#mari’s 2k celebration | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mermaidinn · 2 months

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Innkeeper Era OFMD Fic Recs

Hey friends, I was organizing my ofmd fic bookmarks and figured I'd throw together a rec list of a few of my favorite post season 2 fics in case anyone is needing this kind of stuff atm. This is by no means a full list of even all my favorites and I'm sure I've missed some good ones, but I've tried to include a good variety of themes and also not make this post extremely long. <3 love you all so much, I don't do much talking in fandom spaces, but you are all incredible and I appreciate each and every one of you

big thank you, obviously, to all the authors of these (and all) fics, y'all are truly doing the lord's work out there

Magpie- 6k, Ed keeps treasures

Cold feet- 1k, Stede gives Ed a gift

Look back- 4k, Stede tells Ed a story

Weathering it Together- 4k, Ed has a panic attack in a storm (there are a lot of fics about this and I always love them, but in the interest of this post not being a mile long I’ll stick with just this one)

Moving forward- 1k, Ed talks to Stede about izzy’s emotional abuse

Outburst- 5k, Ed tells the crew about what happened with izzy

Riding Double- 4k, Stede is a horse girl, Ed’s less into it

Good Bones- 11k, the boyfriends work on the inn, and their relationship

Breaking & Entrees- 9k, E, Stede and Ed have an adorable date night, and fun and sweet mermaid rp beach sex

Old friends- 6k, crew visits and Ed panics about it

Of few words- 12k, E, Ed gets a new tattoo and tells Stede about some old ones, Stede gets his first tattoo

Taking it slow- 5k, E, (2.5, 2.6) Ed has some regrets about the phrases ‘take it slow’ and ‘mistake’

A marriage of true minds- 2.7k, Stede and Ed bond over Shakespeare

Lost and found- 2k, Stede finds the cake topper dolls

By your side until it’s over / to the back of a hand- 5k/2k, E, (2.8) Stede and Ed talk through lingering insecurities and izzy related traumas

Dear Ed- 3k, Mary’s widow group discovers some of Stede’s love letters

Sailor's delight- 14k, E, 14k words of hot, fun, sweet tentacle porn, you’re welcome. I think this passes as canon compliant even though the magic is a bit more, um, tangibly real than it is on the show

Guava jelly- 15k, E, Ed working through some issues, sexual healing

Gone fishing- 6k, Ed and Stede discuss plans for the inn

Something to celebrate- 1k, the boyfriends try to decide what their first date was

Finding the right words- 3k, discussion of some of Stede’s insecurities

The thing about snakes- 7k, Archie and Ed have a chat

#our flag means death #ofmd #our flag means death fanfiction #ofmd fic recs #gentlebeard #fic

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otrtbs · 9 months

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ART HEIST, BABY OUTTAKES (From The Vault)

SUMMARY: Two scrapped scenes from Art Heist, Baby! that didn't make the cut. Done in celebration of the one year anniversary of Art Heist, Baby! being complete! (Where did all the time go?)

WORD COUNT: 2k

(okay, for clarity, the first scene takes place sometime between chapter 15 and chapter 16 of Art Heist, Baby! and the second scene takes place during chapter 37 of Art Heist, Baby! One Regulus and one James POV <3)

“Oof.”

Regulus can’t help the smile that flashes across his face, there and then gone, at James’ little noise of surprise. James doesn’t have time to say anything else before Regulus’ mouth is on his, kissing him in fervent, electric delight that only secrecy could inspire.

Regulus always loves this best, pulling James into some room on the third floor after he dismisses the rest of the class. His hands running over the soft fabric of James’ shirt or the smooth expanse of his torso underneath as he hears Mary and Lily tear through the halls just beyond the closed door laughing, or Peter humming to himself softly as he makes his way down the stairs. All of them completely unaware that just behind the door they unknowingly walked past, Regulus was snogging James Potter's face off and attempting to shove his hands down his trousers. It’s times like these when Regulus curses himself for making all his stupid rules about the heist. He’d much rather be able to drag James through the hallways of this house and into his bedroom without a care in the world of who they happened to pass by.

“If you could be anything in the world, what would you want to be?” James gasps, his head falling back against the wall Regulus has him pressed up against. “But you can’t say what you are now, you have to pick something different.”

His cheeks are flushed and he’s halfway to looking debauched already. Just how Regulus likes him.

“Because, personally, I think I would want to be a dragon or something,” James continues once it’s clear Regulus has no intention of answering. “A red dragon that could breathe fire and fly. That would be cool. Oh, or I would be a Renaissance jouster. I could ride up on my horse and ask you for your favour in front of the whole kingdom. That would be fun.” A beat of silence. “What about you?”

Regulus lets out a derisive noise as he detaches his lips from James’ neck. “Seriously?”

“You could be anything. Not just career-wise. But you could be a rock in a stream or a cloud or a microwave.”

“James,” Regulus isn’t proud of the way he almost whines at this. They have very few minutes before lunch will be ready and then they’ll be called downstairs.

“Just humour me for a minute, Regulus,” James grins as Regulus pulls away, shushing him slightly in case someone walks by and hears them. “Please,” he whispers, still smiling radiantly.

This wasn’t a new thing for James. He was always asking Regulus all sorts of questions. When he said he wanted to know any and everything about Regulus, he meant it. And of course, because James was James, Regulus would always indulge him.

“Okay, give me a moment to think about it,” Regulus sighed, furrowing his brows. “And I can’t just pick to be who I am now and move on with it?”

“Nope,” James shook his head, placing his hands behind his back as leaned against the door. “That’s against the rules.”

It was a silly question, but Regulus still found himself thinking about it thoughtfully. If he could be anything, what would he want to be?

Strangely, his mind wandered to Sirius.

