#How To Get Taller Easy Wonderful Tricks

[d0wnb4df0rf1cm3n]

don't give up on me.

Regulus Black x F!Reader

Summary: You're sick. Regulus knows that. But how can he convince you that you're worth saving?

Word Count: 6.5K

Warnings: IN DEPTH DISCUSSIONS OF EDS, WEIGHT LOSS, THROWING UP, FAINTING, HOSPITAL WING VISITS, ANY AND ALL ED-RELATED WARNINGS

AN: If this kind of content is triggering for you, PLEASE KEEP SCROLLING!!! nothing is more important to me than y'all keeping yourselves healthy - both mentally and physically! If this shit helps you then, here ya go :) (P.S. the summary is really bad sorry!!)

You ran back to the dorms, promising Pandora that you'd be back before breakfast. Lie.

Every day was pretty much the same: you weighed yourself on the muggle scale that you'd snuck into your bags behind your dad's back, and then based on that number, you'd eat. Or you wouldn't. It was easy to miss mealtimes - you'd make the excuse of needing to finish some homework or having forgotten something in the dorms. If you went to the hall during mealtimes, you'd put a little food on your plate and push it around to make it seem like you'd eaten loads when you hadn't touched anything at all.

If the number on the scale weren't acceptable to some extreme standard you'd set yourself to, then you'd spiral - only small amounts of food, you'd go on a run before dinner (strategically showing up late enough that there wouldn't be much left), calling yourself the worst names in the mirror.

It was a routine that you hated - you wanted to kick it, but you couldn't. It was a safety net. You needed control, and this was the only way to have it. It was your drug and you were dependent on it.

It had started as a need to look better, more like your sister. She was taller, skinnier, better at everything she did. You wanted that. So you started skipping meals, spending more time doing workouts - you'd bought one of those muggle aerobics DVDs, and you'd follow it almost every day. You lost a few kilograms in the first few weeks of summer, and the pride of achieving your goal outweighed the hunger pains and headaches. Your weight became an obsession to you and you weighed yourself after every meal and in the morning and night, and your diet to become healthier quickly became a desire to be smaller.

It didn't help that you remained invisible to everyone except your few Hogwarts friends. They owled you frequently, begging you to come up to London so you could spend time together, but you lived too far away for that to be possible. Your dad was busy all the time - it wasn't easy for him after the divorce - and your sister was busy with all her friends. They didn't like you very much, finding you odd as you went to school so far away. They left you alone for the most part - you only saw them when your sister agreed to drive you somewhere.

Not eating became natural after a while: the hunger pains stopped being painful, the headaches disappeared, and the desire to eat had all but disappeared. No one really noticed - you were pretty good at hiding your tricks - but your quickly shrinking body was noticeable. Your dad brought it up once, worried about how your clothes looked so big on your body: he offered to drive you to the doctors, wondering if being a wizard meant that you were more prone to getting sick. You shook your head, telling him that you were fine, but you made a mental reminder to buy much baggier clothes to hide the weight loss.

After that, you quickly went from loving your new body to despising it. You hid every inch of your skin even in the height of summer - hiding under baggy clothes, blankets, and behind pillows. You shoved your mirror to the back of your wardrobe.

By the time you went back to Hogwarts in September, your robes were far too big for you. You'd altered them sneakily: you kept the robes you had but they rested on your body better.

You'd avoided hugs from your friends, lying about an injured arm, but you'd happily reunited with them on the Hogwarts express. They all commented on how they were loving your new look - you smiled sadly at the reason. You remember getting off the train onto the platform - Regulus had helped you down from the train, gripping your hand tightly as you stepped off. As your friends dragged you away, you'd looked back at him. He'd looked almost concerned.

You came back to the Great Hall halfway through breakfast. You sat down with your friend, adjusting your collar where it was rubbing against your neck. You felt uncomfortable, almost like there was an emptiness in the back of your mind.

Pandora caught your eyes mouthing, are you ok? You nodded in response. You grabbed a glass of water and some fruit. Your throat was so dry and every single movement made you nauseous. It's fine, you told yourself, you can run it off before Charms. You're fine.

You were lying to yourself. You weren't okay, you had a problem and you knew it. But you couldn't pluck up the courage to go to Madam Pomfrey and get help. This was comfortable. You never wanted to go back to the way it was before - constantly hating your body for the way it looked in clothing, jealous of what others looked like. You'd take a few bad days like this over that.

You yawned. You were exhausted but your sleep wasn't restful or comfortable. Some parts of your body would always be sore when you woke up.

You felt someone move to sit next to you, and before you could turn to see who it was, they grabbed the apple out of your hand. You turned to protest, before seeing Regulus' pointed look and the knife in his hand. He began to cut up small slices and feed them to you, not giving you time to protest until the apple was finished and entirely consumed.

"Get a room lovebirds, someone from down the table called, but Regulus was quick to shoot them the finger. You smiled at that and Regulus let out a breath at the sight of it.

"It's nice to see you smile, canari. You don't seem to do it as much anymore," He said lowly, making sure his voice was only for you.

You pat his shoulder to reassure him, trying to hide your panicked mind behind gentle touches. He smiled at you before standing up to leave. He offered you a hand, which you gratefully took, and you both headed towards Defense Against the Dark Arts - your first lesson of the day.

That night, you had been planning on skipping dinner. You had convinced Pandora and Barty that you had an essay for Professor McGonagall that you hadn't even started, and they had believed you. They left you in the common room, promising to bring back one of your favourites - a Pumpkin Pasty. All was well.

You slipped out of your dorm room and down the stairs to the front door, heading out for a quick run.

"Where do you think you're going?" A voice cut through the cool air. You shut your eyes. Busted.

Regulus walked up to you, raising his eyebrows and waiting for an answer. "Tell me, Reggie, does growing up rich make you so entitled or are you just naturally a pompous ass?"

He laughed, throwing his head back, and grabbing your hand, "I'm going to let it go because you haven't eaten anything and you're probably hangry." He dragged you down to the Great Hall, even as you dragged your feet.

He pulled you in and sat you down by his side, piling your plate high with all the foods he knew were your favourite. If your anxiety wasn't spiraling, you would be touched that Regulus knew exactly what you liked and what you didn't.

People were sat all around the table, making small talk and eating. You took deep breaths as nonchalantly as you could, cutting up the food Regulus had piled on your plate. You didn’t want to draw any attention to yourself. Normally it wouldn’t be a problem - you’d have a few days of no one noticing you skipping meals, then you could comfortably eat dinner with no worries. You could prepare for that. But, after breakfast this morning was sprung on you, you didn’t think you should be eating this soon. I mean you had only just run off the apple you had for breakfast. How were you going to keep your weight down if you were gorging yourself on the most unhealthy food every minute of every day.

You tried to join in with the conversation every so often, pushing things around on your plate as you did so. You thought you were hiding it well, but you caught Regulus glancing at you in concern, every time you finished speaking.

Catching onto this habit, you worriedly stood up, grabbing your things and getting ready to go.

“Leaving again so early?” Barty asked, grabbing your wrist. He looked at the wrist almost concerned but you tugged your hand away. You looked around the table before your eyes landed on Regulus, concern filling his face.

You swallowed nervously, “Yeah, I'm going to head up to bed. Goodnight,” You stepped over the bench and left through one of the back doors. Regulus watched you leave. Something didn’t sit right with him.

As soon as you rounded the corner, you picked up the pace almost breaking into a jog. You made it down the stairs to the Slytherin common room, heart pounding in your chest and nearly threw yourself up the stairs to your dorm. You closed the door and locked yourself in the bathroom. You were usually methodical about this process, you had a system. But you were desperate at this point. You tied your hair up messily and filled up a hidden water bottle at the sink before chugging it and turning to the toilet. 

Back in the Great Hall, Regulus decided that he was going to go check on you. He excused himself and bid everyone a good night - just like you had - before heading in the direction of the Slytherin dorm. 

You were bent over the toilet, retching. You hated this so much. It didn’t feel good - it almost hurt - but you felt so relieved doing it. You couldn’t explain it. It was somehow the one thing that helped you feel better.

Regulus quickly made his way up the stairs to face your dorm. The stairs were enchanted to stop the boys from climbing up them, but Regulus was able to jump and skip a few steps to make it to the top. Nothing was going to stop him from getting to you. Not now.

Regulus knocked on your dorm door, to which he was met with silence. You couldn’t hear him. Not liking the feeling in his gut, he slowly pushed the door open. To his surprise, you weren’t there.

From the bathroom, he heard the faint sound of someone retching. Regulus furrowed his brows. You hadn't seemed sick this morning. Why didn’t you say something? You were going to go on a walk, for Merlin's sake! Closing the door behind him, he walked over to the bathroom door, pressing his ear to the door. That was definitely you retching. He knocked. You froze.

“Canari? Are you okay in there?” He asked, leaning against the door.

Shit. 

You scrambled to get up, quickly flushing the toilet and washing your hands.

"Canari?"

You splashed your face with water before replying, “I’m fine, Reg.” You cursed yourself for the wavering in your voice.

You turned to the mirror - you were a mess, your tear-streaked face red and splotchy. You washed your face, trying to get rid of as much inflammation as you could. 

You took a deep breath and leaned against the sink. How could you have been so stupid? How were you going to talk yourself out of this?

“Can you open the door, please?” Regulus said. He was half intending to break the door down, but he wouldn't violate you like that.

You sighed and opened the door with your head down. You tried to walk past Regulus, but he gently pulled you towards him, your head resting just over his heart. His finger tilted your face upwards, his eyes widening at your red eyes and face. 

“Why didn’t you tell anyone you were sick?” he asked.

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” You tried to pry yourself away from him, but he wasn't letting you go so easily.

“You’re not fine if you’re throwing up. What's really going on?”

“It’s nothing. I had a stomach bug over the summer. Sometimes it acts up a little. It's fine. I'm fine.” you affirmed. Your solidness was almost more to convince yourself than him.

One look at Regulus told you he was not convinced. He pulled you back into his chest. "You sure that's all it is? You'll tell me if it gets worse?"

"Yeah, Reg, I'll tell you if it gets worse. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before."

"It's okay, Canari. As long as you are okay, it's okay."

You managed to avoid any more confrontations until Christmas. You decided to stay at school over the Christmas holidays, like you usually did, which meant no friends to worry about your ever-growing problem.

You woke up to a dry throat and a pounding headache. The usual. You coaxed your body into slumping out of bed and you brushed your teeth. God, you looked a mess. The dark circles under your eyes were prominent and your face was pale and gaunt. You almost looked like a skeleton.

The sun was pretty high in the sky - it was probably almost afternoon. Shit. How could you have slept half the day away? It's fine you'll just have to stay up later tonight to finish all your essays. You walked out into the dorm to be greeted with 4 other empty beds - everyone else had gone home for the holidays. You figured it was probably safer to stay at school than to go home looking so terrible.

Begrudgingly, you pulled on a pair of jeans and a Slytherin sweater you were almost sure wasn't yours, and slipped down to the common room. You'd left an essay for Professor Binns in front of the fireplace - you had rushed to the bathroom after Barty had practically force-fed you a few. You'd blamed it on the fact you got a dog food-flavoured one (you didn't - it was chocolate brownie, which was almost worse), but the side-long glance Regulus had given you made you retreat into your dorm room for the rest of the night.

Still, you needed to finish that essay and you headed down the steps, pausing halfway down to calm your racing heart. The common room was cold and empty - it usually was in the winter, given that most Slytherin students went home for the break. You shivered violently - the cold that nestled into your bones in early October had refused to leave. Now, without at least a jumper or two under your robes, you were constantly shivering.

You glanced at all the tables - there was no parchment or quills. There was no one still here that would want to steal your essay or your quills, so you were surprised to see all your stuff gone and the common room completely clean. You searched everywhere in case the house elves had moved it while cleaning, but you couldn't find it anywhere.

Tears started brimming in your eyes knowing that those were the only quills you had and there wasn't much chance that you could afford to buy a whole set of new ones and finish your essay before Christmas day.

"Good morning, Canari." You whirled around to see Regulus standing behind you, his obsidian-black suit perfectly ironed and immaculately clean. His hair was perfectly coiffed - as it usually was - and his face clean of the stubble you knew that he was able to grow. Not a hair out of place. Never a hair out of place. Why couldn't you be more like Regulus - perfect without trying. Skinny and pretty and fun to be around. Not always worrying about if you were trying too hard.

A lone tear slipped out of your eye and down your face. Regulus was there in an instant, his hands grasping your face, thumbs wiping away any tears.

"What's wrong, Canari? Why are you crying?" Regulus said, pulling you into his chest. You felt him stiffen against you, his fingers running over your protruding spine. But you nestled into his warmth, the chill in your bones just barely sated by his heat.

You looked up into his eyes, sniffling, "Someone took all my stuff."

"What?"

"I forgot my stuff down here last night - my essay for Binns and all my quills were on the table, but now they're gone," your breathing picked up as you began to panic, "And I can't afford to buy a whole new pack of quills, which means that I won't be able to finish any of my other essays and Professor McGona-"

"Canari. I have your stuff." Regulus interrupted, his arms running up and down your back, "It's okay. I took it to my dorm before I went to bed. Here." Regulus led you to the staircase leading up to his dorm and made you wait as he dashed upstairs and got your things. He handed them to you in a neat pile before leading you back to your dorm with his hand on your lower back. "Put your stuff away and then come down with me. Let's eat breakfast together."

Alarm bells started ringing in your head. Eat? Now? With so much to do? How could you waste your time? But you couldn't make Regulus more suspicious of your behaviour.

You head down to the Great Hall with him, pulling at your sleeves as he placed all manner of pies and treats on your plate. You felt nauseated by the smell alone.

It didn't skip your notice how Regulus looked at you as if you were going to break at any second. Hell, he probably thought you already had.

You turned the corner off the path to head into the Forbidden Forest. If any of the Professors found you out here they'd give you a detention. That coincidentally would mean that you missed dinner. Two birds, one stone.

You set off on your run, keeping to the border of the forbidden forest, but deep enough in that no one would be able to see you without looking. You kept a steady pace - you were used to this routine. If you overate, you'd run until you felt exhausted and then you'd slip back into the dorm and skip dinner.

Except the snow was never normally this heavy and with every breath you exhaled a puff of smoke left your lungs. The inhales were almost painful, the cold air rough on your fragile lungs. You could hear your heart pounding in your head and your ears were starting to ring but you ploughed on.

What a mistake that was. You feel your foot slipping before you can even grab onto something. The next thing you know everything was black.

Regulus was worried. He'd paid close attention to your ever-deteriorating health, and he was worried, to say the least. After you'd run from lunch with him and Barty, he'd followed you back to the dorm. You hadn't even noticed him trailing you as you almost ran back to the common room. You'd slammed your dorm door shut and hadn't left for hours. You'd finally left when you thought no one was in the common room, dressed in some sweatpants and a jumper that was far too thin for this ghastly weather. He'd grabbed his own coat and a spare jacket for you, before following you through the hallways. He'd contemplated calling your name once, but clearly, there was something going on. And Regulus wanted to know what.

You'd slipped out of one of the doors to the courtyard and set off on a light jog down toward Hagrid's hut. That's odd, Regulus thought, you didn't have detention. Of course, it didn't pass his mind that you may just be running. After all, who would willingly go on a run in the middle of December in Scotland. Still, he watched as you ran down the steps that led to the now frost-covered pumpkin patches. Maybe you needed to collect something from him, he thought. Yes, that's probably it. Far more likely than Miss 'golden-girl' having a detention. Professor Kettleburn probably needed something and sent you to go get it.

