#One of our attendings said that was a lovely phrase

[ghostieyanyan]

If you don’t mind, which yandere twst boys do you see being most likely to exploit a mentally exhausted prefect to kidnap them?

To clarify, I think it can be argued that the prefect would be absolutely done with NRC after six life-or-death situations due to the overblots on top of being forced to adapt to education system of another world and putting up with the quality of students at NRC. You can’t tell me that a school full of villains would treat the only magicless student well. That just screams prime opportunity to manipulate the prefect into leaving NRC to go somewhere “safer” with one of the boys.

Once again, I’m just curious about your thoughts so don’t feel pressured to respond!

yes yes yes!!!

poor perfect tired to the bone from crowly and the other students. if only there was a knight and shining armor that can come and save them.

No longer an accidentally post! But I mean it did help me finish it lol

~Mental-Exhausted!Mc~

Yan!Riddle x mc

Yan!Leona x mc

Yan!Jamil x mc

Yan!Lilia x mc

Warnings: yandere, kidnapping, drug use (shrink potion), abusive behavior, chains, collar, gag, parenthood (gender-neutual), gritting teeth(?) (I know some people hate it so ill put it in here), not a lot of proof-reads,

~~~~~

Riddle

yes, riddle was the first overblot (technically) and after his overblot, he felt awful about how he behaved. he was supposed to look after Heartslaybu but he ended up becoming his mother. he hated himself for that.

So now, not only is he taking better care of his dorm, with the help of his dorm. but whenever he sees you, he tries his best to check up on you.

How are you? Do you need help with any school assignments? etc.

they all had sweet intents at first but over time, you started to look drain.. like the life was sucked right out of you. when he asked ace and deuce, they confirmed that you were just tired of all the overblots and being crowley's lap dog. if only he knew how to help you...

at first he asked, trey and cater about how he should help you. they were mature enough to know, right?

cater, being cater, teased him on "having a crush on the perfect" or how he phrased it "oooohhh you are down bad!! lol" whatever that means...

Trey said that maybe ask the perfect if they do need help. but Riddle knows the perfect, they'll say they're fine even when they're not..

riddle felt lost and swallowed his pride as he dials his mother's number.

his mother was furious with the fact that riddle was facing an issue he cant fix himself but what she said about perfect shocked him.

"well.. maybe if this perfect isn't as perfect as their title, maybe they don't belong in Night Raven College!"

with that... the call ended.

now that he wasn't being held by his mother's strings, he saw red...! no one talks about his perfect like that! but.. she has a point.. (which makes him more frustrated) if perfect is miserable here... maybe they shouldn't be attending NRC. but where would they go...?

when he thought about that, he realized he didn't really want to be away from you... you mean too much to him.

so later that day, he requested you to join him in his room, he need to talk to you. you agreed cause why would you be cautious with someone you trust, plus you were too tired to worry about how strange the request was. he gave you tea and asked if you were okay.. you said yes, just stressed with some classes and drank you tea. it tasted... off.

you feel yourself shrinking.. you were shrinking!

you looked at riddle and he was just smiling at you! he picked you up and placed you into a tea pot.

"it'll be okay, my dear. once i graduate and get us a nice home, we'll live our happy lives away from this stress and... toxic poison. But for now, you'll have to behave. i love you, my dear"

~~~~~

Leona

Whether you noticed him or not, Leona watches you run back and forth, from hallway to hallway. Kinda like a mouse running around for food but also staying hidden. Sometimes your running around helps him sleep or just ease him to a zen.

He'd normally wouldn't bat an eye because you're just a lap dog for that crow. But after time has past. He watched as you get slower, more exhausted. like you're pushing to prove something. It ercked him more than he would like. It hit too close to home for him.

When he finally was able to approach you on the matter, you looked like your soul was taken from you. Something within just snapped. He had enough of this. He made the call and suddenly, savanaclaw students came to your side and dragged you to leona's room. If you try to resist, Leona lucky told them to not hurt you too badly. But accidents happens. With their rough handling, you blacked out.

You wake up with a pretty collar around your neck and a chain attach to it? You look around and this is not your ramshackle room. You tried to sit up for a better look and get quick pulled down by the chain collar. It nearly broke your neck! But Leona would say you're being dramatic.

"Quick moving, im trying to sleep.."

You looked and saw Leona. He was laying on your chest and his legs were holding your legs down. He was like a strange weighted blanket. He wasn't in his school uniform but looks like he's in home attire?

"Where are we, leona..?"

You said, scared cause your literally in the hands of a lion that could kill you really quick..

He ears twitched and he looked up at you, bored. But he let out a smirk.

"Were home~"

It took you a minute to process what he said... home? Apparently your confused was evident on your face and leona let out a long sigh. He moved or above you, pining you down.

"Were at Sunset Savanna palace and WE are both gonna be staying here until I can trust you'll be a good obedient herbivore and stay by my side."

You were lost for words and unconsciously started to struggle under leona. Trying to push him off, kicking your legs, he got really annoyed when you accidentally pinched his tail with the bed and your foot.

His retaliation was to slam you down, knocking the wind out of your lungs. As you were gasping for air, he bit you really hard on your throat. You let out a silent scream. You thought you were going to die. This was your last moment of life.

Leona eventually let's go but quickly replacing his fangs with his hand.

"You WILL be obedient... do I make myself clear.."

That wasn't a question.. it was a demand.

~~~~~

Jamil

Jamil hardly noticed you.. PERIOD.

He's busy not only taking care of scarabia but also their housewarden. While his housewarden takes the credit.. he hated it. And the fact his housewarden is so happy go lucky to him too. Makes his blood boil!!

Jamil truly believed that no one would feel his pain, his struggles.. because everyone sees Kalim "success" before anything!

You and Jamil were in the housewarden meeting, well on the outside of the office during the meeting. Jamil had to be there because Kalim and you were there for Crowley...

You both had a quick moment until you asked him hows he been? He lends his head back against the wall and sighs. You laugh at his actions.

"I get that, hehe"

His eye twitched.

"Do you now..?"

"Heh.. I really do. I'm here for Crowley, even tho he's the Headmage. He's like a spoiled brat with responsibility... and HE knowing more about this world, and the work he does for it, more than I do. But nooo... he still gives it to me!"

Jamil stares at you as you vent about your stress and struggles in NRC. He honestly thought that your life is harder than his! How on the seven do you-?

The doors to the office opens and you and jamil both stand up. The other housewardens walked off and kalim ran to jamil, like a parent picking up their kid in kindergarten.

Jamil sighs, seeing kalim's face makes him exhausting... he quickly looks at you, not turning his head to not make it obvious. You were walking into Crowley's office as he hands you a big stack of papers. He practically saw the light in your eyes fade... he HAS to do something.. but what?

A few days past and he just watched you get more exhausted. The more he watches you the more his feelings for you grows. And the more he watched you get degraded the more he wants to set the world on fire for you..

You couldn't hold a conversation as long as you use to now! What is Crowley making you do?

His hand balled into fist. Then he get an idea.. he's always wanted to do this but never thought about it, there will be come changes to the plan with you in it but it could work!

It was in the evening and he stopped by the Ramshackle dorm. With shaking hands he knocked. He can't believe he's gonna do it.

You answer and he quick took out a cloth from his pocket and covered your mouth. Your struggles were pointless with his strength and your muffled screams wasn't going to be heard by anyone since you practically lived in the middle of nowhere. You went limp and he smile grew.

You woke up, chained, gaged, and blindfolded. You didn't know where you were you were so scared.. but you hear foot steps...

"Good morning, my little desert flower~ im sorry I had to contain you like this, I can't risk anymore seeing you. But once we leave the Isle of Sages, ill let you see."

~~~~~

Lilia

Lilia has been watching you since that first day you came here. How much chaos your presence cause, not including Grims presence, was amazing.

He'd be lying if he said he didn't feel something for you after that first day.

Whenever you're doing anything, he watches. And if hes busy, he has his bats watch you instead. They'll report any and everything about you. Including the dark circles appear under your eyes.

To say he was a little pissed... was an understandment. How dare the Crow hurt someone he cared for..

Lilia had half a mind to just get rid of Crowley with a big display of his remand.. but his kids will be scar so probably not.

He'd would think about if for a bit and told himself, why not just take you to live in Briar Valley? You could live there and he'd support you and care for you. You have a caring personal type with how much you take care of those first years.

You'll make a perfect parent...

Lilia stopped by Ramshackle dorm for a "surprised visit". You thought his strange behavior was just lilia being a strange guy? Meanwhile lilia felt like he was young again when he's with you. He felt shy and anxious. He was all fidgety and not making 100% eye contact with you.

Oh by the seven, you stir something within him and its not unwelcomed.

"Lilia? I don't mean to be rude but.. umm... why are you here..? You kinda came at a bad time.. Crowley has some paper work he wants me to fill out for him.."

Lilia fidgeting stop and if you had his super hear, you'd hear him grit his teeth for a moment.

He flips around suddenly and gets a unsettling smile.

"I came because I just remembered a old story and I wanted to tell someone before it slips my mind!"

You stared at Lilia but nodded for him to continue.

"Do you remember when I told you about the story of the Thorn Fairy? And how she put a curse on this cute little human~?"

With every word he spoke, he got closer to you.. you tried to make some distance but it quickly was put to a halt when lilia grabbed your arm.

"L-ilia.. You're hurting me.."

You tried to pull away but nothing can compete with Lilia's strength.

"Did I also tell you that with skill and focus, a powerful mage, can change the effect of such a powerful spell~?"

You're particularly trembling at this point. He got up really close to you and he shows you a small sewing needle.

"I promise, it won't be too long. Just long enough for everyone to stop looking for you~"

{I didn’t give Lilia an art piece because I drew something similar already}

#twst fanart #twst #twst headcanons #twst wonderland #disney twst #yandere twst #art #digital art #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader

[mistydeyes]

oh my gosh congrats!!! 1k is absolutely insane and you deserve it!! for the prompts maybe gold and/or uniforms with Price? I have become an excessive price girlie since I followed you and I'm so here for it (and also for how well your write all the boys tbh) congrats again <333

@hxad-ovxr-hxart with the most heartwarming compliments as always! thank you so much for all your support and i'm glad that you've come to the dark side of being a price girl HAHA we love our favorite commanding officer (like look at how he SMILES)

link to the prompt list and 1k celebration!

prompts: gold - a small gifted ring as a token of your love and uniforms - they sure clean up well as you look at them in their dress uniform

pairing: John Price x fem!reader

warning: swearing!

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

gold

"John, love, you don't always have to give me a gift before you leave," you chuckled as he excitedly entered your home with a small bag. Whether it was houseplants, a boxed set of a new television series, or expensive scotch (one that he made you promise not to drink in his absence), he always gave you a small token of his love. It was a sentimental gesture as it was his way of promising to return home to you. "I think you'll like this one," he said and kissed you gently before joining you on the couch.

He rested an arm around your shoulder as you unwrapped the delicate packaging. You neatly folded the pastel tissue paper and unveiled two velvet boxes. "Now what do we have here," you alluded as John watched you intently. You opened the first box to reveal a gorgeous gold band engraved with an intricate floral design and delicate diamonds. You twisted it in your fingers as you admired the twinkle the ring showed in the warm living room light. "Look on the inside," he whispered as he joined your admiration. You turned the ring and saw he had engraved the ring with, "to come home." You were confused at first at the truncated phrase until John encouraged you to open the other box. You opened it to reveal a simplistic gold band, one more fit for his fingers than yours. To his instruction, you turned the ring and gently read the words out loud. "A promise," you began to say as you looked at him. "To come home," he finished and you were at a loss for words.

You kissed him softly in response and as a token of your appreciation. You placed the ring on your finger and admired it as you fell into his arms. "This is beautiful, John," you said softly, "thank you." He wrapped his strong arms around you and placed his hands on top of yours. As you both looked at the shining bands, you were beaming with love and happiness. "Thought it was time I got you a promise ring," he said and kissed your forehead gently. You wish the moment never ended as you sat peacefully, knowing he would be gone the next day. However, one thought was still on your mind. "At first I thought it was an engagement ring," you thought allowed and you could hear the hearty baritones of John's laugh. "Sweetheart, I'll give you the entire universe for our proposal," he began to say as you looked up at him, "and I'll be damned if I let you unwrap it yourself." You smiled at the words, "our proposal", as you fell more in love. "I'll be sure to hold you to that promise."

uniforms

To date, graduation from the Army Foundation College was one of your favorite events. You loved seeing the smiling faces of family members as they saw the newest members of the British Army. It always reminded you of the moment when you saw your proud parents excitedly wave to you amongst the crowd. However, the constant missions of the 141, meant you were not always privy to attend but miraculously the team had made it home in one piece and you were preparing for the day.

Ghost had graciously allowed everyone to stay at his home and you were trying your best to be a respectful guest. However, not everyone was on the same page as it had been quite some time since you dressed in your service attire. First, you were awoken by a half-dressed Soap complaining his pants no longer fit. "Fucking hell, just squeeze into them," you yelled as you groggily got up. "Curse these thighs," he replied and exited the room. Next was Gaz who always seemed to forget the order of his badges and various medals. You helped to adjust his regalia as you could hear Ghost and Price begin to wake and start their routine. "Where's your silver one, Garrick?" you asked as you noticed it missing. "I don't have one," he replied confidently and you rolled your eyes. "Yes you do, it's the Special Air Service one," you corrected and soon the room was thrown into chaos as he searched for it.

