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all-mirth-no-matter · 7 months

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Time After Time | Chapter Twelve

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader, Tommy Shelby x Original Female Character

Summary: You suffer through the repercussions of Christmas morning, a new year begins, and Polly provides some interesting insight.

Warning: language, smoking, ethnic slur, yelling

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Chapter 12: Nobody Knows

So help me find my way, the way I came from. ‘Cause I’m feeling lost and afraid, you better not be too far gone. Oh, have I been so wrong? Missed the song? Still I don’t know where I belong. No I don’t know. Because no one really knows me, at all. — Nobody Knows, Autograft, WYNNE

You ran through the garden toward the temple, sure the sacred grounds would bring you some solace. “You betrayed me!” You shouted behind you, tears pouring down your face.

Closing your eyes, you once again saw the shower of arrows fall from the sky, then a plague of sickness run through your lands. You saw death on the sands of your beaches, fires raging through the cities. You felt the whips and thrashes of pain across your body, the screams surrounding you until you fell to the floor with your hands over your ears.

“Cassandra.” The beautiful voice of your love boomed from behind you. On your knees, you opened your eyes and you were back in your palace, the peaceful night continuing as it had before. You turned, peering up at the figure, the moonlight illuminating his features.

Weak, your voice came out in a whisper. “What did you do to me?”

He smiled. “I blessed you with a gift of my own rarity.”

You shook your head, the tears still falling down your cheeks until you could taste the salt. “I’ve seen your arrows — how could you?”

“Cassandra—“

“Back!” You voice stronger now as your fear fueled your adrenaline. “I didn’t want this! How could you do this to me?”

He reached out to you, “Our future is together—“

A sob left your lungs as the images wouldn’t stop from behind your eyes. “All I see is destruction. Demise. Death. How could I love someone who allows such things to happen?”

Patience turned into anger. Your god stood to his full height as the rage froze his eyes. “If you don’t want our future together, then you’ll have no future at all. I curse you, Cassandra!”

——

“You in there love?”

You gasped awake, eyes searching around you as you tried to determine where exactly you were. Slowly, your brain began to recognize your surroundings.

Tommy’s room felt different than it had before. You looked down at the bed, evidence in the tussled sheets of where you’d finally fallen asleep — but the bed and room was otherwise empty.

A soft tapping brought you back, the door opening slowly as Polly poked her head in.

“They’ve just gotten back,” she said, taking in your obviously confused expression as you finally sat up on the bed fully.

You looked to see the open bottle on the nightstand accompanied by two empty glasses and the cigarette case you’d given him. That’s when you began to recall the events of the night.

“I need you,” Tommy had whispered with his forehead pressed against yours, your legs in his lap as he held you against him.

For a moment your brain tried to determine how exactly he meant that — was it business, pleasure, or something more. The way his lips pushed against yours swept the thought away, and an involuntary “I’m yours” came out as a breathy reply.

His grip tightened in response, soft touches turned needy as your fingers worked on the buttons of his vest, his on your dress. You were in just your slip, him in his trousers, when you fell to your back against the mattress, pulling his body with you.

“Tommy!” A shout from the other side of the door accompanied by an urgent knock caused you both to gasp away from each other. “We got trouble!”

Tommy jumped off the bed as your head fell back against the pillow, a huff leaving your lungs. “This has to be a cosmic joke at this point, I swear—“

He hushed you as he grabbed his gun from the holster on the hook before cracking open the door.

“It’s Russel. We’ve been fuckin’ had,” you could hear Arthur from the other side of the door, Tommy standing in the way of the crack to keep you hidden, though you were sure his disheveled state was evident. “Put ‘our cock away and get dressed.”

Tommy shut the door, running his hand through his hair as he turned back toward you, already offering him his discarded shirt. “Fuck,” he swore, pulling you into him for another searing kiss before he finally pushed away and took the shirt. You smirked as you watched the material cover the red smear from your lipstick on his neck and collarbone, internally groaning that he had to leave now, just when things were finally getting somewhere.

You shook your head, trying to get it out of your vagina and back into the realities that something bad must be happening.

“I was worried this would happen,” Tommy muttered as he pulled his shoes on. “Fuckin’ coppers.”

Standing up, you reached for your dress that’d pooled on the floor next to your shoes.

“What are you doing?”

Your brow creased, “Getting dressed, I should go home—”

“No,” he cut you off, grabbing the dress from your hands and throwing it over the arm of the chair. “I’ll walk you home when I get back, but you’re safer here.”

“You think I’m in danger?” This copper wouldn’t know your involvement in the situation, you couldn’t reason why tonight would be any less safe than any other night you’d walked home from the Garrison.

“Don’t know, but I’ll think straighter knowin’ you’re here with Pol and the family than out there,” he answered, securing his shoulder holster and checking the round of his revolver. “Sleep,” he added as he threw on his jacket. “I’ll wake you up when I get back.”

And with that, he left. You’d tried to stay awake as long as you could, your neediness for him slowly turning into worry the later it got. Eventually, you’d fallen asleep.

Finally catching up to what Polly had said, you looked out the window to fully recognize the beginnings of sunlight. “They just got back?”

“Aye, they’re in the kitchen. They’re alright, just beat a bit.”

Your eyes widened at her words, prompting you to scramble out from the covers and hustle toward the door.

“Oi, get dressed first!” she snapped, stopping you as she gestured toward your discarded dress still on the chair. “You go down there in this slip of a thing and you’ll give ‘em all heart attacks. There,” she added, helping you finish the buttons and manage your hair.

She turned back toward the door and reached for the handle. You took a step, ready to follow her, but stopped when she paused before turning the knob. Your brow furrowed as she turned back toward you, her eyes doing a quick scan of your face.

Suddenly worried that the situation was more dire than she’d let on, your heart began to race faster. “What are you—“

“You care for him, truly?” she asked you, this time her eyes not leaving yours as she waited for your reply.

You opened your mouth to answer, but closed it when your throat felt suddenly thick, and you swallowed instead.

“I pity you then,” she said when you didn’t answer, then turned back toward the door. “Come on, now. Let’s go figure out what the bloody hell happened.”

Polly lead down the stairs, your brain ping ponging between what state Tommy and his brothers might be in after being out the whole night, and why the older woman would pity you.

Your over analysis came to a halt when you both finally breached the kitchen doorway, your eyes immediately finding Tommy.

The first thing you noticed was the bright red splattering against his white collar and shirt. You followed the trail from his neck to his collarbone, bright red blood replacing where your dark red lipstick had been just a few hours before. Swallowing, you examined the rest of him — his knuckles were beaten, the sleeves of his shirt a mixture of smeared blood and dirt stains. But other than a deep cut on the hood of his cheek bone and the early signs of bruising along the jaw, he seemed to be okay.

You let out a relieved breath as your eyes finally met with his, knowing he’d been watching you as you took him in. The white of his eyes were red, causing his usual brilliant blues to appear icier than ever. They were wild, feral even, like nothing you’d yet seen.

“Fuckin’ hell, Ada!” Arthur shouted, causing you to finally break your stare and address the room fully.

“Shut up, you’ll make it bleed again!” Ada shouted back, shoving a soaked cloth to the piece of Arthur’s lip that was split pretty badly.

Next to them, John held another cloth to his nose to stop the bleeding, a similar sign of a bruise against the edge of his eye that’d birth a nasty shinner by the end of the day.

“What the bloody hell happened?” Polly asked, throwing Tommy a wet cloth as he began to clean off his knuckles.

“Russel was sellin’ information to the sloggers in Digbeth,” Tommy replied, throwing the cloth aside and reaching for the box of cigarettes in the middle of the table.

“Fuckin’ double dealin’ on the both of us,” Arthur added, hissing when his lip began to bleed again. Ada smacked his arm and pushed the cloth against him.

Tommy took a long drag, “They found out first, tried to use him to lure us into a trap. When our men went after him last night, they were waitin’.”

“Any dead?” Polly asked, starting the kettle — acting as if she’d asked a perfectly normal question.

“Not any of ours,” John answered proudly. “They held ‘em off ‘til we got there.”

“Got a few ‘fore the rest went runnin’ with their cocks ‘tween their legs—“

“Shut up, Arthur!” Ada shouted when his lip began to bleed again.

Polly handed you a cup and you realized you hadn’t moved, still standing just on the perimeter of the kitchen. Tommy was still watching you as the family talked.

“And Russel?” Polly asked, pulling out one of the family books.

“Dead,” John answered, “Charlie already took care of him and the others. Left some of the boys to man the territory ‘til we can clean ‘em out for good.”

“We’ll need lodgings for our men in the area to establish a stronghold. And you’ll need to get to the other coppers on our payroll,” Polly added, scribbling in the book.

The conversation faded into the background as you met Tommy’s eyes again. Expecting the wildness of when you first walked in, you were surprised to see his expression softer now. You’d always been so good at reading people, but Tommy had been an enigma to you since the moment you laid eyes on him.

He stood, and the motion snapped your brain back to the company of the room. “Come on,” he said, walking toward you and reaching for your back, only to clasp his hand and pull it back to himself. His jaw clenched as he instead moved toward the door, “I’ll walk you home.”

You looked around, everyone sort of half watching as you and Tommy left the room. You hadn’t said a word since you left Tommy’s bedroom, and truthfully you’d have no clue what to say anyway.

Your mind was still trying to come up with something when you and your escort made it to your apartment, faster than you expected. Because it was still so early, the streets were as quiet and bare as they’d ever be. You were about to invite Tommy up to your apartment, not ready for your time together to end, when he finally spoke up, cigarette still between his teeth.

“Best to stay away from the shop for a while. Polly or Ada can bring you the books to audit here.”

Your brow furrowed as you crossed your arms. “Why?”

He took a puff before pulling the stick from his lips, his eyes looking everywhere but to you. “Because I say.”

“Tommy—“

“Because I fuckin’ say, alright?” Tommy’s eyes snapped to yours, the harsh tone in his voice forcing your back to straighten. “I pay you for a job and you’re gonna fuckin’ do it the way I tell ya, eh?”

The verbal assault had you stunned, but you quickly recognized his words for what they truly were. He was speaking to you the same as he had in the wagon knowing it’d upset you, but this time there was no sign of an apology, or something vaguely adjacent. He was purposely pushing you away, and the thought turned your confusion into anger.

Where had the vulnerable man who’d held you not more than five hours ago gone?

Throwing his cigarette butt to the ground, Tommy turned to leave.

“What the hell happened to you last night?” you asked softly, mostly to yourself.

He rounded back on you, his eyes wild once again as he raised his voice. “This is me, Y/N! This is who I fuckin’ am. Now you’ve seen me, and you’ll stay away when I tell ya to.”

Your mouth snapped shut as you held eye contact for a moment longer, despite the burn you felt behind your own. His turned from wild, to remorseful, to cold once more before he turned to leave again, this time not looking back.

Now you’ve seen me, you repeated his words in your head as you watched him walk down the lane. He thought you disapproved, or you were disgusted, with the surlier side of the Shelby business.

Was he wrong?

It wasn’t like you were sensitive or anything to violence. With the way it was woven into most forms of entertainment in your day, it was hard to avoid — whether it was in video games, tv shows, movies, or even sports, you were no stranger to both real and fake injuries. But there was something different about seeing the Shelby brothers in person all cut, bruised, and bloody, knowing how they’d gotten that way that made you realize how different this was from anything you’d been exposed to before.