His confusion only multiplied when you bypassed Hagrid's hut and disappeared into the thicket of the Forbidden Forest. Regulus picked up his pace, making sure that he wasn't caught as he followed your footsteps. He tried to keep up but you were always a faster runner than him, always making it to class on time even if you were both running late. He quickly lost you, having to resort to tracking your footsteps through the deep snow. He was ever more confused as to why you were out here - if anyone caught you here, you'd have a month's worth of evening detentions. Not the best way to start the year.

When he finally caught up to you, his heart dropped to his feet. You were lying face down in the snow, clothing soaked through. He knelt beside you, his hands running over your face as he softly called your name. Your skin was cold to the touch, causing Regulus to panic. He quickly bundled you up in the spare coat he brought with him. He removed the scarf from around his neck and wrapped it around yours, before tucking your hands into the pocket of the jacket.

He hoisted you up in his arms, wrapping his arms securely under your body. He slowly started walking back to the castle, being careful to avoid anyone seeing him leave the Forbidden Forest - the last thing he needed was the both of you getting in more trouble. He carried you through the hallways to the hospital wing, rapping his knuckles sharply against the window while you remained unconscious in his arms.

Madam Pomfrey was quick to open the door and, at the sight of your unconscious body, ushered you both inside, helping Regulus to lay you on one of the free beds. She laid a thick blanket over you and dug out a heating potion to dispel the chill from your bones. Regulus just sat by your side and held your hand. It was ice-cold as usual, but somehow Regulus never wanted to let go.

"...Mr. Black?" Madam Pomfrey asked, but Regulus had missed the question while he was staring at you. He looked up at her questioningly, silently asking her to repeat the question, "I said, will you get some dry clothes for her? I trust that you have something you can give her."

Regulus nodded dumbly, leaving the hospital wing before breaking into a run. He ran upstairs and pulled a sweater and some sweatpants for you. They would be big on you but hopefully, they would keep you from getting too cold. His heart was pounding as he returned to the hospital wing.

He diligently gave the jumper and sweatpants to Madam Pomfrey, before turning around so she could change your clothes modestly. It was nothing he hadn't seen before, he wanted to tell Madam Pomfrey, but somehow he was sure that she wouldn't appreciate that sentiment.

Once she was done and you were nestled under two layers of blankets and in clean clothes, Madam Pomfrey turned back to Regulus.

"Mr. Black, I'm going to have to collect a report from this accident from you, if you would so oblige."

"Uhh, of course, yeah. Um, well," Regulus prided himself on being a good liar, but under so much pressure, not so much. "We found a - uh - salamander on the fifth floor by the library when we were studying there earlier. She said she'd go tell Hagrid so she headed down to his hut. I wanted to find her to finish my essay before dinner so I headed down to see Hagrid, but then I found her lying in the snow."

Madam Pomfrey nodded, "Did Hagrid find out about the Salamander?"

Regulus nodded, "Yeah, one of the third years told him. I heard them talking about it while I was looking for her." It wasn't a total lie. Two third years had found a Salamander by the fifth-floor boys' toilets. They'd told Hagrid, and Regulus had overheard them talking about it.

Madam Pomfrey nodded, sealing away the report and filing it away. Regulus stood up to go back to the common room when Madam Pomfrey stopped him.

"She's incredibly thin, Mr. Black. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?" Regulus shook his head, "It's worrying how underweight she is. You haven't noticed anything? Anything out of the ordinary?"

Regulus shook his head again before turning around to leave the hospital wing. He knew something was wrong. He just didn't know what.

When you opened your eyes, the first thing you could feel was heat. You were warm. After months of being on the edge of freezing all the time, it was nice.

The second thing you noticed was the smell of cologne. A familiar cologne. Regulus' cologne. It was an expensive one - the Black family was rich and they weren't scared to show it off.

You opened your eyes slowly, grateful for the darkness. You looked towards the window to see that it was nighttime. You furrowed your brow in confusion. You could have sworn that it was just past lunch. You pushed yourself up further only to realise that you were in the hospital wing.

Before you could push yourself up even further, a voice interrupted you, "And just where do you think you're going, young lady?" Madam Pomfrey walked up to you with a glass of pumpkin juice in hand and two tablets. "You're dehydrated. And possibly have a concussion. You should be glad Mr. Black found you when he did."

Regulus found me? How the hell did he know where I was?

You took the pills from her hand and swallowed them down quickly. You savoured the taste of the Pumpkin Juice - it had been so long since you'd had the calorie-filled drink.

You turned to the door just in time to see Regulus walk in. It was as if he had exhaled for the first time seeing you awake. His shoulders dropped, his chest relaxed and all the tension in his face melted away.

He sat by your side gently, letting you finish the juice. Madam Pomfrey spoke up again, "Now, young lady, do you want to explain that nasty little fainting spell?" She said, her eyebrows raised as she scrutinised you.

"Uhh, well - I was - uh - walking down to Hagrid's hut, and - uh - my ears started ringing, and I think I fell." You said, your voice hoarse from disuse.

"And it has nothing to do with the fact that you are underweight?" Madam Pomfrey pressed.

"I've just been nauseous the last few days." You lied quickly, slightly recoiling under her heavy words, "I think it's stress but it might be a bug. I remember Pandora complaining about her stomach the night before she went home."

Madam Pomfrey seemed convinced. Regulus less so. As soon as Madam Pomfrey left, he turned to you.

"You lied." You shifted nervously under his intense gaze.

"I didn't. I have been nauseous all week."

"If you were nauseous, why were you on a run?"

"I thought the fresh air might help."

"Fresh air in the Forbidden Forest? Bullshit." Your heart dropped. He'd followed you there.

"Why did you follow me?"

"Why were you there alone? If I hadn't followed you and you'd fainted, you would have been dead by the time anyone found you."

"Oh, so I guess that means I should thank you now, should I? Oh, thank His Lordship, Mr. Black for saving my life, even thOUGH NO ONE ASKED HIM TOO!" You exclaimed, seething. You threw his hands off you and tried to push him away but he refused to budge.

"Stop being difficult," Regulus said, pulling the blankets back over your frail body.

"OH I'M BEING DIFF-"

"JUST TELL ME THE TRUTH!" He interrupted, his blue eyes blazing with fury. You could just about pick out the lingering concern that was embedded in his gaze. You saw red.

"GET OUT! GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! LEAVE ME ALONE!" You pushed Regulus away with every ounce of strength in your body. He fell off the chair, crashing to the ground in an undignified heap.

You watched, in horror at what you'd done, as he walked over to the door. He cast you a longing glance as he left, almost as if he was begging you, pleading you to let him in, to not shut him out. To let him help you.

You sighed. You weren't sure if you could be helped.

On Christmas Eve, Madam Pomfrey let you go back to your own bed, with the promise that you'd visit her every day so she could check up on you. Regulus hadn't visited since you told him to leave, and a small part of you was glad that he hadn't. The rest of you had missed him dearly.

You felt him walk up to you as you lounged on one of the sofas in front of the fire.

"Room for one more?" He asked hesitantly, standing in front of you. You shuffled to the edge of the sofa to give him room to sit down.

"So how are you?" He said, hands toying with his wand as he tried to avoid staring at you.

"We don't have to do this, Reg. Can we just let it go?" You sighed, hoping that you didn't have to get into this conversation right now.

"Yes, we do. Tell me, Canari, are you feeling better?"

"I'm fine, Reg." You both sat in awkward silence, not exactly knowing how to approach this conversation. "I'm gonna - uh - go. Now. Uh - bye."

You stood up, trying to escape into your dorm room, but Regulus beat you to it - blocking you with his body. It wasn't fair that he was almost a whole head taller than you.

"No, what's going on? Are you sick?" Regulus insisted, hands coming up to brush your arms. You shuddered at the gentle touch, but he still didn't pull away.

“Reg-”

“Canari.” he insisted. "Don't lie to me."

You took a deep breath. "I'm sick," you whispered quietly, but loud enough for Regulus to hear it.

He shifted on his feet, “What do you mean?”

You looked at him, noting the tears building up on his lash line. Regulus never cried. More than once, Barty had joked that the 'snowman didn't have a heart'. You shook your head, "It won’t make sense."

"Then help me understand."

You took a few breaths, trying to get your thoughts in order. Regulus led you back to the couch, his large warm hands covering your cold frail ones. You tried to get your thoughts in order, tried to figure out where to start. Well, it's probably best to start at the beginning. “I don’t know what happened. I was just supposed to lose a little weight. I started eating less, doing some muggle workouts. And it worked. But now - now, now I just can't stop." you finished.

Regulus' face contorted to one of concern. You avoided his gaze, your eyes filled with tears at finally revealing your secret. Regulus pulled you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you into his chest. You nestled into them, your head of his heart as sobs started to wrack your body. Regulus held you tightly, whispering that it would be okay. He breathed deeply and steadily, hoping you would fall into rhythm with him. 

Eventually, your heaving breaths slowed, and you began to calm down. After a few moments of silence, Bucky asked “How long has this been going on?”

"Since the summer break. But I think the problem's been going on a lot longer than that." You whispered into his chest, defeated.

Regulus took a deep breath, his mind relaying all the suspicious behaviour he'd picked up on over the past term. "Why didn’t you say anything?"

You shrugged weakly, "It wasn’t your problem."

You jostled in his lap as he turned you to face him. "Canari. Your problems are my problems. How many times do I have to tell you that I'm here? Because I want to be here. For you. I want to help, Canari. Please." You avoided his gaze because you knew what you'd find. Genuine concern. Something you weren't sure if you deserved. "You always help me or anyone else whenever we need it. Remember when Pandora had those nightmares for months and every night you'd hold her hand until she fell asleep? Or when Barty told us that he was afraid of the dark so you gave him an enchanted tea candle that would never go out? Hmm? If we were going through this, wouldn’t you want to help us?"

"Of course, I would," you said firmly, tears building up in your eyes again. You rubbed the way with the corner of your sleeve, but Regulus caught your hand.

"So why can’t you let me help you the same way?" he asked, his eyes shining with sincerity.

You shook your head lightly, "It’s not that simple, Reg."

"Why?"

"Because.”

"Because what?"

"It's just not the same," you said a little louder, pushing yourself off his lap. You had to put a distance between him and yourself, or you knew that you would break. You turned around heading in any direction that was not here, not in front of the only man capable of reducing you to tears.

"I don't get it. What’s the difference between me and you? Why can’t you-"

“Because I don’t HATE you!” you exclaimed, turning around to face him again. The pain in your eyes was evident as you tried to shrink further into yourself. Regulus was up in an instant, cradling your head in his hands as if you were a porcelain doll. You took a shuddering breath, "It’s not the same thing because I don’t hate you. I want to help you all, because you are good people, and I like you."

Tears streamed down your face as the confession spilled from your lips. You told him about everything, the loneliness, the self-loathing, the punishments, everything. Regulus stood there as you sobbed in his arms and confessed to him, taking every beating and tucking it away in the corner of his frozen heart that was reserved for you.

When you had finally settled, Regulus looked at you sadly. His gaze was heavy as if he was trying to see if there were any other secrets you were hiding. "Is that really how you feel about yourself?" he asked, saddened even more when you began nodding. "What did you do that was so wrong?"

You didn’t know. The loneliness that had plagued your childhood had melted into the insecurity that you didn't belong anywhere, and you never would. So slowly, you accepted that you never would. Your voice was weak when you spoke up again, "I'm sick, Reg. I know that. But I don't think this kind of sick can be healed by one of Madam Pomfrey's potions. People catch colds or break bones - those can be fixed. And once it's fixed, it won’t bother them again. But this," you gestured your body repeatedly, "this I don’t know if I fix. I don’t know how, I don’t know where to start. It’s me against me. It's a losing game. I’m not the kind of sick that gets better, Reg," you shrugged slightly and shook your head.

Regulus wrapped his arms around you tighter, "There's always a cure."

"Not for me."

"No. You're not giving up. YOU CAN'T FUCKING GIVE UP WHEN YOU HAVEN'T EVEN TRIED TO GET BETTER!" Regulus wasn't one to lose composure ever. In fact, Regulus wasn't one to show much emotion at all, but here he was, crying and yelling over you. Trying to convince you to get better. He tucked his chest into you, whispering, "Please. Please, you can't- you can't leave me here. Not alone, please, Canari."

You rested your face on his head, your cheek pressed against his beautiful curly hair. You stayed like that, you pulled into his lap, his head cocooned into your chest, your head laying on the top of his head. Both of you expended every last tear in your body before he spoke up again.

“Can I try to help?"

"Hmm?"

"I mean you want to get better? Right?" Regulus removed himself from your chest and looked into your eyes. His hands traveled to rest on your face. You nodded. "You can always talk to me about anything," You avoided his gaze, "you know that right?"

At the uncertain look on your face, Regulus stiffened. You quickly spoke up, "It’s not that I don’t trust you. I do, but-" You paused thinking how best to word this.

"Yes?"

"It’s just that I don’t want to disappoint you," you said, your voice trailing off as you spoke. "I don’t want to fuck up and end up hurting you because I couldn’t be better. I don’t want you to worry every bloody day. You don't deserve that." you took a deep breath and looked away again. "I don’t want you to leave because I couldn’t be strong for you."

"Is that really what you think I would do?" Regulus asked, his tone growing angrier. You cowered under his anger, and Regulus noticed. He tried to level his breathing as he continued, "I would never be disappointed with you, because you're trying your best. You said it: you're sick. And sometimes it takes time to heal. And you're healing for you, so that you can have a happy life. A long life." He paused, considering whether to add this next part, "No matter whether that life has me in it."

You leaned into him again, his arms wrapping you into a tight hug. Your life would always have Regulus in it, no matter how long, short, sick, or healthy it would end up being. Regulus made you promise to go back to Madam Pomfrey in the morning to tell her the whole truth.

"Promise you will be there the whole time?" you asked softly, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, and exhaustion washed over you.

His arms tightened around you, "I promise. As long as you promise not to give up. Even when it gets hard."

You smiled your first proper smile in what felt like an age.

"I promise."

fin.

#regulus black smut #regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus black x reader smut #regulus black fic #regulus black fanfiction #regulus smut #harry potter #hp #tw ed but not sheeran #regulus x y/n #harry potter x reader #regulus x reader #fi's baby blurbs #regulus black x fem!reader #regulus black x girlfriend!reader #marauders #marauders era #no y/n

[kimmi-iii]

Hey klee!! I just finished RE4R but somehow I can't stop thinking about RE2 Leon!!! Help!! Got any ideas for some fluff (or smut hehe) surrounding college-boyfriend!Leon?? It might be a little niche but it's consuming and rotting my brain I can'ttt I have a couple thoughts but I'm wondering if you have any headcanons or drabbles on how he'd ask you(or reader) out, would you get to see him between classes (maybe he's in the academy, or maybe he's in college w/ you), hmmm maybe what it'd be like if you were sharing a place... idk something wholesome!! (or maybe a lil spicy but I don't really have any ideas about that besides Leon being a switch/sub)

Omg I'm so into Leon being a switch leaning towards sub :3

Here are my takes/headcanons about Leon Kennedy being your silly college bf!!

Afab!reader

SFW:

-We're most likely talking about RE2R Leon so I could totally see him doing something super cheesy like bringing you roses, face masks, and hugs from behind

-He's 5'8" aka 172cm so he's a pretty tall guy. So hes just 10x taller than you but is such a softie.