After the two Sergeants were finally dressed, you had the time to put on your skirt and adjust your tie. You gently left your khaki jacket hanging as you went to check on your superiors. You knocked on Price's door as it was the first one at the end of the hallway. "Captain, are you ready?" you asked and he called for you to enter. Despite having the same generic uniform as everyone in the house, you couldn't deny he looked undeniably handsome in the attire. The only exception was the belts. You, him, and Ghost had the signature brown belt and sash that set you apart from the other ranks. From his back facing you, you could see it still fit him well and his face in the mirror showed he had given his facial hair a much-needed shave and comb. He turned to you with a lopsided tie and a dashing smile. "Let me fix that for you," you said kindly and enclosed the space as your delicate fingers adjusted the tie to a presentable position. You couldn't help but notice the expensive cologne he had put on as well as his quickened breaths at your sudden touch. "It's been a while," he joked and you joined in the laughter. "I played mother this morning to the Sergeants," you said while rolling your eyes. "Those muppets," he replied and went to pick up his beret. He held it in his hands as he allowed you to exit down the stairs.

Upon your entrance, you couldn't help but smile at the three prim and proper men in front of you. "Would have never pictured this when were face down in the mud," you remarked and went to put on your jacket. They all laughed and returned with banter as you buttoned your coat and buckled the brown belt along with the sash. You were adjusting the beret on your head when Price walked over to you. "Missed a button, Lieutenant," he remarked and you could feel your breath hitch as he looped the button together and smoothed out your jacket. "Thanks, Captain," you said, hopefully not exposing your small crush on your superior. "Alright, who's driving?" Soap called out and you laughed before following Price and Ghost. "Thanks, Captain," Gaz teasingly said as he walked behind you. "Didn't know blush was part of the uniform," Soap joined in and as you groaned, you hoped that Price was ignorant to their blatant teasing.

#task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #cod x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #modern warfare 2 #call of duty #mw2 imagine #madebyizzie #john price x reader #price x reader #captain john price #price imagine #mw2 #izzie is writing #izzie celebrates 1k

[slasherbozo]

Henlo can u pls write könig secretly using his s/o's fragrant shampoo, soap, ye the whole nine yards, while theyre away?

Sweet-scented König gets separation anxiety whenever you’re gone, to fix this he finds comfort in whatever smells just like you.

warning’s ; gender-neutral reader, not much warning tho just reader being in love with a cute spine breaker, kissing a little there and there.

A/N ; it’s a lil short fic, sorry for that but I do hope you enjoy <3 German phrases stolen from our own mighty god google translator <333

masterlist ♡

König using your shampoo and soap is both silly and flattering to you, its obvious that he’s trying to hide the fact that he is using them. But you’re no idiot to his doings, so when you come home one day after being gone for awhile, his scent hits you. And you realize he identically smells just like you, at first you said nothing, since of course he was your lovely partner and you didn’t mind that your partner uses your own hygiene products from time to time. It also meant the scent was to his liking, and that was even better.

But once your shampoo and soap just began to basically run out, and his stay the same you realized you had to say something about it or else you’ll have to continue buying more and more, and these products aren’t this cheap to begin with. 

You cornered the man once you caught glimpses of him, the man seemingly sensing your reason of approach, cowered away and you sweetly called out his name.

“ Ko. ”

He looked at you, his eyes locking with yours for few seconds before looking away, he spoke with a stutter. And you hardly could contain an amused smile, he was too darn adorable for you, you almost forgot the reasoning of approach. 

“ Ja, mein Liebling? ”

// “ yes, my darling? ” //

You stepped forward, further intruding any personal space this man has, and used your nose to smell the waft of scent adoring the skin of his exposed neck. He smelled absolutely delicious, you preferred the scent on him than on you any day, the ambrosial taste of a man who’s appearance begs to differ. 

At the top floats a note of honeyed sweetness, spread among low irresistible nuanced notes a smell that tickled your brain just right when you were at the store picking and choosing. 

“ what- what do you think you’re doing ? ”

The man asked bringing you back to reality, your lips quickly quiver into a slay smirk.

“ You smell.. wonderful I wonder what soap you’ve been using lately.. ”

The comment seemingly catches him off guard, and you chuckle at his reaction when his eyebrows furrowed in response. You bring a hand close to his cheek, your thumb moving in an up and down motion against it. You try your best not to kiss that frown off his face, but first you ease his worried expression.

“ it’s alright I don’t mind you using my shampoo and.. soap, if you find the smell nice, but I do mind greatly when they’re gone for good by the end of the weekend.. ”

The man lets out a stifled whine, and you knew he was going to quickly explain himself. He lets his strong arms wrap around your body, and he leans to let his head rest against your shoulders.

“ Oh.. meine liebe.. I’m sorry I wouldn’t use it just because.. I use it because it reminds me of your scent.. ”

//“ my love ”//

He explained himself in a rather quiet tone than his usual, you knew this man was a little insecure of his image and probably being caught using a ‘ fragrant ‘ soap belonging to his partner doesn’t make it all well to his ‘ masculinity’. Even though you always made sure to assure him every time he felt anything in such way, this time you just pretended to not hear any word of his sentence, because you rather he say it confidently.

“ come again ? ”

The man looks at you with widen eyes, but he then again looks anywhere else than your own face. And you felt a little frustrated with how much eye contact breaking he’s doing these days, you knew your job wasn’t nice to both of you, demanding your attendance for hours then days then months on occasions. 

Which meant he was left to do some self love on his own, while probably brooding about certain people working with you who were certainly taking your ‘ attention ‘ while doing your job. You always came back home feeling regretful for neglecting the thought of nurturing your relationship further more, would that be possible though with how much time you both don’t rightfully have?

“ Come on.. what did you say hm? ”

Your hand would gently run against the scar adoring your lovers cheek, he swiftly took a hold of your hand into his. And he would lay his lips flat against your palm planting a chaste kiss before snuggling further into it, he then took a deep breath, before releasing a heavy sigh too. 

“ Scheiß-.. I miss you.. everyday I miss you so much, mein Engel.. without you here or your scent I just go crazy.. ” 

//“ shit ” // // “ My angle. ” //

He said with such urgency, and you would lie if you said you weren’t a little surprised with every word coming from his mouth. But he continues before you could say something yourself, his words even demanding much more from you than you could give.

“ mein Ein und Alles, even if I use whatever soap or perfume you put on I can’t seem to forget the distance that leaves me separated whenever you’re not here with me.. ”

You couldn’t grasp how forlorn and desperate this man sounded to you, and you take a little moment to analyze his words, his eyes now look at you with such force it pulls your breath right from your lungs. Such man could love so much he feels empty when you’re not around him, it’s simply a rare thing to be witnessed.

“ I didn’t know you.. felt that.. ”

What you couldn’t manage to muster up with words you did with actions, you took his whole face into your hands pulling him close till you could feel his warm breath fan over your face. You let your lips press against his, his lips warm but not soft, and parted so slightly. You could feel his heart hammer against your chest so loudly, once you pull a way you hear him say with such sway in his tone.

“ Ich liebe dich.. ”

#könig x you #könig x reader #cod mwf2 #cod könig #mw2 #call of duty

[fictionalmenplz]

Never In A Thousand Years

Summary: Time passes, Camille and Ivar become closer, she's learning the language and finding a sudden interest in becoming a shield maiden, she runs into Hvitserk...

Warnings: fluff (sort of), fighting, weapons.

A/N: Sorry this is shorter than my other chapters! *More notes at the end*

Chapter Four

A few days have passed since I was married to Ivar, that night had only strengthened our relationship despite how nothing happened besides cuddling. I learned how to make Scandinavian foods that most men in Kattegat loved, and it was true, Ivar's plates were always completely finished off.

He was more comfortable with me helping him with his braces, and he forgave me whenever I accidentally hurt him, just like I had only minutes ago when I was helping him strap his braces onto his legs.

He was sitting next to me on the bed, tightening the last strap into place and then sighing and falling on his back onto the soft mattress. I smiled, lightly laughing and falling next to him, resting my head on his arm.

After a few seconds I opened my mouth to speak but he beat me to it, "I am sorry," he said and I turned my head to look at him with a quirked eyebrow, "You have already learned it from my brother's whore, I cannot give you what every woman wants... a child."

"I hope this does not offend you, but, how do you know that?" I asked, propping myself on my elbow. He slowly rolled his eyes, staring blankly at the ceiling. "Well, because I could not please the only woman I ever made love to. It would not work." He said quietly and my expression softened.

"Ivar it was only one woman, you do not know for sure if it was her, or you that was the problem."

"I'm sure it was me." He said, his bottom lip tightening into a frown. "And I'm sure it was her. You say she used to sleep with many other men before she married Ubbe?"

He nodded his head. "Then it is not your fault that a whore could not make your cock work." He almost laughed, the frown disappeared off his face and he lolled his head over to face me.

"Are you saying it was because I did not find her good enough to sleep with?" He copied my position, resting on his side propped up by his elbow now. I shrugged, "Possibly." He hummed, nodding his head.

"She is the, only one?" I asked curiously, a small smile on my face and he wiped his palm over his face, nodding his head once again. "Why are you sounding so fascinated by this?" He asked, brows furrowed.

"How can you be so certain you are incapable when you've only tried once, and that was so long ago also!" I exclaimed, waving my hand. His cheeks heated and he shrugged, looking away and laying on his back.

I scooted closer, resting on his chest and watching his face as he flicked his eyes at me with a confused expression, "What?" He asked, his tone growing higher. "I am your wife am I not?"

"Yes, what-" I shushed him, "We should try it." I said simply and he got quiet, slowly shaking his head, he gently pulled me off his chest and sat up, slumping his shoulders. "I have business to attend to."

I frowned, sitting up as well and watching as he pushed himself onto his feet and grabbed his cane off the wall, swinging open the cabin door and leaving. I cursed myself for even bringing up the topic, technically it was him but I pried when I shouldn't have.

After sulking in rejection for a good while, I decided I would try and forget about him for the afternoon and wander Kattegat. I carefully pulled my pelt over my shoulders as to not ruin my hair and then set out.

My language was getting better, I was taught simple phrases like hello, no, goodbye, and other things like that. The air was somewhat warm, though clouds lingered low to the earth above the town, making me wonder how heavy they were with rain.

I tried not to stare at those who stared at me, too many pagans hate me already. I mean, everyone hated Rollo, a pagan who supposedly converted and was then arranged to marry a princess? I hated him.

None of these pagans know me, they think they know me because I'm a French princess that hates being a slight bit dirty. I know they think I'm disgusted by their ways, and for a little while I was but I grew a deep respect for their devotion to their gods.

They sacrifice almost daily and dedicate their own ways of life to fulfilling the purpose the gods made them for, they are a lot like Christians in a way, but more violent and ruthless.

I've been finding that I don't miss my old life, not at all. Living in a home with my own husband and doing actual work is doing me good, I'm glad I won't have to live with my father ever again.

"Er du interessert i dette?" A woman said, standing behind a table filled with trinkets and some clothes. I translated one word, interested. I stepped over, carefully examining her trinkets assorted on pelts.

I smiled, pointing at a concealed knife, about the length of my hand. She nodded, picking it up and pulling out the knife halfway. The blade was pale silver and shined in the light.

The handle had delicate pears poking out along one side, the knife looked like it had never been used before. I reached into my pocket and took out a few coins, her eyes widened at them and then pointed at the smallest copper one.

"Dette er mer enn nok." She said while shaking her head. I gave it to her and she beamed at me, I nodded my head. "Thank you," I say, tucking the blade in its case inside my pocket and leaving.

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

"Skjoldjomfru." I repeated, I know she is pretending to not understand me. Shield maiden is what I said. I want her, Torvi, to teach me to be a shield maiden.

Torvi sighed, leaning against the wooden pole of the pavilion where she was just practicing with her son, axe in hand as she considered my request. She scanned her eyes over my apparel.

"You are not dressed to be able to fight." She said and turned away, "Then let me watch for a while!" I argued, pulling her to face me. Her eyes were narrowed as she glanced over the pavilion and the parts of town she could see.

She was looking for Ivar. Perhaps she thinks Ivar would be upset if he learned his little wife was learning to fight back, no, he wasn't like that.

"I don't know where he went." I replied as best I could, she half nodded, biting her cheek and then nodded again, more rough this time. "You may watch, princess."

I smiled and shuffled back to the pole, hugging my arms to my ribs to keep in the warmth. I watched as Torvi and her son circled each other, small smiles on their lips.

I admired their connection, Torvi seemed young to have a son in his teenage years, but that seems to only strengthen their relationship. Her son strikes first, lunging his blade toward her armored shoulder and she quickly dodged away. My eyes widened, realizing they were fighting with real, sharpened weapons.

As Torvi darted away from his attack she spun around, bringing her axe down only to be met with his shield. I found myself picking my nails, so engrossed in their training that it made me nervous to see who would come out with a victory.

I felt a presence next to me, slightly glancing to my left to get a glimpse of them, it was Hvitserk.

This chapter obv isn't as good as the other ones but I'm working on it, I took a break for a bit so my posting routine will probably be irregular so please bear with me.

Also I wanted to thank you all for all the reblogs and likes!!! It means so much to me that you all like my work! 😁

#vikings #pagan #ivar ragnarsson #ivar x reader #norse mythology #ivar lothbrok #vikings fanfiction #vikings fic

[bobawitch]

Love Story // Spencer Reid x French!Reader

Summary: french reader meets Reid and they become friends though both feel a strong pull towards the other. This is heavily based on the song Love Story by Indila.

A/N: OMG another oneshot, ik, i legit said i'm not the oneshot type and here i am. i really appreciate the kind words on my last one shot and I hope people like this one too!! This is around end of season 9 reid.

warnings: none!

word count: 948

You had moved to the states around a year ago, gotten yourself a sturdy job at a cafe/bookstore. You frequented any other bookstores along with the flower shops that reminded you of the quaint streets of Bezier. Your first home, nothing had driven you out in a rush but you always wanted to see the world. You had just bought a new book and were now looking at the flower shop nearby. That’s where he saw you, you were holding a rose and had the book in your free hand. You caught his attention immediately but it would be a few more weeks before he ever spoke to you.