And honestly, you weren’t sure how you felt about it. Of course part of you was scared, for both yourself and the people you’d come to care for here. Meanwhile, the other part of you tried to rationalize that this was the way of the world, or at least the Shelby’s world. You’d learned a long time ago that the world wasn’t black and white — that there were shades of grey that were circumstantial and layered in intent and values and point of views.

While you didn’t know yet the full backstory of how the Shelbys came to be where they were now, the little information you did know painted an understanding that part of the circumstances with Tommy was grounded in some way with survival against poverty, racism, classism. There was a road the Shelbys had traveled to get where they were now, and you knew that part of it was paved in violence.

You watched as Tommy finally disappeared from sight, swallowing thickly as you retreated with a shaky hand into the building.

——

The next week went by quietly. You’d followed Tommy’s instructions of not coming by the shop, throwing yourself instead into the pub. You found yourself reverting back to the habits you’d made prior to meeting Tommy — though this time you had one more thing to obsessively overthink about during the quieter parts of the day.

Luckily, the pub was busier than ever. Factory worker strikes were growing more rampant, and a common group seemed to find base in the Garrison booths right after the whistles blew. After a few days, you overheard one of the men call another “Freddie” and turned in time to see the greeting and identity of Ada’s mystery man and Tommy’s former best friend.

You didn’t let yourself linger, not yet sure what information Ada had told him about you, so you continued on with your business as usual. But you still allowed yourself a few stolen glances and discrete eavesdropping out of pure curiosity.

Aside from that, the holidays also played a role in the Garrison’s popularity as you geared up for New Years Eve, a night Harry anticipated would be three-times busier than it had the year previously.

The work was good though — not only did it keep your mind busy, but it kept your body tired, which made sleep come easier. That, and the fact that your dreams seemed to stop — something you didn’t necessarily notice right away.

And yet, even with all your work and distractions, you still found yourself every night expecting to see Tommy walk through the pub doors.

New Years Eve night was the first instance where you caught a glimpse of any Shelby family member since Christmas morning. The crowd was so thick both you and Harry found yourselves working behind the bar. You heard rather than saw Arthur barrel through the door, shouting something about needing a drink to wash away the shit show of a year. You tried to listen closely to the voices to see who was with him, but the crowd volume was too overwhelming to zero in on. Harry had jumped at serving the snug himself, none the wiser to your inner turmoil.

You were trying really hard not to act as pathetic as you felt when a body pushed through the wall of people against the bar. For a moment your heart leapt, thinking it was Tommy, but deflated when they fully turned to face you.

“Hey beautiful,” Benji greeted, wide smile on his face as he leaned against the counter.

“Harry’s already over there to serve you boys,” you answered, giving him the server-smile you’d been dawning all night and gestured toward the snug in between pouring glasses and trying to retain shouts of orders from the others at the bar competing for your attention.

He shook his head, “I just wanted to come say hi. Busy night, huh?”

The poor boy was trying to small talk while you were running back and forth behind the bar. You swallowed your annoyance with a mirthless laugh and shrugged your shoulders, “Whatever gave you that idea?”

He laughed, and you were sure he was saying something else, but the sound of John’s laugh through the snug window caused your attention to shift. You glanced in time for Harry to move out of the way of the window, eyes landing on Tommy, who was sitting between his brothers with a set of cards in his hands. When his eyes shifted, possibly to look through the window himself, you turned back toward the crowd of people. You didn’t want him to catch you staring at him, your pride still wounded from your last encounter.

Benji’s voice calling your name brought your attention back, nearly forgetting he’d been there. “Did you hear me?”

“Um, no, sorry Benji,” you apologized while waving an acknowledgment to the man who shouted for rum on the other end of the bar top.

He chuckled, “I’ll try again when the crowd lessens.”

Doubt that, you said to yourself as Harry fell back behind the bar with you. You chanced a glance toward the window, but the door was properly closed now, causing you to both sigh in relief and disappointment.

The night ended with the crowd shouting with the sound of the church bells signaling midnight and the beginnings of the new year. Last call came an hour after that. Without you realizing, the Shelby and Peaky Boys had slipped out of the pub some time before closing, and you felt your heart break pathetically at the realization.

Not that you had any expectations, but you’d come to enjoy the feeling of being a part of something recently. And to not even get a hello from any of them made you feel even lonelier than ever.

Well, not counting Benji. Who also hadn’t come back like he said he would.

And now you were officially living in the year 1919. For a brief moment when the realization hit you while cleaning up for the night, you nearly expected something monumental to happen space-time-continuum-wise.

But the rest of the week went by just the same as it had before New Years. You were five days into the new year when you got to talk to your first Shelby since Christmas.

Ada arrived at your front door Sunday morning with two company books concealed discreetly in a bag. You didn’t bother asking how she knew it was your day off and instead embraced her warmly.

“Tommy said to not let you and the book out of my sight, but d’ya mind if I sneak out here to see Freddie while you work?”

Your brow creased at her question, slightly surprised at the vote of no confidence from Tommy — as if you needed a chaperone to do the job you’d been doing for months now. “Oh, uh, no, that’s fine. I finally saw him at the pub last week, been meaning to tell you.”

Ada’s eyes widened as she grinned, pulling you to sit with her on your bed. “What’d you think? You didn’t say anything, did you?”

“Of course not, I didn’t even talk to him. Just overheard him in a booth with some other guys. He seemed nice though.”

“He is,” she sighed, almost dreamily, and you shook your head at your friend despite the smile on your own face. “I just wish he and Tommy weren’t still at odds. He still won’t even tell me what they fell off about.”

You hummed in consideration, “Would them being close again make it easier for Tommy to accept you being together?”

Ada shrugged, “Dunno. Possibly.”

“Well, don’t waste any more valuable time with me,” you gave her a friendly shove off the bed, causing her to smile again.

“Thanks, I’ll be back in a few hours!”

After she left, you settled at your small dining table and dove in.

The books were telling. The holidays seemed to be a very good time for the betting shop, which made sense you supposed with people trying their luck to make as much money as they could before the year end.

The family books, however, were even more telling. New contacts had made an appearance, both as payers and payees, most of which seemed to be located in Digbeth. By the books, it seemed the Peaky Blinders had officially expanded into the new territory and there was no sign of slowing down.

You finished the audit just as Ada returned, leaving again promptly and promising to see you later.

——

Another week went by, the pub crowd slightly smaller but still lively enough to keep you busy. Benji showed up again about half way through the week.

“I was hopin’ to take you to dinner sometime,” he finally said once you served him his drink.

You blinked, “Like, a date?”

Immediately you panicked — did people use the word date nowadays? It was the boyfriend conundrum all over again and you were kicking yourself for not having learned more about historical slang or word use.

Benji didn’t seem bothered by your use of phrase, instead shrugging. “Or we can go see a new picture.”

“Oh—”

“Or both,” he said with a chuckle and friendly smile. “What’ya say?”

“Um, I’m— I’m not sure,” you found yourself answering, surprising yourself.

Since your first meeting with Benji, you thought you’d be in this position at some point, and at the time knew firmly that you’d have to kindly turn him down or express your disinterest in anything romantic with this guy.

But now, you found yourself reconsidering. Benji hadn’t been anything but nice and friendly to you since meeting. Sure, the conversations had been flat, but that wasn’t necessarily his fault — you hadn’t really given him much to work with due to your own reservations.

And maybe you’d been too quick to judge with the whole stealing from the company thing. The optimistic (and pathetically lonely) part of you could convince yourself that his math really had just improved over the months, and he didn’t actually have any nefarious intent.

It didn’t hurt that he was quite handsome. You were surprised he didn’t have someone already.

And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to actually agree to go out with him nor turn him down completely. “It’s just I’ve — I’ve got a lot going on right now.”

Benji nodded, still offering you a smile as he set down a coin for his drink. “Maybe another time?”

“Yeah,” you said noncommittally, finally giving him a genuine smile of appreciation.

He smiled back before leaving, giving you a wave as he walked out the door.

At his absence, you found yourself feeling guilty, thinking of what Tommy would think if he found out you were going on a date.

You shook your head — to hell with what Tommy thought. You couldn’t keep up with what may or may not have been going on between the two of you.

It was astonishing when you realized exactly how little time you and Tommy had actually spent together. The time span between that first night at the Garrison and Christmas morning accounted for less than five days. And yet within that time, you’d made out with the man four times and nearly slept with him twice. You felt more connected with him than you’d ever felt with anyone before. And not to mention you’d been tempted to tell him your big secret — hell, Christmas Eve night you’d basically shared the majority of it, just without the time travel aspect.

All that to say that the total time you’d spent with the man had been tiny in relation to the bigger picture, and yet you could not get him out of your mind. The longer you went without seeing him, the heavier your heart grew and the antsier you became.

What the hell was the matter with you anyway? The last time you’d been this strung out over a guy had been in high school when your hormones were running rampant and you had absolutely no self-awareness or all the finely honed self-respect you’d built up over the last decade. You weren’t a teenager — you were too old for these flighty and fruitless games. If the man didn’t want to be with you, (or if all he’d wanted was to sleep with you) he should just tell you.

And now he’d all but banned you from his presence it felt, and your feelings of hurt had officially transitioned into anger.

Why the hell shouldn’t you go on a date? If you were going to be stuck here, why not have a little fun?

“Benji?” You called, just as the door was starting to close. It opened, and he popped his head back into the pub, his brow up in question. “Dinner might be nice. How’s next week?”

——

That Sunday, you were surprised to see it was Polly at your doorstep with the books.

“Morning, love.” She greeted you, shoving the two books into your chest as she walked past you into your apartment. She took a seat at your dining table and began to take off her gloves with a huff, “Ada’s run off again, leaving the book transport to me. Not sure why I’ve got to stay here with you the whole bloody time, but when Thomas insists—“

“Did I do something, Polly?” You asked finally, unable to hold it in any longer as you sat down across from her and set the books on the table top. “It’s like Tommy doesn’t trust me anymore.”

Polly shook her head. “It’s just been chaos with the Digbeth move, that’s all. Half our men are split, leaving the betting shop more vulnerable than we’d all like. It’s nothing you did. Got any tea?”

Her words were encouraging, but the way she dodged her eyes and reached for her paper half way through still gave you that unsettled feeling. She lifted the paper to begin reading, a silent end to your conversation. Taking the hint, you silently poured you both some tea and began your work.

But the back of your mind still churned as you went through the monotonous steps of math and pattern checking. Despite Polly’s reasoning, you still felt like you were being punished for something. You felt a level of guilt beneath your mountain of other emotions because despite all the secrets you had shared with Tommy, there was a pretty big one that you still hadn’t shared. Perhaps he’d finally grown tired of waiting, or had officially decided against trusting you after all.

You physically shook your head as you moved on to the second book, shaking the thought away before you tailspun into a hole that you weren’t prepared to dig yourself out of while company was here.

The thought made you look up at Polly for a moment, who was still reading through her newspaper meticulously.

“Polly, can I ask you something?”

She didn’t look up from her newspaper, “If it’s about Thomas, I can’t help you. That boy’s as unpredictable as ever nowadays.”

“It’s not that. It’s—“ you hesitated, unsure exactly how to approach the situation. Polly lowered her paper and rose an eyebrow. “You told Tommy you thought I was born gypsy.”

She folded up her paper and set it on the table. “I did.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me yourself?”

“It wasn’t my place.”

Your brow creased, “But you told Tommy.”

“I made a calculated decision at the time.”

You hummed, nodding as you looked down, then back up. “I’m not related to the Delphi,” you said tentatively, watching her face as you went on. “At least I don’t think so. To be honest, I’m not even positive if I have any Romani blood in me. I don’t really know anything, still.”