-This man can cook!!! Not much to really work with in a college dorm (I'd say so at least but I'm not a chef) but Leon would definitely have a few cooking tricks up his sleeves that are simple and easy to do

-The typa guy to stay up with you to cuddle and watch movies. Depending on the day he might not even pay attention ;)

-Might be a slight self insert, but if you're in a performance arts major/in the school's plays, Leon is definitely there to support you and would go to every show you're in.

-he gives off "beauty and brains" kinda guy. He definitely played some sort of sport in high school. Probably baseball or lacrosse. And he definitely has mostly As and Bs. This man is just so damn good in school--and he looks good? Dream come true

NSFW:

-Since he's in college, he's younger. And since he's younger Leon, he's definitely a sub-leaning switch.

-He's most likely not a virgin but he practically has no experience. So you could definitely pretend he is one

-Just imagine him whimpering and whining on the bed in your dorm room. His poor pink tip leaking precum while he waits for you to stop teasing him.

-"F-fuck--please please please! I-I need-i need you so so bad..." He says as you're kissing all over his body except the thing that needed the most attention

-and when you actually do touch it? Oh the pretty boy is so relieved. You're giving the head of his cock kitten licks as you jerk off the rest.

-but when you start giving the sloppiest blowjob or begin riding him? He's on cloud nine. His cock twitching from the warmth wetness if your mouth--or he's whining and gripping onto your hips and thighs from your tight, wet pussy as you ride him.

-This man probably has the best cum shots. After you climax, you pull off of him and immediately begin to jerk him off. That alone has him gripping at the bed sheets and bucking his hips into your hand as cum spills all over his torso.

-Since he's inexperienced, you either fall asleep next to each other after, or you help clean him up for aftercare

-did I mention he makes the more prettiest noises and cutest faces when you dom him? His little mouth hangs open, his face is flushed and hair sticks onto his forehead

(I would do some for when he's top but I'm in a femdom mood)

#klee iii #klee iii answers #leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon x reader #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy fanfic #leon re2 #re2 leon #re smut #resident evil 2 #resident evil leon #resident evil smut #resident evil fluff #college au my beloved

[dandylovesturtles]

Raph and Leo trick or treat

Uhhhh this one is breaking the rules but I had an idea and no one asked for Leo and Raph trick, so here we go.

CW: death (of OCs, no major characters), violence (not particularly graphic)

———

Just seconds ago they were watching a movie together. Leo got up, said he wanted more tea. Raph offered to get it for him, because Leo still needed crutches, still had nasty cracks in his shell, but Leo shook his head and said he wanted to move around.

Now, there are six people in their home, and Raph has idea how they got here.

Humans, all of them. Adults, big guys, some of them even taller than Raph. They’re wearing military fatigues and vests and helmets, and they’re armed to the teeth. EPF is emblazoned on their lapels.

They’ve positioned themselves to block Leo and Raph off from each other. Three gun barrels trained on each of them. Raph wonders how they got past Donnie’s security system.

Calling for help is no use. Mikey and Splinter have gone to the Hidden City for supplies, and Donnie’s looting a junkyard. Maybe this is why they’re attacking now. It’s just the two of them, and Leo is in no state to fight.

Raph feels frozen, unsure what to do. He doesn’t have his weapons - if he summons them, will they shoot him? Shoot Leo? He doesn’t know if bullets would pierce their shells. He doesn’t want to find out.

“Heyyyy guys,” says Leo, his voice light despite the situation. “Are you from the IRS? Sorry, we’ll get right on those taxes.”

“Quiet,” barks one of the men.

“Oh yeah, right to remain silent.” Leo chuckles in a strained way. “Never been good at that one.”

“You will come with us,” the same man says. “We are authorized to use force if you do not cooperate.”

“Sorry, my dad says not to go with strangers.”

Raph can’t see it, but he hears it: the slam of something his little brother’s face; Leo grunting in pain; the clatter of his crutches as he stumbles and falls.

Something inside Raph wakes up and roars.

They are outnumbered. They are unarmed. They are just kids, facing down adults with guns and armor and forceful expressions.

And Raph will fight tooth and nail, to his last breath, to protect his family.

His ninpo crackles as it engulfs his fists. He hears one of the men shout in surprise. There’s a gunshot, then another.

Raph barely registers it. His only thought is to protect Leo. He knows nothing else.

It’s a few minutes later when the static clears. “Raph!” Leo is calling, and he sounds panicked, and it shakes Raph back to awareness.

There’s blood everywhere. The air stinks with it. And there are bodies. Six of them, mangled and bent and impossibly small on the ground.

The red of his ninpo falls away and Raph stares in uncomprehending shock.

They’re dead.

He killed them.

It had been easy.

“Raph,” Leo says again, something begging in his tone. “Raph, come on, snap out of it. We can’t stay here.”

“I killed them,” he says.

“It was self-defense,” Leo answers immediately. “They broke into our house. They had guns.”

“It was easy,” he says, and feels sick.

“They attacked us,” Leo argues. He’s shaking and so is Raph. “You were protecting me.”

Raph stares at his hands. He feels like they should have blood on them, but they don’t. His ninpo shielded him from the spray.

“Raph,” says Leo, voice somehow measured despite everything. “Donnie’s alone.”

It’s this that finally shakes him out of it. His other little brother is alone. What if they’re after him, too?

He looks at Leo. There’s a trickle of blood coming from his nose where he got hit. He’ll have a shiner for sure. But he’s unhurt otherwise. His eyes are big and worried but they aren’t afraid.

“We have to get out of here,” Leo reiterates. “We can get the tank. Get Donnie and Dad and Mikey and figure out what to do.”

Raph nods. Right. They can’t just stand around. They can’t stay here with the-

He takes a deep breath. “I’ll carry you, you try to get Donnie on the comms.”

Relief floods Leo’s face, and he nods. “Great plan, big guy.”

Raph lifts Leo in his arms, grabbing his crutch and tucking it under his shoulder before he’s moving. Away from the stench of blood and death.

Leo calls Donnie on the comm, and he answers right away. He already knows, and Raph listens as the twins work out a meeting point. Leo doesn’t tell Donnie what happened. Just says they’re okay.

It will do for now.

#dandy trick or treat #cw death #cw violence #cw guns #rise raph #rise leo #oops

[c6h5cooh]

red salvias | vampire x knight!reader

(yandere?vampire x gn!knight!reader)

red salvia: A vibrant red flower, member of the mint family which symbolizes deep love, sacrifice and transformation. forever mine.

✎ summary: you finally manage to pass through all the different spell barriers and seals placed on the ruins of a castle and find yourself with quite a peculiar prisoner.

✎ tw: pet names, apart from that it’s pretty sfw.

_(:3 」∠)_

With one last swipe of your Saint sword, the talisman placed centuries ago on the wooden door in front of you, was cut cleanly in half.

A sigh escaped your lips, the blade sliding into it’s sheathe, and your gloved hands grabbed ahold of the rusted doorknob.

You weren’t here because you wanted, no, far from it, yet they had assigned you to a rescue mission. A useless one from the looks of it, because the person trapped there had been imprisoned for more than two hundred years. So the least you could do there is pick up some belongings and check the area.

Getting rid of the spells weren’t much work either, seeing how they were basically withering to dust, an easy task.

However, a fully living, breathing human being isn’t what you expected to see when you opened the door.

How strange.

Maybe he had entered the room beforehand? No, that couldn’t possibly be it, there were seals preventing such a thing.

He stood in the middle of a circular room. Instead of walls, it had shelves full of books of every kind, a window being the only source of illumination, apart from the many wax candles littering the floors.

Crimson eyes finally noticed your body of armor and even lit up at the sight of you, dropping the book he was reading on the floor.

“You finally came, I’ve been waiting for you.” Black locks of hair swayed behind him as he walked to you, scanning your figure with curiosity.

“..?” You were confused; why?

“Oh, my apologies, I’ve just been here for so long. You see, I was trapped here forcibly, even though I’ve never hurt a soul…” The vampire slyly dawned upon you, looking at you with the most innocent eyes.

Won’t you believe him?

“How much of a fool do you think I am? You’re a vampire.” You scrunched up your nose, and your hand reached for your sword. Rescue mission? What a disgusting lie you were tricked into believing.

His hand did not let you get out your weapon, instead forcing it to stay still in his grasp. He felt much stronger than you, even though you were taller than him.

“Well, my features do scream out ‘bloodsucker’, so I suppose you are right. But I haven’t introduced myself, how do you know if I’m really dangerous, dear? I haven’t done anything to you yet.” His smile revealed pearly sharp fangs, there was no denying he wasn’t human.

“You can call me Amias, darling~”

“Remove your hand from my arm-” Amias interrupted your order, instead giving you one of his own.

“Sit down.” His face looks cold for a split second before he smiles cheerfully once again. But for some reason, your body did obey what he said, and you were pushed into a leather chair. “Good, very good! How your body reacted means it’s already working.”

You frowned, “what are you doing?”

“Hasn’t anyone told you never to look into a vampire’s eyes? One must wonder why~” Amias chuckled, forcing you by the chin to stare into the swirling pool of crimson red in his eyes. It finally dawned why he could command you so easily.

Before trying to stand up, he had already push you down and sat on your lap.

“I won’t hurt you, pet, I just need to gain back my strength. I give you my eternal gratitude for rescuing me, I really don’t know how much more I’d last if you hadn’t come.” His nails touched the skin on your cheeks, caressing it almost with care.

You could feel yourself losing control of your thoughts the more you slipped into his grasp.

“That’s right… let your new master guide you, my beautiful knight.”

He sank his fangs into your neck, fingers interlacing with your hair, and fed off of you. Once finished, he wiped the blood off the corners of his tinted lips.

“Forever mine~”

~ a/n: so…. part two? only if you want to. I hope you enjoyed it! I feel like it’s a bit rusty because I’ve not written in so long. It also feels far too short for my liking (rather I was rushing because I was working while writing this), but we’ve finally got it out. until then, dears.

#yandere x reader #yandere x gn reader #x gender neutral reader #yandere #gn reader #x reader #☆ben writes #vampire #vampire x reader #vampire x human

[pen-observing]

i’ve moved into a new place and my new neighbour seemed scary at first but i found out he likes cats, drives a motorbike and loves doing crossword puzzles more than anything else? 

pairing: capitano x gn! reader warnings: very fluffy, modern au! that was born from me daydreaming about domestic bliss with this man, written before we know anything about him word count: 2.1k

In your mind, making new friends seemed next to impossible for a while. Realistically speaking. Nobody ever claimed that a stranger would have an easy time after moving into a new town. Adjustment periods were necessary for everyone, why should you be any different?

And you really were able to cope with that fact. Things are easier once you imagine them over and over again in your head - once you rationalise and overthink them to the point that they become so familiar they feel like second nature.

'I would move into the new town. I will probably somehow lose one of my boxes in the process (I wonder which one it will be?) and I will definitely not have friends for a while. And that's okay.'

So, the last thing you expected while jiggling the keys of your new apartment attached to a cheap soda keychain was that you would have to halt.  

What is the point of these keys if you cannot get to your door? In front of your door was an orange cat happily eating from a red bowl. Thats slightly strange but it doesn't prevent you from seeing your new place in person, finally. What does, however, is a man kneeling down behind the cat and softly rubbing its back.  

Even when your eyes are casted down to look at him - he looks imposing still. Dressed in all black, with a wide frame and a black helmet secured under his arm. His hair is long and flowing down his shoulders but you catch sight of something silver glistening around his neck. It feels like you've looked at him for too long so you shake your head and decide to approach him.

Despite this being a pleasant scene - it still gets in the way of your door and you've been thinking about this moment for so long that impatience continues to rise.

'Could you please excuse me?'

The man stands up and your judgement was completely right. He is imposing! Just now do you see how much taller he is than you! You got this place for cheap yes but this wasn't a dangerous neighbourhood! He shouldn't be anyone too dangerous.  

When he does turn around, he does so by tucking in the helmet closer to him and eyeing you up and down. For a moment he doesn't speak. It seems like he is taking you in - but you can't find it in yourself to mind when you are doing the exact same thing. He does look like someone rough around the edges and someone that has lived a life harsher than yours but that doesn't stop him from being attractive.  

Instead of breaking the eye contact, you simply jiggle the keys in your hand and they seem to make a harsh sound when they collide with the dollar soda keychain.  

That seems like enough to do the trick because his shoulders relax and the realisation settles in. Perhaps he was just as suspicious as you?  

‘Oh, you must be the new neighbour the tenant mentioned would come.’  

His voice is deep and clear. He doesn’t sound as rough as you foolishly imagined. He doesn’t apologize but his calm voice coupled up with the three steps he takes to move away from your door are enough.  

‘Thank you.’ you offer him a small smile but his own face remains blank. All he offers you is a small nod before he turns away to leave.  

‘HEYY! DON’T FORGET THIS BOX!’ - the truck driver yells two floors below and you are startled but glad that this means you probably won’t have any lost boxes after all.  

You look down over to see that the truck driver as well as his son are both holding onto one box. Maybe it was a mistake packing up so many books in one place.  

‘We need to rush to our next appointment so, please, come and get it yourself.’  

You jam the keys into your lock and roll your eyes as you unlock them. With how quick they were to get away you guess that they had no appointments to rush off to – they just wanted to avoid carrying the box up the stairs.  

As your hand touches the fence to go down you hear the man speak.  

‘That box looks rather heavy. If you’d like to, I could carry it up for you.’  

And since you definitely know that it really was a mistake to put all of those novels in one place – you offer him a sheepish smile as an excuse.  

‘I would really appreciate it. My packing skills leave much to be desired.’  

He doesn’t say anything after that, he hands you his helmet and goes down the stairs. The cat finished its meal and finds the situation intriguing enough to rub up against your leg. The man doesn’t even struggle to lift up the box and carry it. You open the door for him to enter and only then do you realize that you weren’t even the one who took the first steps inside!  

He simply puts the box down on the floor on the right side next to the door.  

‘I really appreciate it. Thank you for your help.’   ‘Capitano.’ he says as he takes his helmet from your hands. ‘It was no problem at all.’  

And true to the image your mind cultivated based on a few minutes of interaction – he leaves in complete silence.  

But, surprisingly, this is how you made a friend.  

Now, yes, it didn’t happen overnight. Capitano was not a man who got close to others. He seemed to fit the image of a rather modest and quiet life. Even if he had to pass your apartment to get to his, you rarely heard his footsteps.  

In the mornings where you were trying to relax by sitting in a nearby park, you would see him jogging. In the evenings as you got ready for bed you would hear the sound of a motor bike’s engine, and instinctively you knew that was him.  

Despite the fact that it seemed the two of you would walk around each other – there was a surprising number of in betweens.   Like, greeting one another when you were off to work.   There was also the orange cat that didn’t even have a name but would somehow, always, conveniently continue to roam from his door to yours so that everyone else thought it belonged to the two of you. Or ending up at the same cash register of the convenience store that was close to your building. The two of you would usually walk back together, him refusing to let you carry more than two bags while you tried to strike up a conversation to get to know him better. He didn’t exactly tell you much about his life but it was a joy to listen to listen to him regardless.  

‘So, what do you like to do?’   You were really trying to find out about his hobbies or his work but he only gave you a straightforward answer. ‘I like to do crosswords.’  

As much as that made you giggle, Capitano was someone you could ask to water your plants when you went away for a few days. He was someone you could compete with in wordle and not get mad even if he ended up winning. Every. Single. Time.  