L'âme en peine

Il vit mais parle à peine

Il attend devant cette photo d'antan

Derek had been teasing the guy endlessly for weeks now, Blake always telling the older man to leave Spence alone but honestly Reid didn’t mind it that much. He knew he was being irrational but something about you encapsulated the man. He greatly enjoyed when he’d go in for coffee and you’d be reading a book he liked. He couldn’t get you out of his mind but he was still so nervous. He was nervous to feel things towards someone again. It had been around a year since Maeve was killed in front of him and yet he hadn’t tried to speak to another woman. But today he decided he would speak to you, no matter how it went. He finally upped his courage to ask you about the book you were reading. You smiled, shutting it briefly to talk about the book in your hand. Spencer had recognized it as Nausea by Jean-Paul Sartre though he wasn’t expecting it to be in French. You spoke of his profound outlooks about how human nature is our own sickening curse. Spence gave that nerdy chuckle he always did and agreed with you though disagreeing with it being a fully bad curse. But this was just the beginning of the two of you. 

Il, il n'est pas fou

Il y croit, c'est tout

Il la voit partout

Il l'attend debout

Une rose à la main

À part elle il n'attend rien

Nearly two months later you two had basically started your own small book club, and when I say small I mean there were two members. You and Spence would talk for hours about different books and he always enjoyed listening to the sound of your silky french accent. Though Spencer couldn’t speak French he understood the language, having studied it in his spare time at college. He would try to say certain phrases and though most were pronounced correctly he messed up on occasion and you wouldn’t end the teasing. With each book club meeting you would grow closer and Spence’s feelings would get stronger, though you were oblivious to that. You had always found Spencer nice to look at and his brain was prettier than the stars on a clear night sky. You just assumed you two would only ever be friends since Prentiss told you about Maeve. 

Rien autour n'a de sens

Et l'air est lourd

Le regard absent

Il est seul et lui parle souvent

Il, il n'est pas fou

Il l'aime c'est tout

You could only keep a rational head about the boy genius for so long. Only 3 months after meeting you began to feel it. It was this sinking feeling that made you smile more when he was around. You found yourself imagining him whenever you listened to music or read a book. But rationality eventually came back and you would banish the idea from your mind. Which is why when he came to your house one rainy night you were evidently shocked. 

“Spence?” You looked at his dripping curly hair and how his shirt stuck to his chest tightly from the water. 

He looked at you with those big doe eyes of his and swallowed hard. It looked like he had been crying but you couldn’t say for sure. He didn’t reply to you which worried you further, causing you to pull him inside rather quickly. You grabbed him a towel and put on some tea, making him his favorite, earl grey. You got back with the tea, tucking a leg under yourself as you sat by him. He took the tea from you and held it, not looking at you for a while. Eventually you needed to know he was ok and set your tea down. Your fingers gently touched his cheek, leading him to look at you. ��Spence, what’s wrong?” You spoke with genuine concern, your brows laced together with worry.

Though he didn’t respond, he just looked at you. He refused to break eye contact but out of your peripheral you saw him set his cup down. Then he began to scoot closer, your hand still rested on his cheek as you began to ask again.

“Spencer, really whats-” But you were harshly cut off by the feeling of his lips pressed against your own. Your eyes widened but within a few moments you melted into the softness of his lips. His arms quickly snaked around your waist as he pulled you closer. Your other hand came to his other cheek, holding his face close to yours. Soon enough the two of you had to pull apart. “Y/N…” He started.

You shook your head, “I know, me too.” He smiled at your words before leaning in and kissing you again, though that wasn’t the last kiss of that night.

Il la voit partout

Il l'attend debout

Debout une rose à la main

Non, non plus rien ne le retient

Dans sa love story

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid season 9 #dr spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #love story indila

[milksuu]

Coffee & Unicorn Tears

Pairings: Tyler Galpin x fem!reader

Content/Warnings: None

Contains: Fluff & Magic

Summary: A certain barista burns his hand, and you're there to mend it.

a/n: I just started this series and I'm in love! I'm wondering if I should write a second part?

“I’ll take that one, please.”

Beneath a round glass display, your small finger pointed to a cookie with a shape unlike any other in the assortment. It wasn't the usual round baked treat, with chocolate pieces or walnuts. This one was different, this one was special. Shaped like a hoofed fairytale creature, it was decorated in edible paint; with a white chocolate base, and sugar crystals sprinkled to top it. 

The boy behind the counter followed the length of your finger. His lips quirked in a peculiar way, as if finding amusement in your choice.

“You mean, our unicorn cookie special?” 

Your cheeks grew warm, despite the autumn months. You felt his gaze travel your features, from the tip of your chin, past your lips and nose, to rest at the peak of your forehead. You brushed at your bangs, hoping to veil the ornate piece protruding from your head. No matter how clever you thought you were, nothing you did was ever good enough to hide the eye-sore of a horn. 

“Nevermore, I’m guessing.” He started, handing you the baked good. "Tyler, by the way."

"I'm Y/N," you nodded meekly.

“Funny. You don’t look like the rest of ‘em.”

You dipped your chin, fiddling with your fingers and thumbs. “That’s because I’m the last of my kind.”

“Sounds…rough,” he tried to phrase it delicately. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to bring up an uncomfortable topic.”

“That’s alright. You wouldn’t be the first,” you said, presenting a sweet smile. “If it’s not too much trouble, could I also have a medium latte?”

He gave a curled pinch to his lips, ringing up the order. Attending the coffee machine, there was a hissing noise and a bursting plume of frothed steam. A yelp of pain cursed the air. Your eyes blinked over the scene, watching as he waved a blistered hand in the air. 

“You’re hurt,” you gasped.

“Yeah, well, it happens a lot. Shit—that stings.” He sucked on his teeth. “Just need to run it under cold water for a bit.”

“Let me help you.” You urged, pressing forward over the counter. “Although, I-I can't use my magic in front of a cafe full of people.”

You could tell he wanted to deny you, however, the earnest of your sentiments seemed to persuade his ego enough. With a defeated sigh, he paced along the counter, urging you to follow. You did, passing a door into the back of the shop. Entering the stock room, you were surrounded by rows of wooden racks, each filled with bags of coffee. The smell of dark roast wafted from floor to ceiling. Finding a suitable spot, he leaned against a shelf.

You drew close, but kept your eyes on the fabric of his apron. “Can I?”

“Um, sure,” he said with a shrug. “Do what you need to do.”

Taking his wounded hand in yours, you raised it to your flushed face. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to succumb to a world of heartfelt just behind them. Conjuring the beat and squeeze of your chest, sparkling tears surfaced at the rims of your lashes. Like fine pearls, they gilded down the roundness of your cheeks. He winced, feeling the iridescent drops splash against his bubbling skin. Beneath his gaze, the skin began to smooth over, washing away the sting of redness that once pervaded.

He felt his mouth dry, staring in disbelief. “That’s kind of amazing.”

“Unicorn tears have special healing properties,” you sniffled, wiping away the dense syrup clinging to your blushing cheeks. “I don't like to use it much. It’s so embarrassing to cry in front of others.”

“I can't blame you for feeling that way,” Tyler paused, thinking of more to say. “How did you make yourself cry on command?”

“Strong emotions,” you replied with a steady breath. “Sad or happy, it doesn’t matter.”

“Then, what about now? What kind of emotion were you feeling?”

“Happiness.” You pressed the bagged treat to your chest. “Today, you’ve given me something better than sweets—a feeling as if, maybe, I’m not the last of anything.”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Really? Over a cookie?”

“I’m easy to please,” you returned with a giggle.

#tyler galpin x reader #tyler galpin x you #wednesday x reader #wednesday netflix #wednesday fanfic

[astriiformes]

Hi! We're preparing for our seder this weekend and are feeling weird about the "next year in Jerusalem" part - any chance you have thoughts or advice to share? Thanks!

Ah, yeah, I think that's the bit that a lot of folks are struggling with this year. You're certainly not alone in feeling weird.

I've personally found it possible to reframe it in my head as a call for peace "Next year in Jerusalem" -- for everyone who lives there. Especially as someone who would love to visit the city someday but would never do so under the current government, my longing for a Jerusalem I actually want to visit is real, and the traditional phrase feels like it has room to express that, too.

At the seder I attended last night, we explicitly replaced it with a call for peace in Palestine, which is one of the other directions you can take it -- though I will admit if I was designing a haggadah of my own (we were largely following the one put together by Families for Ceasefire Philly, with a few additions of our own & from a more traditional haggadah at certain points) I might try to find a way to align the traditional words with current intentions, just because I find that connection between past and present (and future) a particularly powerful part of Judaism. But a part of that is also a flexibility and willingness to answer the challenges of the times we find ourselves in, and I think it's still in the spirit of a seder to replace it with something that feels more fitting.

That said, there are absolutely ways to center collective liberation and calls for peace throughout a seder, and I think the tone you set through the ritual will carry over into those final words. Whether you change them or not, the discussions you have over the table and the parallels you make between the Passover story and the suffering currently happening in the world are a powerful way to be in community with other Jews who are spending the holiday affirming our commitment to calling for a ceasefire--and who have fought for similar things in the past. You can say the traditional words and think about all the Jews who have recited them throughout history and also fought for a better world, or you can change them and think about the fact that you are not alone in your discomfort.

I hope some of that helps guide your thinking. There's certainly no one right answer to this (it's complicated, and that wouldn't be very Jewish anyways) but I hope you find a solution that makes your seder important and meaningful to you all the same.

Chag pesach sameach & Gut yontiff

[afreakingdork]

Weak Spot - Chapter 4

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia

Synopsis:  When falling in love is the easy part where does the difficulty lie? In a society where we’re defined by our job, it’s those little details as a relationship goes on that ends up setting a course for whether or not a couple can make it in the long run

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

As a cherry on top of an otherwise roller coaster meeting, Donatello hit you with a one-two punch before departing. The first being that he had a change in schedule that required his attendance that weekend. It meant he would not be able to continue his sandwich escapade until Monday. The second was that in accordance with this change he would lighten the restrictions on texting.

On one hand, it meant that your fourth meeting would again coincide with work; something that you were hoping to avoid. As you made your way back to your building, you were plotting any number of ways you could avoid your boss’s attention. Risking a tongue lashing was worth it for Donatello, but that didn’t mean you’d walk into the scenario willingly.

Alternatively, you now had free reign to bother the object of your affection as much as you wanted; within reason, at least. He’d been quick to add that he preferred substantial conversation be made in person and you got that sense that he was testing you again. The weekend now felt like a trial run on whether or not you could keep your new privileges and somehow, even though it felt acutely childish, it also struck you as a fun gambit. Hopping up the steps to your high-rise, you yanked on a door with twirling force.

-

 You: and they only told me to that I needed to pick-up the coffee when I was already standing in front of the building!

Donatello: A pathetic mismanagement of time and resources.

Kicking your legs hard enough to make your office chair rock back and forth, you put your phone back down on your desk. Against all odds, Donatello had been a relatively attentive texting partner though you had taken great care in crafting your messages. You’d given him a reprieve until Saturday and then opened mid morning with brunch conversation. He found the conventions of which overblown and you’d used that as a jumping off point. It was curious that his responses came at a surprising pace considering he had plans, but you weren’t about to point that out. He’d been pretty clear about what he’d divulge and even if you were curious, it was still early enough in whatever this was that it wasn’t about to be an issue.

You straightened.

Had he just called you a resource?

Bouncing on the idea, your chair squeaked as you went for your phone again. It was just begging to be addressed.

“So, that’s it…”

Stalling and instinctively shoving your phone under a folder, you darted up to see a co-worker hanging off the wall of your cubicle.

You gave the man a soured glance and pulled your phone back out. You weren’t on ‘go to lunch with’ sort of terms with this employee, but you’d built up an ‘office gossip’ sort of rapport. “Happy Monday to you too.”

“Who’s the beau?” He took a sip of his water bottle.

You sunk down until your chest was almost touching your desk. “That obvious?”

“Only if we add in those late lunches…?” He trailed off with a smarmy grin that said you had to respond even though he already knew the answer.

Finally collapsing down, you held your phone outstretched and activated it out of habit. “Fine, yes. I met someone on my lunch break.”

“Is he hot?” Your co-worker pulled his arm free from the metal frame to enter your space.

“Yes, but I don’t have any pictures yet.”

“Too bad.” The man nearly sang the phrase.

You hummed in agreement when his introductory phrase came to mind. “What did you mean earlier?”

“The boss wants to see you.”

You shot up so fast the papers on your desk flittered away from the movement.

Your co-worker smirked into another sip.

“You didn’t think to, I don’t know, open with that?!”

“I had to find out why. Thankfully it was written all over your face.”

You glowered at him as your quickly snatched up any necessary paperwork. “Big help.”

“Anytime.”

“So, that’s just it? He’s mad about the lunches?” Making sure to lock up your bag with the phone inside in case someone got any bright ideas, you rounded your desk to stare the man down.

“He didn’t seem mad actually.”

You squinted.

“Maybe a little mad.”

You folded your arms.

“Look.” The man finally relented by bringing his bottle up. “He just laid into me for filling up my water too often and then asked me to grab you next. It’s going to be one of those days. Everyone’s going to get their ass chewed out.”    

“Was that so hard?” You huffed, exiting your cubicle with him in tow.

“It was less fun!”

With a flick of your wrist you banished your co-worker as you took a sharp corner. Your boss had a windowed office down the hall and you headed towards it. The blinds inside were pulled shut which was never a good sign. He was the kind of man that liked to keep them open for peak vigilance. Already dreading the exchange, you marched up to the door and rapped your knuckles on the glass. From inside there was a muffled affirmation.

Opening the door revealed your boss at his desk with his elbows craned to the tabletop. From there his fingers were thread which obscured his mouth from view.

Either he watched one too many anime in his day or he really was just that cartoonishly evil.

“Y/N.”

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

It was playing out the lines of a surreal office drama.

“18, 27, 36.”

You stared at him blankly.

He stood, his thin gaze focused solely on your face.

“Some type of lotto numbers?” You knew that wasn’t the answer, but you needed something to break the silence.