Polly didn’t respond, instead sat there in silence as she waited for you to continue.

“You told Tommy that I had a gift. All because of my tattoo and because I guessed the date of the end of the war—“

“That’s not the only reasons,” Polly added, your eyes shooting up to meet hers. “I read your leaves.”

Your brow creased, “My, what?”

She nodded to the cup in front of you. “Your tea leaves. It’s always been one of my gifts to read tea leaves.”

“Perhaps you should talk to Pol,” Tommy’s voice from the other night triggered your memory. “She’s always been more in tune with that side of things, she could offer you some guidance.”

Your eyes drifted to the nightstand, where you knew the small box Madam Despoina had given you was buried beneath your clothes in the drawer. You hadn’t touched it since you put it there, but the square lump was the first things your eyes snapped to whenever you opened the drawer.

“Wait, isn’t there like an official process to reading leaves?” You countered. Teas and tarot cards were some of the maneuvers your mother had tried to learn herself — but of course when she couldn’t come up with the outcomes she’d wanted, she’d go out and pay ‘experts’ to do her readings for her. Still, she never found what she was looking for.

The years of built up distrust for anything divination relation was causing you to tense at the conversation, but you forced yourself to really listen to Polly.

“You always swirl your tea before you finish it, haven’t you noticed?”

You hadn’t — but now that you thought about it, you realized that you did. You hated the taste of the grains of leaves at the end of your cups, so you always absentmindedly swirled to try and get them to stick to the edges.

“What did you see?”

Polly began to explain a few of her early readings, how every sign pointed to heavy seer powers and a deep concentration to the far future, though something was always just off about every reading. “They began to change after the war ended, once you’d met Thomas. His changed too.”

You swallowed. “Tommy didn’t mention that.”

“I didn’t tell him.”

You asked why.

She chuckled, “It wouldn’t have meant anything to him. He doesn’t believe anymore. Deep down he might, but not enough to have convinced him to let you continue working for the company. That your time with us, with him, weren’t over yet.”

Despite yourself, you scoffed, “You sound like Madam Despoina.”

Polly smirked. “Did you find what you were looking for with the Delphi?”

“Sort of,” your eyes moved down to your hands. “Madam Despoina believes that speaking to my mother will help.”

“I thought your family—“

“Dead,” you answered. “Yeah. She gave me something she said can help me talk to her one last time. I haven’t — I can’t bring myself to do it.”

Polly hummed as she sat back in her seat. “We do believe that those who have left us can visit. Some have the gift to see them, even speak to them. But it can be dangerous. Once you let the spirits in, any spirits, it can be difficult to get rid of them.”

You nodded, taking her words to heart as you absorbed the information. “I— I’m not a fortune teller. But I do have some knowledge of the future. It’s— it’s complicated.”

Polly’s chin and brow rose. “Have you told Thomas?”

“Yes. Everything that I can tell.”

Polly nodded. “Then you’ve got nothing to worry about, love.”

You took a deep breath. “Then what’s with the freeze out?”

“It’s his way of protecting you, I assume.” Polly picked up her paper again. “You did react quite poorly Christmas morning — and the boys weren’t even that banged up. Still surprised none of them were shot. You’re going to need tougher skin if you choose to continue with this life. And I wasn’t lying before, the boys have been nonstop since the holidays. Poor Martha can hardly handle it.”

She lifted the paper between the two of you and you took the signal again to mean the conversation had ended.

You ended the final book audit having only run through what Polly had said twice. She rose to leave and collected her things. You were curious if she was going to grab your cup, but didn’t give it another glance as she walked toward the door.

She turned, “Part of tougher skin means defying Tommy’s orders every now and then. It’ll be just Martha and I tomorrow at the house with the kids. We miss you.”

With that, she gave you a pointed rise of her brow and left.

You smiled as the door closed, feeling rejuvenated. Fuck Tommy and his orders, you thought, lifting your chin up the same way Polly had. You had your pride, you had your own agency, and you could go visit your friends if you damn well wanted to. Two and a half weeks had been enough of a freeze out, you decided.

Tomorrow, you’d go back to the Shelby household. And if he showed up, you’d confront Tommy and tell him exactly how you felt.

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emilykaldwen · 5 months

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The Maiden and the Drowning Boy Rating: Explicit Chapters: 9/21, part 1 of 3 Ships: Aegon II Targaryen x Abrogail Strong, Jacaerys Velaryon x Helaena Targaryen Summary: As the kingdom teeters on the edge of chaos, Alicent Hightower swaps the pieces on the board: Aegon will marry Abrogail Strong, Larys’ younger sister and heir to Harrenhal. Caught in the web of intrigue and political machinations, the pair must figure out where their loyalties lie, and what they mean to one another.

READ ON AO3

Where We Last Left Off: Childhood sweethearts friends Aegon Targaryen and Abrogail Strong were unceremoniously told they were being betrothed. Upon their marriage, they would take residence at Harrenhal, and upon Abby's inheritance, Aegon would become Lord of Harrenhal through his marriage to Abby. HMMM wonder what's up with that.

After some freaking out, the two of them shared their first kiss and have been slowly learning what this new facet of their friendship means. Meanwhile, Helaena's been chafing under Aemond's affections as well as the way many in her family treat her. Cassandra and Floris Baratheon showed up. Cassandra, the girl you never want to be compared to, and Floris, the sweetest lil fawn you've ever met. Abby had an awkward meeting with Cassandra where she realizes not only is Cassandra banging, but way more experienced than her so that was fun!

Then that night, Aegon snuck into Abby's room where they got hot and heavy. I'm sure things are going to keep going great for those two kids.

Chapter Nine - Leave You In Pieces

He closed the short distance between them, his arm snaking around her waist, hand splayed across the smooth curve of her belly to pull her against his chest. Aegon had been letting her set the pace, but here beneath the shaft of sunlight, the treasure she presented was too much for him. He pressed his face against the top of her head where she fit perfectly beneath his chin (if only just, for height eluded him and found his brother instead). He inhaled the scent of her hair, the orange and lemon of the bergamot oil she used for her curls. “Your Grace,” she whispered, and he sighed, fingers flexing against her stomach, fabric bunching slightly beneath his touch, forcing himself to be still, to not beg for more. To not take more.

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dailycass-cain · 10 months

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Cassandra Cain in Video Game Media

Tonight, I'm going to cover the various appearances Cassandra Cain has in video game media. Some might surprise you, even startle you, and even might get you interested in said game (that are available).

Now her first appearance in video game media is a rather infamous one, Batman Dark Tomorrow released for the Game Cube and X-Box. The game is rather infamous for being quite awful for its atrocious controls and camera angles.

Cass (along with Tim Drake Robin) show up after you defeat Stage 3 after beating Scarface & the Ventriloquist. And that's about it. Just a random appearance. 🙃

A fun little note is the game's story was written by Scott Peterson, who had a slight hand in Cass's Vol. 1 ongoing throughout the Puckett/Scott run. So it's highly probable he snuck her in for this scene.

The second appearance of Cass in a video game is one usually forgotten but released a few months after the first, Batman: Toxic Chill (2003). An educational game where you as Batman would solve various puzzles to progress.

The game's character design is HEAVILY influenced by BTAS. However, with a KEY difference, the Batgirl is Cass (and voiced by Christiane Crawford).

Later that same year, we'd get the game's sequel, Batman: Justice Unbalanced, and again Cass would be in the game (voiced again by Christiane Crawford).

Her roles in both games are relatively minor just showing up, and the vocal performance by Crawford is quite good.

After that three-prone assault in 2003, we'd have to wait until 2011 for the next time Cass as Batgirl would show up in a video game. This time in DC Universe Online.

Yeah, you read that date right in 2011, several years after she had abandoned the role (and would soon be wiped away with the New 52).

She appears in the game as a vendor for hero characters. Mindy Raymond voices her in the game.

There's just so great irony in the fact that this game has Cass walking around as Batgirl when DC was shoving Barbara Gordon everywhere else as THE Batgirl at this time.

Not only that, but when Cass was reintroduced as Orphan in 2016, she was still Batgirl here. And the game still exists to this day and she’s still the Batgirl in it!

Scribblenauts Unmasked: A DC Comics Adventure is our next surprising Cass appearance which came out in 2013 (at the HEIGHT of her being labeled "toxic" by DC).

Cass is one of MANY DC characters in the game. She's not just Batgirl in the game, but also her Black Bat persona is here too!

Fun little Easter Egg, if you type in Kasumi you'll get Cass instead (go figure 😝).

2013 would see the release of the mobile version of "Injustice Gods Amongst Us" a vastly different version of the fighting game on consoles and pcs.

However, Cass (a reskinned Babs Batgirl) is among the unlockables in the game. If I recall right from friends who played the game she's highly difficult to fully unlock.

As I said in my Alternate Universe reading guide not much is known about this version of Cass. But she was name-dropped in the last comic released (a prequel to the series, Injustice: Year Zero #2),

2020 would see Cass appear in another mobile game, DC Legends.

This would technically have her appear in her Orphan identity but it's never explicitly listed. In the game she's listed as "Cassandra Cain: The One Who is All".

Much like Injustice, she's hard to unlock buuuuut a bit easier to attain than that game. Once fully geared up and evolved into the game's "Rebirth" mode, she can be an absolute beast and bane to many players.

There is one tiny bits of note. In last year's Gotham Knights video game, it was revealed one of Barbara Gordon's rejected concept costumes was heavily inspired by Cassandra's Batgirl look.

In Batman: Arkham Origins (2013), Cass's pop is amongst the files of rejected assassins Black Mask was pondering to hire to kill Batman.

He's also listed in the game as an acquaintance of Lady Shiva (who does appear in it). Sadly, nothing ever comes of these little bits.

There you have it. Every single video game appearance of Cass. SO FAR...

#cassandra cain #video games #dc comics

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verbal--diarrhea · 10 months

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White Scars

A/N- 😃 i am back guys! Sorry it quite literally took 2 years for me to update this account but why is tumblr so difficult to navigate 😭 anywho, enjoy this next chapter and please be patient with me as I figure this out 🙇‍♀️

Chapter 2:

It’s been a week now. A week avoiding Bela Dimitrescu at all costs. You knew the routes she took around the castle, you knew when she left her room and when she went to eat. It’s almost pathetic how you basically memorized her routine when you were together, trying to “bump into her” whenever you were on duty. I mean, how often can someone encounter the exact same person in a hallway? The answer should be no less than one but you and Bela managed to raise it to nine on a good day. You became very very good at sneaking around, especially at avoiding fellow maids and the other two Dimitrescu sisters. Lady Dimitrescu was no problem too, she rarely entered the west wing of the castle and if she ever did, everyone knew as you could hear her loud footsteps from a distance. Safe to say you were pretty proficient in the art of evasion except there was one problem, Bela, the person you were trying to evade, also stayed in the west wing. It wasn’t healthy that you weren’t confronting her about what had occurred a few nights prior but you were still afraid and still hurt so the most logical solution is to never see her. Yes, completely logical.

The cut was healing well, the skin around it was a faint red, but the wound itself became a scab. Give it another week and it may be all healed. Hopefully, it won’t leave a scar...you don’t need a reminder of Bela on your face. You were done crying over it. No one really asked you about your injury, it was common for maids to bear bruises or cuts. Those who stayed in Bela’s side of the castle were lucky compared to those who stayed on Cassandra’s and Daniela’s side, those maids were lucky if they survived with all their limbs intact.