After three months you realized that his silence was just what came to him naturally. It didn’t mean dismissal or refusal to get to know you better. It seemed like he was genuinely interested in what you were talking about any time your paths would cross.  

And since he was delightful to be around, you would invite him over for dinner or some tea. And he rarely declined.  

Like this, your friendship progressed.

Even if he still refused to let you get on his motorbike, he was someone you could simply just trust in smaller ways.

And these smaller ways were your undoing. Because they seem so small and insignificant until one day you realize that the two of you established a routine. Grocery runs, specific times the cat was to be fed because it started getting fat by tricking you both with pleading eyes. Sitting next to him on your couch and sipping a drink while he solves a new crossword puzzle – all of these things became a routine.  

And one day they just caught up to you. One day when he was 20 minutes late, you didn’t have words to explain how bad it felt. How empty the room looked with two pieces of cake on the table and only one person sitting at their place. It was such a quiet realization that you almost mistook it for something else.  

Somewhere along the very fragile line – you had fallen in love with the man who would carry your bags and make fun of you for not getting a driver's licence so that you could ride his motorbike. Yes, without noticing it – you became someone Capitano was able to share a smile and a laugh with.  

And since it was so sudden, and you felt like you were toying around with scratching a surface – you had to react before it was too deep.  

But confessing your feelings and standing in front of him while doing so just felt like too much. And, in your fear, you decided to do something silly.  

You would make him a special crossword puzzle! You knew his favourite sites for them anyway. A lot of them were linked to daily newspapers. All you had to really, was make up your own and photoshop a logo on the page! To make it seem more believable!  

So, you set out to do a perfect job. And you had to admit that daily crossword makers were simply something to be feared. After pain striking effort that took you 4 hours, you finally were able to make something satisfying.  

Unidentified, Louvre, tempo, vivacious, elephant, yacht, orchard, doughnut.  

These were the key words you chose to make the phrase. After that all you had to do was add a few more all around that weren’t connected to the phrase itself.  

The nervousness and excitement as you handed Capitano that paper was enough to make your fingertips tingle.  

You would just play it cool. Yes. Sipping on your drink while watching something on the TV. He would obviously be sitting next to you but you swore to yourself that you wouldn’t look at his progress! That would defeat the whole purpose.  

He only thanked you before he picked up his blue pen.   Was it just you or was his hand moving faster than usual? No, no, it must have been only your imagination. You were nervous about this after all!

After only two sips of your drink, Capitano put down the paper on the table. That is when you decided to look at it but before you could see if he finished it, his lips were on your forehead. He was pressing a soft kiss to your forehead! His right hand found yours around the cup (and thank God for that because you would have dropped the cup) from the surprise; meanwhile his left was wrapping around your shoulder.  

All you could comprehend was his voice, softer than ever before, whispering: ‘I love you too. But next time, make the crossword a bit more challenging.’  

Then, he moved away to look at your surprised face and somehow your cup was in his hands now. He nonchalantly took a sip while you grabbed the paper off the table.

‘What the hell!? You only filled in the first four words!’   ‘Next time add actual page numbers to your cross words. Besides, this specific newspaper never gives full phrases – they only make extremely long words the solution. And, I don’t even see the newspapers anywhere.’  

You huffed and balled up the paper to throw it at him.  

‘All my work for nothing! For nothing! It took me 4 hours! Couldn’t you have pretended tha—wait..does this mean I can finally ride your bike?!’ ‘Not a chance. But, you can hold onto me while I ride it from now on.’

And, it is like this that somehow everything changed while staying the same. He still carried your groceries but he did so for your shared apartment. Now, his keys had an uncharacteristically pastel soda keychain attached to them and the orange cat lived with the two of you – but it stilled remained without a name.  

You’re just glad the two of you were able to name the emotions so clear that almost would have escaped because they felt so natural.  

a/n: do we hate it? do we like it? what do we think? i personally am going through a slump and i just wanted to write something for him...yeah,,,PLEASE CARRY MY GROCERIES SIR!! 

#genshin impact #genshin capitano #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #capitano x reader #modern au #genshin harbingers #harbinger x reader #not om #not twst

[purpureumwrites]

Azriel x Witch!Reader | Electric Blue Ch. 2

Pairing: Azriel x Reader Chapters: Chapter 1 , Chapter 3, Chapter 4 Word count: 1.9k Warnings: None Summary: Reader is half-breed witch, insecure but powerful, who just can’t resist Azriel. And she can't seem to stop ruining her chances with him. A/N: If SJM made everyone in the Inner Circle overpowered, then so is the reader right? I hope you like this :D Thanks everyone for reading

Your eyes darted everywhere. The obscene figures in the walls, the spiteful looks from the fae that you crossed… Hewn City was just as described. Not even the others were spared from the looks of disapproval. Not even Rhysand, their High Lord. He had explained to you the situation beforehand, but you had doubts, assumed he might be exaggerating. You had none now.

He and Feyre had also warned you about the roles they all played when they visited the Court of Nightmares and instructed you to follow three simple rules: not show emotion, not speak unless they ordered me to and to treat them extrictly as High Lord and High Lady. Easy, you thought. Keep silent and invisible. And the people there clearly hated them so much that you barely drew any attention.

When the group reached the throne room, you positioned yourself with the rest, a few steps behind Cassian and Azriel. You didn’t get to see the whole performance, as they were both way taller than you, but you were glad. You had no interest in whatever this was and wasn’t paying attention. Someone approached the throne, would try to get something from Rhysand, he would play the bad, cruel lord, and some bickering would ensue. Repeat. You were soon completely distracted and mentally far away from the place. At least, until the word “human” reached your ears. When you looked ahead, you peeked a male fae pointing in your direction. Both Azriel and Cassian had tense stances now. 

“Yes, you!”, the unknown fae screamed.

By the time your brain catched up with what was going on -someone was really mad that not only their half-fae High Lord was there, but that he had brought an actual human with him into their court- Azriel had already launched himself towards him and held him by his neck with the most enraged stare you had ever seen. 

Nevertheless, you couldn’t say you were fazed by the situation. When you are born in Prythian looking completely human, you get used to the denigrating behaviour of the average fae. It was imprinted at this point. The sense of inadequacy, the feeling of not belonging, not even in your own birthplace.

“Azriel”, you called him. “It’s okey” 

“It’s not” 

“Stop-it” 

He frowned and it took a few seconds for him to throw the fae to the floor. On purpose, most probably, he threw him against the cold marble with great force, the sound of his body hitting the stone the only thing breaking the silence in the throne room.

Dangerously fast, Azriel was right in front of you, staring down at you. Furious.

“He doesn’t get to disrespect you like that”, he growled.

“Still, I can defend myself”

You saw the skepticism in his eyes and, honestly, you preferred the hate and disgust over the belittling look he gave you. He was one of the strongest illyrians and spymaster of the Night Court, he could make any fae tremble at the thought of him, no wonder he would consider pretty much anyone else weaker and helpless. But there was a reason Rhysand had vehemently insisted for you to join his court. The trinkets and the little magic tricks were fun, a distraction, but your magic was way more than that. And it rarely ever happened, but right now, you were fuming.

“I’m not Elain… or the other one, I don’t need your help”, you fumed. “I-don’t-need-saving”

You hated it. How the males in the circle behaved sometimes, all defensive and protective. Maybe you were just jealous, maybe you were just frustrated. Maybe, just maybe, you wanted some of that but at the same time wished to not be looked at as a little fragile human. The bitterness you usually hid had years, decades to brew. It might have been the first time someone defended you and the feeling was so bizarre that weren’t sure how to feel about it. So instead, you were furious.

The angry look in Azriel’s eyes suddenly changed to confusion and then, a hint of guilt.

“You’re not the only one that knows how to be scary”, you took a few steps around him, pointed with your hand to the fae now getting up from the floor.

Oh, the sweet humming of magic, of your actual magic. The one that felt the most natural to you, warming up every inch of your skin, making you feel like there was nothing to fear but yourself. The wind started to blow and the domed ceiling above darkened where clouds started gathering. You took a deep breath, enjoying the flowing of your clothes and the humid smell of the air. And then, the rain dropped.

When you heard the whispers among the fae, most of them now wet and a few skilled enough that could shield themselves from the water like the Inner Circle was, probably thanks to Rhysand’s power, you opened your eyes and stared at the fae in front of you.

“Let this be a lesson”, you declared as lightning struck his body in a sudden flash.

Rhysand smirked.

***

Mor winnowed you back to Velaris. The moment you crossed the door, you took of your shoes and let out a sigh. You went straight to the kitchen to pour yourself a warm coffee before heading to your room for the rest of the day. While you stirred it, you heard steps behind.

“Honestly, I didn’t expect you to do so well”, Rhysand smiled.

Now that you were calm and collected again, you were kind of embarrassed. You weren’t one to give a spectacle or to lose your temper like that. And the moment you walked out from the throne room and you met Azriel’s unreadable face had left you with an increasing sense of guilt.

“Neither did I”, you answered with a bitter laugh.

“And I don’t mean to intrude, but Azriel was upset. He’s grown more fond of you than you might think. I haven’t told the rest the extent of your power either, since I wasn’t that sure myself. Az had his fair share of the same treatment, he understands how you feel”

“I… will talk to him. I don’t know what got into me”, you admitted.

***

When you knocked at Azriel’s door, there was no answer. He spent a lot of time away so it was no surprise. Truth be told, you were relieved, you weren’t one for confrontations.

At midnight, you had passed out sitting on your bed with a romantic book Nesta had recommended on your lap. A knock on your door woke you up. You left the book on your bed and got up to answer. Azriel.

“Rhysand said you wanted to talk to me”, he stated, no expression on his face.

“Um… yes, do you want to come in?”, you asked stepping aside.

He took a few steps and looked around your room. It wasn’t the tidiest. There were piles of books in random places, a cauldron with some cold conconction in it since you had put out the fire before leaving and didn’t bother to empty it, trinkets and jewelry, ingredients in jars, incense burning… You didn’t plan to have this conversation here but it was better than the middle of the hallway.

You took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry”

“What for?”

You frowned.

“About what I said down there. It’s just… I’m not used to someone protecting me and I snapped. I felt small and I spent all that time trapped in that tower working on my powers so that I could defend myself and I didn’t have to feel like a useless, powerless woman any longer. So that, even if I didn’t act on it, I would know I could give hell to any fae that crossed me”, you blurted and took another big breath. “I don’t like disgusting looks aimed at me, but pity ones I like even less”

“I-”, he stopped speaking when you gestured him to wait with a hand.

“And about that comment about Elain and Gwyn, I didn’t mean it. You’re free to like whoever, however you want. And… I don’t mean to overstep, but you don’t have to earn them or be their saviour, or whatever thing that you have going on”, you took a pause. “Well, I did just overstep. I’m not used to speaking this much”

You tried to hold his stare but failed. A few seconds went by in silence.

“I didn’t defend you because I thought you couldn’t, I will not allow anyone to speak like that to a member of this family”

Family. Ouch?

“Then I’m even more sorry”, you answered covering your face with your hands.

He shook his head.

“I know how it feels to be treated like that, I couldn’t stand it”, he confided. “About the other… thing, I have nothing to say about it”

And that was it. The hint of passion that had peeked when talking about his friends had disappeared with that last sentence. He probably hadn’t appreciated it, but you really felt like it had to be said. Maybe by someone else? Too late now anyway.

“I should go”, he said already walking to the door and turning the knob.

“Right… Oh, wait!”, you started rambling around the room.

A few weeks back you had made something for him. In your imagination, the scene was supposed to be romantic but, at this point, there were close to no chances of anything like that happening. Maybe you could use it to apologize for being nosy. Even if you weren’t. Even if you just ached seeing him with other women.

He watched you walking back and forth with a confused look in his eyes.

“Here!”

You pulled the small jar from a drawer. It was filled with a light blue, thick liquid. You walked to him and held it up for him to see.

“It’s a salve. I made it for you, for your hands. You just…”, you nodded for him to take it and took his other hand. You noticed his change in demeanor. Was he… shy? Perhaps you were overstepping yet again by touching his scarred hand without permission. “…take a little bit and apply it making round motions, like this”, you gestured barely touching him. “It should hydrate your skin, make less itchy and a bit more flexible”, you put back his hand next to him as delicately as possible before taking a step back.

He stood there, stiff and unmoving, for a few seconds, before answering.

“T-thank you”

“If there’s anything else, just let me know. I’m sure I can come out with something to help”

He nodded. His eyes pensive, he took some time to turn the knob again and this time, finally opened the door.

“Good night”, he turned to say before closing it behind him.

#azriel #azriel x reader #acotar x reader #acotar #acotar azriel #electric blue

[that--fish]

《Hellfire》

Chapter 1: The Wedding

Synopsis of series: Yn gets married off to the head of the Kamisato Clan. Yn's family, Inazuma's wealthiest tycoons, were nearly on the brink of bankruptcy so they arranged a marriage with one of Inazuma's most powerful politicians to maintain their power. Would Yn be a sacrificed pawn in a bigger game or would she turn the tables?

A jug of angst and a pinch of fluff ☁️✨️

The bachelorette party wasn't as fun as I expected. But what could I have expected? Mainly relatives and my step-mother's acquaintances. Mostly everyone had passed their 50s years ago, it was as if I was visiting a retirement home. Everyone were catching up, talking about life and gossiping. But I have no life to talk about and I have no one to talk to. I'm sure father spent most of our money on this. The well decorated room, a giant chandelier hanging from the ceiling; he almost made a replica of a ballroom.

Today is the day. The day where I'm going to start my miserable life as someone's wife. Will he treat me like a servant? Will I get my freedom? It dreads me to think about it. I don't even know him, I don't even know how he looks like. Father didn't give me any pictures of him. Let's just hope he isn't too...undesirable.

My wedding dress looks stunning nonetheless. It looks like a ballgown, like of those princesses I read in fairytale books when I was younger. I know how to sew dresses, I could have just sewn one myself but father insisted not to. The dress was adorned with shiny pearl beads and flowery lace patterns. Slipping on the dress was not an easy task. The corset is tight! It's very hard to breathe in this, I'm as slim as it gets! Wait...this dress comes with heels? I thought I can wear anything I want under this. The heels are the perfect fit, but they are very high. I've never worn heels this high, I didn't have the need to. It looks like a glass slipper but with diamonds, a lot of diamonds, I wonder if these are real? One of the bridesmaids are doing my hair into a bun and another is doing my makeup. Luckily the makeup isn't as cakey as my step-mother's, given that my bridesmaids are my step-mother's friends. I suppose she has chosen a maid of honour for me, I can't tell who it is though, they all don't look too different.

The reception is starting soon. I'd better be prepared to be under the eyes of many old men. Kamisato Ayato, my soon-to-be husband. I hope the age gap isn't too big. I wonder how much money did father give to get him to marry me. We don't have much money to offer, our company is going bankrupt soon. Well, father might have played some nasty tricks, but that's not for me to know. Sigh Let's get this over with.

The reception is held in a ballroom, a fairly large one. There are murals on the walls and ceiling depicting a heaven, with angels and clouds and a clear blue sky. I requested a piece to be played when I entered, Winter. (Vivaldi Four Seasons: Winter) There is a whole orchestra playing. The piece is very dramatic, like the climax of a story. I walked down the aisle, holding father's arm. He is smiling ear to ear, I'm sure it's a fake one. I plastered a smile on my face, walking towards my fiancé.

