass. Also, at least two other people in my group got the grant, and one mentioned that she never would have known about it if it weren't for ANBIP, nor would she have applied!

List of suggested grants to apply to Note: most of these book grants--and most legit ones in the world--require a traditional contract. I find a lot of "prizes" for people without trad contracts are not grants at all, but an effort to get you to think you "won" what is, in effect, a contract. That's fine if the contract is fine, but don't let them stroke your ego with the words "you won" if you think you could get a better contract elsewhere. A grant is more like free money.

I also got $500 and some free resources--and miiiiight get some more money in the future?--from a program called Investing in Wyoming's Creative Economy, so, maybe your state has something similar. IWCE is brand new (started in 2023) so we'll see if it even continues on. MANY funding opportunities only exist for a few years before they run out.

My contract with my fact-checker

How I found Science Advisors & how I described their task Note: I really just made this up, as with the contract with the fact-checker. I'm just some person and I'm only giving these to you because I couldn't find anyone else's that may have been done better! Make a copy, read through it carefully, and make all the changes you need to yours. Or if you already have a better one to look to, send it to me and LMK if I can send it to my colleagues at ANBIP!

Spreadsheet National Park Artists in Residences Applications Note: I have never got any of these, and most don't pay or work well for writers, TBH. But I know a science writer who did get one. Also, I only included the ones I liked in this spreadsheet and left out the historic parks. Here's a map of more and the National Park Arts Foundation. I only apply to free ones because I noticed that one residency said they got 800 applications and the fee was $120, which, mathematically, is like paying $96,000 to do it (and that one paid $4,000 to the winner.) Also: state parks and BLM land have Artist in Residence programs!

Copy of #PublishingPaidMe spreadsheet (I didn't make this, and I don't recommend making graphics or pivot tables from this as some of the numbers are def wrong)

Book Progress thermometer

That's all for now! If you found this helpful, just pay it forward by being open with your experience for the next people who ask you.

PS. My next task is finding events to hire me to do talks about the topic of my book, which is dead animals. I know some authors make plenty of money on speaker fees after their book is launched! But I'm struggling to find events/places to speak because I mostly only want to go places where I am paid, but I also worry about a conflict of interest if I'm paid by organizations I've covered--or even, orgs that promote or protest anything that I've covered in general! I don't want to be a PETA-funded journalist or a Safari Club International-funded journalist either. If you have experience with setting up a book tour where you profited financially and were journalistically clear, I'd love to hear your story!

#book writing #books #not biology #Carcass Book

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andy-wm · 8 months

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Jungkook's GOLDEN moment

Or, the media journey of our Golden Boy's debut album, and what it all means.

This post grew out of a question that popped into my head a couple of days ago.... "what are we really getting on 3 November?"

Sometimes ADHD is a blessing. Other times it's a curse. It all depends on your perspective.

I was going to write a few words - just share an idea - but part of my day job is getting the facts right (and doing the research and validating information) so what started as a quick idea has grown into a long, long story.

As I said, ADHD can be a blessing. I may have resorted to cutting my own hair yesterday because I keep forgetting to make an appointment with the barber, but I can go without food or sleep if something sparks my curiosity. And this has. And the good news is, I'm sharing all that with whoever wants to read it. The other good news is that fortunately, hair grows back.

So I suggest you either grab a snack and get comfortable, or skip to the end to read my conclusion. Because in Tumblr, as in life, my ability to talk nonstop for hours about random shite is unmatched.

Where did all this begin?

When did we first hear about Jungkook's debut solo album? I believe the original announcement came from the annual forecast/investment report documents, which I found out about via tw in May this year.

Jungkook's album was officially forecast for release in the fourth quarter according to the HYBE and Hanwha Investment report.

We were all thrilled and excited! I certainly was.

JK's voice is the aural equivalent of an ice cream sundae - refreshingly cool and softly warm, and multi-layered with all the fancy toppings. He can do pop-sugar sprinkles, he can do fancy slivered almonds, he can do spicy peaches in brandy, lit on fire.

His voice flows into your ears, sweet and hot, just like him.

It was good news but not surprising. Because by the time that report came out we had already had albums (or news of albums) from Hobi, Namjoon, Jiminie and Yoongles. We had figured out they were all going release something. It would have been odd if Jungkook DIDN'T join his bandmates in this. ARMY knows he's a prolific and talented songwriter from way back. He's been writing and producing songs for BTS's albums from as far back as 2015. With instant ARMY favourites like Still With You, Decalcomania, and Your Eyes Tell to his name, Jungkook's album was an exciting prospect.

In June and July, rumours about the album surfaced:

On 4 June, Korean news website Sports Chosun, released an article about Jungkook's debut album - claiming the release date as 14 July. The article toted an English song on the album as 'a huge hit'.

BigHit responded, slapping the news website on the wrist and stating that THEY would make announcement when the release date was confirmed.