Right now, you really were wishing you were in Cassandra’s or Daniela’s wing, the dread of meeting Bela was overwhelming at times. Yet in the quiet of the night, you would dream of her; her perfume engulfing your tiny room, her chilly embrace, the soft breaths as she slipped into slumber beside you, and having to drag her off in the morning to rush her back to her bedroom. Sleep didn’t come without nightmares though, images of Bela’s face contorted with anger, that scythe plunging down, you were treading a fine line between fear and love. Love- you scoffed, chances are Bela didn’t even love you, after all you were just some low-class peasant. What Bela probably felt would be the equivalent of a teenage relationship, give it a year before one got bored of the other and it’s over, but in your case, off to the basement to be drained of blood.

The first few days were nerve-wracking, you didn’t know if Bela would search or confront you, though there was nothing to be confronted about as you believed she knew damn well why you were avoiding her. You had asked (more like begged) the head house maid, Simone, to switch you to the night shift, at least for a few weeks and she agreed. By the third day, you were sweeping the corridors in the late night trying to be as quiet as possible. Sleep hasn’t been good anyways, you weren’t used to sleeping alone again, so cleaning was the best way to clear the mind.

Sweeping here and there, you were grateful for the dim lighting. Moonlight peeked in through the windows contrasting with the candle’s red hues. Though the floor was visible, you couldn’t distinguish any shapes that were swept up, part of you knew every once in a while a bone would be found in a dust pile, but you were here long enough to be unfazed by such things. Glancing up you noticed the candle melted about half its height, indicating it was around 3 AM. They would be replaced in the morning and lit later in the evening; with the hundreds of candles around the castle, it was a wonder how the Dimitrescu’s obtained that many in the first place.

Ahead of you laid Bela’s bedroom door, a cursive B carved into the oak wood door. She should be asleep by now, bundled up and dreaming away. Yet instead of soft snoring you hear muffled sniffles through the door, curiosity got the better of you and you edged closer. It dawned on you- she was crying. Your heart clenched at the thought, Bela never cries, and in that moment you wished you could hold her to your chest. No, she hurt you Y/N, just walk away. Forcing your legs to move, you shuffled away from the door, a low ache in your heart at the thought of Bela sad. It wasn’t your place anymore to comfort her.

Bela was level-headed and mature, at least that’s what she told herself as she quickly dispersed into flies and zipped to her bedroom, praying to not bump into you. She too has been avoiding you the last week, and she was pretty sure you were too. At first she had a brilliant plan; she would walk right up to your door, knock on it, beg for your forgiveness and hopefully have hot makeup sex after. That failed after she realized she had no courage to face you. Perhaps it was because she did not want to see your heartbroken face, or did not wish too see the painful mark on your face, Bela herself struggled to understand why she was so afraid; she was Lady Bela, goddammit! Staying confined in her room for most of the day seemed to be the best option, it was hard enough to pretend to be perfectly fine in front of her family, that face crumbled whenever she was alone. Sleep wasn’t an escape either as it was plagued with you leaving her crying into her pillow.

At meals, Bela would eat as quickly as possible, and slip away. Lady Dimitrescu noticed naturally but pushed it aside as she was busy with her experiments for Mother Miranda. Nothing left Cassandra’s and Daniela’s gaze though-- they had been studying their eldest sister for the past week, discussing ways to ask her exactly what happened.

“Okay, the best way is to corner her and force her to tell us,” Daniela looked to Cassandra’s face for approval as she was the youngest in the family.

They were huddled in one of the many guests rooms of the castle, away from the prying ears of their mother and eldest sister. Bela was starting to annoy them with her grumpy mood, never going out to hunt anymore and always cooped up in her room. They had hoped whatever she was dwelling upon would fade in a day or two, but Bela remained somber.

Cassandra swatted the back of Daniela’s head, “are you fucking stupid? That’s the worst way to ask her what’s wrong.”

“Well, she won’t tell us if we don’t force her.”

Frowning, Cassandra stroked her chin, “hmm, you make a good point.”

“And we definitely can’t trick her to tell us-” Daniela leaned back against the armchair, watching Cassandra stand from hers and pace, “Bela’s too smart for that.”

“I know! Hm...okay I have an idea.”

“Go on-”

“We have to be gentle, we approach her in her room later tonight,” Cassandra explained, “we will first try to ask her what’s wrong...”

“And if that fails we force her?”

“Exactly but for we do this all gently-”

“I know, I know,” Daniela rolled her eyes at her sister, “I’ll be gentle.”

“Don’t say anything unnecessary or stupid okay?” An accusatory glance was shot at the younger sister.

Daniela huffed, “I won’t.”

“Oh and also-” Cassandra opened the door of the room, leaving, “don’t say anything to mother.”

“Wouldn’t even dream of it.”

#bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #Bela dimitrescu x reader #resident evil #resident evil village

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cassromano · 3 months

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BASICS

NAME: cassandra romano NICKNAMES: cassie, cass GENDER: cis female PRONOUNS: she/her BIRTHDAY: july 14, 1995 AGE: 28 HEIGHT: 5'7" SEXUALITY: bisexual OCCUPATION: mail carrier LIVING: downtown, apartment with banks TIME IN STARLIGHT OAKS: her whole life, minus a few months

DETAILS

POSITIVE TRAITS: intelligent, friendly, curious, fun-loving NEGATIVE TRAITS: naive, impulsive, oversharer, people pleaser STYLE: flowery dresses, soft colours, big boots

HISTORY TW IMPLIED DEPRESSION

When she looks back, she thinks maybe her undoing was her own doing.

Always desperate to impress, she ran herself into the ground to remain top of her class in as many as she could, joined extracurricular after extracurricular. As she grew, so did her parents expectations. Every academic year, she had to work harder for those 'good job!'s and 'we're proud of you!'s.

By high school, her parents were already talking about all the things she could do with her future — lawyer, doctor, surgeon, actuary. She settled on law school, inspired in part by Elle Woods and how her parents' eyes lit up the brightest whenever it was brought up in conversation.

Through it all, her older brother was her biggest supporter. When their parents would lament about her dropping to second in class, her brother would take her out for ice cream. When she fell asleep at her desk, he'd move her to her bed and turn off the light. Sometimes she'd complain that he gave her too much grace, but he never faltered regardless.

Moving to another state for university should've been her chance to experience life without everyone's expectations weighing her down, but she could never quiet those voices in her head. A month in she's already struggling, and by the end of her first year, her near daily calls to her brother have persuaded her that there's no shame in coming home.

She moves in with him when she returns to avoid disappointed looks, but it's inevitable. Family dinners are uncomfortable, but continue almost every fortnight even now, a decade later, just to remind her what she could have been had she prioritised her education short-term instead of her peace of mind. These days it's become easier to let those words bounce off her shinier spine.

Initially, she's only supposed to be a temporary mail carrier over the festive season, but she loves it so much that she re-applies at the first sign of more permanent vacancies, and now three years later, she still loves it just as much as the first day.

These days, she's steadily unlearning all her own teachings from childhood; to take breaks, to learn new things at her own speed, to not worry about what others think. It's a slow process, but she's got the rest of her now much more peaceful life to figure it all out.

TRIVIA

Cassie has a small tattoo on the inside of her left hand middle finger — the outline of a standard heart shape. She got it before returning home from her one year in university to symbolise the first 'big' decision she felt she'd made entirely on her own.

LINKS

connections

#starlight.intro #depression tw #tw depression #gotta go unfortunately but i'll be back tomorrow for plotting! ♡

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dustbummy · 2 years

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CHAMOMILE DREAMS

Jinx x fem! kirraman! reader

Ofc reader is written to be of any color or body type

And I apologize if you don't like chamomile tea

And you are hinted at being taller than jinx (blink and you'll miss it type hint)

(Name) is adorable and oblivious and very gay.

I don't own shit

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

╾დ╼

(Name) rests her head against the balconies steel bars. The young woman sets down her heated mug, opening her leather book again to read the words.

The calming scent of chamomile wafts through the silent air, for once all of piltover settled in for a quiet night. (Name) knows she shouldn't be out here, if her mother or sister were around they'd both rightfully scold her. "What if the jinx was watching?!"

Right now she doesn't care. The night breeze felt nice against her skin and the moon looked beautiful from her spot by the balcony. Jinx or not nothing would ruin her alone time.

The (haircolored) girl laid her palm upwards on her crossed thigh, the other holding her book still while she read the tiny inked words.

Her bottom lip catches in her teeth, biting back a smile, legs shifting out from under her and lifting soundlessly up into the air. The young woman forcing down the fat squeal that almost rips from her throat. Not wanting to disturb any poor lurking people nor reveal her location to her mother.

But she was just so happy! The two main leads had just shared their first kiss after such a strenuous and exasperating miscommunication.

(Name) in her joy, let's out a barely heard giggle, swallowing it back down instantly and embarrassesly covering her lower face with her hand. Idiot! Mother definitely heard that.

The sudden sound of scurrying feet and scattered rocks is heard. (Name) immediately pauses on the balcony. Going completely still in fear and embarrassment as she strains her ears to listen only to the almost silent wind. The book is closed (and bookmarked thank you very much) in her lap, she closes her eyes, expecting at any moment for Cassandra kirraman's disappointed voice to fill the already tense air.

Instead, she hears a raspy teasing one. "I didn't know pilities came out after dark."

At the sound of her voice, (name) lifts her head, her (eyecolor) irises falling on the figure of a woman who narrowed hers slightly, she looks to be around (name)'s age. The woman before her isn't very tall, maybe a little shorter than average, and (name)'s on her knees, though her stance and general untouchable demeanor definitely added on some height. Her long azure hair looked carefully braided into two perfect plaits, thrown around her shoulder, strands slightly touching the ground.

A smidge of what looked like ash or cinder had been wiped into her cheek, as if she ran a dirty hand along the tough pale skin.

Upon looking at her, (name) couldn't help but feel a dash of envy, she's so pretty. Her nose, straight and buttoned uniquely patterned freckled covered the expanse of it, (a nose (name) would have KILLED for in when she was younger), lips downturned and perfectly pouty, beautifully suited for her face. Who was this woman?

(Name)'s eyes quickly rove up her figure, not able to see much due to the obscure moonlight, eyes instead shooting up to her magenta shining ones. The unnamed woman before her quirks a dark eye brow up in question, sidesteping a little and placing something that name couldn't see behind her back.

What's the-Oh- Get it together (name) she asked you a question.

(Name) shakes her head, ridding herself of any further clustering thoughts and clears her throat. "Um, h-hi?" The girl curses herself mentally for stuttering, she never stutters.

"H-hi." The blue haired girl mocks her with a shake of her head, her hand raises slowly to give her a small finger wag.

(Name) closes her fingers around the book. Holding it to her chest as she struggled to think of what to say.

"I can practically see the cogs turnin' in your brain toots don't even bother." The woman in front of her gives a small huff of a laugh, enclosing her hands around her arms in a hug as she stared down at the poor girl.

"You're really pretty." The words slip out before (name) can stop herself, forming quickly on her tongue and fumbling out of her lips faster than she could've taken them back. (Name) wants to crawl in a hole and die. The bewildered look the woman gives her alone is almost enough for her to build up the courage to jump off the balcony.

The (haircolored) girl tightens her hold on the book in her grip. Screwing her eyes shut as she waited for something, anything from the individual in front of her.

Muttering is heard in front of her, low and rapid, almost too fast for (name) 's brain to comprehend.

"Of course!-"

"No i didn't forget-"

"Shut up!"

The last one is more if a whispered shout. Her voice grew slightly louder, (name) winces hoping neither of her overprotective family members heard the sudden noise.