He is more handsome than I expected. Father made a good choice for once. The person who I'm going to spend my life with, this blue-haired guy who is a head taller than me. My neck hurts from looking up. He gave me a soft grin...

Remember dear, do not trust anyone.

Mother might probably say that to me.

His lavender-blue eyes, soft features, his hair tucked back into a sleek ponytail...GIRL, GET A GRIP! He is probably way older than me. Father must have bribed him into this, just as he does for other things.

I said my vows just as how I practiced weeks ago. It went flawlessly, no stuttering.

"You may now kiss the bride"

Okay, this part - father didn't tell me about this - I didn't expect father would do me like this - I am so not ready.

He leaned in for the kiss, one hand pulled me closer by the waist, the other cupping my face. Act natural, Yn. I put my arms around his shoulders, deepening the kiss. Haha~ I wonder what father has to say about this. I pulled away. Such a coward. His face was barely pink, he doesn't seem fazed.

After cutting the cake, popping champagne and all, I am tired. How late is it now? Ah, I need to greet the in-laws. How do I do that exactly?

"Ah, Yn, we heard so much about you from your father. We knew that you would make a lovely wife for our son." I suppose that's his mother. She seems rather sincere with her words. "You should stay at our estate, to get you used to it."

"Yes, yes I agree. Your step-mother and I will miss you so dearly, Yn." His menacing grin could go unnoticed. Who knows what he's plotting behind my back.

Well, smile and nod, smile and nod.

The night is still young, Yn. Ugh, when will this end? I don't do social interactions and plus, it was father's idea to keep me cooped up in the estate. Was this how mother might have felt on her wedding day? I wonder what did she see in father?

"Yn, is anything the matter?" He asked. His voice... i-it's so...calming? His voice makes me feel like I'm melting in a warm embrace. I doubt father has ever talked to mother like this.

"Oh, n-nothing."

It was almost midnight, and it ended. Finally.

As everyone left, father ushered me to my husband's limousine, which I could have done very well by myself.

"Take good care of my precious Yn."

"I will, Mr Tanaka."

Father waved goodbye, dabbing away his tears. It's all just for show. The Kamisato estate isn't far from here. Now, father can't interfere with my life anymore.

I am my own person.

Freedom.

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin wallpaper #genshin fanfic #genshin impact wallpaper #ayato kamisato fanart #kamisato estate #genshin kamisato ayato #kamisato clan #kamisato ayato #ayato fluff #ayato headcanons #ayato imagines #ayato x you #ayato x y/n #genshin ayato #ayato fanart #ayato x reader #ayato #ayato kamisato imagines #ayato kamisato #kamisato siblings #ayato fanfic #ayato gi #ayato genshin impact #ayato angst

[ryuichirou]

Hey Ryu! \ (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)/

Hope ur having a great day/night!

I rlly enjoy the head cannons and angst ships! Tho I recently read ur past VilxRook angst post and thought I'd give it a little shot for myself but with Azul x Idia and Idia x Ortho. It took a bit of courage for me to create this scenario bc it's a bit sensitive to me (not bc it happened to me or anything I just think it's horrible and dark) but this didn't leave my mind so I wanted to share it with u.

I was wondering what if Azul made Idia a victim of human trafficking? I see Azul as a person that would do anything for money. Idia is one easy resource, especially bc of their marriage now. I imagine after they got married by signing the papers, Azul at the time was probably think of how he could milk Idia from his wealth. Not completely ofc, but to the point where he is in control of it. Idia can provide for him in many ways (business wise), but Idia can also provide for him in bed. Tho what Idia does for him is enough, he probably thought "Why not kick it up a notch?~". He sumhow tricked Idia into agreeing with it since he is a master manipulator then made a business out of Idia. Idk if Idia would have enjoyed it or not but let's say he didn't to keep the dark side of this going. Ik Ortho would have noticed the bruises and forced hickeys/bites on Idia's body at sum point. Idia would just brush it off and say it's just from the others. Ortho would have brushed it off too since he knows Idia's relationships. If only Idia didn't act so off, he would have agreed. Ortho would catch on to the situation, stalking, watching, and realizing what's going on. He would probably confront Idia Abt it and force him to respond out of concern. Idia would break down and confess to what's going on, even exposing the fact that Azul made him do it. Or Ortho would probably connect the dots in his own and figure out that this was Azul's doing. What would Ortho do then? Now that he knows all of this information. What will he do with it?

Ofc the Leech brothers have a part in this. I wonder if they would think of this as a way to have fun or they genuinely feel guilty but can't do anything bc whatever Azul says goes? (Sort of funny how taller and more athletic they r compared to Azul- They could rip Azul to shreds if they wanted to but they won't for obvious reasons.)

That's all I had in mind. Hope this is sumwhat entertaining for u to read and replay to! (⁠ㆁ⁠ω⁠ㆁ⁠)

(Also I don't mind waiting for ur reply. I just care that u enjoy my ask with ur own opinions and have fun with whatever u have in mind. No need to apologize all the time. After all, for me, it's an honor to get a reply from u! Plus, waiting for u just adds to the curiosity of what u will say! It's fun for me! (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡)

Have fun with this however u like! I'll wait for however long to hear ur fun thoughts. Have a great night/day! ♡

Anon! First of all, thank you so much for sharing your thoughts despite the topic being sensitive, and thank you for being patient with us. We really appreciate it!

And damn this was a fun read, it has pretty much everything that we enjoy: Idia is suffering in the worst and the sexiest and the most cruel way possible, Azul is being a powerful manipulative money-grubbing asshole, Ortho being a concerned protective little brother that would stalk Idia for Idia’s best interest (obviously!) and the Tweels are also there lol

Speaking of tweels, I agree that it is funny just how easy it would be for them to rip Azul to shreds if they wanted. That being said, I think their main motivation would still be their own fun – what Azul is doing is fucked up and unfair to Idia, but also quite amusing, so they’ll play along. Their lack of empathy is a fun asset to their characters, in my opinion!

I also think that Idia is pretty smart, but also quite self-sabotaging and prone to accepting horrible treatment, so even though he is smart enough to see through Azul’s manipulations, he could also easily go along with his plans. Maybe it was to make Azul happy, maybe it was to make himself more miserable (out of guilt for any reason), maybe the isolation did its thing. Or maybe it tickles a kink he didn’t know he had~ Whatever it is, he is definitely a victim of Azul’s wonderful ideas

To answer your question, god I wouldn’t want to be in Azul’s shoes when Ortho finds out what’s going on. I think this entire situation is enough for him to want to fry Azul with lasers until he is reduced to dust. Ortho would need his precious Idia actually begging him not to kill Azul for him to calm down just enough to stop and think for a moment.

But, unfortunately for Azul, this is a “I won’t kill him, but I’ll make him suffer” type of situation for Ortho, because there is no bigger sin than forcing Idia to do something that he doesn’t want to.

The question is, is Azul smart and cunning enough to manipulate Ortho into thinking (or manipulate Idia into making Ortho think) that Idia is actually quite happy with the situation and that he wants to stay with his husband? The chances are slim (Ortho has a lie detector in him for fuck’s sake lol), but not completely zero. If Azul plays his cards right, the situation could continue for quite some time…

#replies #azuide #shroudcest

[burnwater13]

Grogu wondered sometimes why Ahsoka Tano hadn’t remembered him from her time at the Jedi Temple. Sure the Temple complex was large and he was few years older than her, but still, he remembered her. Shouldn’t she also remember him? He decided to ask his dad about it.

The Mandalorian stubbornly refused to understand the problem. 

“Do you remember everyone you ever met?” Din Djarin asked him when Grogu brought the topic up at dinner one evening. 

Grogu nodded his head. He sure did. He remembered all of them. The tall, the short, the happy, the anxious, even the stubborn, bossy ones who insisted on feeding him veggies for dinner when he had made it explicitly clear that he didn’t like them. He wasn’t talking about his dad, by the way. 

Master Beq’s assistant, Jedi Knight Trip Nphall, was the one who insisted that young people needed to eat a variety of food. Grogu had pointed out that he liked a wide variety foods, including frogs, gorgs, yob-shrimp, crickets, fire eels, chicken nuggets, and sweets of all kind. No one ever had to try to trick him into eating them. Knight Nphall must have come from Mandalorian space because he was just as stubborn as Grogu’s dad and insisted that the veggies be eaten and then Grogu could have something else. 

Grogu had agree readily. He put the veggies in his mouth, swallowed them, then pulled them back out of his stomach, using the Force. Technically they had been eaten. They just hadn’t been digested and Knigh Nphall hadn’t said anything about that. Master Beq agreed that Grogu had met the technical requirement of the agreement, if not the spirit of it. Other food that wasn’t made of veggies was brought to him. That, however, did not stop Knight Nphall from trying to get him to eat his veggies. 

Grogu giggled at the memory of some of the other things Trip had tried. He’d have the veggies chopped into tiny pieces and mixed with meat and made into little balls that were cooked on skewers. Then the skewer would be dipped in a sweet honey sauce. Grogu loved them. Sort of. When Knight Nphall would go to check on the other younglings, Grogu would wave his hand over the little balls and pull all the veggie pieces out and turn them into another little ball, cover them with the leftover sauce and explain that he was full. 

That worked great until Master Beq caught him at it and suggested that Knight Nphall eat the leftover so it didn’t go to waste. The next time Grogu tricked to perform the trip he found out that two could play at that game and instead of having five or six delicious meat balls to munch up, there was just one. The pile of veggie bits took up most of the plate. That would have been very hard to deal with long term if Ian hadn’t shown up at the Jedi Temple. He liked veggies and was happy to help Grogu out. It was really how they first became friends. 

Grogu wondered why he hadn’t remembered Trip Nphall until he was talking to his dad about Ahsoka not remembering him. That didn’t seem right. He could see Trip’s dark brown hair clear as day. His pale grey eyes, that were always a little blood shot. His pale, pale skin. He was tall, but not taller than Master Beq. He wore plain robes, that always looked like they were freshly pressed, which honestly impressed Grogu, since his own coverall was always semi-rumpled. If it hadn’t been for Trip’s insistence that Grogu eat veggies, they could have been good friends.

“Maybe that’s it. Perhaps Ahsoka Tano liked to eat her veggies and sat with the other younglings who liked them as well.” Grogu’s dad suggested.

Grogu snorted at that. If you liked veggies. Really liked veggies. Wouldn’t you sit next to the youngling who didn’t like them? After all, that’s what Ian did. Figured out that Grogu was happy to share his food and became Grogu’s best friend, easy peasy.

“Well, you’ve answered your own question. Ahsoka just had another person who was her best friend and she sat with them. You were smaller then and the way you’ve described Ian, maybe she just didn’t see you when you were eating with him.”

Dank Farrik! Grogu hated it when his dad was so kind and logical. That made perfect sense. After all, Knight Nphall hadn’t even realized Grogu was in the dinning room until he literally tripped right over him. Grogu supposed that’s what he should have done to have been more memorable to Ahsoka Tano. If you trip over a person two or three dozen times you end up getting to know them and your friends start calling you ‘Trip’. 

Grogu started giggling. Would an Ahsoka ‘Trip’ Tano ever forget him? Nope. That would never be forgettable.

#calendar prompt a day #the mandalorian #grogu #din djarin

[evita-shelby]

Tie your heart to mine

Ch.10

Gif by @violaobanion

Warnings: brief mention of the holocaust (contrary to popular belief the Allied governments amd some people did know about what the Nazis were doing)

The couch at the back of the pub doesn’t compare to his old bed nor Diane’s.

He’s fought the urge to climb up the drain pipe knowing she’s left the balcony doors unlocked for him.

Does that even when she’s not there, so he can have a place to hide in.

Tom hates to admit it, but he missed her.

Missed how easy it was to just go up there, snuggle into bed with her and know nothing can touch them there.

She’s always warm, always waiting for him because she, just like him, has gotten too used it that sleeping alone feels wrong.

But she lied to him.

Everything built on a lie from the beginning, its no wonder it came to this.

“You’re still not talking to her?” Lois asks the moment he lays down in the bed that feels too small since he had his last growth spurt a year ago.

He was taller than his dad now, about three or four inches to be specific.

He took after his mum who came from tall and lanky blond people.

Lois took after dad even if she was a little one the tall side.

“She’s in Birmingham, her dad’s gonna answer the fucking telephone again.” Tom lies and hopes she doesn’t pry.

But she will, only because he does the same when she’s the one having troubles.

Lois doesn’t know what the row was about.

As far as she and his dad know, Diane’s taking care of business and he’s trying to keep his word to Mrs. Johnson who’s gotten the police asking questions after one of them caught him leaving Diane’s balcony.

The pig had the fucking nerve to call him Romeo.

Only reason he didn’t do shit about it was because its the last thing they need.

“You want to talk about it, Tom?” she asks quietly knowing he’ll say no.

They’re each other’s best friend.

No one else can come close, not his nor hers.

But he doesn’t want them worrying for him more than they already do. Tom already makes them worry about him as it is, no need to add to the burden.

His job is to be a bloody nuisance so they forget they have actual real problems going on.

“Royal Navy, 3rd class air gunner.” Tom says the words, partly to get it out of the way and have someone else know it.

“At least you’ll get out in the world.” I’m sorry she means.

Diane’s too much a pessimist to understand what looking at the bright side means for them.

They don’t have the privilege of admitting defeat and cry about.

You either sink or swim.

“She didn’t want to tell me because she didn’t think I could handle it.” He says flicking the ash off his cigarette into the ashbowl he’d brought up here with him.

It was Diane who couldn’t handle it, the one thinking the worst and already thinking he will die.

“What did you tell her?” Lois asks hoping to fix things between him and Diane because it will stop him from moping about it.

“Said, mum did always like putting me in sailor suits.” The blonde answered and not being surprised by her quiet chuckle.

The only photographs of them as kids had been them in matching sailor suits the only time they could ever afford to see the beach.

“Diane didn’t think a fucking joke was an appropriate response to that.” He adds as he takes a drag of his cigarette.

It’s nearly gone, and still won’t do the trick.

“Maybe she’s just scared for you, and her brother. You heard her, they are putting people who aren’t Aryan in camps and killing them in Germany. Might be she didn’t want to tell you, because she is the one who can’t handle it.”

Didn’t think Lois would be taking her side, if she’s sticking up for Di, next time she talks about Harry, Tom’s going to have to stick up for him to even things out.

“If you say so, Loo.” She might be right, just doesn’t excuse the lying and Diane thinking him a bloody fool.

But he’d rather talk this out with her, in person preferably.

“So you’re going to give her a call tomorrow ?” she asked knowing he’s not putting the ashtray away because he’s going to sleep.

Tom knows he’s got enough saved up for a train ticket to Birmingham, and sure he has no fucking clue where the mysterious Arrow House is nor how far is from Small Heath, but he does know where Diane keeps her shit.

“Nah, gonna surprise her. I’ll be right back.” He said carefully opening the old window.

“Where you going, Romeo?” she asked teasing him about it all. “I thought you said she wasn’t home.”

“She isn’t, can’t go to her house if I don’t know where it bloody is, can I?”

The moment he starts asking people if they know someone heading to Arrow House is when the fun starts.

Small Heath reminds him of Longsight, endless rows of brick houses, people going about there day and that.

The only difference is that for every ten men, one of them wears a flat cap.

And then there’s the Shelby Company Limited signs on cars, boats and even some places.

Tom doesn’t go to the Digbeth office, no because he’ll be there.