“That’s over an hour of time.”

You gave a tight nod and tried to keep your mouth in a similarly taunt line.

Your boss sighed and one of his arms fell over. You watched as he groaned into standing until both palms were flat on his desk and he was hovering over it. “How long are you going to play dumb?”

Any answer would be used against you so you pleaded the fifth.

“The lunches!” Your boss roared and slammed one of his hands down for an echoing thud. “All last week you took longer and longer lunches.”

It was only Wednesday on, but interjecting that fact now wouldn’t help your case.

“Did you think no one would notice? Your co-workers certainly did! Imagine them coming to me when they can’t seem to find you?”

He was lying through his teeth. Barely a soul in this company bothered to communicate without an email’s read receipt.

“How am I supposed to get anything done like that? While you’re gallivanting off, who knows where, on company time!”

“I’m sorry, sir-”

“Sorry, huh?” He clipped your apology with a sneer. “Not sorry enough to inform anyone of your absence or offer to make up for the lost time!” He snapped upright in a rigid fashion, but then his spine seemed to loll as if it were made of jelly. “So, you admit that you thought you’d just get away with it? That you deserved special privileges that none of your fellow associates have? That I would surely be too busy to notice? That your time is worth far more than anyone else’s?”

A hundred defenses sat on your lips, but you crushed them by squeezing them together until it stung your jaw.

“At least you know enough when you keep quiet.”

You loathed this bastard.

“That means you’re not a lost cause.” His shoulders heaved forward as he rounded the desk. “You’ll make up the 81 minutes with your lunch break today.”

You had meant to stay neutral. Even the slightest move would act against you, but at the command your shoulders seized up in fear.

Donatello in his black coat flashed in your mind’s eye.

“Oh, sorry.” On that springy spine, your boss bounded forward to catch a bottom up look at your face. “Am I interrupting something or do you actually want to keep your job?”

One of your eye lids twitched and you hoped from his awkward angle that he hadn’t picked it up. The exaggerated candor of his voice grated on your ears in a way that made you sick to your stomach.

“You’ll take your lunch, of course. State laws and all, but you’ll have to move your plans. Oh, wait…”

Since his gaze was still trained on your face, you flexed your fingers before knuckling them white.

“No need to bother heading back to your desk! Did I mention it’s already prepared for you?” He rolled back, leaning a little too far. “That’s just how considerate I am! Even when an employee doesn’t return that same sort of thing!”

You watched him your jaw so tight it was near spasming. 

He walked the few feet over to the cord in the corner of his office and pulled swiftly. It opened up the blinds to a view of the office. Several employees nervously glanced at the move out of their periphery wanting to see who’s head was on the chopping block, but not wanting to bring attention to themselves to be next.

“See that copier.” He pointed and you moved your body stiffly. Said machine had a multiple daunting stacks of paper shoved onto the desk beside it along with multiple repurposed postal crates below.

“Yes.”

“You’ll need to scan all that and file it accordingly.”

They had a kid for this. A grunt hired on part-time for this kind of menial task.

“Oh, and do remember to remove and re-staple each document after scanning! Don’t want to jam the poor thing up!”

Hard copies weren’t even kept. Shredding was something else the part-timer did.

“When you’re done, you can take your lunch. I’ll even adjust it so you can still go home on time. Quite gracious of me, don’t you think?”

You’d quit right on the spot if you had anything else lined up.

Returning to food service never looked so good.

“What was that?” Your boss mimed putting a hand to his ear.

“Yes, sir. Thank you.” You could only manage the barest of nods and he seemed to relish in your silent fury.

“Call Bernie over next on your way out.” There was the sharp noise of the blinds closing again and you turned for the door. You heard your boss retreat and assumed he was falling back into the asinine posing he’d concocted. Crossing the space to the copier, you caught the next victim’s eye and signaled to him that his time had come. The man scurried away and you seethed into the first page. Picking it up found dozen of documents in the first stack with only a couple of pages stapled together in each set. Anger depleted at the futility of it all. You couldn’t even sneak away to tell Donatello you’d be late.

You really hated your boss.

-

Belting down the sidewalk, you narrowly miss several pedestrians as you ran towards the sandwich shop. The scanning hadn’t taken as long as you thought, but you were still almost two hours late. Donatello hadn’t even sent you a questioning text.

Did he think you’d ditched him?

Had he simply left?

There was no way anyone sensible would still be waiting.

Still, you ran.

Closing in on the shop’s door at an alarming pace, you threw on the brakes in a manner that had your heels grinding against the concrete. Stopping shy of the door, you didn’t see his large figure inside, but this shop had some rustic décor that would have been easy to conceal him. In the barest form of your reflection, you attempted to smooth you the jog’s ruffling before grabbing the door handle. You gave a sharp tug that it protested before you realized it was a push door.

Choosing to believe you were burning from the exertion and not embarrassment, you shoved the large wooden thing. It heaved open and you took several hurried steps inside before it gave you enough vantage to view the space.

Your heart sank.

He wasn’t there.

Your shoulders gave out and your arms dangled pathetically. With weak limbs you procured your phone to find your messages in the same state as when you had run out of your building. Bitterly you guessed that your boss would at least be satisfied to find there was no chance you’d be late again. Sighing, you hovered a thumb over a text window to type a message. You got out exactly four letters when a sharp stream of cold air blew against your neck and down your collar.

You yelped at the sensation; goosebumps cropping up on your arm. Several patrons looked towards you and you slapped a hand to the back of your neck. Spinning around, you stared up, scandalized, as Donatello watched you with the corner of his mouth quirked.

Damn him and his love of scaring people.

“What are you still doing here?!” You hissed, still rubbing your neck.

He straightened up and gave the barest shrug. “Taking a late lunch.”

Your hand fell away as you stared at him. He evaluated you flatly in return.

He’d waited.

All that time.

A few clucking chuckles petered out of you before you started laughing. One of his brows raised at the action and you had to put a hand to your stomach to keep from doubling over.

“A-Ah, sorry!” You waved at him, trying to reign yourself in.

He continued to watch.

“I just imagined you, waiting behind the door all that time!”

You could sense the way he soured though his face were clean of any unsavioriness.  

“Thank you.” You came out of your fit with your eyes shining and beamed him a smile.

He took it in and brushed past you.

Rapidly becoming accustomed to the song and dance, you chased after him without hesitation.

He got to the counter before you could properly catch his side so you waited as he placed the order. You watched his interaction and remembered how he’d mentioned this place’s archaic ordering system. From the look of the shop it seemed more probable that they forwent online ordering to preserve the ambiance. He paid again and you cursed yourself for getting caught up in errant thoughts.

“That puts me three behind.” You griped as he lead the charge to the table.

“A scoreboard that only you will be keeping track of.” He tucked himself into a chair and regarded you languidly.

“You have to care some. It’ll get annoying if only you pay!” Taking your own seat, you looked at him with set features.

His flat gaze said it wasn’t worth his time.

You sighed.

“I’m more interested in what kept you.”

Coming off the puff of air, you looked away. It might be another thing only you were keeping tally of, but your boss had already been giving way too much air time. From texts to capping off nearly every meeting, you hated the thought of giving that guy one more second.

“I had… work to catch up on.” It was the kind of sentence you only decided on about halfway through. It meant it would either sound unconvincing or exhausted. Checking back with your companion found him staring with what felt like a higher intensity.

Or it could have been the guilt talking.

“You know, from being late?” You offered, turning towards him in hopes the move would read more open.

For the first time his stoic gaze felt suffocating.

You drowned under the weight of it until he shifted his position.

“What about you?”

“You already thanked me.” He reached into his coat and you watched curiously.

“I mean… Yeah, I did, but that doesn’t mean I’m not still curious. You waited all that time and didn’t send a message? How long would you have waited if I hadn’t shown up when I did.”

He pulled out something you couldn’t quite see and removed his glasses. You stared, taking in his relatively unmarred face greedily as he seemingly adjusted them. You wondered if he ever went out without the bandana before he donned his frames again. Adjusting through the colored lenses, his attention drifted towards the kitchen.

“Donatello.” You gave a scolding note to your voice.

Had he done all that in an attempt to throw you off his scent?

It had almost worked, but that wasn’t the point.

His eyes returned to the table, but avoided yours in a way that brought your brows up. Whatever he wasn’t saying was something he really wanted to avoid. It made you all the more curious.

“I don’t…” He started and his lips curled slightly showing his distaste in the peek of a canine. “Like to speak in uncertainties.”

You straightened as the statement absorbed into your person.

He didn’t know.

Your stomach flipped.

He didn’t know how long he would have waited for you.

He had done many things at this point that did it for you, but something about this one in particular warmed your cheeks. You brought up a hand in an attempt to cool them when you caught a glimpse of a waitress walking over. She had thankfully come with your meals and you bobbed an embarrassed nod at her in appreciation. She took it with a knowing giggle and scurried away so as not to interrupt further.

“I like you.” The phrase jumped off your lips and you moved to close them off with a bite of your sandwich.

“You’ve made that abundantly clear.” There was an amused air to his voice.

“Seriously though…” The rhythm of chewing had an oddly soothing effect. “I’m gonna have to haul ass back to work after this. I can’t be late again.”

From where he was about to take his first bite, Donatello halted and looked straight at you.

It was only then that it dawned on you that you might have negated your earlier boss dodging comment.

“You got in trouble.”

His careful eye was a blessing and a curse.

“I… was hoping not to get into it.” You tucked your gaze into your bread.

“For my sake or yours?”

Within a blink, your eyes widened. “What?”

He gave his usual silence.

“No.” You finally looked at him. “I’m not expecting you to repeat yourself, I actually don’t know what you mean.”

He seemed to take in two things at once.

You realized you had yet to verbally confirm you’d deciphered that bit of his speaking mannerisms.

You’d been hoping to keep that one closer for a little longer, but it was bound to come out sooner or later.

“You’re one to speak your mind, but you also pay far too much attention to me.”

He’d seen right through you.

 “I could be trying harder to get another job…” The muscles in your shoulders bunched up.

His eyes shot downward and then right back to you.

You wilted under it, but he didn’t follow it up with anything else. Unsure yourself, you moved back to your sandwich. He didn’t resume eating and his intense gaze continued to bore into you.

“I’d love to, but unfortunately I can’t read your mind.” You finally forced out when you couldn’t take the atmosphere any longer. 

He continued the stifling leer for several more seconds before he broke it. He turned his head fully away and then spoke only out of the corner of his mouth. “If it’s upsetting you, then feel free to talk about it.”

Your features softened. “It won’t bother you?”

He huffed. “That is the exact sort of response I was hoping to avoid.”

Whatever gooeyness coating your features translated to your innards feeling similarly like mush.

He certainly didn’t want to answer your question because he would out how kind he was being.

Overwhelmed by the feeling, you gently kicked his leg from beneath the table.

While he didn’t exactly look offended, he seemed it. In retaliation and in spite of the table’s protest, he folded his legs away from you.

“Eat. You’re wasting time playing footsie.”

Giggling down at your meal, there was a sobering quality to your sandwich. There was something else to this meal you’d almost forgotten. As you picked it up, the heft of it being the last one weighed heavily in your hands. You took a small bite, but the time constraints meant you couldn’t make it last. “I had to do a bunch of busy work to make up for the cumulative hours I’ve missed.”

Across from you Donnie finally began to eat.

“It’s stupid because we literally have an employee for that. I’m sure it was some stupid pseudo-example of office power dynamic garbage.”

You scarfed down several bites in annoyance.

“There wasn’t even a threat of being late again! I just don’t want to give him any more fodder to complain!”

Your sandwich was slowly disappearing.

“Not… that it matters after this…”

The feeling you’d been trying to chase away with your latent angry reared its head.

You hadn’t made those additional plans.

“Does your company participate in those lax days?”

“Lax like casual Friday?”

He gave a nod.

“Not really, though everyone has a TGIF sense and less work definitely gets done at the end of the week.”

You took another bite and something about the conversation jogged your memory. When you brought your attention back to Donatello, he seemed to be waiting with a knowing look.

“If it’s on Friday when everyone else is loose with lunch hours than he can’t whine!”

“As long as that’s the case.”

“But… this is the last shop.”

“There are others.”

“No, you were very clear about there being four.”

He gave you his patented look.

You gave a coy one of your own and he deferred against it having not realized you were messing with him. You wanted to relish in his embarrassment, but there was simply no time. “Won’t that interrupt your sandwich study?”

“There was no exact time frame.”

You smiled.

“Finish.”

It was a reminder so you dove back into your sandwich. Polishing the last bite off, you looked up at him curiously and he nodded in a way that meant you’d cleared the ticking threshold. You noticed he hadn’t finished his meal and he simply wrapped it back up in response.

“Did this shop…?” You turned, ready to pounce on more staff.

“No, since I missed my usual consumption window, I’m not as hungry. Otherwise, they were a decent showing.”

“I wish my body worked like that.”

He gave a tepid shrug and you both packed up to leave.

“Ugh, I don’t want to go back yet! We’ve barely spoken!” You gave a dramatic flourish and jumped ahead a few steps. He watched on dully as you turned and held out a longing hand to him.

He allowed you to hold the pose for several beats before making a large sidestep to open the door. Your laughter chased after him.

“Dinner typically takes longer.”

You only heard the comment as you passed by him to head outside. You double took so quickly you almost reentered the restaurant.

“Are…” You held your breath. “You have to clarify if you’re asking me out.”

He stepped closer as he let the door close and you hadn’t quite moved away. Before you could give him his space, he crowded yours in a manner that brought his face right up to yours. “Thursday, go on a date with me. I’ll make a reservation.”

From where you were holding your breath, you were surely suffocating as your forgot how to take in anymore.

He was so close.

The way he’d said it.

You wanted to ascend.

“You have to confirm if you want it to happen.”

“Yes!” You watched, up close, as he winced when it came out a little too loudly. “Yes, yes, a million times yes!”

“I’m regretting my decision already.”