ARMYs and everyone else lit up the ether with chatter about the announcement, but where many news sites were simply regurgitating the Sports Chosun article, we were wondering where they got that information, and why they were talking about this English song being a hit as though that would be something new for a BTS song.

Um... do you know BTS?

Fast forward to 14th July... and the release of SEVEN (ft Letto).

A single, not an album, but it was HUGE.

Most ARMYs loved it but some were shocked... at the revelation that their darling Jungkookie is in fact a horny young man who enjoys pleasures of the flesh. And thank god he does, honestly, because the thought of his youth and beauty being wasted on abstinence is devastating to me. He works too hard not to enjoy a good fuck - hopefully seven days a week.

We all know the explicit version had a few people clutching their pearls and petticoats, but on the whole the reception was good. SEVEN (ft Letto!) sailed majestically to the top of the charts all across the globe and settled in alongside Like Crazy as a long term resident on the Billboard Hot 100.

Jungkook travelled abroad for the promos (with Jimin) and sang his song everywhere from New York to London.

But he also visited us, often.

He made time to chat for hours with ARMY, telling us how much we mean to him, and how he has decided to trust himself, and how he hopes WE would trust him too. He told us over and over that he has decided to do what he wants. That this is what he wants. That he hopes we love it.

It was clear he was having a lot of fun with SEVEN.

The MV, and the making of the MV, were a hit in themselves, and we got to see JK's acting chops (clearly SO MUCH better than Yoongi's he told us).

And then came more news about the album...

It wasn't long after that, only three days in fact, before another article about his upcoming album surfaced. This time it was on the (apparently very factually reliable) music news site, Hits Daily Double.

The article sat strangely askew for many ARMYs. For OT7 fans of BTS it felt more than a little off.

From the opening sentence...

Jung Kook's "Seven" f/Latto (HYBE/Geffen) set records in its first 24 hours on Spotify.

...to the brazenly competitive comparisons with BTS and the other members achievements, the tone of the article was smug and divisive and frankly not very Bangtan.

For a short puff piece, it managed to put a good half of the fandom's nose out of joint. I have no doubt that was the intention, that it aimed to sow dissent and push JK ahead of his members in ARMY's - and the world's - eyes. We weren't mad at JK - far from it - we could see right through the writer's intent. And we knew who was behind it...

Enter stage left: The Villain, Scrotum Balls

"HYBE Chairman Bang Si-Hyuk's trust in HYBE America CEO Scooter Braun is continuing to pay off. Braun found the song and connected Jung Kook with the Grammy-winning Producer of the Year he reps, Andrew Watt."

Did SB write this bollocks himself?? What a twat, seriously.

But wait, there's more...

"Those involved with Jung Kook's forthcoming debut album, which will be an all-English effort, are very bullish on the project and see it as a pivotal moment in the BTS solo campaign. Jung Kook's embrace of sexuality and profanity is giving new life to BTS fans..."

This is where it all starts going a little pear shaped. I can almost see the smile melting off Jungkook's face as he read this article.

Not a word about the themes this album would explore, or the music itself, or even a word from the artist. Just SB crowing about the 'project' that those involved were so bullish about.

In other articles on this site from the same time, Jungkook is referred to as an alumnus of BTS, and the erstwhile bandmate of V. Both of these terms insinuate that he has left BTS, which is very misleading.

At that point, some of us were very worried. It was starting to look like Jungkook himself was the project - a little project for SB to use as a self promotion tool. The sacrificial lamb he was going to offer to the gods of commercial radio and the plastic world of pop stardom to redeem himself for the absolute fucking mess he made when he tied up his label's artists with red tape and held them hostage.

Did anyone watch the movie TAR?

Spoiler alert, but the main character Lydia's attempts to regain her influence after she destroyed her own empire, are not dissimilar to SB's. The only way she could rise from the ashes after figuratively burning her house to the ground, was to reinvent herself in a new environment. She started over, with her trademark ego-driven confidence not dented in the least, believing herself the ultimate maestro as she took on a new project to mould into her image of success.

The parallels are uncanny.

Moving on...

Suchwita with Jungkook was revealing, in that it revealed nothing...

Specifically the nothing that had happened with the mini album!

Jungkook said he hadn't started working on the album, he was still searching single #2. He said after the second single he would release a mini album in November.

"Are the songs for the album ready?" Yoongi asked.

"No" replied Jungkook, "I have to start working on them now."

At the time Suchwita was filmed, Jungkook had yet to start working on the songs for the mini album he was due to release in November.

In a previous Weverse live he also said he hadn't started working yet. He had no songs. The extended break was so good that he would have been happy to keep resting, until SEVEN came along.

Confirmed in the AUDACY interview in NY:

In his interview with Audacy (recorded around 14 July in NY) Jungkook's message was consistent with what he said to Yoongi.

There were 'no specifics set yet' when asked about an upcoming album... certainly no mention of ALL ENGLISH SONGS.