He goes to the pub instead.

Garrison Tavern, a Shelby Family Distillery.

Needs a drink anyways.

“So what brings you here, manc?” the barman asks looking at him with suspicion.

He was as old as his dad, had that same don’t fuck with me look all these blokes have here.

“A girl.” He answers knowing its going to get good. “Do you know where Arrow House is, heard she lived there.”

Tom keeps it vague, one wrong word and they’ll send him home in pieces.

The man shares a look with two others, peaky blinders like him who Tom knows he can’t win against.

“Many girls up there in the big house, maybe I know her.” The man keeps on going as if Tom isn’t almost shaking with excitement.

He likes stirring trouble, something his dad and Lois know and hate.

He can’t help it, every time someone wants to make him feel small and afraid his fuse burns up and he explodes on the poor fucker who gets in his way.

This time, it might save him the fare to the country house.

“You might, her name’s Diane.” Tom tries not to smile when he says it, but he can’t help it.

Tom is laughing like a madman when the men throw a burlap sack over his head and drag him out the Garrison and into the back of a truck.

He’s still running his mouth knowing they won’t touch him when the sack is taken off and he is kneeling before the Devil of Small Heath.

“You got balls, I’ll give you that.” The man said, rubbing his cigarette on his upper lip before lighting it up.

#diane shelby x tom bennett #tom bennett x ofc #tom bennett #world on fire #world on fire peaky blinders crossover #ewan mitchell #diane shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders fanfic #tommy shelby x oc #eva smith shelby

[lordgrimwing]

In Town #02

Eöl left the boarding house with little intention of taking Maryann’s advice and talking to the group of rough-looking elves who rode into town. He knew what he was doing, he had his maps and compasses and testing equipment all bagged up and ready to sling over his horse’s back in an hour. He just needed to get a few last supplies from the general store. He did not need pointers from any backwood drifters on where to prospect; they probably didn’t even know what prospecting was. 

With those thoughts, he walked across the wooden porch (because everything had a porch around here as if people could just sit around and chat whenever they wanted) and into the store, taking off his hat as he entered. It was quiet inside, which was strange given how much people around here liked to gab on and on about the most inane things. He headed straight for the dried goods, ready to be on his way.

“Watch it,” Snapped a black-haired elf when he came around an aisle and almost walked into him. In all fairness, until Eöl nearly stepped on him, he’d been crouched down to inspect something on the bottom shelf, completely hidden until the last moment. 

“Sorry,” He said without sincerity. If you put yourself in a dangerous situation, you have no right to complain. “I didn’t see you.”

They stared hard at each other for a second, waiting for the other to do something. He mentally prepared for a fight, taking stock of the other’s broad shoulders and strong arms, his work-hardened hands. Eöl knew how to handle himself in a brawl and kept a few dirty tricks up his sleeve. He’d also been in enough fights to know that muscles like that could do serious damage and he’d be most likely to walk away from this fight if he took advantage of his height or struck first. He thought about the knife hidden under his shirt and wondered what weapons the other might be hiding, too.

Heavy footsteps came up from behind him. 

“Curufin.”

Great, this guy had friends. Eöl turned to look at the new threat. 

A red-haired elf looked down at them, several full burlap bags under his arms. He was a good foot and a half taller than Eöl, though not as brawny as the first. A scar marred the side of his face, pulling his lip up and out slightly, but the irritation came through clearly as he looked back and forth between them. Eöl recognized him from the group he saw riding in earlier. 

Without another word, Curufin stepped back. He leaned down and grabbed one of the crates he was inspecting and, after shooting a glare at Eöl, walked away.

The tall elf sighed. “I'm sorry,” He said with a lisp. “We aren't looking for trouble.”

“Neither am I,” Eöl quickly assured. Then, since he was there and it was easy, he asked, “You live out on the mountain, Fëanor’s sons. Right?”

“Yes,” He answered, expression closing down and his tone turning cautious. Now he looked more like his brother.

“I'm Eöl,” He introduced himself, refraining from offering his hand to shake since the other's arms were full. “Maryann Richards at the boarding house recommended I talk to you.”

“Why?”

“I'm a prospector for the Bezwick Mineral Group. I'm evaluating the mountains around here and I understand you're more familiar with those east of here than anyone.”

The other blinked and glanced over the shelves to something or someone he couldn't see. “Don't.”

“What?”

“Don't go on our land. Stay off our mountain.”

He really shouldn't feel surprised that people around here, especially a family that sequestered themselves away would lay claim to a whole mountain. Given what he'd seen of them, these were not the kind of people he wanted to push against, not when he was one person with only a revolver to defend himself with.

“How about to the north? Mind if I look there?” He asked, keeping the derision out of his voice. 

The elf stared down at him silently. He wondered if he should walk away now before anyone decided he should be preemptively stopped from looking where they didn't want him.

“If you take the mining road and then cut north at the waterfall to cross the mountain, there's a farm a day and a half ride from here owned by Fingon.” He finally said. “He'd be happy to help you. It's safer out there, too. Go there.”

“Thanks.” Eöl wasn't sure he'd do that. He had his maps and came prepared to spend months surveying the mountains on his own, but if he went that way it couldn’t hurt just to have a look. “I'll keep that in mind.”

The tall elf turned away. “Be careful.” He muttered as he clomped away.

Eöl sneered now that no one was watching. The old woman at the boarding house must be crazier than she looked to call them ‘good folks’. He quickly collected what he needed, avoiding the other people in the store. He paid without engaging with the clerk’s small talk. 

He had things to do. He was ready to leave.

#eol sees celegorm outside helping to load the horses and goes 'yeah i could take him' #could he though? #shout out to how much i hate eol #too bad he plays a pivotal role in this au #maedhros should have decked him #alas #eol #curufin #maedhros #the silmarillion #old gods au #grimwing writes

[aajjks]

TC!dad!JK

park yeonjin, your husband’s childhood best friend is surprisingly beautiful. she’s petite, a little taller than you, and as he described, has brown hair with green-brown hazel eyes. her lips are a little plump and her skin is clear and smooth, unlike your face that’s littered with little beauty marks along the cheek, nose, and lips of your face.

had she not have said anything, you would have mistook yeonjin’s son for her brother thanks to her youth. clearly those 20+ years apart have treated her well, its treated all of you well, but she’s gorgeous. had she have been a concubine like jungkook joked about, you’re sure the beautiful woman would have been competition. even now as you stand parallel from yeonjin and hyejin, you feel as though you’re competing against her.

since yeonjin actually speaks to you with some respect, you decide to be a good hostess and instruct maids to bring glasses of water and snacks for your guests while jungkook converses with the woman who is in shock to see how much jungkook has grown.

no longer was he the shy kid who could barely utter a word to her, now he was known amongst many nations as the conqueror who impressively led his country through a war that only lasted for 9 months and came out victorious. although he’s conquered many of those who proposed to rage war, nothing was as impressive as taking down an army bigger than his own. then was rewarded with the birth of twin girls for his courage, leadership, and determination to see you again, to be there for you.

it all feels and looks sweet when you watch jungkook interact with yeonjin who came back to ‘catch up’ with him. to keep hyunjin from dying of boredom, you introduce him to your son, jinseoul who doesn’t mind showing his new friend around the palace. it isn’t until you return after introducing both of your boys that you’ve begun feeling like a third wheel as you watch the hazel-eyed woman laugh with your husband.

“i saw the royal garden. it’s beautiful”

“i did it” you butt in on purpose but yeonjin doesn’t roll her eyes, she doesn’t glare at you, she just looks at you like you did a magic trick.

“you did an amazing job. it feels as though the palace has gotten more colorful since you’ve been here” great. now you feel bad for sort of disliking his friend but you can’t help but get a bad feeling on her.

meanwhile, as jinseoul continues to show hyunjin around there’s something else that catches his eye or rather someone.

“h-hey, jinseoul?”

“yeah?”

“who is that?”

“oh, that’s my sister ae-cha”

“she’s beautiful”

“easy there, man. my dad would literally kill you if he heard you say that out loud” jinseoul says but hyunjin is too caught up to even hear what the prince said. jeon ae-cha, jeon jungkook’s first daughter out of five and absolutely divine. maybe now isn’t the right time but he will make a move on her soon…

~🫧

It’s been hours since you three have been talking together, and even though it was just mostly him and Yeonjin, Jungkook always manages to include you in the conversation as well, because he knows it must be awkward for you to be around two people who have known each other since their childhood.

He is so amazed at how well you carry yourself around other women, who know him and you’re not insecure unlike him because he’s the most insecure partner in the world, Jungkook loves you so much.

But again, you have no reason to be insecure. He’s yours and he’s always going to be yours. “Yn? Why don’t you hang out in the garden for a little while? while I go check on our boys?” he smiles, looking into your eyes and,

Yeonjin feels like you’re the most luckiest woman in the world, especially with the way he’s so in love with you. It’s so clear anyone can see it from miles away that the Great King is head over heels for you.

And he doesn’t even try to hide it or be subtle about his affection for you, she can’t help but wonder- how can someone be in love with someone after having nine children with them and after being together for so many years?

But the truth is that how could he ever get bored of a woman like you?

She feels a little out of place, and she is just constantly looking at you because you’re beautiful— you look very young for your age, you don’t look like you’ve had nine pregnancies at all, it was hard for her to believe at first you both have nine children together.

Because that is just insane, in the history of Goryeo- no emperor or king has ever had more than two children with their queen. A lot of them have fathered many many illegitimate children with their consorts, concubines and even court ladies and maids, but…

Jungkook looks at you like you’re the only woman in the world. It’s like he only sees you. “Wow…. You’re both very much in love.” She can’t help but comment when she sees his arms constantly wrapped around you.

When would obviously feel jealous of your relationship with him? it is astonishing because everyone knows his reputation as the ruthless conqueror, but if they saw what she is seeing right now? They would call him pathetic.

He pays so much attention to you, his dark eyes are always so sparkly whenever they are on you, and he’s so caring and attentive towards you.

He’s like every woman’s dream. You’re very lucky.

It doesn’t help because you’re beautiful too, you have glow on your face and your beauty marks are gorgeous, your hair looks great and your innocent eyes are definitely what must’ve caught his eyes.

Frankly, you don’t even look like you gave birth recently- TO TWINS?!

Jungkook used to talk about this one girl to her all the time and maybe she was you. You fit the description of her really well.

“Okay my love… I’ll take my leave and check on the children.” Jungkook coos, kissing your cheek as he finally, and reluctantly leaves you alone with her.

As Jungkook walks around the palace, he is still nervous because he doesn’t know why she’s here, and he has no idea about her husband, Jungkook is deeply busy with this thoughts when he spots Jinseoul and Hyunjin near the stables.

He walks towards the young men, “Hey boys!”

“what are you guys talking about?”

#ask: tc!jungkook #Oh my God jk is about to commit another murder #🫧 anon

[leatafandom]

theres like an spn crossover with Mandela catalogue and gabriel spn is actually Mandela gabriel and also it's angst

Hello, my dear!

I actually hadn’t heard of the Mandela Catalog and to be honest analog horror freaks me out. The analog horror and false gods totally are what give me the creeps the most and oh it did not disappoint. So one, thank you for giving me this wonderful new show to discover and scare myself shitless with. I love it. I only watched the first one which, yay, it was the Gabriel one. So so good and freaky just *chef’s kiss* thank you again for mentioning it. I'm kinda just gonna assume you're sending an ask about fics, but I will completely look for anything written about this because I love this idea. I honestly love this idea so much my brain came up with two musings. Thank you again for the awesome ask ❤️

In my head, Gabriel here is both SPN Gabriel and Mandela’s Gabriel. I did use some lines directly from both Overthrown and Changing Channels.

My foolishness will be my legacy, 

If there is a god… please help me

The words were etched into his grace and echoed with every call of his name, they all had fallen prey to him. So many humans were fooled so easily begging to change their decisions, their choices, and their end. All calling out for a God that had left them eons ago.

He’d be at this for years. There to draw on their fears and hopes and watch as they called for the father that had left them all. He was so close to what they wanted, what they expected. It was so simple to be something else, to hide his fallen form and be close to them. 

The two vessels weren’t any different, the game hadn’t changed. Tricking the humans that so easily believed his well-spoken lies had always been simple and illusions had become just as easy to bring to the world as it was to sow his deceit. Humans weren’t worthy after all. 

He didn’t think them differently, even as they failed to kill him and he watched them leave with wrath and contempt. He didn’t care how fun it was to play with them, how interesting they may have been. They would ruin his game. Either of his brothers coming to this plane, the plane that had been his for far too long would ruin it. Despite himself, he followed them, hunted them, and tried to deter them, but humans are foolish. He’d known for centuries of their weakness and they were no different.

“Where'd I screw up?” 

It had finally happened, his game would end and so would everything else. 

“Mostly it was the way you talked about Armageddon.”

“Meaning?” His voice was filled with irritation, eyes roving the circle that had trapped his slinking form and contained his human shape. 

“Well,” the shorter hunter smiled, shrugging his shoulders as he narrowed his eyes on him. “Call it a personal experience, but nobody gets that angry unless they're talking about their own family.”

“So which one are you? Grumpy, Sneezy, or Douchey?”

When his favorite brother’s vessel spoke again, his eyes narrowed on him. The lips he had become so used to twisted into a sneer when the parallels of his kin didn’t drop their glares. 

It had been centuries since he needed to speak the name. His presence had always been enough to drive the humans he played with to their own conclusions. Enough for him to be anyone that suited him best for his trick. 

“Gabriel, okay? They call me Gabriel.” 

He preened at the response his heavenly name brought the hunters, pleasure rising at the incredulous twist of Dean’s brow and the hitch in Sam’s voice. 

“Gabriel?” 

The pause in the taller vessel’s words brought a wider grin to Gabriel’s human features, his contained form twisting with laughter and amusement. They were still fools. 

“The archangel?”

The twisting too wide grin didn’t fade, laughter echoing in the ether. 

“Guilty.”

His game was over and he was guilty of so much more than just how he had twisted the name given to him by his absent Father. He had been the fool thinking the humans- these humans could be taught and overcome what Gabriel knew to be fate. It would come, they would come to his new home and ruin it before he was done playing with his Father's favorites. It was the part of them that wormed in his grace that wanted his brother once more, his family. It was foolish, to long for something so buried and lost amongst the echoes of time and screams. 

When he saw him, it was foolishness that brought him to Lucifer’s blade. Foolishness of humanity, of destiny, and longing. They were still so foolish, but he had spent too much time here. The vessels so much like mirrors to those he had forgotten had ripped something inside of him. Bleeding an idea within the fallen celestial, a need to be seen rising from the depths of his blackened grace. 

He had seen and been their weaknesses for far too long and listened to well to the men he had tracked. He had learned to like this world, his game, their imperfections so ready to exploit. He was foolish he thought as he looked into his brother’s matching darkness that twisted with ire at being refused once more. 

My foolishness will be my legacy, if there is a God… please help me.

The words were etched into the burnt outlines of his wings on the rotting floor and echoed throughout the ether.

I hope you enjoyed it! I also had another little musing that I thought I’d share. More of a swap-out situation that takes place between Sam getting his soul back and season 13.

They think they know him…

The hunters are so clever,

But they are fools.

“Gabriel?” 

Sam couldn’t keep the question or hesitance out of his voice. His eyes roved over the familiar vessel before him. His feet shifted, unconsciously moving closer to his brother beside him watching the grin that should have been as familiar as the short vessel before them was. 