“I’ll see you Thursday… wait and then lunch on Friday?!”

He straightened up and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

Remembering this probably fell into the repetition category, you adjusted yourself and gave him your best molten stare in gratitude. “I’ll be waiting for the details.”

He gave a nod that seemed tight for a different reason and departed.

You resisted the urge to click your heels as you headed the opposite way.

NEXT

#rottmnt #rottmnt donnie x reader #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt x reader #donatello hamato #donnie x reader #rise donnie #rise donnie x reader #rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #me #fanfiction #my fanfiction #weakspotfic

[lake-archive]

Fake Date... Right?

AO3 Link - A Shared Love Between Our Posse (Masterlist)

Fandom: Hypnosis Mic

Characters: Gentaro Yumeno, Ann Wolff (OC)

Pairing: Genann (Gentaro/Ann) (Developing)

Synposis: Gentaro is stuck at a chapter for his book… Maybe he shouldn't have picked a dating scene. But luckily he knows who to ask for help.

Words: 1,519

“H… Hey… Do I have to stay so close?”

“This is a date, isn’t it?”

“W… Well… Yes but… Walking through the crowd like this…”

“Don’t worry my dear, I’m right here. You won’t get lost in this crowd~”

“Hah!? Th… That’s not what I mean! It’s just… A pretend date… So–”

“And we must be authentic at all times. We shall be lovey–dovey and make those spotting us turn their heads away in disgust because of this unbearable sweetness~”

“Wait what!? I think that—”

“Haha, calm down Ann. Part of that is a lie.”

Their reaction was always something else to behold. Even now Gentaro could not hold himself back. He just had to open his mouth and get them all flustered, despite him having requested them to help him out for a little while. It could have been just for the day but it also could have been for the entire week. Surely, no feelings were involved whatsoever. It is not a situation he indulged in for selfish reasons, oh heavens no! This was merely to simulate the experience of a young couple going on a date, nothing else.

But was it a lie? Surprisingly, not completely. Parts of it were true and it was a genuine favor he had asked of them, asked of Ann. 

In one of the chapters he had made it that two of the characters were attending a date yet he had been sitting on this chapter way too long. He just wasn’t sure how to properly convey the feelings and thoughts when going on a date. What did it feel like? What would be done on a date? Most would consider it embarrassing to admit yet this author had little to no experience in this field. Honestly though, he didn’t mind being inexperienced. He had never had the urge before… Well, until recently. And yet, even then, this was not something he acted upon. It didn’t sit right with him, at least not in a time like this. That or he felt as if he needed an excuse in all honesty. Maybe it was that, maybe it was not. Regardless, this would not change any facts at hand.  Let alone the request he had asked of them earlier in person. 

“ Huh? Wait… You want to go on a… Date!? ” Ann had asked him, their eyes wide and their cheeks all red. So red that he had to hold his hands back to not reach out for them and pinch them right then and there. “ G… Gentaro… That’s sudden! I… don’t think— ”

“Please, calm down. It’s just for research. ” He had excused, interrupting them in the middle of their panic. 

“ For research? ”

“ Yes. After all, don’t write what you don’t know. ”

“ W… Well, some people do say that but— ”

“ As a fellow writer I’m sure that you understand my peril. ” 

“ I mean, yeah bu— ”

“No buts. I cannot ask anyone else. ” What a lie. He didn’t want to ask anyone else. “ You have experience thanks to Ramuda and Dice, don’t you? So please, educate me a little when it comes to going on dates. ”

And that was how the two got themselves into this situation. It was why they had to hold onto one of his arms very tightly, almost hugging it, while walking down the streets together, heading to a place together for an activity, to be all by themselves. After all, the essential  of a date was to bond, thus spending time alone was important. Was it not? 

And yet, when taking a gaze right down at them he could see their flustered expression, as if they were unable to look into his eyes, unable to face him for good. “Did you have to phrase it like that?” They asked of him, mumbling almost with utmost embarrassment. It only made him have a light smile on his face, finding this ever so amusing. 

“I did not. But I wanted to.” He said. 

“W… Wanted to? … I forgot who I was talking to, sorry.”

“Aww, you wound me dear.”

“You don’t have to use pet names you know!”

“Does it make you uncomfortable if I do?” A question which came a little late, he had to admit, yet he was concerned all the same. Maybe he had finally overstepped some boundaries. And if that was the case— 

“Tha— … As long as it isn’t something like ‘Princess’...”

“I will take note of that. But please, tell me if I overstep your boundaries.” He commented, making them turn back to him for a moment, staring with a mix of relief yet also surprise. “We may act like a couple now, but don’t be afraid to tell me if it’s too much. I’m just acting as I’ve read.”

“Read? What do you mean by read?” They asked, from one moment to the next just confused. 

“Well… I did some research beforehand. Primarily guides for dates and how to—”

“You’re seriously believing stuff like that?” They interrupted, sounding surprisingly cold about this. No, really, for a quick moment their eyes had just gone completely blank and staring, as if already saying ‘ Not impressed ’. This was followed up with a quick sigh before continuing. “Throw that outta the window, will you? There’s no need for stuff like that whatsoever.”

“There… Is not?” It surprised Gentaro, really. He usually would not want to look into guides like these either yet he had no choice, having zero experience in the field of romance. It was not his forte and until recently he had not even a clue how it felt to desire a person in a way more than a friend, let alone a family member. It had just not interested him. He knew it was a bad idea for his novel to experiment around with such emotions yet he had the desire to try something new… It was still hard to bring these feelings down to the paper however, let alone the behavior. He really didn’t know where to start and thus guides were begrudgingly his best point of reference. 

“No, not really. I thought it was obvious.” They responded with the utmost certainty. No, they were confident in this, very even, judging from their face. “If you gotta be a fake–self or something, it’s not worth it.”

“I… Wasn’t saying that—”

“I know, you weren’t going that far now. But listen, don’t think too hard about it. Just be yourself.”

Be himself… “A generic advice to use in several situations.”

“Yeah, I admit. It’s… A little overdone.” Ann agreed at the very least. “But there’s truth to it I suppose. After all, assuming a role makes moments like these rather shallow.” Though the last part… They had said it a little more quietly while suddenly grabbing tighter onto his arm, shoving their own body a little closer. A gesture he couldn’t really put a reasoning behind. They just… Did. It felt very sudden. And yet, it was more than obvious that they had been more than serious about this. They even bit their lower lip before shaking their head several times, then making their gaze meet his again, more relaxed than before. “What I’m saying is that you don’t really have to worry about stuff like that. Just be like you always are. We know each other for a while now after all, don’t we?”

On one hand he didn’t want to hear it. Wouldn’t that blur the line between fake and reality? He wouldn’t be able to tell this apart. it was not meant to be a real date, far from it. It was supposed to be nothing but pretend… A fake date. That was the plan. 

But on the other, hearing them say all of that… He felt relieved yet again. Maybe a part of him didn’t want to pretend. Maybe a part of him was begging for this to be real… No, of course he would have the desire to turn this into more. He was just holding himself back here, wanting this to be mere research for his novel. And yet, he would not get something like that. Having the line blurred like that… Hah, was this really a fake date? Or was this just some wishful thinking? 

“Alright, message received. I will just be myself… If you think you can handle that.”

“O… Of course I can! I’m keeping up with you until now, aren’t I?”

“Fair argument… My dear ~” Of course it slipped his tongue. He couldn’t resist… Anything to keep them on their toes. 

And it sure had them startled, their body becoming all tense again from hearing a nickname yet again. “Ah— You’re still at that!?”

“This is a date regardless. So get used to it darling~”

“Wh… Why you…”

And even with all of that said they were still holding onto his arm, clutching onto it as the duo was walking down the streets. Did they notice? Maybe, maybe not. But he dared to not point it out.

Fake or not, he may as well enjoy a small taste he had right then and there. 

#Nimue's Lake #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #selfship fanfiction #self ship fanfic #selfship fic #selfship community #self ship community #hypmic oc #hypnosis mic oc #self ship fanfiction #gentaro yumeno #yumeno gentaro #hypmic gentaro #oc x canon #hypnosis mic #hypmic #hypnosis microphone #s/i x f/o #Sweet Words #Genann

[justdonotaskmewhy]

The Crown fact-checked. Part 1/60

Before we begin I have to say a few words:

I understand that The Crown is a work of fiction and my goal is not to say "It's all lies!", we know it is full of stuff that has never happened, I just want to "do my own research" and see which facts were changed

I will try to be as unbiased as I possibly can. I can't promise you will like my stuff or agree with me, but my thoughts are just my thoughts, you can always decide for yourself

This being said, let's start our journey

Season 1. Episode 1. Wolferton Splash

King George's VI illness

The Crown's opening scene is that of the king spitting blood and coughing heavily. This theme of illness is recurring for the rest of the episode.

King George VI was a heavy smoker. The cigarettes were rather cheap after war and it is no wonder he developed such an unhealthy habit. Note: i phrased it badly but he started smoking much earlier than after the war ended, the cigarettes were just cheaper so it was even easier for him to get access to smoking.

Due to his smoking he had a lung cancer and coronary artery disease. Both of his illnesses appeared in the series.

2. Prince Philip renounces his royal titles

The series is true to the reality here. On the eve of his wedding to princess Elizabeth Prince Philip renounced his "foreign titles" of Greece and Denmark and was styled as "His Royal Highness, Prince Philip, the Duke of Edinburgh,  Earl of Merioneth, and Baron Greenwich of Greenwich in the County of London"

3. King stutters

It is no surprise to anyone who has ever watched "The King's Speech". King George stuttered ever since he was a child and attended speech therapy to get rid of it. He almost get rid of it and it is hard to notice it in his public speeches. You can listen to this if you're interested, the real speech King George VI delivered on September 3rd, 1939 addressing Britain's involvement in World War II.

4. Prince Philip gave up smoking because princess Elizabeth couldn't stand it

As any loving daughter would be, princess Elizabeth was preoccupied by her father's health. Seeing that smoking did not do him any good, she insisted prince Philip should give up the habit. He did and some sources state he didn't smoke once after his wedding day.

5. Limericks

As fun as it may sound the king was fond of dirty limericks. However The Crown faced a controversy as the king says the word "cunt" in the opening episode.

The full limerick is as follows:

There was an old Countess of Bray,

And you might think it odd when I say,

That despite her high station, rank and education.

She always spelled "Cunt" with a K!

6. Princess Margaret at princess Elizabeth's wedding

Princess Margaret was one of princess Elizabeth's bridesmaids. However she was shorter than her sister (Elizabeth was 163 cm tall, Princess Margaret was 155 cm).

7. Winston Churchill at princess Elizabeth's wedding. I Vow To Thee My Country

He and his wife attended the wedding and, in fact, caused a "false alarm" of applause by their arrival as everyone thought it was the princess who was cheered with such an enthusiasm.

However I Vow To Thee My Country apparently never played upon his arrival. But This song is indeed regarded as synonymous with Churchill, and it played at his funeral.

8. Hatred towards Mountbattens

Lord Louis Mountbatten was the last Viceroy of British India. In 1947 the partition of Pakistan was inevitable but it resulted in a blood bath. Million was killed, 15 millions were displaced.

Churchill was unsatisfied with Mountbatten's hurry to operate the situation and called it "a shameful flight" which was shown in The Crown.

9. Peter Townsend

Group Captain Peter Townsend was an equerry to King George VI. He indeed had an affair with Princess Margaret, the king's youngest daughter.

A gross fact but may I remind you: he was 33 and she was 17 in 1947 when their romance presumably began. We will discuss it further in later posts.

10. Nazis and the British Royal family

The British Royal family is notorious for its connections to nazis. We are not going to talk about Edward and Wallace (because we will talk about them later), but Prince Philip had four sisters, all of whom married members of the German aristocracy—three of those men became Nazis. One sister, Princess Theodora married Berthold, Margrave of Baden; they tried to keep their distance from Nazism.

His eldest sister, Princess Margarita, married Gottfried, the 8th Prince of Hohenlohe-Langenburg—a German aristocrat who joined the Nazi party and served in World War II. He was involved in Operation Valkyrie, the plot to assassinate Hitler in 1944. 

Princess Cecilie, another sister, married German aristocrat Georg Donatus, Hereditary Grand Duke of Hesse. They joined the Nazis in May 1937, but died in a plane crash months later. At her funeral, Prince Philip marched with their relatives who wore Nazi uniforms.

His youngest sister, Princess Sophie, married Prince Christoph of Hesse, an Oberführer in the Nazi Party and a director in the Third Reich's Ministry of Air Forces. Sophie said in her memoir of Hitler, "I have to say here, that, although Chri [Prince Chrisoph] and I changed our political view fundamentally some years later, we were impressed by this charming and seemingly modest man, and by his plans to change and improve the situation in Germany."

It is worth mentioning that Philip served Britain during World War II and did not himself support the nazi regime.

11. The royal family was against princess Elizabeth's marriage to Philip

It indeed happened but for an unexpected reason. Royal courtiers said that prince Philip "was too funny and had too many gaffes".

12. Lilibet

Lilibet was a nickname for princess Elizabeth. It is said that it was given by Princess Margaret who couldn't pronounce "Elizabeth" at a young age. Now it is prince Harry's daughter name, what a sweet continuity.

i stand corrected: according to this source its origin can be different. Elizabeth used to call herself Lilibet when she was a toddler.

13. Waving

Royalty way much slower than everyone else. This waving is easy to recognise, you've seen it multiple times. It is supposed that this particular style is safer for articulations, and this can be one of the reasons they wave like they do.

14. Princess Elizabeth's passion for filming

Though it is not clear whether she liked filming herself, she was clearly fond of watching clips filmed by her family members as it was shown in "Queen at 90"

15. Princess Margaret smoking habits

Princess Margaret had a reputation of a heavy smoker. Rightfully so, as she could smoke up to 60 cigarettes a day. Allegedly she started smoking in 1952 after the death of her father (she was 21 at the time). Smoking excessively could be a sign of untreated depression and mental health troubles which we will discuss in later posts.