The bluenette notices (name)'s movement rather quickly. And seems to calm down at that, growing quiet as a tense silence filled the air.

Twenty seconds later, the girl speaks up. "Thank you." Her voice was so, different. Soft and harsh at the same time. Raspy as if she'd been holding herself back from throttling the closest person to her. Angry, she sounded forever angry. (Name) can't help but wonder why. She's obviously from the undercity, she was most likely just another poverty stricken kid that slipped through the proverbial cracks. Or literal. But it was soft. As if it broke years ago, and had been scattered ever since. Distant and almost, hollow.

(Name) opens her mouth, forcing her brain to draw any semblance of a thought together. Ask her her name, how old she is, something!

Sadly, getting choked up before she could get a word out. Embarrassment flowing over her as she shut her mouth again. The woman doesn't notice.

"Hm." The bluenette tilts her head, almost as if she had been responding to someone else's words. Keeping her flaming pink irises trained on the night gown clad (name) in front of her.

Her cheshire hues stare into names (eyecolor) and reflect a sense of, drowning? Like the mysterious girl had been beautiful siren that (name) had knowingly gotten too close to. Now sinking under the waters surface silently with only the light bubbles escaping her screaming throat. Though, they give her a sense of relief as well, a sense of calm before the literal storm. As if in her last moments she'd been comforted by the very same murderous monster, her lithe pale arms encircling around her whilst she shushed her into an eternal sleep, dragging her body further under the fuschia colored waves.

To (name)'s disappointment, the blue haired woman slowly starts to back away from the terrace. Slinking into the moonlights darkness with only the clinking of metal alerting name that she was even there.

(Name) watches her leave, silently wishing for her to come back. She's gone all to quickly, a quiet laugh being the only thing left of her soon enough.

The (hair colored) girl finds herself outstreching her arm to were the strange girl just stood. A sense of sadness filling (color)ette at the thought of never seeing her again.

Though, she doesn't let that show, instead picking up her book, furiously searching for the previous page, a soft sigh leaving her once she reaches it. This is all a dream. She thought. You'll wake in your bed the next morning finding that you've been there all along.

The surprisingly ambrosial mixture of bubblegum, gunpowder and gasoline that stayed there long after she left begged to differ.

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I don't know of I'm all that confident in this but I delivered!

This will might have a follow up, might not.

#jinx x reader #arcane x reader #jinx supremacy #jinx league of legends #arcane league of legends

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yumeko2sevilla · 8 months

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"Okay, okay I'm up now.."

Character Inspiration | Playlist

Name: Yukiharu Shirokami

Alias: Yukiharu-san/ Shirokami-san, Monsieur Militaire (By Rook), Shiraharu (By Erin), Haruka (By the first years), Swordfish-chan (By Floyd), Child Of Man (By Malleus), Herbivore (By Leona), Haru (By Cater)

Twisted From: Cassandra Gothel (Tangled) + Dipper Pines (Gravity Falls) + Kisaragi Shintarou ( Kagerou Project)

Voice Actors/ Seiyuus:

_Hirose Daisuke( Japanese)

_Khoi Dao (English + Vietnamese)

─────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────

Japanese: 白神雪治

Birthday: October 11 (Libra)

Age: Around 19?

Height: 195 cm

Gender: Transgender FTM (He/They)

Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous but mostly Right

Homeland:__

Family:

Kotoha Shirokami née Hakurei (Mother/Japanese)

Soraru Shirokami (Father/ Half Vietnamese)

Unnamed Younger Brother (Deceased?)

Grade: Freshman

Dorm: Heartslabyul

Class: A (No.16)

Club: Board Game Club

Best Subjects: Enigmics, Arts

Hobbies: Sleeping, Drawing, Playing Rhythm Games, Reading

Pet Peeves: Someone who can't be serious at times.

Favorite Foods: Caffeine Drinks, Vietnamese Foods

Least Favorite Food: None?

Talents: Dealing With Deadlines, Remember things, Graphic Designing

(P/S: "A secretive first year who is cold and distant. Born from a cursed clan, he's forced to wield the curse all by himself.")

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Personality:

With a default expression is a blank frown on his face, Yukiharu may be an apethetic person from other views. And they aren’t wrong. The NRC students often see them as a cold and quiet person, who always appears with a tired appearance. Even if he answers you politely, it seems in his voice that they don't want to talk at all.

They have a habit to be rather blunt at times, even that isn't very nice for other people.

For a student from another world with magic, Yukiharu blends in pretty well among the students. He was quick to understand how the subjects works, and how they were different from his own world.

To strangers, Yukiharu is an expressionless person in a way. Of course they could still express emotions on their face, but people found it strained, forced. He isn't, really. They just can’t understand the concept of human emotions, including himself and that leads to him struggling to emphatise with others. Yet they will try to comfort the Overblot victims, with a crooked smile and a soft voice.

Yukiharu is actually pretty nice. He isn't afraid to help people, in their own ways. Although they couldn't emphatise with them, that doesn't mean he will leave them alone. So he will just keep quiet and help them, because that's the only way he could figure out.

Background:

WARNING: Yukiharu's origin will contain mentions of murder, power abuse, torture and sexual assult. Please click out if you're uncomfortable with this kind of topic!

Through 200 years, the Shirokami clan, represented all sorts of misfortune has committed countless sins for too long. Murder, arson, terrorism,... There was almost no crimes that they have done, excluding sexual assult or abuse, brought terror to the land of Akihabara. Althought most of the cases at that time had their influences, the villagers couldn't do anything as the Shirokamis were the most wealthy and powerful clan in Akihabara.

That was until the daughter of the Onizaburo clan, Mirai was tortured and died by the wife of the Shirokami clan representive. Before her death, Mirai put a curse on the Shirokami family which lasted for centuries.

Years later, in a hospital of Ho Chi Minh City, young Yukiharu Shirokami was born. Being the youngest member to endured the curse since his birth.

[The rest of this file is currently under maintenace.]

Unique Magic:

Yukiharu's Unique Magic, Clockworker Lullaby allows him to manipulate time of a specific target or even all of them in a wide range, expect those that they touch right before they use it. Even it can be very useful at times, but if he activates this ability too many in a short time, thee will have side effects such as severe headaches and cough out blood.

Trivia

His surname "Shirokami" means "White God", a kind of reference to the two demonic god who guide the souls to the afterlife in China.

The name "Yukiharu" can be divive into two parts, "Yuki" means snow and "Haru" in here means "to manage" .

Yukiharu is mixed between Vietnamese and Japanese.

Yukiharu tends to speak Vietnamese when they get irritated, especially during the Overblot.

A small talent that the first years know, Yukiharu is actually an expert in rhythm games. One time, he tied with Idia, considered they both got All Prefect.

Although he hates deadlines, it's ironic that one of his talents is doing deadlines

He can get quite brutal when it comes to fighting.

Yukiharu is Demiromantic Pansexual.

They can use almost everything as a weapon, excluding humans.

Yukiharu is implied to have Alexithymia.

Yukiharu's origin was inspired by the Onibi series by MASA Works Design.

#twst oc #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #twst yume #shirokami yukiharu

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queer-edmundpevensie · 2 months

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Inquisitor Giana Anastasia Trevelyan

Age (Start of Game): 27

Zodiac: Taurus

Height: 5'9

Sexuality: Queer

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Class: Rogue - Dual Wield - Assassin

Key Relationships

Kalin Derrinsborn (Thane, "Brother")

Cullen Rutherford (Lover)

Cassandra Pentaghast (Lover)

Dorian Pavus (Best Friend)

Varric Tethras (Best Friend)

Iron Bull (Friend)

Origin

Giana was born a Trevelyan noblewoman, who despised her family, her homeland, the Chantry, and the Game. She rebelled strongly against their normative, pompous expectations, forsaking their ideals of a demure, submissive damsel of a daughter.

At age fifteen, Ostwick nobleman and friend of her father Earl Theon Halmstrong spent an extended stay at her parents' estate. Giana woke late one night to find herself being assaulted, pinned to the bed. She broke free, and out of fear, accidentally killed the Earl, cracking his skull. Furious, her parents called her a whore, accusing her of seducing the Earl and killing him in a fit of jealousy or rage. After learning her parents planned to have her tried and potentially face execution, Giana fled the Marches and never returned.

From there, she worked in secret as a spy and assassin-for-hire for four years, focused primarily on cases of vengeance and vigilantism. She was a nomad, with no home and no friends, until coming across a small, reclusive tribe in the depths of the Frostback mountains called the Vothrak. After a pack of red lions killed several villagers, including their Thane, Giana assisted the tribe in chasing the lions out and reclaiming their home. In their gratitude, the newly-appointed Thane, Kalin Derrinsborn, son of Thane Orryn Derrinsborn, offered her a place in their community.

Giana, young and curious, accepted, and inevitably took her initiation rites, which included the tattooing around her eye. She swore off unnecessary contact with "Velshemmen", meaning "the Outside", learned their language, and lived as a Vothrak for eight years.

Through interactions with the Dalish (with whom the Vothrak trade, help protect lands, and trust), Giana, still working as a spy for her tribe, learned of rumors that Orlesian Chantries were taking bribe money to protect and foster anti-mage and anti-Dalish mercenaries, potentially responsible for the heinous mass murder of Clan Dylvallyn. Giana travelled to the Conclave to collect intel under her given name, claiming to serve as a spokeswoman for her estranged family.

Personality

Key words: Selfless, Protective, Courageous, Sardonic

Depending on who you ask, you can come across some quite contrasting descriptions of Giana Trevelyan - which is just how she likes it.

As a leader, she is cunning, collected, and valiant - quick to run first into battle, head of her pack. Giana never strays from the bad and the ugly, like many political figures; she fights her own battles and prioritizes the "little guy" at every possible moment. She devotes herself to serving those in need and expects those who follow her to do the same. At times, she seems aggressive and intimidating - not only for her titles, but in her nature. Confident and commanding, she took an oath to protect her people and does so with an iron fist and a righteous fury.

Ask amongst the Inner Circle who Giana Trevelyan truly is, and you'll meet a much different tale. To her friends and lovers, Giana is a selfless protector who wants only to make the world the best place it can be. Cassandra will tell you her growth: a silent, trepid prisoner who far outgrew any and all expectations, who stepped up in a time of great need and has not wavered since. Dorian will tell you her power: a woman who witnessed the end of the world and laughed in its face, who swore herself to a cause so daunting any other would run screaming. Varric will tell you of her humility: a legend who sits down to games of Wicked Grace, who grimaces at her titles and buys rounds for her soldiers in the Tavern. The Iron Bull will tell you of her laugh: sometimes loud and infectious, spilling out at his dirty jokes, or soft and flirtatious, after whispering something in Cassandra's ear around the campfire, or a threat, usually following a noble's racist remarks or pushy Chevaliers trying to earn her favor. Cullen will tell you of her heart: the sleepless nights she spends making sure all her people are cared for, her happy eyes watching refugee children play in the courtyard, the way she makes time for (almost) every member of her circle to unwind and bond.

(He will not tell anyone though how she brings him meals when she knows he's working late, how she sits on the battlements writing songs: songs she'll sing so softly when he or Cassandra wake screaming, how her breathless voice gives him chills when she calls him "beautiful" and "good" and "perfect" behind closed doors. No, those are his and his alone.)

Others may call her lesser things: bitch, crude, sarcastic, savage. Take them with a grain of salt, for she does that with intention. Giana would rather be controversial than two-faced, and rather be hated by the exploiters than the exploited.