Dean didn’t budge from his spot as his eyes narrowed on the archangel whose smug smile wove over his smile. “You lived?” His fingers clenched on his blade. 

“You doubted it?” Gabriel’s brow raised, arms crossing over his chest as he watched them. 

“For fucks sake,” Dean hissed glaring at him before turning around and walking away, waving a hand behind them and dismissing the celestial for Sam to handle. “Dude, no.” If Gabriel was back the events that seemed to mimic a trickster made sense and Dean hadn’t dragged himself out of the bunker for this. “I’m going to get something to eat.”

The taller Winchester huffed, his head snapping to Dean as his brother walked away before looking back to Gabriel who was chuckling and shifting on his feet. Questions spun in his mind as he looked over the vessel that hadn’t aged nor changed in the years since they saw him last. Sam’s fingers went to his palm, squeezing it roughly as he blinked rapidly. He swallowed when the grin nor the archangel vanished. 

“You’re here…”

Gabriel blinked at the shadow of misguided hope that lingered in the disbelieving voice. His eyes fell on the taller Winchester, his grin fading for a moment before returning with blinding strength. “‘Course, Sam. I’m much more than an archangel after all.”

Humans are so easy. 

So willing to believe,

To be deceived.

#asks and answers #thank you so much for the ask #horror #spn gabriel #the mandela catalogue #musings #angst #your interatctions feed my muse

[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Eye of the World! Chapter 14: The Stag and Lion

My reread continues! If you don't know the drill by now, let me clue you in: this is going to be chock full of spoilers for the whole damn Wheel of Time series and if you're not into those vibes you should find somewhere else to be! Not trying to be mean, just trying to help you help yourself. Those of you who do like spoilers are going to have to fend for yourselves though. I'm busy with the noobs.

Anyway, this chapter's icon is the Dragon's Fang again, reflecting the dream that Rand has this chapter courtesy of Ishamael. Pretty straightforward symbolism at this point.

Also, since it's not remotely relevant, I've decided that the Stag is the sign of some local nobility, either current or back from the pre-Andor days, and that's why it's mentioned alongside the nation's heraldic sign. Headcanons are fun!

With the winter we just had . . . well, as soon as it cleared enough for them to get down out of the mountains we were inundated—yes, that’s the word—inundated by men from the mines and smelters, all telling the most horrible tales. Wolves, and worse.

Have the Shadowspawn been spreading out beyond the Two Rivers? It might just be tall tales getting taller in the telling - that happens a lot in this story - but I wonder if maybe a few of these miners saw Trollocs coming out the wrong Waygates and trying to orient themselves. Maybe it was accident - I don't remember how well-marked the way to Manetheren was - or perhaps it was just a deliberate detour to escape Machin Shin.

“Oh, never you worry about them, Mistress Alys. They’re up to their usual tricks. Claim there’s an Aes Sedai in the town.” 

Considering how easy it is to recognize an Aes Sedai once you know the signs, it says nothing good about the Brown or Yellow Ajahs that a town like Baerlon, which isn't insignificant even if it is kinda the ass end of nowhere, could even make a plausible target for the tactic that Fitch describes.

A dozen tall, copper bathtubs sat in a circle on the tiled floor, which sloped down slightly to a drain in the center of the big stone-walled room. A thick towel, neatly folded, and a large cake of yellow soap sat on a stool behind each tub, and big black iron cauldrons of water stood heating over fires along one wall. On the opposite wall logs blazing in a deep fireplace added to the general warmth.

I have to say, based on the general wealth level of Baerlon and the lack of discomfort everyone has in disrobing in front of a total stranger, I'm a little surprised that there isn't just one large tub, like Moiraine and Lan share in the TV show. Lots of baths takes effort and resources and this is just one inn of no particular account on the edge of civilization.

“The Two Rivers,” Mat said, pronouncing each separate word distinctly. “It’s the Two Rivers. As for trouble, why—” “What do you mean, too?” Rand asked. “Is there some kind of trouble here?” Perrin, enjoying his soak, murmured, “Good! Good!” Thom raised himself back up a little, and opened his eyes.

Poor Thom, trying to relax and suddenly remembering he's the adult in a room with:

Samwise Gamgee trying to explain tubers

The main protagonist, who is always flailing into political shrewdness by dumb luck

And third guy, who has done almost nothing at this point to make Thom or even the reader think that he might be smarter than a dog with a head injury

Strange things in the mountains. I heard the other day there were Trollocs up in Saldaea.

Luckily for existence, Ara manages to out-stupid the boys by commenting that he heard rumors that the sun was going to set that evening. Mat could have told him everything about Trollocs in graphic detail and Ara wouldn't have been smart enough to repeat the story to anyone. That said, it's still for the best that Thom cuts him off.

“You just don’t tell them as well as Thom,” Rand cut him off hastily, and Perrin hopped in. “You keep adding in things, trying to make it better, and they never do.”

Oh thank goodness, Perrin can think on his feet. Guess I'll have to stop giving him shit for awhile now that Mat's officially established himself as the stupidest member of the party.

And if the Children of the Light heard Trollocs were after you, they’d be burning to get their hands on you. To them, it would be as much as naming you Darkfriend.

And this right here is what makes the Whitecloaks unquestionably the bad guys. When being pursued by the forces of darkness is proof positive that you are part of their ranks, there's nothing left but the witch hunt. It's really unfortunate, because whatever their opinions on channelers, the Whitecloaks are absolutely correct that Darkfriends have infiltrated every level of society (including their own!) and that they're a dangerous threat. They just go about the issue in the worst ways possible.

Just you put it in the front of your mind that we want no more attention than mice in a field. Concentrate on that. Moiraine wants to get you all to Tar Valon alive, and I will do it if it can be done, but if you bring any harm to her. . . .

This is exactly why Lan didn't want Egwene and probably didn't want to be dragging three boys around when they could have been focusing on one. He's worried that he and Moiraine are finally in too deep and while he welcomes that possibility for himself, he's much too attached to her (platonically) to be comfortable with the prospect of a bunch of idiot farmers bringing her down.

Naturally, Rand - the only one who hasn't been a target of his ire thus far - is the closest to being personally responsible for Moiraine's downfall out of anyone in the party.

When they left the bath chamber, Moiraine was standing at the end of the hall with a slender girl not much taller than herself. At least, Rand thought it was a girl, though her dark hair was cut short and she wore a man’s shirt and trousers. Moiraine said something, and the girl looked at the men sharply, then nodded to Moiraine and hurried away.

Can you just imagine an angry rant about how clothing isn't actually so gendered that pants would be universally masculine across 10,000 years of history so that I don't have to type it? You wanna do gender reversals, Jordan? Do a world where only women wear pants and dudes are rocking skirts. Call them kilts if you must, but come on. There's nothing intrinsically gendered about generic categories of clothing!

Also, hi Min. Lovely to see you.

He opened his mouth to apologize, but Egwene stiffened and turned her back before he could get a word out. Staring sullenly at her back, he swallowed what he had been going to say. All right, then. If she wants to be like that, there’s nothing I can do.

Bro she doesn't know an apology is coming and just doesn't want to hear your next rant.

“It isn’t what I would have laid before you a year ago, of course. Not nearly. The winter. Yes. The winter. My cellars are emptying out, and the market is all but bare. And who can blame the farm folk? Who? There’s certainly no telling when they’ll harvest another crop. No telling at all. It’s the wolves get the mutton and beef that should go on people’s tables, and. . . .”

The food crisis in Baerlon is a lot more severe than it is in the Two Rivers because of the huge population influx. Most farmers wouldn't be expecting their winter crops to be ready for harvest until the end of May (mid-Saven by the local calendar, two months off either way), if agriculture here is anything like North America and Europe. Frankly, it's a miracle that Baerlon didn't descend into a larger anarchy once summer came around.

“I suspect him no more than anyone else,” Lan replied. “But then, until we reach Tar Valon, I suspect everyone. There, I’ll suspect only half.”

Only a little overcautious, since a good third of Moiraine's sisters are evil.

“There, the news is better. No odd happenings, no strangers around who might be Myrddraal, certainly no Trollocs. And the Whitecloaks are busy trying to make trouble for Governor Adan because he won’t cooperate with them. They will not even notice us unless we advertise ourselves.”

A) Bad news, Rand will be advertising you, and

Also A) Jordan is hitting a lot of A names here in Baerlon. Moiraine and Lan go by Alys and Andra. The guard they talked to coming into town was Avin. The bath attendant was Ara. Now the governor is Adan! Eight a's in five names with a total of twenty letters.

S) Later he will pick a different letter to use fifteen million times and it will be the cause of much weeping and gnashing of teeth.

With the crowding at the inn there were only three rooms to be had, one for Moiraine and Egwene, and two to take the men. Rand found himself sharing with Lan and Thom, on the fourth floor at the back, close up under the overhanging eaves, with a single small window that overlooked the stableyard.

Considering that Lan and Thom both just dissed the boys for the trouble they'll be getting into, I'm surprised Mat and Perrin were allowed to have their own room. Maybe they were initially going to split one adult each but then Lan and Thom got in an argument about who deserved to have two boys and neither would back down from only rooming with the one least likely to give either a headache.

The stone hallway was dim and shadowy, and empty except for Rand. He could not tell where the light came from, what little there was of it; the gray walls were bare of candles or lamps, nothing at all to account for the faint glow that seemed to just be there. The air was still and dank, and somewhere in the distance water dripped with a steady, hollow plonk.

I'm going to say that this is a dreamshard and not T'A'R proper, since it is filled with implausibilities and impossibilities that don't really match how the World of Dreams renders the waking world.

One wall opened in a series of arches onto a gray stone balcony, and beyond that was a sky such as he had never seen. Striated clouds in blacks and grays, reds and oranges, streamed by as if storm winds drove them, weaving and interweaving endlessly. No one could ever have seen a sky like that; it could not exist.

Case in point. Yet... I will admit, this probably not an entirely alien sight in the Blight.

“Once more we meet face-to-face,” the man said and, just for an instant, his mouth and eyes became openings into endless caverns of flame.

Ishy's so excited he can't even keep his glamor going.

“You seem thirsty,” the man by the fire said. “Drink.” On the table was a goblet, shining gold and ornamented with rubies and amethysts. It had not been there before. He wished he could stop jumping. It was only a dream. His mouth felt like dust.

Is it poison? Something worse? It's hard to guess what the gambit here might actually have been, because even Jordan didn't know the rules at this point and he closed off most of the options once he did.

“Are you the one?” Ba’alzamon said suddenly. “You cannot hide it from me forever. You cannot even hide yourself from me, not on the highest mountain or in the deepest cave. I know you down to the smallest hair.”

It's an impressive contradiction. I know you intimately and I cannot recognize you. It's almost as if most reincarnations are complete reinventions of the person with only a few themes to follow them through the turning of the Wheel, Ish. It's almost like you can't possibly grow tired from incarnating because that's not something that even requires energy on your part. But please, keep pretending your extremist variant of nihilism is logically coherent.

“Are you expecting glory?” Ba’alzamon said. “Power? Did they tell you the Eye of the World would serve you? What glory or power is there for a puppet? The strings that move you have been centuries weaving. Your father was chosen by the White Tower, like a stallion roped and led to his business. Your mother was no more than a brood mare to their plans. And those plans lead to your death.”

Title drop! Ish is desperately trying to advertise the Blight's premier vacation destination, a green oasis in the midst of hell, a resort so exclusive you can only visit once, so book your reservation today, before the world ends! Not even stone cold nihilism can win against the love of money.

It's great reading this with hindsight because it shows how utterly and completely full of shit Ishamael is. He guesses that this is what happened, because it's what he would do, but the White Tower had nothing to do with Rand's conception, except that one Aes Sedai gave a Foretelling to his mother and let her do what she would with it. Her getting pregnant was the farthest thing from anyone's minds at the time, let alone with an Aiel clan chief.

The Amyrlin Seat will use you until you are consumed, just as Davian was used, and Yurian Stonebow, and Guaire Amalasan, and Raolin Darksbane. Just as Logain is being used.

And yet, it's possible that this is mostly true. Logain isn't being used by Siuan - she's trying to stabilize Ghealdan, not tear it apart, and she's not interested in False Dragons - but Guaire may well have been a project of Bonwhin Meraighdin, the Red Amyrlin who rose to power the year he declared himself. The others we don't know enough about, but Siuan and Moiraine react just oddly enough to Rand's accusation later that I think Ish is providing more truth than he had been.

“Fool, I have never been bound!”

I'd say that being free for 120 years out of 3,500, a mere 3% of the total, is still hella bound, Ishy. Still though, his own bragging is hella impressive. I strongly suspect that the Second Covenant was an era that was only a step or two down from the Age of Legends, and he wrecked that. Afterward, he ensured that the Seanchan would rise up and reinvent chattel slavery, which is hella evil on his part.

“Then go to the Aes Sedai. Go to the White Tower and tell them. Tell the Amyrlin Seat of this . . . dream.”

A smart play. I don't think Moiraine would have liked hearing about this dream, and Siuan less, but the truth is they still would have supported Rand to any degree short of his joining the Shadow. But Ish plants the doubt, and Moiraine's words last chapter give Rand little reason to think he'd survive this conversation.

With a snort he lay back. Were the dreams really bad enough for him to ask the help of an Aes Sedai? On the other hand, could anything he did now get him in any deeper? He had left the Two Rivers, come away with an Aes Sedai. But there had not been any choice, of course. So did he have any choice but to trust her? An Aes Sedai? It was as bad as the dreams, thinking about it.

See what I mean? Moiraine didn't just sink a ferry, she burned a bridge, and life is going to be a lot more unpleasant for everyone these next five books as a result. Let's see how that goes next time in "Strangers and Friends"!

#let's read #wheel of time #wot #wheel of time spoilers #wot spoilers #robert jordan #rand al'thor #moiraine damodred #thom merrilin #mat cauthon #perrin aybara #lan mandragoran #egwene al'vere #min farshaw #ishamael

[blametheeditor]

Where We Stop No One Knows

Run Down: This has always been his loop, creating a giant mess and having Henry clean it up. Not even the power of a demon could ever break him from it. Yet here Henry is, to do the impossible all over again.

Content Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of death. Mentions of a major character death, non-permanent. Violence. Weapons. Dark thoughts. Satanic rituals.

I did it again, I’m a terrible blogger. Now watch as I don’t post the Jeremy and on a day completely off my normal schedule

________________________________________

Joey knew he was in trouble the moment Henry stepped out of the ink before a Bendy statue, the man’s axe at the ready, a murderous look aimed toward the studio owner slowly backing away.

“Henry, I swear,” Joey begins, hands held up in surrender. “It was an accident-”

“For the fifth time in a row!” his best friend growls, and the axe is only gripped tighter as footsteps advance.

Uh oh.

“Stein-”

“Don’t ‘Stein’ me,” the taller, stronger, angrier man growls in warning. Joey takes the hint and shuts his mouth. “Drew, you said you had it under control!”

“I do! Mostly!”

“That’s not under control!”

Well how would you know.

It’s not like he has a guide on how to effortlessly become a nine-foot-tall ink abomination of a cartoon character his ex-business partner created. There weren’t any warning labels on what would happen when he made a contract with an apparently literal demon that just wore Bendy’s smile.

How was he supposed to know getting such an extraordinary power meant he could be possessed at any time and therefore turn on the very person trying to save him from this hell! He couldn’t so there shouldn’t be so much hostility being aimed toward him!