Side note: Margaret's smoking was first noticed in her late teens when she became famous on the party circuit for her turtle shell cigarette holder.

16. King's operation

The operation to remove the lung indeed took place at the Buckingham Palace.

When the King's chest was suspected as the cause of his ill health, Sir John called in Geoffrey Marshall, 64, an expert on lung diseases, and Sir Robert Arthur Young, 80, grand old man of British chest experts. X rays by Radiologist Peter James Kerley and others showed what seemed to be a growth in the left lung. Australian-born Brigadier Sir Thomas Peel Dunhill, 75, who enjoys the title of Sergeant Surgeon to the King, agreed that an operation was necessary. The doctors decided that another Welshman, Chest Surgeon Clement Price Thomas, was the man to do the surgery.

17. Princess Elizabeth's curtsy to her mother and grandmother

A sweet gesture and a nice tradition to show respect which lasts up until this day.

Here is a clip of prince Harry bowing to his grandmother followed by kissing her on both cheeks.

18. Churchill elected the second time

Churchill became PM for a second time on October 26th, 1951. Fun fact: it happened month away from his 77th birthday.

19. Princess Elizabeth's Commonwealth tour

As the following episode will show the prince and the princess were on Commonwealth tour in 1952 when they received the news of king George's VI sudden death. They were in Kenya when it happened.

20. Carolers at Sandringham

Even though I can't find any reliable source about this scene, it is a decent metaphor. The king who learnt he is dying welcomes villagers who offer him a crown.

They sing "In a Bleak Midwinter" which I highly recommend to listen to closely.

The poem was written by an English poet Christina Rosetti.

What can I give Him, Poor as I am? — If I were a Shepherd I would bring a lamb; If I were a Wise Man I would do my part, — Yet what I can I give Him, — Give my heart.

21. Prince Philip and Navy

Prince Philip's naval career began when he was 17. The Duke of Edinburgh’s active naval career ended as a commander in January 1953, after almost 14 years.

Despite his retirement from active service, Prince Philp remained both interested and involved in the Naval Service through official visits, patronage of, and association with, naval charities and clubs.

Useful links:

#british royal family #british royal fandom #brf #british empire #the crown #netflix #fact check #princess margaret #prince philip #lord mountbatten #winston churchill #king george vi #peter townsend #Youtube #queen elizabeth ii

[bee-barnes-author]

Dead Darlings Tag

Tagged by @tabswrites

Tagging: @coffeewritesfiction @vivrune @violeaes @tombstuck @ellierenae @milkhoney531 @amandacanwrite @leahkentwriter @pheita @following-the-drum @sirensatyr and an open tag for anyone else!

Rules: Share a part of your writing you love that got cut for the greater good. It doesn't matter if it's a line or a paragraph. It doesn't matter if you might work it back in. If it's not currently in a WIP and you want to share, please do.

Deleted excerpt from 'The Beast in the Glass House' (it's a long one!)

Elijah doesn’t take it well when I tell him I’ll be staying behind this moon cycle, leaving him in charge of the pack while I’m here. “Seriously? You won’t be there? Well, what the hell are you doing instead?”

“I’m attending a Halloween party with Freya and her friends.” I say, cool toned and firm in my phrasing. My little brother can’t talk me out of this one. I’m confident in my position. This is the right path for me.

Elijah gapes at me like I’ve spontaneously sprouted a second head on my shoulders. “How are you going to do that? It’s the first night.”

“I’ll be fine. We’ll leave the party before the moon is even an issue for me.” I wave his concerns off. “Haven’t I proven my control?”

His lips twitch like he has a thousand words to say, but after a moment he finally lands on, “Do you want me here as backup?”

I shake my head. “No, I need you to lead the pack run.”

He pushes back, not satisfied by my answer. “Klaus can do it. I think you need me here as backup.”

“Look, Elijah, I appreciate that you’re trying to protect me, but what you’re actually doing is undermining me. I said I’ll be fine without you.”

My final refusal seems to push his temper over the edge. “But what if you’re not fine?! What if you’re just getting sicker and sicker like dad did?!” He stomps his foot at me like a child and for a long, horrible second I think I’m going to slap him.

But I control myself. I won’t lash out like that. “ENOUGH! Elijah! I am your Alpha and you will obey me!”

“I’m worried about you, jackass!” Elijah roars back, not quite matching my volume. He makes the wise choice not to get in my face. We both know how a fist fight between us would end.

“Don’t you think I’m terrified, too?! You stupid fuck! That’s why I have to do this! If our bond can settle completely, and she knows the truth about us, then everything can go back to normal! But this is a very delicate process. So you need to back. Off.” I emphasize my final words, putting pressure on the pack bond we share. This is an order, and he knows it. 

He knows it, and he fucking hates that I’ve done it. Elijah purses his lips, clearly biting back more vicious anger. “Fine.” He snarls, snatching his coat and stomping to the front door. “Fine. Don’t fucking listen to me. Jesus, fuck.” He’s not gentle when shutting the door behind him. He slams it so hard that the door frame vibrates violently, and the pictures on the wall rattle, threatening to slip off their mounts.

Elijah thinks I’m nothing more than a beast, whose cage is actually a house made of glass. He treats me like I’ll explode at any second, goring everyone around me with crystalline shards in the process. Tonight, I will prove to him beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am in control. I won’t have him undermining me with the rest of the wolves. No pack can survive if the Alpha’s Second attempts mutiny.

On the counter, next to where Elijah stood moments ago, is a cluster of purple herbs tied together with twine. Every full moon cycle, Elijah makes tea with this and that helps to delay his transformation for as long as possible. He’s stoned out of his gourd by the time he finishes his second cup, and he says it tastes like eating a fruitarian's shit, but it’s worth it because it works. And, as furious as he is with my choice to stay behind this cycle, he still chose to leave behind a bundle of his precious herbs for me.

I pick the herbs up like they’re more fragile than eggshell china. Like they’ll crumble in my grip if I clutch it too tight. I don’t know the scientific name for them, but the long purple stems grow lush, purple petals, and even the pollen that dusts the feet of the bees is a rich purple. They’re fairly rare on this side of the world. Elijah has the only greenhouse that grows them on the west coast, as far as I know. Lucius had disagreed with using them, so out of respect, Elijah kept the plants on my property and transported small batches to the cabin each moon.

My brother is a good man. I need to remember that. He’s just scared for me, and while, as I said to his face, I’m scared as well, I can’t let that stop me from doing what I need to do. For the good of myself and for the good of the pack. He’ll see that once we’re on the other side of this mess.

For today, I push away the strife. It’s eight a.m, and I’m due to be at your front door in two hours. It’s your tradition to take Halloween day off of work and celebrate in as many ways as you can. You’ve invited me to spend the day leading up to the party with you. Of course, I accepted immediately. What sort of fool would I have to be to decline the opportunity to spend more time with you?

#tag game #dead darling tag #writeblr tag games #writing #writeblr #writing community #writers on tumblr #the beast in the glass house #deleted content #novelist #writers #chapter excerpt #creative writing #writings #excerpts #I FORGOT TO FINISH TAGGING PPL T.T #horror fiction

[ipsen]

vtuber au snippet: kanae and eto

this is the vtuber au, i swear.

The black suits left after Aogiri appeared, led by one calling themselves the Owl. Cloaked in dark purples and wearing a terrifying mask, they and their fellows swept away any stragglers, then turned to the fallen, securing the area.

"Find anyone moving and get them up and underground," the Owl commanded in a deep, modulated voice. "Leave the rest."

With Master Shuu incapacitated, it was up to Kanae to speak up, even if his diaphragm screamed in protest. "L-Leave--?! No, you can't--!"

The Owl turned to him suddenly and tilted their head. "Oh. A survivor. You're welcome, by the way, for arriving when we did. You weren't going to win."

Kanae grit his teeth. "We were simply caught off guard."

"You were outmanned and outgunned. Your lack of preparation only worsened the results." The Owl came a bit closer, and each step was like ice cracking under pressure. "Has the Tsukiyama family always been so careless?"

Silence.

"If you answer, I'll reward you with these." They held up a desperately needed roll of bandages. "As an outsider to the situation, I would like to hear your opinion... Kanae."

His gaze shot up. "How do you--"

"I make it a policy to know who I'm working with." He couldn't see it, but he felt the Owl's smile. "Information is the most valuable thing in this trade, more than any weapon."

Much of the Aogiri grunts had cleared out, and the remaining ones, seeing the Owl attending Kanae, left them as well.

"I do not have time for this," Kanae said, struggling to get up. "Where are you taking Master Shuu? I must be at his side..."

"In your condition? I think not." The Owl grabbed his shoulder and sat him down. "It's a simple trade with a simple answer, Rosewald."

They even knew about that? How? When? Had the information leaked somehow?

"The factory must have been a terrible sight that day." They stood in front of him, looking down. "A simple visit, only to be slaughtered behind the gates... Do you know why that happened?"

"I have no need to answer to you, you filthy vogel."

"My, my— I just saved your life, and that's how I'm repaid? Touching." The Owl giggled and put the bandages away. "It's because you were weak. Your family was weak."

"You’re wrong..."

"Am I? When people are unhappy, they turn to their perceived betters. They ask for help, and blame them when it doesn't work. And you were considered 'better', weren't you? Your father and mother had taken up the helm of leader when your grandparents passed, as if it was their responsibility to look after blood."

"You stop this instant...!" But Kanae felt the pain from his wound start anew, and he was cut off.

"Do you know the phrase, 'blood is thicker than water'? It's meant to denote that one should look after their blood relatives because others are just that: other. They are not important. They do not matter. Not when compared to your biology. The circumstances under which you were born. It’s a phrase that says the things in life you cannot control are most important one.

"I've always hated it, and you should too. Your parents abandoned you, so why are you trying to salvage their legacy?"

"Y-You're wrong." Kanae prided himself on his family name. The sacrifice his parents and siblings had made for him. They wanted him to live; he refused to deny their last request. "They didn't... I wasn’t—"

"They did. And you were. If they truly loved you, they would have cared to give you a better life. They would have run things better, made the workers happier. The fire of a rebellion cannot be staked and maintained without wood or oxygen, and yet here you are, a quarter of a way across the world, running around where you don't belong."

"Shut up!" With what remained of his strength, Kanae lunged, only for the Owl to sidestep and for him to eat dirt.

They laughed. "The full phrase is 'blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb'. Much better, see? Skill trumps talent. Our deeds matter more than our circumstances. It’s our choices that make us who we are.

"So let's see those choices, shall we? Your family, your blood, decided that running their company poorly was the most important thing. More than their own survival. More than you. In so choosing that path, they created the very situation leading to you coming here, in this alley, with a wound in your stomach and half the Tsukiyama family servants slaughtered.”

”Stop it, stop it!” Kanae shouted, but his voice grew weaker. “They were noble… and, and…!”

“And fixated on profit. Yes, how noble. The end point of capitalism, where lives, even yours, are just another thing to be traded and risked— like shareholders and their precious stocks. Disgusting, don’t you think?” The Owl trotted over to him, hovering just behind him as he lay on the asphalt. “Your parents gambled with your life against your will, whether you like it or not. So stop looking at the rosy water and face the truth—"

They reached down and grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking him up and making him gasp. They whispered in his ear as tears spilled down his cheeks.

"Your parents didn't love you."

—

After seeing to Kanae and the rest of the survivors’ wounds and transportation, Eto shed her disguise and returned to Kaneki’s apartment through the window (she said Kaneki’s because it was just a temporary arrangement; she couldn’t keep risking his life like this). It was late enough that he should be asleep, and she didn’t want to wake him unnecessarily.

She crept into the spare bedroom and stuffed the Owl into the corner before closing the door. On the opposite wall, on the stand with her computer, Papa’s head watched her, reminded her of her chosen path. Despite that, she leaned against the door and sank down, holding her head in her hands. She trembled as her speech about blood and water drowned her brain and spilled into her stomach, weighing her down with nausea.

”What’s wrong with me…?” she whispered, as if anyone would hear.

#i keep doing this to kanae there’s something wrong with me #i enjoy kanae the same way i enjoy arima: through affectionate torture of their selves and nothing else #tg #tokyo ghoul #eto vtuber au #eto yoshimura #kanae von rosewald #writing

[abugwritesstuff]

labor

the pieces of the song "labour" by paris paloma that i've been seeing inspired this- in particular because of one of the lines. this is dark and i wrote it up in like, two hours last night and today, so 🤷🏻‍♀️ reader discretion advised? this is not particularly happy lol. also guy is just overtly evil in this. i don't even know that guy is this bad in-game but his vibe in the prologue is so intensely malevolent that well, here you go.

----

You make me do too much labor.

All day, every day, therapist, mother, maid

Nymph then a virgin, nurse then a servant

Just an appendage, live to attend him-

So that he never lifts a finger.

24/7 baby machine

So he can live out his picket-fence dream

It’s not an act of love if you make her-

You make me do too much labor.

-----

She had succumbed to it. What else was she meant to do? No one had really tried to stop it and from the beginning she’d been powerless. A helpless chick, that headmaster had said, then left her utterly alone and defenseless. The academy had been pretext, she figured. He’d always been content to let her slip away into that prince’s grasp, and so was everyone else. She’d hardly learned a thing in the time she’d been there, however short it was. Some excuse for an institution of learning.

In her memory, she could see the looks in their eyes. The discomfort. The irritation, sadness, confusion. That blue prince had apparently been disallowed from confrontation. The green one was allergic to it. The pink one was a spineless lapdog and the purple one couldn’t be bothered to focus on anything that wouldn’t fuck him. Fine. So he’d come along, declared her his, as though it was obvious and inevitable and everyone behaved as though that made sense.