Giana Trevelyan Appearance

Giana Trevelyan Aesthetic

#dragon age inquisition #inquisitor trevelyan #my inquisitor #oc: giana trevelyan #i love her v much #cassandra pentaghast #cullen rutherford #dorian pavus #varric tethras #the iron bull

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sybillctrelawney · 8 months

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had a dream so big and loud i jumped so high i touched the clouds. i stretched my hands out to the sky. i howled at the moon with friends and then the sun came crashing in. but all the possibilities; no limits, just epiphanies. don't wake me now.

basics.

name: sybill cassandra trelawney. meaning: prophetess and oracle. will help tap into their inner magic. nickname: sybbie. syb. birthday: february 23rd. pisces. age: twenty-two. pronouns: she + her. sexuality: romantic asexual. bisexual. siblings: none. parents: benjamin trelawney (father, deceased). iris trelawney nèe fox (mother). other family: anne fox (maternal grandmother). cassandra trelawney (great-great-grandmother, deceased). languages: english. current residence: hogwarts. born: cornwall, england.

wizard fun.

hogwarts house: ravenclaw. hogwarts year: eleven. area of study: divination / universal certificate. extracurriculars: astrology (president). herbology club. affiliation: neutral. pet: bengal cat, eeyore. blood status: half-blood. species: witch. patronus: dapple gray mare. boggart: her father's car crash. amortentia scent: sea salt air, stardust, animal hair, grass. wand type: willow, unicorn hair, 10 ⅛ inches.

appearance.

height: 5'2" hair color: dark brown. eye color: brown. hair style: thick, straight and has character. fashion style: prep school + nerdy chic.

personality.

positive traits: + whimsical + open-minded + hopeful negative traits: - too trustful - flighty - frazzled

theme song: wildflowers by tom petty.

quick facts.

father died at nine. where she gets her moral compass from. shaped her life completely. they were best friends. his death was her first vision.

didn't have a tight knit group of friends. but very friendly and never turning anyone away, no matter who they are or what they stand for.

very academic yet head in the clouds all at once.

during fifth year she did fortune telling for people just to get people's attention. she began to lie about what she saw. she angered herself so much and during that summer vowed to never do it again and hasn't since.

stays neutral and doesn't care about the war.

headcanons.

updated frequently.

bio.

[ tw: parental death. ]

the stars aligned in cornwall, england when magical father, benjamin and muggle mother, iris, welcomed sybill, forming the three musketeers. the family was tight knit and supportive of one another. she and her father were particularly close, a glorified daddy’s girl. iris loved seeing the two of them grow close as she had never had a father figure of her own.

sybill was strongly encouraged her to explore her abilities. it wasn't since her great-great-grandmother, cassandra, that anyone had shown signs of having visions and being a seer. they had always told her that the truth laid within her and facts are what the world saw, both of which she needed to believe in. it was a hard concept for her to grasp due to the fact that she lived in her own head, but sybill listened. she would go to work with benjamin at the cornwall library and read books on books learning all she could about the muggle world. there she was, teaching herself before ever going to school. she longed to learn and her parents nurtured her desire. but the one day she didn’t go to the library, tragedy hit.

sybill was nine years old. sybill had her first vision. benjamin died. sybill stood still, her voice dropped octaves, and she said her benjamin wasn’t coming home. she didn’t remember saying anything but she could recall an empty feeling. a blank feeling came over her and like something had been ripped from her chest. once she came to, she was ice cold and shivering. her vision didn’t show her what exactly happened. all she knew is he was there and then BAM. no more. his earthly presence was gone. this vision, her first, terrified her. she didn’t want this gift if it was going to show her things like that. for a brief moment, sybill actually had the thought that if he died, she should have died with him. he was her rock and she, his. her only way to understand death was through her first vision. iris stood up to the plate, not to replace her father but to be a strong parent. she didn’t know how to help foster her daughter’s gift, but told sybill that her father would be proud of her for continuing the line in their family. he wouldn’t want her to give up. -- this stuck with sybill because she knew her mother was right. she fought to never give it up in her father’s name: trelawney.

when sybill’s letter from hogwarts came it was bittersweet. it was something she had been waiting for since she could breathe but her father wasn’t there to hug in celebration and to see her off. at king’s cross iris held her still tiny sybill just a little more and sniffled, slipping something into the young girl’s bag. “you almost forgot this.” it was the copy of winnie the pooh benjamin had given to sybill as a gift, one of her prized possessions. she reached out and hugged iris a little tighter with tears in her eyes. the time had come to get on the train for the first time, get on the boats and enter the dining hall for the first time. and, finally, to be sorted.

it was no surprise that the self-educating sybill was sorted into ravenclaw, where the mind was most valued -- and benjamin’s old stomping grounds. she sat at the table with her back straight, head held high, smile on her face and with pride. she was where she was supposed to be. the sorting felt like it was a sign that she could, indeed, live in both the worlds her parents described and she did so to the best of her abilities. later that night she wrote an owl home to her mother to tell her how she felt that things were going to be fantastic, that it felt right and that she loved her. this would become a routine each night before bed.

sybill loved being at hogwarts though she did have trouble fitting in. she wasn’t entirely shocked by that. she always knew she was different, but not that different. It wasn’t easy to make friends, but she saw the best in people, always spoke up and never let a sad face be alone. she knew sadness and didn’t want that for another soul, no matter the circumstance. however, because of her desire to fit in, she did something questionable her fifth year. the biggest thing she was ashamed of.

the other students knew she was highly adept in divination and was a seer; it was something she was proud of and didn’t see a reason to hide it. there was this first person to come to her and asked what she saw in their future. sybill to seize up and had to make a quick decision. yes or no. she chose yes. after that one person, word got around and people came to sybill as though they’d been friends for years. after some time, she had to begin lying. she couldn’t read everyone’s cards or tea leaves and she certainly wasn’t having visions for anyone. over that summer she made the decision that she wasn’t going to do it anymore. it was against her moral code. she was livid with herself that she did it in the first place, all to get attention. after telling people no it was no surprise that those people drifted away as quickly as they came. it broke sybill’s heart but deep down she knew why they’d been there in the first place -- and it wasn’t for her. from then on out, sybill’s compass was where she followed.

the years passed and sybill began growing into a young woman, she looked around her and saw that fellow students were seriously dating and some were even getting betrothed -- already. she couldn’t believe it. all sybill wanted was to continue learning, cultivate her arts of divination, astronomy and herbology. she wanted to discover where she would go with her talents. she wanted to keep learning, to know everything about everything. one field of study wouldn’t be enough for her, leaving her no time for romance -- if anyone even wanted something romantic with her. either way, she was preoccupied. also either way, friendships were the relationships she yearned to see thrive. that’s what she reminded herself anyway.

as the war comes closer to home, she tries to maintain a neutral stance but it’s hard because she’s sybill. she always sticks out because of how she carries herself; head in the clouds and without a care in the world with only one life to live. if her father’s death taught her anything, it was to live each day as though it was the last. he wouldn’t want her wasting it on the chance that something could happen because someday it will, so why fear living? she wasn’t going to live in fear. and she wasn’t going to live in anger or bitterness. her heart was pure. too pure to pick a side in a war that shouldn’t exist. so she wakes up, puts on her dresses, brushes her hair and teeth then sets off for a day full of what? she doesn’t know but is excited to find out.

#bio.#nox;intros

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seedsinmygarden · 8 months

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Peter Green, the Nerd

“I don’t stare, I observe. Your sweater is inside out, by the way.”

Basic Information

Identifying Gender/Species: Cisgender Human Male, he/him pronouns.

Birthdate: December 3rd, 1874 (Sagittarius)

Blood Status: Muggle-born

Wand: Notched design, Dusty Pink color. Beech wood, dragon heartstring core, 11”, supple flexibility.

Pets?: A female black cat with blue eyes named Persephone.

Appearance

Height and Body Type: Slightly tall at 5’11, and doesn’t grow much more past that. Not many muscles but he’s not really scrawny either, giving him a rectangle body type.

Hair: Well-combed dirty blond hair that remains straight. A little longer than most— he doesn’t get a haircut often.

Eyes: Green eyes with brown specks, like a dyed green leather book. He does wear glasses, a pair of black circular ones— his vision isn’t horrible, but the glasses certainly help.

Scars and Other Marks: None, really. Semi-tan skin from always living on the coastal town.

Clothing: Most often just the Ravenclaw uniform or really anything Ravenclaw related. He doesn’t have a lot of clothes from home, really, and he doesn’t really go clothes shopping. He just has what he has. However, one thing he does treasure is his mother’s scarf. It no longer smells like her after years, but he still holds onto it for the sentimential value it holds.

Personality

Not really shy, just quiet. Prefers to sit silently rather than chat, but doesn’t mind if someone comes up and starts chatting with him (as long as he’s not busy with something important).

Book nerd. Book smart. The Hermione Granger of the 1892 graduating class. Jack of all trades, master of none, better than a master of one.

He wavers with Cassius, Amit, Cressida, and the other braniacs. He doesn’t care where his rank is, he’s not competitive about it.

Takes no shit. He won’t hesitate to put someone in their place if he felt they deserved it.

Prefers brain over brawn. He’ll use his words— and boy is he good with his words! He’s got a sharper tongue than anyone in the school, including the professors. He knows exactly what to say, when to say, and how to say it.

Home Life

Birthplace: A coastal village in Wales.

Birth Parents: Robert and Charlotte Green

Adopted?: Yes.

Adoptive Parents: Kit and Cassandra Gray

Siblings?: None.

Other Guardian Figures: None.

Places of Residence: Born and raised in that Wales coastal village, but Hogwarts quickly became a home he would hold close to his heart, even if he doesn’t have a lot of friends. He’s perfectly content just being within those walls.

Hogwarts Life

House: Ravenclaw

Quidditch?: Nope. He feels he doesn’t have the athleticism, but he is still involved as Ravenclaw’s commentator.

Clubs: Runs the Hogwarts Herald student newspaper. Will occasionally attend meetings for Tommy’s Game Club, but isn’t involved to the point he’s an official part of the club.

Other Activites: Studies plenty. Most of his time is spent reading, however, and he’s often found in the library for it.

Romance?: Sure. He’s not really into it, but if there’s a cute guy… yeah, why not? He’ll entertain the idea, but he knows not to take it too far if he truly isn’t interested.

Patronus: To be learned.

Animagus: To be learned.

Boggart: To be learned.

Amortentia: To be learned.

Trivia

Mother died in childbirth, and his father died in a work accident when he was very young. The only blood family he had left was his aunt and uncle, aunt being his mom’s sister. The two weren’t close, so Peter didn’t exactly have a happy family relationship with them.

Not to say it wasn’t bad either! They were basically just people living under the same roof. There was no good relationship, no bad, just amicable. His aunt and uncle cared for him as one would care for a child, but they didn’t care enough to want to bond or actively spend time.

Peter is the ONLY KID that Madam Scribner remotely likes.

He’s a nice boy, he keeps quiet, he’ll even occasionally help her put returned books away and help other students when they’re looking for a book. Kind of became the unofficial librarian’s assistant.