...although, if he thinks about it, Henry’s been an absolute saint.

It took so long to gain control. So many loops of killing his best friend over, and over, and over again, and never once realizing it. Until finally, the talented man he’s always adored for being as brilliant as he is, managed to trick ‘Bendy’. Trick Joey.

Reached into the inky tunnel walls after getting killed at the same time he had, and pulled Joey out of the endless void of voices.

Of course, while it might’ve brought the monster that roamed the halls officially out of the game and therefore sending the loop on a new path, it doesn’t mean the vicious demon was gone.

The whispers of just how easy it’d be to have his hand form into claws before striking Henry’s back. The urge to dive into an ink puddle and wait for the man before lunging out to attack. The need to start the hunt and put the loop back the way it was.

...it’s won a few times. Especially in the first few moments of being Joey again. Confused, not understanding what happened, wanting to go back because it was familiar.

But despite how many times he’s killed Henry, the man has forced his best friend to come back and stay.

It’s no wonder Henry is at the end of his rope. He can’t imagine how terrifying it is to literally be stabbed in the back by someone who only moments ago was watching it.

Joey sighs before rubbing his neck sheepishly as he slumps. “I’m sorry, Stein.”

“I thought we agreed to hold off on the transforming,” Henry murmurs. Kind. Always so stupidly compassionate. The very thing that’s ensured they’re on the path /out/ of this hell instead of running in infinite circles.

“You’re doing all the work,” Joey grumbles. Of course it brings out a soft laugh.

“And you nearly killed yourself with the axe.”

“Which is why I want to use Bendy!”

“And wind up getting me killed instead!” Henry exclaims.

“...and!”

Joey’s face drains of color at the look clearly stating one more word and he’s dying a horrible death in which he won’t be saved from until the taller deems him worthy.

“No more Bendy.”

You’re so much stronger than him.

“No more Bendy.”

Henry doesn’t smile in triumph, instead simply aims a sad look down at him. As if he understands. As if he’s gone through what Joey has.

To be perfectly honest, he can’t confidently saw the other doesn’t have a clue. Because they haven’t spoken a single word about what happened when the animator for Joey Drew Studios left all those years ago. Now with a hundred loops under his belt, it might’ve even been reinforced whatever’s happened in the outside world.

Nothing’s said as they descend down the steps toward Norman’s lair. Joey might be a little preoccupied with the fact he had royally destroyed Henry’s best attempt of getting their protectionist back.

That’s been the plan ever since Joey became proof it’s possible to get the employees back from the madness from the ink. Well, it had been Henry’s plan ever since the first loop when he realized the monsters weren’t actually just beings of pure ink. But he’s right on board with it.

The only problem is Joey. Henry’s gotten close to getting through to Norman. Has had the protectionist literally reaching out to be saved instead of screeching as he chases with a single focus to kill everything that moves.

And then there’s a moment of seeming like the man’s going to be killed. The tempting thought of ‘you can do something’. The slip-second decision to allow the ink surrounding him to latch on and form the terrifying form of the ink demon.

Two seconds in of having the exhilarating power, and Henry falls dead at his feet from the clawed hand acting on its own.

You let someone else tell you what to do?

Joey freezes right before he steps into the ankle-high ink, terror grasping at him. “Go on without me, Stein.”

Not again, I can’t kill you again and leave Norman to never be saved.

“Why?”

Grey eyes look up to spot warm browns that hold nothing but genuine confusion and concern. Because the person he’s relying on hasn’t talked about the overwhelming voice constantly tempting him to murder.

The great Joey Drew allowing himself to be nothing more than a pet who obediently follows its master.

“You’ll do better without me.”

Henry shakes his head earnestly. “I want you to watch my back, Drew.”

“Before or after I kill you,” Joey snaps. “Stein, it’s fine. You’re the one who’s supposed to fix everything, I’m the one who make all the walls collapse. Just like before! Just like it’s always been!”

Joey racing off with a dream of being adored for creating incredible animations. Henry following him in order to actually create the animations. Joey overworking everyone in order to meet deadlines of his own creation with no rhyme or reason. Henry ensuring each and every one of their friends understood just how much they truly mean to the man who forgets to say it to make them stay,

Joey, making a deal with the devil, turning his life’s work into hell on earth.

Henry, returning despite being proclaimed as nothing more than a traitor for leaving, here to save them all.

“Drew-”

Before Henry can speak and properly tell him to ‘fuck off’, a familiar and eerie screech erupts at the same moment a blinding light lands on where they stand.

“Run!”

Joey doesn’t question the hand gently shoving him away from the stairs. Because even though they’re about to die, Henry always remembers what kept them alive the longest from previous loops. Keeps a level head despite always experiencing the worse of it every time.

At least both of them are experts at darting through the thick ink, neither falling behind as they try to reach the maze before Norman’s too close to spot the nook they dive into. Or gets too close to utilize a ‘little miracle’ station.

Unfortunately, their friend has always been an expert of lurking in the shadows and becoming as silent as one. So when they turn a corner, the protectionist is alrighty waiting for them.

Before Joey can turn and run, Henry grabs his arm.

“Use Bendy.”

The studio owner sputters. “Now?!”

“I’d rather die by your hands than his.”

Joey sends a snarl toward Norman as the ink climbs up his arms, already dripping down his face as it turns the iconic smile into a nightmare, moving to rip him apart it needs to die-

“Wait!”

Henry darts in front of him with a glove already raised with the intent to tear the challenger apart-

Kill them.

“Heeeeen,” Joey huffs in annoyance as he hand lowers back to his side. “Bus-s-s-syyyy.”

“We’re trying to save Norman, Drew.”

Henry gives a smirk before cursing as his now taller, stronger, demonic best friend shoves him down into the ink. But there’s no movement to lunge at the projectionist standing a few feet away seeming indecisive. And any want to hurt the human grumbling as he attempts to stand disappears as Joey hunches over the vulnerable form protectively.

A warning growl is given as the animator finally stands up before offering a hand toward the light. “Hey, Norman. Long time no see.”

Joey roars as a screech proclaims there’s no one by that name anymore. Nothing but a void of loathing.

“It’s me, Stein,” Henry continues. Takes a step forward as the ink demon hovers closely behind. “And Drew. We’re here to help ya.”

There’s no recognition. Joey’s ready to fight when suddenly the reel stops rolling and the light turns off. When it turns on, it’s only for a moment.

Flash. Flash, flash, a longer flash, short again. Flash, flash, longer, flash.

Two flashes, longer, longer, two more flashes.

I’m killing him.

The only thing that stops him is the look of absolute /delight/ on Henry’s face. “Yeah, Polk, it’s me.”

The camera turns to look at Joey before another string of flashes commences.

“And that’s Drew. Kind of glad I thought about teaching you morse code a few loops back.”

Morse code. When did Henry learn morse code?

“Hey Drew,” Henry waves. “Are you feelin’ okay?”

You could kill both of them without any trouble.

“Fiiiiiiine.”

“Let’s head upstairs then.”

Joey finds himself a bit perplexed as Henry begins his trek back as if he wasn’t about to get killed by Norman for who knows what time. That the looming demon hadn’t killed him plenty of times before.

Norman carefully walks forward until their standing side by side in order to make an odd chirp.

Oh he’s definitely lost his mind.

Yet the studio owner finds himself following the madman he trusts with his life. Who trusts him back.

Henry flicks ink away before giving a thoughtful look toward Norman. “Drew figured out he can use Bendy and become human again. What about you?”

Joey bristles as he’s given a look of ‘show me’. Despite the fact Norman’s in the very beginning stages of winning his mind back. He knows that as soon as this form disappears, they’re getting killed.

“Don’t be an asshole, Drew.”

“/Me/ be an asshole!” the shorter snaps, enjoying the fact his ink doesn’t stick to him like it does Henry. “I’m allowed to be cautious. Mr. I Had My Best Friend Murder Me Two Seconds After I Saved Him.”

“I don’t think Norman has the same problem as you,” Henry smiles.

Turns out, the projectionist doesn’t. Because the man can’t shed his ink and turn human like Joey can. At least, not right now. “...did you make a contract?”

Norman makes a noise Joey can no longer understand, but it sounds almost upset. So when he doesn’t react, Henry’s treated to a blinding light attempting to blind him by morse code. “Oh he’s definitely an idiot.”

“At least I’m human!”

“We’ll find a way for you to transform,” the animator promises to their friend.

Despite the glare being aimed at the once again taller, Joey nods to state they will. They. Not just Henry. He’s fixing his own mess this time.

...it feels kind of nice.

#this was a request from a good friend of mine #I didn't want to tag ya in case you didn't want me to! #but thank you for the request ^^ #this was absolutely FUN to write #and I hope you enjoyed it!!! #and no I haven't learned my lesson for not queueing the Jeremy when I have my lapotp open and already posting something #such is life #BATIM #BTE writing #request #cw #content warning

[starrypawz]

[ GAZE ]  taller muse is sitting and the shorter one who is standing in front of them takes their face into their hands while they talk. 

Or

[ COMFORT ]  for the taller muse to tuck their chin atop the shorter one’s head while they hug. 

For GerryNemo ?

Tol and Smol Prompts

AO3

Minor Content warnings for: Hurt/Comfort/Fluff Canon typical Corruption content, induced corruption OCD type invasive thoughts (Fear of contamination and unhygienic things) mild anxiety and panic

Touching, or to be more specific affectionate touching has been a largely foreign concept to both of them.

 However, since the first tentative brush of fingers that Gerry is still pretty sure was mostly accidental on his part it’s sparked something between them that’s made them realise exactly what they’ve been missing out on in their respective short lives that have had a lot more living crammed into them by this point than anyone should.

And it’s awakened something in both of them that gnaws almost incessantly and demands to be sated. Such as the way Nemo has taken to curling into his side when they’re on a sofa or even in some daring moments on public transport. And the way one night recently Gerry found himself with his head on Nemo’s lap when sitting upright proved too much effort but sleep wasn’t coming easy and he found himself rolling in the sort of pleasant buzz some people likely spent a lot of money on certain substances to try and achieve.

Nemo now sits on a (thankfully) mostly empty tube carriage on the now very familiar journey from Morden that Nemo could probably take in their sleep

Nemo sighs, knees drawn up to their chest and hood up as they feel the last reserves of adrenaline start to fade away and Nemo hopes that whatever’s left within them can take them back home.

Or whatever Nemo has that’s as close as they can get to a home. Maybe Home is too strong a word. Either way it’s a shrine towards largely mundane banality that translates as relative safety. Once the door is closed behind them Nemo is the observer of snapshots of other lives that are seemingly (thankfully) untouched about what actually lurks out there if you take more than a moment to notice and who seldom seem to realise that the house is haunted.

Maybe it’s not a home, it's a haunt?

Maybe it’s…

Nemo sighs into the largely empty carriage as they realise their thoughts are swirling and trying to make weird statements like that which are in the vein of scribbled down ideas in the wee hours by an insomniac who thinks they’ve finally found a solution for all of humanity’s problems but when looked at in the morning it’s just a collection of scribblings that can’t be parsed and have the writer wondering why ‘A really big bucket’ was apparently part of the plan.

Nemo looks around, tries to find anything else to focus on to distract their brain and then notices.

There’s a suspiciously sticky spot on the carriage floor.

There’s a suspicious sticky spot on the carriage floor, something most days Nemo wouldn’t pay much mind to beyond a brief, resigned ‘ew’ and a mental note to try and avoid stepping in it but today Nemo can’t help but stare at it.

Stare at it and be revolted, repulsed.

Stare at it, fixate

Be revolted by it, by whoever left it, how dare they? Humans are gross aren’t they? Disgusting filthy things that contaminate everything they have the audacity to touch.

Did that spot just start oozing? Nemo blinks a small part of their brain trying to push through to tell them it’s just a trick of the light but

This entire carriage is filthy isn’t it? Look at it, it's covered in filth and you’re sitting right in it, revolting.

It’s oozing, it’s moving no it’s not just the brief flicker of the lights in the carriage it’s moving towards...

And it’s on you now and you’re just as filthy and

Nemo gives an undignified whimper as they find themself with the sleeve of their hoodie rolled up rubbing at their forearm hard enough to turn their skin red. Creeping ooze having made its way up their leg and-

No!

No

Nemo gives an equally undignified gasp

Stop, breathe, breathe, breathe

Nemo breathes, in and out in and out

Think about something else. Anything else.

Gerry.

Think about Gerry.

And Nemo does think about Gerry. Thinks about earlier today where he had Nemo pulled close to his chest (and not for the first time) and how (not for the first time) despite everything Nemo found themself realising the way his coat envelops them and more importantly how Gerry envelops them. The way he did his best to keep Nemo flush to his chest as they both beat a fairly hasty retreat whilst his ever present, ever trusty lighter was in the other the tiny flame seemingly their only hope against the oozing creeping…

Nemo shudders again and dares to glance at the sticky spot on the floor but this time it’s just  a sticky spot. It doesn’t ooze, doesn’t move, doesn’t set alight like pitch, doesn’t grow teeth, doesn’t become a miniature black hole it’s just a sticky spot.

Nemo keeps thinking about Gerry.

Thinks about how after they’d both put that place far far behind them the way that Gerry had slumped against the nearest available wall and Nemo had knelt in front of him placed their hands on his cheeks and he had looked up at them, one still shaking hand lightly wrapped around Nemo’s wrist and despite the words out of Nemo’s mouth being ‘Are you ok?’ He was more concerned about ‘Are you ok?’

Nemo still draws into themself, knees still to their chest, hood up but some of the tension has gone. Just a few more stops, just a few more… 

It’s just a random sticky spot on the floor. Totally mundane… 

Gerry

Gerry 

Gerry

It seems to follow the familiar rattle of the carriage. Nemo’s now much steadier breaths. The flicker of the light. 

Nemo thinks about Gerry

Thinks about how as often happened there was there was a hug at the tube station. And how yet again that hug went on just a little longer, trying to steal just a few more precious moments before they parted ways. How Nemo was once more almost swallowed by Gerry’s trenchcoat as he had rocked a little. How they had stood there amongst the countless other souls passing through the station and had given any of them little mind and those around them had given any little mind. How Nemo had felt the press of Gerry’s chin against the top of their forehead and not for the first time Nemo felt they’d be happy to live right there, against his chest and under his coat how they felt like they belonged there that maybe that was actually home. 

Nemo thinks how they’d yet again both pulled back slowly but neither of them actually let go. How Gerry had checked and checked again that Nemo would be fine on the way home, and Nemo had made promises to let him know when they were back home. How He’d touched their cheek and Nemo had leant into it and then how at the last moment there’d been a brush of lips against their forehead. 

And that was new. 

It was new, oh it was new. 

Nemo squirms as they feel a flush of heat hit their cheeks and they’re glad for the hood at this moment. 

But then it didn’t necessarily mean anything did it? Or did it but then-

Nemo’s snapped out of it by the announcement that they have arrived in Elephant and Castle. But then they do still keep thinking about Gerry as they leave the train, as they weave through the station which is thankfully mostly empty other than a few stragglers, as they come back out into open air as they walk the short distance back to the place that is either a house or a haunt, as they keep their promise and tell Gerry they made it back ok, as they undertake a range of mundane things that must be done before they’re able to slip under the sheets just as their phone buzzes with a

`I’m glad you’re safe

Good night'

Nemo thinks about Gerry. 

#tma nemo #gerry keay #gerry delano #the magnus archives #tma #ghoststories #starry writes stuff