After a point of time she’d resigned herself to it. Loved him, even, in her own strange way- he was rescuing her in a manner of speaking, keeping her safe from whatever other threats loomed outside, too many to count. If it hadn’t been him it would have been someone else eventually, he’d told her. There was no future where she was not a pawn. There was no timeline where she was not in possession by someone somewhere. Better the devil she knew than the one she didn’t, she told herself. More frequently she ran through that phrase in her head as the years passed. 

A wedding came along. The festivities occurred, as did the honeymoon, and the assignment of royal duties- to what extent they were allowed when she wasn’t called to action as a magical battery of sorts, or ivory-towered away from prying eyes. She was either in or out of use. Like a vacuum- pulled from the closet for use but then left in the dark to collect dust. Now, she was of a bit more importance than that. Instrumental in our success to annex the realm, he’d told her. It was the closest he’d ever come to praise, so she tried to relish it. 

Of course, that wasn’t to say her only uses were being siphoned off of for magic. No, being a queen came with more than that. The uses for her body were multifaceted. She’d given him a daughter first, much to her visceral dread. He’d been silent on the matter and she was disappointed but unsurprised by his aloofness. Not long after she gave him another. Then another. A prickling sort of anger bubbled under his surface- she could all but see it- but he stayed silent about it and continued to take and demand. She continued on as well, but with a gathering sense of something looming beneath her surface in dark, encroaching waves. Something she could not place. Something she was afraid of.

Did she try to say no? Of course. Sometimes. But that was the thing with Guy. No was not a word one could use around him. Could it be said, sure- but it would not be listened to. His magic being what it was made resistance futile. Every time in the early days when she would reject his demands or refuse to speak, he would push her under the weight of his magic and choke the resistance out of her by the sheer heaviness  of it. She became exhausted by it and eventually she agreed with him. She was a pawn. It was inevitable. And she was tired- she was so tired.

But the feeling wouldn’t leave her. It grew more intense. So she carried on with it tucked inside her like a secret. On the battle front, as the last resistance fighters gathered on the Isle of Colde succumbed to the might of Avari, he kissed her senseless from the battleship and went to finish the war off with the excess of her power, more for show than necessity, leaving her limp in the cabin, slumped against the bed and breathing shallow. This kind of moment had happened a million times over years and she’d grown accustomed to the sensation of going weak. He drained everything out of her and left her to recuperate by falling into a restless half-awake slumber until her magic recovered enough to allow her to function again. But this time it felt different. That feeling.

At home, in Avari, she’d waved goodbye to them for what felt like the last time and she hoped it would be. Those three girls, those wide-eyed and red-eyed girls she’d never envisioned herself ever having, that she’d been terrified for every single moment since they’d been born- they stood in a line at the dock beside Jasper and their governess. The oldest looked older than her years. It unsettled her to see the hardness growing in that girl’s face before her time, but Avari did this to girls and did it quickly. The younger two had already begun to lose that softness and wonder. Whatever little glimmers of joy and hope for their futures had existed naturally inside of them were dwindling quickly. Sometimes she couldn’t remember if she’d ever felt that way. Earth felt so distant.

She sucked in a breath in the silence and tried to play through each step of her recuperation as she usually did when he took from her. A deep breath in and out. And again, and again, slowly and counting through it and feeling the traces of magic trickle back in like the slow bursting of water through a dam.  A drip here became a stream and then she could feel the surge of magic through her chest again and she sighed in relief. Before arriving to Saligia she hadn’t been able to feel her latent magic, but being continually drained had given her a strong sense of it. The slightest change in levels and she could sense the way that it moved inside her body like a scale, forever trying to hold things even.  But this time the scale inside her was weighted down and she swallowed hard at the sensation moving through her. Her throat burned. And it occurred to her that it was not silent.

There was screaming. Relentless screaming. She sat up with a start, nerves alight and shaking with panic. It was a constant, continual noise that seemed to be growing in intensity and made up of an endless number of voices. It was dizzying, the way it thrummed through her head in a pounding ache. She shuffled to the side of the bed and stood, wavering on her feet for a moment for a moment before stumbling across the room to shove aside the curtain covering one of the small porthole style windows. Before her, the sea was on fire. Ships capsized one after another. Their crews surfaced from underneath the water and were immediately caught into the flames, burning until there was nothing left to burn. 

The door opened. 

“Again.”

He strode across the room and caught her as he usually did, an iron grip to the small of her back and another to her chin. His face mashed into hers and for a moment she went limp as was custom and the flow of her magic into him began- until it stopped. He pulled back with his brows knit together in irritation and his lip curled in disgust. He’d not even picked up an aura.

“You haven’t recovered your magic. Prepare for me.” With that, he dropped her like deadweight and she crumpled to the floor as he turned to leave. 

For a moment, she watched him. She closed her eyes then opened them again. He was gone.

She stood slowly and found that her strength had returned. She flexed her fingers experimentally and stared up and down along her arms. Somehow she felt fine. Much better than fine, in fact, better than she’d felt since long, long before she could now remember. The only thing that felt strange was that growing feeling of something underneath the surface about to crest, building up in her belly and rising into her throat, burning and choking until her eyes began to water. Each muscle fiber and ligament in her body felt distinct and strong but she felt full to bursting with some unnameable sensation. She found she was breathing in a rapid staccato. 

In her memory, she could not recall grabbing one of the swords off of the wall, but did remember that she felt it acutely in her hand as she drove it through the back of his head and stuck him to the bow of the ship. She did recall the fact that she was glowing a brilliant gold and that the flames extinguished in one fell swoop like she’d merely blown out a candle. When the Avarian fleet had turned on her for her crime, she recalled- with no small amount of pleasure- bringing a wave down on them. What came next was again a blur of power that flowed through her endlessly, rage after rage after rage tumbling through her body hot like live coals. She assumed later that she was probably screaming the entire time given the way her throat burned in the aftermath. 

She laid waste to the whole thing. The armies and the weapons, the towering monuments to power and the bureaucracy that built it, and somewhere at the bottom of the ocean between Avari and Colde laid the body of the man who’d declared a demigod a personal possession. She succumbed to the feeling. What else was there to do but reclaim? The fear she’d had, had been burned through and all that was left was incandescent rage and the pleasure of expressing it. 

The freedom was something she felt later on. Afterward, months and months later, when she’d taken her place on the vacated throne of Avari and gathered her daughters around her. Afterward, when the miles of coiled anguish had begun to unroll themselves and she’d spent time remembering herself when she could, between her moments re-orienting the world and restoring what had been knocked off balance-... she felt free for the first time since she’d arrived to the realm. Her power had upset this world in the wrong hands, when it hadn’t belonged to her. Now it did. 

Now it always would.

#court of darkness #guy avari

[deepspacedukat]

Praetor’s Pride - Part 2

This is shorter than I initially anticipated...also uh...remember how I said there might be like...eight or nine chapters? Yeah, it’s uh...it’s gonna be more than that. Also, I didn’t intend to post today, but uh...here we are. Enjoy!

Part 1 here.

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Praetor Hiren (ST:Nemesis) x Reader

[A/N: This has some smut adjacent innuendo/fantasizing, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Flirting, mentions of alcohol consumption, hangover, sexual innuendo, brief hint of sexual fantasizing, Hiren drinks his Respect Women Juice daily, insulting Kai Winn is my hobby/passion, platonic cuddling, mild Romulan hand play.

~*~

Hiren kept her in the periphery of his vision as he spoke to the various representatives in attendance. He had one left: a rather unpleasant blonde Bajoran woman. What was her name again? Winn? Internally he cringed as she made some insultingly transparent insinuation about bolstering relations between Bajor and the Empire.

He would much rather reinforce the friendship with the Federation via the lovely young thing Letant had just introduced him to. She was beautiful...utterly entrancing, unlike the power-hungry religious leader who was attempting to garner his favor by laying a hand on his sleeve.

Instead of sensual interest as she’d no doubt hoped to illicit, all Winn had done was inspire a vague nausea that he intended to remedy. The Praetor had endured just about enough of this unpleasantness. Turning his gaze fully and unabashedly toward where Letant and the Ambassador stood giggling with their glasses of Romulan ale, Hiren felt a smile spread across his lips.

“Yes, very interesting, I’m sure. Excuse me, Kai.” Without looking at her or bothering to wait for a response, Hiren puffed himself up the slightest bit and made his way toward his friend and the lovely lady who was slowly taking over his thoughts. Neither noticed his approach. “Now, what could you two be conspiring about?”

Letant wasn’t bothered by his appearance, but the young lady bit her lower lip and attempted very gallantly to stop her laughter.

“Oh, all manner of sordid things unbecoming to two public figures, as usual,” Letant chuckled even as his companion’s lovely face darkened in a blush. She gave the Senator a reproachful glare before looking to Hiren.

“Shaoi kon, Praetor,” she murmured demurely sending his heart thudding in his side. Her pronunciation of the deferential greeting was a little clumsy, but her tongue handled the syllables well otherwise. Maybe he should try to teach her some more of his language just to hear her whisper it in his ear...

Shaking that notion from his head and stepping closer to her, Hiren lifted a hand to his chest and inclined his head very slightly.

“Shaoi dan, lhhei.” At his intonation, surprise flitted over her face. So she knew the difference in meaning between the two phrases, then. That was good. Letant had introduced her as a prospective mate. No matter what position they each held, he wanted to make sure she knew that he perceived her as his equal. He hoped that the more balanced greeting he’d given would demonstrate that. “Forgive me for interrupting, but would you still be interested in conversing? I suspect that several intriguing differences in philosophy might become apparent in our discussion.”

“Of course. I’d love to, Praetor,” she replied, but he held up a hand.

“I recognize that our positions are very different, however, I would consider it a personal favor if you would call me ‘Hiren.’ There are enough Senators and military leaders who call me by my title as it is. I’d prefer to count you amongst that small group of people who are more...familiar with me.” He only put a small hint of sternness into his tone, but that was apparently enough to get through to her that he was serious about that request.

“As you wish...Hiren.” Her smirk sent a jolt of warmth through him. The Praetor had never much cared one way or another for his name, but the way this pretty little Human said it made several feelings stir beneath his otherwise calm surface. He watched as she handed her glass to Letant and clasped her hands behind her back. “Shall we?”

“Walk with me,” he said as he nodded his head in agreement. They were silent until they stepped out onto the balcony overlooking the steep drop leading to the edge of the Apnex Sea. Beneath the silvery light of the moon, Hiren watched as his companion stepped up to the railing and took a deep, bracing breath of sea air. The curve of her alien ears and the pleasing softness of her brow made him wish to skim his fingers over every inch of her just to know if her skin felt as soft as it looked. “I must admit, lhhei, I don’t know much of Human philosophy.”

“That’s alright. I know absolutely nothing of Romulan philosophy,” she said offering him a small smile. “I’ve spent quite a bit of time with Letant, but beyond my general observations of him and his behavior, I must say, your people are almost entirely a mystery to me.”

“Ah, then I fervently hope that I’ll make a good impression,” he said allowing his eyes to skim over her face in more detail. There was a subtle blush on her cheeks for which he assumed the Romulan ale was responsible - although, he did hope that it also had something to do with him.

“I’m certain you will, Hiren. You already represented your people admirably during your speech tonight.” The Praetor subconsciously puffed himself up a little, preening at her praise.

“One of my more eloquent addresses, in my opinion,” he noted glancing out at the waves. A light laugh trickled from the lady at his side, and he lifted an eyebrow as he turned back to her quizzically. “You disagree?”

“No, but I see your ego is no less inflated than Letant’s. I’ll be more careful about how I phrase my compliments in future.” She sounded almost as mischievous as she had with Letant.

“Humility is not often found in large quantities within Romulans. Surely you’ve realized that by now?”

“Oh, naturally. Some people find it annoying, but, to me, that’s part of what makes your people so intriguing,” she said turning to face him fully and leaning against the railing. “There’s a saying on Earth, though: ‘Pride goeth before the fall.’”

Hiren’s tongue darted out to wet his lips briefly at her insinuation and took a step closer, keeping eye contact with her the whole time.

“And...where exactly do you expect me to fall, dear lady?” He couldn’t contain the smirk that curled his lips at the way her eyes widened a fraction. Were those her pheromones that were clouding his mind so thoroughly?

The Ambassador looked up into his eyes and swallowed visibly before she answered.

“I don’t know you well enough to tell yet, Hiren.” Her voice was small and a little shaky, and a brief thought that he was the hunter and she his prey flitted through the Praetor’s imagination. That was a game he would dearly love to play with her. It was wise of her to remain guarded for now, though. After all, they’d only just met.

“We’ll have to remedy that, won’t we?” He couldn’t keep the flirtatious tone from his voice. Her eyes darted down to his lips for barely a moment, but he noticed - oh, he definitely noticed - the hunger that was there, even if it only lasted a split second. And it was hunger. Of that he was very certain. Letant had told him that Humans used their mouths for intimacy. Hiren had attempted to ‘kiss’ her hand earlier in the night, but he was unsure if he’d done it correctly. Now he desperately wanted a more personal demonstration of how that action was accomplished when done correctly. “Would you consider joining me for the midday meal tomorrow? There’ll be no need to stand upon ceremony. It’ll be just the two of us. If you can stand being around an arrogant Romulan for that long, of course.”

“Well...it’ll be a test of my endurance, but I think I can handle one measly little meal with you.” Hiren’s smile widened, and he was about to say something witty when her fingertips brushed against the side of his hand, trailing lazily up toward his wrist. His breath hitched and his mouth dropped open in surprise. Did she know of Romulan hand play? To touch the ruler of the Empire so brazenly in a public area... Had she any idea how she’d just enticed him?

The gleam in her eye told him she had at least a vague idea of what she’d done. If she’d been his already, she’d be in for a long night for forcing him to hold his composure during such an important event. Of course, that behavior just reinforced what Letant had said about her: she was an ideal mate for a Romulan and much too good for any pathetic Human male to claim. She deserved the best, which Hiren would strive to be for her.