#hogwarts legacy #hl oc #fanfic #hogwarts #peter green #peter's dittany #cassius briarwood #amit thakkar #cressida blume #thomas dharby #madame scribner #madam scribner

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ask-the-minus-gang · 2 years

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Muses!:

Name: beta

Age: 19

Gender: transgender male

Bio: beta is the most rational and smartest of the trio of BFs,he’s talented in singing and he accepts everyone for who they are,he wasn’t always this way,he was originally a girl named Braelyn,growing up with MB and blue in a very big family,but unlike everyone else,he felt wrong in his body,it didn’t feel right,once he told his parents they very soon figured out he was trans,the whole family saved up money to give beta what he wanted,a chance to get top surgery! He did once they earned enough money,and he couldn’t be happier,so every pride month after that,he wouldn’t just celebrate his pride,but his family like it was Christmas.

Name: MB (mean boyfriend)

Age: 19

Gender: male

Bio: despite being nicknamed ‘mean boyfriend’ as a joke by his family,he’s not very mean,in fact he can be quite sweet! He’s mainly called mean as he’s very protective over his friends,family and girlfriend,he’s also the scariest when he’s furious,in fact when at the height of his anger,he has broken several controllers. Despite this,he shows care and love to his loved ones and is generally a patient person,he also has a soft spot for children,however MB hides a dark secret,there is always dark shadows under his eyes,even when energized,he has to comb his hair the most as it gets very messy at night and even in the summer,he insists hiding his neck…why is that?..well,that’s a mystery for you all to solve.

Name: blue

Age: 19

Gender: male

Bio: the best way to describe blue is a bean,he is a very sweet and kind man,who is described as someone who would never hurt a fly,one thing to note about him is that unlike beta and MB and just like the rest of his family aside from his dad,he is part dog,his dog ears hidden under his hat and having a small puppy like tail,and even a bit of fluff on his body. Despite this however,he’s not the brightest pup,as he’s fooled easily and he is very sensitive to people shouting at him as he also has sensitive hearing,sometimes breaking down into tears like a poor kid,but even still,he is practically the heart of the BF trio.

Name: cherry

Age: 19

Gender: female

Bio: cherry was born to pure blood demons and she was born as a half demon,despite that,cherry is a very sweet demon,her parents are very protective of thier baby girl,so much they sometimes isolated her in her home,but then she met the BFs and fell in love,as she bonded with them,they all discovered polyamorous relationships and now the BFs share a poly relationship with GF,along with a certain Dino.

Name: pico

Age: 20

Gender: male

Bio: pico was originally a human,who did his best In school and was a positive and optimistic kid,that was until 2004,where a fellow student of his named Cassandra shot up the school,killing almost every student,the only survivors were pico and his friends,nene,and Darnell. However before Cassandra was caught by the police,she shot a blast of magic at the three that was so powerful that it knocked them out cold,while nene had been severely scarred,pico and Darnell had been cursed,pico turning into a dinosaur and Darnell into a lizard. When his parents saw pico,they kicked him out of the house,declaring that that monster was not their son. Pico often spent time with his buddies at a junk yard,with him now being homeless. Darnell gave him a birthday present that was a dino onesie,and he loved it so much he still wears it to this day. However things started to go down hill,as both picos friends died a few months apart,nene from suicide and Darnell from messing with explosives,having nowhere else to go,pico knew he had to do something,so he started making music and making a name for himself,thanks to his legendary reputation,it wasn’t hard for him to gang an audience,he’s also his covered that thanks to his mutation,he can grow to the size of Godzilla! He mostly does it at midnight to look at the stars. Upon meeting the BFs it was a slow process but they progressed from friends,to lovers,sharing the BFs with cherry,his also very strong,his muscles being seen on his scaly arms he often does this to Reese the BFs who get very flustered,and he also has a soft spot for children just like MB. However his is impacted my the past in cases of depression,anxiety and PTSD,despite this,he still carries on as a bad *** war machine!

Names: skid and pump

Ages: s: 8 p: unknown

Genders: male

Bio: although no one knows how,skid was born as a mutated skeleton,with a big hand and his bottom half being a black inky blob,his skeleton figure even being affected as his bones were grey rather then white,he was bullied so much at school that his mom had to make him do homeschool. Skid often cried cause of how lonely he felt. One day during October,he was watching some kids across the street carve pumpkins,when skid got an idea,he can just make a friend! So using magic he never thought he had,he created pump! Pump is a very energetic boy,often bouncing around and often described as having the zombies 247,both kids are energetic,sweet and love the spooky month and everything about it! The gang raise the kids as honorary parents.

Inspired by: ( @wolftails-funkin-arts / @minusgangtime )

#blog promo #muse list #beta #MB #mean boyfriend #blue #boyfriend #girlfriend #cherry #pico #skid and pump #transgender #tw sui implied #tw school shooting #tw death mention #tw bullying

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endlessly-cursed · 2 years

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𝑮𝒊𝒂 𝙎𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙩

"𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙘𝙧𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙧𝙣𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙄 𝙖𝙢 𝙖 𝙬𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣; 𝙖 𝙬𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙚 𝙚𝙭𝙞𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙙𝙤𝙚𝙨𝙣'𝙩 𝙙𝙚𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙚𝙣 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛."

BASICS

Full Name: Gia Estelle Somerset

Age: Differs from the era

Birthday: 10th of September, 1917

Weight: 68kg

Height: 1.60m

Faceclaim:

HOGWARTS

House: Hufflepuff

Wand: Pear wood, unicorn hair, 12 inches, flexible

Amortentia (what they smell like): expensive cologne, fresh pine, parchment, old books and sponge

Best class: Transfiguration, DADA

Worst class: History of Magic, Flying

Wanted career: Translator

Quidditch: Keeper

Extracurriculars: Duelling Club, Frog Choir, Hipogriff Club

FAMILY

Mother: Primrose Sabrina Gray

Primrose was very well-loved and admired by her children, and Gia grew up with a far more experienced and mature mother figure, and she got to know her mother in more depth and always aspired to be like her. She admired her mother and did her best to make her proud.

Father: Malcolm Stolberg-Burke

Gia was definitely her father’s favourite, and for what her elder siblings told her, he felt guilty for having had missed two years of her life-which she could hardly blame him for, for she by then had no conscience and her mother, according to soruces, did an stellar job- and was always spoiled by him, the apple of his eye and always did her best to make him proud of her.

Sibling(s): Vincent Alexander Somerset, older brother

Gia looks up to her big brother, and not only because he is the heir of the estate, but she admires him and his sense of duty and leadership. Though it annoys her that he is so overprotective of her, she nevertheless appreciates that he’s involved in her life, unlike many girls born with a huge year gap between their siblings, especially the brothers.

Eldest sister: Alexandra Victoria Somerset

Gia admired her big sister too: she was extremely beautiful, poised, elegant and the perfect picture of a daughter of Winbourne, and Vincent’s heir should he not sire any living heirs, and the second most likely to inherit, unlike Gia, who was highly unlikely. She was a second mother figure when growing up, often seeing her like a child to take care of instead of a sister, thing she eventually grew out of. Even after she got married at 22, they still corresponded -they did noy trust telephones- and shared many secrets she didn’t dare to tell her mother.

Middle sister: Lenore Callista Somerset

Gia always felt puzzled and amused by her sister, Lenore, only six years younger, still a considerable age gap, but the two of them got on well. She was the most like their father and always teased her, calling her ‘Miss Father’. Still, the two of them loved and cared for the other, and Lenore looked out for her when Alix graduated.

Middle sister: Jocelyn Cassandra Somerset

Uncle(s): William Berkeley ( @beloved-bucky ) Danny Gibson ( @catohphm ) Henry of Alderly ( @gaygryffindorgal ) (all surrogate uncles)

Jocelyn was probably the closest to her sister Aster, who was only four years older. Both of them shared a love for the arts and Quidditch, despite being from different houses, they were still supportive on the other and certainly gave her sister a run for her money, showing off her talent to learn fast and make it look fashionable and chic, inhereted from her mother.

Younger sister: Morwenna Beatrix Somerset

Despite being four years younger, they got along well and related in being the eldests' shadow and wanting to make something for themselves, not to mention living their prime days in a different age of most of their siblings

Gia had several surrogate uncles, but the one she was closest to was her godfather, Danny Gibson. He adored her, and to the family made sense that he was the godfather of her last child, Gia, the surprise and miraculous baby. His gentleness, caring and nurturing nature and the fact he treated Gia like his own child definitely won her over, and she adored her godfather and uncle. He was like a second father to her and knew she could always count on him. Many people joked that she did look like Danny’s daughter, and they’d often laugh about it. They both agreed that if another life she was to have another family, she’d love to be Uncle Danny’s daughter.

Aunt(s): Nadia Erbland ( @gcldensnitch) , Niamh Kelly ( @unfortunate-arrow), Almira Iverach ( @cursebreakerfarrier ) Gwen Archeron ( @thatravenpuffwitch )

Aunt Gwen always teased that she loved surprises, and that she was more than happy to be Gia’s godmother. She was kind, loving and adored Gia like her own child, growing really close and being another motherly figure, admiring her free spirit and sense of freedom, thing she took to her own heart.

Friends: tbd

Significant Other: Enzo Yaxley

Enzo and Gia was mostly unexpected. He was from the S28, she was the daughter of a half-blood lady, and though her father was from the S28 as well, the Yaxleys had a dislike of anything with a single droplet of muggle blood.But it seems love cared little about that, and both of them ended up together, marrying in the chapel of Winbourne, and eventually had six children: Lysandra, Celia, Corban, Victoria, Nadia and Brooklynne Yaxley.

However, their only son resented Gia and idiolized Voldemort and soon joined his ranks, estranging himself from his family. Gia disowned him and made her only unmarried daughter Victoria her heir instead so none of the pure-blooded freaks of her other daughters’ husbands would dare touch her inheritance and dowry from her mother which had been earned by defending Winbourne from being taken by an enemy all those years ago.

Gia ended up dying in 1980 of heart malfunctions and Enzo and his son had a big fight in which he forbid his only child, his daughter Eloise ( @kathrynalicemc ) from seeing them and he never acknowledged him as his son. Enzo followed a year later of broken heart.

PERSONALITY

Three Qualities: Kind, hardworking, strong-willed

Three faults: Entitled, proud, hot-tempered

Guilty pleasure: Extremely hot showers

Writing hand: Left

Zodiac sign/other personality trait: Virgo

FAVOURITES

Colour: Blue, golden, white, red and green pastel

Composer/singer: Ludovico Eunadi

Food: Mac and cheese

Family member: Her aunt Siobhan ( @kc-and-co )

Location in the world: Cairo, Egypt

Holiday: Summer

Hobbies: Reading, baking, learning new languages, paint, sew and ride stallions

MISC

As many of her siblings, she is a polyglot: she speaks French, German, Polish, Danish, Greek, Latin, Portuguese, Spanish, Gallic and some Balkan languages

She also knows ballet and many court dances, though by the time she was of age to partake in court activities, it had been interrupted by the Great Depression and the Second World War.