When asked "How do you want to make your solo work special and unique to you?" Jungkook responded that he didn't want to chase anything. That he 'wants everything to become special naturally, because he does his best.' He says SEVEN wasn't released because he had specific plans, it just happened. He wants the next song to come along naturally too.

That's a very different message from the brash, aggressively confident stance taken in the Hits Daily Double article - I think we we can safely assume they were SB's words - and it's also not shining a light on SB as the hero of the moment the way the article tried to do.

Jungkook had either not been briefed on SB's vision for the album, or he wasn't on board with it. Either way, the album was not mentioned again until early October.

Let's return to Suchwita and to Tae's interview.

*this is focused on the conversation about JK's album, no disrespect to our smooth operator.

"This album is the last solo album," says Yoongi.

When I watched this episode I first thought Yoongi was talking about the order that the Suchwita episodes were filmed, when he said Tae's album was the last. He clarified in the next sentence that he was talking about the release date.

"You're the last one," says Yoongi.

<<Wait... so what happened to JK's album?>>

"That's right. I feel so much pressure," continues Tae.

"Everyone was like, I don't want to be last," laughs Yoongi.

What Tae says next is pivotal:

"But if I didn't like it, I wouldn't have released it. I would have said I'm sorry, but I can't."

Oh really?

So THAT'S AN OPTION? He could say "No, I don't like it so I'm not releasing it."?!

They go on to talk about promotions for all the members and how they differed, as though everyone else has done all the promotions they have lined up, but all I can think about is...

Did Jungkook say NO to SB?

Maybe he hadn't agreed to anything when that Hits Daily Double article was published. Maybe SB shot his mouth off before JK had even listened to the songs he was proposing. Jungkook told us he's doing what he wants to do.

Maybe Jungkook didn't like the songs, or the direction the album was taking. Our Jungkook can be stubborn and he knows his worth. Maybe he said he didn't want to be SB's little project?

That would explain why we heard nothing else about his *All English*mini album. Between July and the announcement of the release date in early October, there wasn't even a whisper.

On 3 October, Hits Double Daily released a second article:

The tone of this release couldn't be more different from the first article.

No mention of SB

No mention of ALL ENGLISH

Jungkook is suddenly back in the BigHit stable, whereas before he was being associated with Hybe/Geffen

The source is clearly stated as BH

The forceful language of the first article is notably absent. This piece is purely factual, short and to the point.

Tags for this article are: JungKook, BTS, GOLDEN, BIGHIT. Compared to the first article which was additionally tagged with HYBE, Geffen, Scooter Braun, Bang Si-Hyuk, Andrew Watt.

This sentence: Jung is known as the “golden maknae” (“golden youngest”) of BTS. Suddenly Jungkook is back in BTS (as opposed to an alumnus of BTS). His status as the maknae also firmly grounds him in his Korean roots, a fact which was hardly mentioned in other articles. (and they got his name wrong ffs...)

There's also the MAJOR fact that unlike SEVEN, Jungkook is performing the debut of this album in Korea, not in the USA. That also says to me that SB is not involved (or less involved).

Other evidence of Jungkook's autonomy in this, is his unexpected performance of Still With You at the GCL concert. You could tell he was nervous, he lost his performance presence a little - standing awkwardly with his hand on his hip - and I think it was because there was something more at stake with that performance. All my fingers and toes are crossed for it's inclusion on the album.

Where does that leave us with GOLDEN?

My conclusion is that there has been some level of disagreement between SB and Jungkook about the album. And that Jungkook has stood his creative ground (YES!) and put some distance between himself and SB.

I fervently hope this is true.

Remember that Yoongi said Jungkook is the most talented musician he's ever met.

Yoongi, who I would trust with my soul even if he had horns and called himself the prince of darkness.

well that picture's kinda hot!

...

(I lost my train of thought thinking about Yoongi with horns)

Yes, Yoongi said that.

Yoongi who works with dozens and dozens of musicians including 6 of the most successful artists in the world...oh, and PSY.

The suggestion in the first article - that Jungkook's debut album was being designed with strategic market-oriented goals in mind - was so disturbing, when we know what a brilliant artist he is.

Sure it would be advantageous if Jungkook could access the networks and opportunities that come with an association with SB.

But if having an introduction to SB's circle means he's handcuffed to the strategic vision of a person who sees music as a corporate commodity, and Jungkook as a project, I truly hope he said 'I'll pass thanks.'

And let's not forget the album went from being a mini album (2-6 songs) to ELEVEN songs. In my minds eye I see Jungkook saying 'you think I can't come up with a whole album in two months? Hold my beer.'

Jungkook doesn't need SB to be successful...

He is after all...

THE GOLDEN MAKNAE

Here are the sources, if you want to see where this info came from...

youtube

#jeon jungguk #jungkook #min yoongi #jungkook seven #park jimin #bts jungkook #jungkook golden #bighit #bts #taehyung #suchwita #Youtube

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