Tamping down his physical reaction to her, Hiren looked to one of the floral arrangements at the side of the door. Quick as a flash, he’d snapped up one of the Sea Lilies and tucked it carefully into her hair.

“There. You already fit the scenery to perfection, but now it fits you, as well,” he murmured as a blush crept up her cheeks to the tips of her non-pointed ears. “Perhaps tomorrow I’ll be able to focus on more than just your beauty so that we can actually discuss philosophy as we’d planned.”

“I’d like that,” she replied quietly. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then, Hiren. Thanks for the chat.”

Just like that, she’d stepped around him and back into the banquet hall teeming with people. Once he’d lost sight of her, Hiren leaned on the railing and let out a heavy breath. This Human girl was dangerous if he was already thinking of her in such a familiar manner. Letant hadn’t told him she would be that good of a catch.

--

The next morning, I was awakened by my door chime. Groaning into my pillow, I called for whoever it was to come in and blearily climbed out of bed. Wrapping myself up in a warm, fluffy bathrobe, I peered out of the bedroom to see Letant lounging on my couch  as if he owned the place. He smirked as soon as I stepped into his field of vision.

“Ah, I see the alcohol affected you more than you let on last night. Your head must’ve been positively swimming by the time I returned you to your quarters,” he said as I shuffled over and curled up next to him on the couch with a small grunt. Without a moment’s hesitation, the Senator reached over and pulled me closer to him so I could lean against his side. “Well, you haven’t called me a bastard yet, so I take it your talk with Hiren was pleasant? You certainly seemed exuberant when you rejoined me after your walk with him last night.”

“You weren’t s’pposed to introduce me to someone actually nice, you smug ale sponge, you,” I grumbled against his shoulder. A smooth laugh poured from his throat and I buried my face further into the soft material of his tunic. “I’m serious. You were supposed to introduce me to yet another bigoted, pompous ass of a man so I could spend my days laughing at people with you instead of wondering what to wear to lunch with the Praetor of the entire fucking Romulan Empire–”

“You’re having lunch together? You didn’t tell me that last night.” Letant pounced on that piece of information, and I nodded my head silently from my curled up position. “Then I shall keep my mischief to a minimum today.”

“Oh no you don’t! You don’t get to start chaos then run off like you usually do. You got me into this, and I need your help figuring out what outfit would be appropriate.” I grabbed his arm firmly as if to keep him here, but he just rested his chin atop my head. “I don’t want to make an ass of myself.”

“Never fear. I’d never let you go into something like this blindly. First, however, I think you might need my hangover cure, am I right?”

“And whose fault is that?” I snarked looking up at him.

“What can I say? I enjoy your laughter and you give me so much more of it when you’ve had alcohol. You know I wouldn’t allow anything to happen to you, sweet girl.”

“Of course I do. Why else do you think I allow myself to drink so much of that blue warp plasma you call ale?”

“At least we don’t drink that synthetic swill that is supposedly alcohol,” he retorted, and I couldn’t help but giggle against his side. We reclined there for a little while longer before Letant extricated himself and went to the replicator. He returned with a glass of what looked like tar - a sight I’d become quite accustomed to after many nights of overindulging in Romulan ale in his company. Even if I never got too severely intoxicated, Romulan ale caused the worst hangovers in existence, so this horrid black goop was a necessary evil. “You know the drill. Drink until your tongue feels fuzzy, then close your eyes till the sensation goes away.”

I accepted the glass with a grimace and did as he instructed. When I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, Letant ran his fingers gently through my hair. Eventually, the pounding in my head stopped and the lights didn’t seem as painful.

“Better?” I hummed quietly at his question and turned my head to look at him. “What is it?”

“Oh nothing. I just don’t know what I’d do without you. Aside from having a diminished number of hangovers, that is,” I murmured, and he gave me a fond smile.

“Always so sentimental. Come. Let’s sort through your wardrobe. I’m sure there’s something we can work with, even if Human clothes aren’t quite as stylish as Romulan ones.” He stood and made his way toward my bedroom, and I followed close at his heels.

“At least we don’t look like we’re trying to disguise ourselves as couches.” He let out a bark of laughter.

“Just remember that this particular ‘couch’ is the reason you have a date!”

~*~*~

Romulan words:

shaoi kon = formal greeting from inferior to superior

shaoi dan = formal greeting between equals

lhhei = madam

#deepspacedukat fic #Praetor Hiren x Reader #Hiren x Reader #mild innuendo

[theweavingserpent]

"Old Time Burials" [1]

The following transcripts are from the second Foxfire book from the chapter "Old Time Burials." Trigger warnings for death, funerals and dead bodies.

While reading the following transcripts, please keep in mind that Appalachia has a unique dialect. Many of the words and phrases shown may be foreign to you. They are not misspellings; they are a reflection of Appalachia's dialect.

All transcripts are indented. Any quotes of peoples direct words are bold and italic. My own commentary will be normal text.

I'm making a particular note of the following transcript, because it reflects how society has lost its sense of community and empathy. Even if you choose not to read the rest of the transcripts below the cut, I encourage you to read the following.

While working on this chapter, we learned to value the qualities of unselfishness and concern that people had for others in the time of death and to appreciate the unlimited time they gave of themselves. Showing their genuine sympathy, respect, and love for the family of the deceased, people traveled great distances in wagons and on horseback to attend wakes, help dig and fill the grave, make the coffin, wash and dress the body, and to help the family in any possible way. And they did it, usually, free of charge. As Margaret Norton said, "Th'family didn't have t'pay nothin'. They dug th'grave free of charge. Men went in together and dug th'grave. And you made th'burying clothes, and you made th'box t'be buried in, and there wadn't no payin' goin' on. Th'preacher never charged for a funeral- for preachin' the funeral. They'll charge for funerals now, preachers will. They're not supposed to. See, most preachers is paid by salary, and that's one of his jobs. He ain't supposed t'charge y'. But many of'em'll take anything."

As soon as a person died, a number of things were traditionally done almost simultaneously: a bell was tolled announcing the death; a neighbor was contracted to produce a casket (unless it had been made in advance under the supervision of the person who had died); relatives who lived away from the community were notified as quickly as possible- sometimes by means of a letter edged with a black border; and the body was washed and laid out in preparation for the wake that would take place that night in the home of the deceased. The "settin' up" was held in the home since, as Maude Shope said, "They didn't have no funeral homes t'take'em to, y'know. If one was t'die here last night, we laid'im out. What neighbors was already here 'cause somebody'uz sick would strip th'bed off and put'im on a plain plank till y'got yer casket." Most of our contacts told us the number of times the bell tolled depended on the age of the person who had died. Ethel Corn, for example, said, "Quick as the news went that they was dead, why somebody would go ring th'bells. And then they'd toll th'bells for however many years old they were. You could count th'bells a'tollin' and you'd know just exact how old that person was."

The thing that stands out the most to me here is the fact that small communities made somebody's death a community-wide event. Showing up to the funeral was just the bare minimum. People made it a point to help the sick during their final days, as well as the family of the sick. Even after death the family's neighbors would contribute to make the wake and burial process easier.

This expression of sympathy and compassion is a rare experience these days. People will show up for funerals, offer the family of the deceased food as a sign of compassion and things like that. Nobody goes to such great lengths, as it has been recorded in this book, to help a friend or neighbor these days. Even in the largest of families, it is almost always left to a small few to sort out the funeral arrangements.

Even pastors, the people who are supposed to be the most compassionate and generous towards their communities, will demand payment or a donation to their church to perform any services for a funeral these days.

It's honestly disgusting to think about how many people profit so much off the dead and their grieving families. The viewing, burial, service fees, transport, casket, embalming and other aspects of a funeral can cost thousands of dollars. Putting the dead to rest shouldn't cost people so much money- especially when families are grieving.

By the time the casket was delivered at the home of the deceased, many of the neighbors in the community would have gathered around those who were mourning. "They'd go spend th'night, y'know," said Mrs. Tom McDowell. "They'd go set up of a night and sing, and people'd come in. And when they died, somebody'd go and toll th'bell at th'church. And that let th'community know. If we'uz workin' in th'fields and somebody died, we quit and we went. Tom's grandmother had a big old sheep horn. And when she died, they got up and blowed that horn. Now we heard that all around. They blew th'horn that noon, and th'horses heard it, they all come in. People didn't work no more till she was buried." "The neighbors usually did everything," said Mrs. E. H. Brown. "Usually they'd be someone go spend the night with them the first night. They thought they'd be lonesome or something." The night following the death, it was customary to have a wake, or a "settin'up with th'dead." In fact, this is often still done today. When we asked Fidel Crisp why, he remarked, "Show your respect to th'dead man is all I know. It's th'respect they have for you after you die. And they set up with'im on that account. But now y'die, they don't give a damn whether you live or walk."

The part about spending the night with the dead is intriguing. To many southern and Appalachian folk, it's believed that the dead need time to process their own death and pass on. "They thought they'd be lonesome or something" implies that the dead are still present shortly after their death occurs, and they want comfort. Spending time with the deceased after death wasn't just about comfort, but also respect.

Digging and filling in the grave was a sacred act that was often reserved for friends and neighbors who were close to the family. Ada Kelly verified this by saying, "Friends dug the grave and filled it up afterwards. And some do here now. They used t'be a bunch a'men had tools, shovels, and ever'thing that they needed t'dig graves. And some one person usually had charge of those tools. Different ones in th'community would dig th'grave. It was always very sacred. It'uz just a custom." Florence Brooks added, "They'd just carry th'casket up t'th'cemetery, and they'd have th'grave already dug. All th'neighbors helped dig it. They'uz a lot a'difference back then. Seemed like people had better feelin's for other people than they do now. Now they don't care if y'set up by yourself all night or not."

This is what I have been talking about this entire time: respect and compassion. Throughout these parts of the chapter it is constantly reiterated that all of these customs have meaning. It was a standard to give beloved members of the community a good send-off.

When reading this chapter I felt a sense of melancholy. It's amazing to see how much people cared about their neighbors way before profiting of the deceased was normalized, but it's a sad reality knowing that people just don't care like they used to.

#section: book transcripts #section: appalachian history #section: death work #book: foxfire book two #info: funeral customs

[rinwellisathing]

Untitled Wyll/Tav Drabble because Wyll Ravengard is actually perfect and I had a really bad day at work.

Wyll/Femme presenting Tav(this OC is nonbinary)

Just some fluff and comfort, though as usual with my catharsis writing, trigger warning for bullying.

Jaina hummed softly, one hand on Sentry's back, the other, glowing with a cool blue aura, on Karlach's. Her hands moved in slow, circular motions like ripples on the water and she began to sing gently.

"Upon one summer's morning, I carefully did stray down to the lower city where I met a sailor gay..." her voice was haunting, almost bewitching.

Wyll smiled up from his sharpening stone. "Are you sure you aren't trained as a bard, my friend?"

Jaina nodded with a smile, watching Karlach's eyes flutter, a tell tale sign of slipping consciousness as she brushed a strand of dark hair from the other tiefling's face.

"No, just a sorcerer with some wizardry schooling, I'm afraid." She replied once she was sure the two she'd been soothing had nodded off.

"You should try for bard's college, you have a lovely voice." Wyll's full attention was now on her, one eye of red and one of stone meeting glowing blue in the darkness.

"I couldn't..." Jaina smiled sadly and looked away.

"Why ever not? If it's something you would like..." Wyll scooted closer to her, finding with pleasant surprise she smelled like fresh ocean air and sea blooming flowers.

"You have a contract you can't get out of, so do I. " She remarked cryptically, gazing forward with a resigned look on her freckled face.

"Oh?" The Blade gazed curiously at her, waiting for her to continue.

A small, mirthless chuckle escaped Jaina's lips and she looked Wyll in the eyes. "My darling Ravengard, how do you suppose those of us who grew up outside of nobility pay for school?"

"I'm....I'm sorry? You were charged to attend school in the city?" Wyll's eyebrows rose. Father never told him about that and out along the Sword Coast, most people he met weren't exactly city folk.

Jaina nodded. "Yes. My family couldn't pay, and so I work for the school now. I have since I was old enough."

Wyll frowned, lowering his head. "I'm sorry, from the way you spoke about it, it sounded like you loved your students and your work."

His tone was genuinely apologetic. Jaina's expression softened as she immediately felt bad for her bitterness. Wyll was a good man and none of this had anything to do with him.

She sighed and nodded. "Please don't misunderstand, I love my students very much, but my coworkers, well...not so much." She looked at the ground, mind reeling with a recent exchange before her abduction.

"But Miss Cressida, you said we could ask the headmistress to intervene if a child was too unruly." Jaina rubbed the bruise on her cheek from a child's foot having struck her in the face during an outburst.

"Have you ever heard the phrase 'rules for thee but not for me', girl? I may call for aid, you may not. You are lucky to be here." The greying elvish woman had sneered, her aged face glaring down at Jaina.

Jaina kept her head down, pale hair framing her face, hiding her anger as she tapped her fingertips together and counted to ten like mother always said.

"Besides, I can calm them. I can provide structure. You hellspawn are born of chaos, you don't do well in these sort of jobs." Cressida smirked. "Now go, the children need to be changed, that's your duty."

"I see..." Jaina had felt her jaw clench, a white hot flash of anger coursing through her, the urge to lash out, but she knew she had to keep it down. For the children and for herself.

Back in the present, she was only aware she was crying and warm, calloused hands gently pressed to her cheeks, thumbs wiping her tears so gently.

"I'm sorry....for what it's worth, I will do everything I can to get you out of your contract, just like you're trying to do for me...and it's as you said, if we put our tadpoles together, we can figure anything out." His smile was so kind, so handsome. Jaina's heart fluttered in her chest as she slowly raised one hand to his, just savoring the closeness.

"Thanks, Wyll..."She gave a small but unmistakeably genuine smile as he stood, offering a hand to help her to her feet as well.

#baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #tiefling #oc #tav #wyll ravengard #bg3 wyll #Wyll #drabble #fanfic #writing