She met the Prince of Wales once, but thought him rather pathetic

She was one of the most beautiful of Primrose’s daughters and many wanted her hand, but she and her father refused all of them

After the war, she enrolled in Cambridge where she got a degree on Medicine and served as a nurse in many Muggle hospitals and occasionally on St. Mungo’s, most specially as a translator

She translated many books to English that had been banned centuries before and also was considered a hero for the victims of the Holocaust

She read Mein Kampf and pamphlets of Mussolini’s policy to understand better the enemy

The Prime Minister Winston Churchill wanted Gia for the SOE, but she had to reject because she was pregnant and her face was now known thorought occupied Europe

After the war, she accompanied her husband to find his lost sister and cousins of the war and even funded some rebuildings of Warsaw of her own pocket, which led to her brother sending fundings himself

She put protective spells over Winbourne and her house of London during the successive bombings of Hitler

She met the Queen Mum, Elizabeth Bowes Lyon, and both women instantly clicked

She had a thorough collections of diaries where she wrote all about her childhood, Hogwarts years and her war experience, and her daughter Deyanira published them, which made the memoir quite famous in the history of the wizarding world, and which led Gia’s granddaughter, Lou Yaxley ( @kathrynalicemc ) to reconnect with her cousin Camille, great-granddaughter of Gia’s brother Vincent

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rennisaturate · 2 years

Photo

i watched a change in you / it’s like you never had wings

full name: melanie regina lucietta miles preferred/nicknames: record ( mel or melanie in her human verse is fine too ) birthdate: august 12th age: 60+ ( human verse: 26 ) height: 5'3" gender: cis woman pronouns: she/her sexuality: bisexual education: some collage ( her BA in her human verse ) nationality: american residence: seattle WA, USA ( human verse: houston TX ) occupation: whatever her coven mother says ( human verse: professional cheerleader ) sun sign: leo tags: opens / canon / traits / music taste / aesthetic / turn ons / wanted opposites

a fleshed out and more detailed bio will be here sometime, but in the meantime here’s the rundown:

tw for assault

record is a vampire based on the lore of cassandra clare’s mortal instruments series. record’s real name is melanie, but she hasn’t been called that since she was turned when she was 19 years old. this nickname was given to her by her coven because she was found holding two vinyls ( the jacksons’ Destiny and nina simone’s Little Girl Blue ) when she was attacked. in her human verse people still call her melanie, or mel for short if they know her well.

she, nor her coven, know who the vampire is who attacked her. she’s figured by now they had to have been a fairly new vampire by the way they attacked her ( nearly ripping her throat out ) but the one who buried her and fed her when she rose again is named enivwenaye, her current coven leader. record’s relationship with her is dependent at times, and very distant at others. she appreciates her and her coven sisters ( tucker, zinnia and sariyah ) for the times they’ve given her shelter and support, but a large part of her wishes they’d just let her die from the bite, and feels they never quite understand her. she doesn’t hate them or eniwenaye for finding her, for wanting to take care of her and make sure she didn’t suffer, but she doesn’t much care for any of the life she has either.

she hates downworlder and vampire politics. she is indifferent to shadowhunters as well. record has lived in many places within her five plus decades of life, but she is very fond of seattle, and her original hometown is Houston Texas. she remembers her mother and her sister, but she has not dared to speak to them again. she felt it was best they thought her dead.

in her main verse, she works four nights a week at a bar her coven runs for vampires in downtown seattle, doing whatever it is enivwenaye needs of her. she’s not about games, she’ll cuss you out no hesitation if you piss her off, and will go toe to toe with just about anyone, and death is honestly nothing she fears in the process. this life is hardly enjoyable in her eyes.

in her human verse, melanie went to university at texas a&m as a dance major and is a professional cheerleader for the cowboys. she’s a bit more of a girly girl in her human verse, but she does actually enjoy sports. her dad got her into motor sports when she was little and she has a suzuki of her own and races for fun from time to time.

#(( story || record ))#[ please don't like / reblog !! ]

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apricusdays · 2 years

Text

Generational Shift

The massive golden mech let its heavy cape billow from its own movements as its pilot stomped it through Solis Heights. “These mountains once held the Imperial Palace. These blasted rebels tore it down years ago... I will simply have to build one out of the rubble.” Dunstan Baskerville levelled the mech’s arm at a block and launched a volley of missiles. He watched the ants below scream and pray to Creation. “The survivors who pledge loyalty to the Empire will be spared! The rest I will burn alive as an example!”

Sprays of bullets plinked off the missiles before an energy net nabbed them. A second mech with a white and pink pattern rushed forward and yanked them into the air. They detonated high above them, sending shards and cinders flying.

“Sixty years of planning. Sixty years of prolonging your life, grandfather, and still you cannot do anything but the most brutal of violence to impose yourself.” The communications went directly to the other massive machine. The crowd below was still running and shouting as they should. This was a dangerous situation and hopefully they knew better than to get in the way.

“You’re... one of the grandchildren. Cassandra, the one who married that banker.” The mech stopped for a moment. “I’m disappointed. Part of me hoped in vain my legacy would live on in a grand new dynasty but instead you throw your lot in with rebels and peasants! I read the files Cain gave me. You are nothing but the shadow of a monster to this city. Why stand for the people who hate you?”

“They hate me because of you! I’ve spent my whole life hated and threatened, told that I deserve to be miserable and destitute, that I didn’t deserve to have been found and picked back up, and my family needed to be destroyed! All of this for the sin of bearing your name! Not the family that prospered for centuries, nothing of its history or brighter figures- ONLY YOUR CRIMES! I refuse! I am going to live! THRIVE! I never thought I’d have this chance to reclaim my birthright from you. The Baskervilles will not be remembered solely as a footnote under your heel. It’s time to send you back to hell.”

“Reclaim your glory, defeat the ghosts of your bloodline, save this city... Ha! You won’t be able to do any of them, let alone all three! You think using a machine that hasn’t seen use in six decades with no training to shout at me means you’re a hero that will make my legacy vanish in a puff of smoke!? I will hang your corpse from our new palace!”

“Hear me people of the Apricus Province! You may have fooled my own flesh and blood into standing before you- now watch them fall!” The large golden mech stormed forward and tackled the other into a building.

“He’s causing damage on purpose... He wants this fight to be as destructive as possible... He really is the monster the stories say.” Cassandra realized it as soon as the destruction of the large building was followed by more screams and fire.

#apricusdays #Dunstan Baskerville #Cassandra Cheshire #story scene #Arc 1 Finale #Location: Solis Heights

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myrcella · 3 years

Text

“I will hunt you, and I will break you!”

-—

This outburst far exceeded the vanity table incident a few days prior. Castle Dimitrescu seemed to respond to its mistress’ unbridled anger in tandem, croaking and cooling, and a flash of lightning broke through the window as if on cue—as if Alcina was equally as entwined with the village.

Your body jolted, but you were steeled by one of your daughters’ hands on your shoulder: Bela looked at you with unseen empathy. If it were any other moment, the gesture would have been a funny and fond one to reflect on—who was the elder and younger here?—but now there was pity in her eyes, and you were grateful.

“She will calm.”

“We have seen her worse...”

“But an ugly man thing never managed to touch us before.”

Daniela was the last to chip in, and her tone was clipped. She was skittish, the girl who played so often with fire and cackled when she burned. She was uncharacteristically afraid, now. It made you terrified.

Rose instinctively felt the panic in the air too. Four little limbs beat hard in yours, squirming and wriggling in a silken blanket, and an exhausted red face looked around, crying. Despite your wife’s reprimands to the man-thing who had been flung down several floors, the child was indeed in the castle, but very much claimed.

“Oh, Rosie...”

Your chest thundered but you ignored it for the baby, who needed your heart more than you did. You coddled her to your chest, pressed your nose into her downy hair that smelled milksweet. She was still human, so fragile and malleable. It wouldn’t be much longer...

“Mama is here. Don’t you worry... Don’t cry... You have all you need here, I promise... You’re better here...”

(Sometimes you did wonder if you said such things to yourself to soothe your guilt.)

Every minute was a small century, before the door to the room slowly opened. The familiar imposing figure of Alcina ducked below the doorway to sluggishly enter, and when she straightened, her eyes were glazed and jaw set firmly. She had not calmed completely, not yet, but you knew she needed you.

“Alcina...” It was barely even a whisper. Your voice was caught in your stomach.

“Mother, that awful creature! Just awful!”

“He shot me! In the chest! Right here! It hurt!”

“Even the flies didn’t want his stench!”

“And you had said he was tasty before!”

“No, definitely stale!”

Cassandra had crooned and glided over, shadowed by Daniela. Bela distanced herself as the air cleared, consigning herself to the darkness as she usually did. The girls were old enough to reconcile themselves, though. They could fight, they thrilled themselves in violence.

“Daughters.” Alcina was clearly struggling to level her tone. Her eyes were still fading away from the golden that they turned when she was annoyed... or excited. “I am glad you girls are safe. The man-thing is... displaced for the time being. However, I expect he will be back as a thorn in our side ere long, and I expect he will be harsher.”

Her gaze snapped from the girls to you, who would ordinarily wait in excitement.

“Go, you three. Keep hunting him. I want him broken. Never mind what I have been instructed.”

Bela, Cassandra and Daniela almost immediately fluttered away to whatever recesses they occupied when ordered. Then it was just you and your wife—the Countess who had to take a breath before gliding merely an inch away from you.

You were daunted. You stepped back at first and pressed Rose harder against your chest. You hadn’t meant to—you’d panicked and you were still anxious—but the hurt was clear in Alcina’s eyes.

“Do not fear me,” she said. She was agitated. Her voice was stressed. “Please.”

She had perhaps only said ‘please’ once or twice in all the decades. So your fear relented, and you melted back into your rightful place—against her large body.

“Draga mea, concubină mea,” Alcina breathed with raw adoration, having to kneel to meet even a fraction of your height. One of her hands dwarfed your head, easily. She placed both to your cheeks, cupping your face, pressing her forehead to yours with closed eyes. You copied her, the surprising warmth of her skin like a safety blanket when she touched you. And when she had a moment of reprieve, finally, she kissed your lips chastely.

“He didn’t hurt me...” you answered the unsaid question. He hadn’t, but he had grabbed the babe from your arms and unsuccessfully tried to wrestle her away, thus Rose’s distress. “He wants her. I can’t give her up, Alcina. S-she...”

“No.” Alcina’s word was firm. “You shan’t give her up. I promised you a child, you and I, and this is her. She was never his. I made it so for you.”

She looked down hurriedly at Rose, whose chubby face was stained with tear tracks. Her tiny hand was rubbing at her eye but she had seemingly soothed a great deal, her head tilted towards you.

“See, she seeks your comfort. She has forgotten... him.” Alcina hissed even the mere implication of the man through her teeth. “I will never submit.”

For a few beats, you regarded her. She had been your lover through so many eras, but she still reduced you to the young peasant girl you had once been, dying in the dirt, before she lifted you up and saved you with the gift. She had lived so much longer than you, seen and devoured so many, and yet she chose you as her equal in perpetuity.

“Hold me. Hold us.”

Alcina needed no further instruction. Her long arms wrapped very easily around you in your entirety, encasing Rose too in the embrace. It grew an uncomfortable position quickly, so she guided you to move to her lap when she sat in one of her favoured armchairs of this room. There, you were once again small and naive and her protege, looking to her for guidance.

You had known for some time there was something far more frightful beneath Alcina’s surface, something untouchable and something you were once unsure you would see. But the situation with the man-thing was spiralling out of control, and whatever secret was in Alcina’s skin was broiling steadily.

Still, when you met her gaze, you felt her love. Her kind loved deeper than what you had been born as. They loved for so long, so fiercely and primally loyal—bound physically as well as emotionally to each other. Since she had marked you the bond between you both had never faltered. It was in your very blood, and you were in hers.

“I won’t let him continue,” Alcina said, quietly. More to herself, you assumed. You kissed the corner of her mouth and she looked at you with gratitude. Then, hungrily, she took your chin between her fingers and opened your mouth up to hers, kissing you more resolutely. “Sângele din sângele meu.”

“In vecii vecilor,” you said, dutifully.

Rose quieted between you and her eyes had drooped closed. Whatever beast raged inside Alcina had retreated for the time being.

Another one, however, still stalked the bowels of your home.

#lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x female reader #re8 #re8 spoilers #resident evil village

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