Sirius, who was so close but still seemed so far away. Sirius, who would throw himself in front of Walburga and Orion’s rage to protect Regulus every time, even when Regulus didn’t deserve it. Sirius who would knock on Regulus’ door in the middle of the night just to make sure that he was okay, who asked him what he was learning in school when his parents couldn’t be bothered, who made sure Regulus kept warm in the winter, who always remembered his birthday even when nobody else did. And how did Regulus repay him? He chose to stay with his parents instead of leaving with Sirius, even after all of that, and now Sirius hates him, and probably always would.

If he could be anything in the world, he supposes he’d want to be a good brother, or, at least a better one than he was in this life. Or maybe he’d want to be brave. Brave like Sirius. Brave like James. And maybe that bravery would help him to be a better brother.

He frowned at the sinking feeling in his chest. He wasn’t sure he liked this game anymore.

Quickly, he looked at James who was eagerly awaiting his answer with a smile on his face.

James who wanted to be a fucking dragon or a jousting knight wanted this game to be fun. Something light.

“Well, I guess I’d be the Prince of the kingdom giving you my favour in front of everyone before your big joust,” he says after a moment, giving a small smile as something in James’ face softens.

“You’d want that?” He asks, looking at Regulus through his glasses that were still lopsided from Regulus’ previous fierce snogging.

Regulus bit his bottom lip and shrugged. Going where James went didn’t seem like such a bad idea. If James would let him, if James would want him to. Maybe some of his bravery would rub off on him somehow. “Sure, why not?”

James’ hand shakes as he reaches for the pink sticky note. He can’t bring himself to feel embarrassed by it, even though Evan and Barty are standing right behind him, ready with the painting and a ruler and a tape measurer and everything else you could possibly need to ensure that a painting is perfectly centred and straight on a wall.

For a minute he just stares at it, hand outstretched and trembling, taking in Regulus’ curly handwriting. James wonders if Regulus put a lot of thought into this sticky note. If he hovered the pen over the sheet of paper and thought long and hard about what painting he wanted. If Regulus went through every room in their house envisioning the perfect place to hang this painting, trying to place the pink sticky note above the spot where he wanted their bed to be, or in the hallway across from the kitchen, or upstairs. Taking it down and re-sticking it to different places until he found the perfect one. He wonders if Regulus had gone over every painstaking detail in his mind just as James had done over these last two years, or if he had just known.

It’s silly, hesitating over a sticky note like this. It had fallen down from its spot on the wall numerous times over the weeks and months that it had been there. So why was it so hard to take it down now? It’s what Regulus wanted, and James never had any issue with the other sticky notes. He buzzed around the house, taking each sticky note down with him as he went about unpacking Regulus' books and planting a garden and filling up the closet. He didn’t throw any of the notes out either, though. Instead, he kept them in a small box at the back of his closet for safekeeping. That’s exactly where this sticky note would go if he could just bring himself to take it down.

Barty lets out a little sigh from behind him and James turns around just in time to see Evan elbow him harshly in the ribs and the spell is broken.

With trembling fingers James pluckes the sticky note off the wall, a little bit of paint coming up with the reinforcement tape he had added to ensure the paper stopped falling down, and held it to his chest tightly. Quietly, without looking away from the spot where the sticky note had been he whispered to Barty and Evan, “Alright, let’s put it up.”

That night James dreams constantly.

He dreams of the waves crashing against the shore of his favourite beach with reckless abandon and he dreams of car chases and gilded frames and the smell of turpentine, but most importantly, he dreams of Regulus.

“It’ll be sunny and warm there. I love the sunlight you know,” Regulus murmurs sleepily.

They’re in the house in New Hampshire together and Regulus is starting his favourite activity of only opening up in the dark, when he doesn’t have to see or be seen, but James doesn’t mind.

“Hmm?” he hums, pulling him closer. It’s late, and James guesses that he only has a couple of hours before he has to be up learning about the heist from one of Regulus' many classes.

“In Brazil. The warmth, the light. I don’t know, I feel like the rays will hit my chest and dislodge all the dark sludge from my heart, and for a moment I can just sit there and be golden and bright. It’s foolish,” Regulus sighs and James can hear his frown, even in the dark. Always like the tides, pushing in and pulling back.

“I don’t think so,” he responds quickly. “I think it’s nice.” He attempts to hold Regulus tighter, to warm him up somehow because he sounds a little too sad tonight for James’ liking and he’s starting to feel strangely cold in his arms. “But for the record, I’ve always thought you were pretty fucking bright and brilliant, Regulus.”

Regulus has a habit of seeing himself as something dark and stormy. Something turbulent and destructive, but James knows better. James knows the truth.

Regulus hums lightly, something soft and sweet. “I know, James. It’s a nice thought.”

James wants to say something else, he wants to run his fingers through Regulus’ hair and kiss his forehead and convince him of his warmth, but before he gets the chance to, he wakes up.

For a long while, James just lays there, flat on his back, unmoving in the aftermath. He listens to the beat of his heart and his shallow breathing. It had been several weeks since James had dreamed of Regulus like this.

He used to hate it. He used to find the reminder of Regulus’ absence unbearable when he opened his eyes, but these days he doesn’t mind it.

When he dreams of Regulus now, it makes it missing him a little bit better. He always misses Regulus, but this way it feels like James just got to see him. It makes it seem as if the last time James got to see Regulus was just the day before instead of two years ago.

“Oh, Regulus? Yeah, I just saw him last night.”

“I held him in my arms only yesterday.”

Sometimes it’s a comforting thought to have.

“You would love Brazil, Reg,” James whispers in the dark to his ceiling. Alone in his empty bedroom. “I hope it’s sunny and bright wherever you are. I hope you're not cold.”

Barty and Evan stick around for a little while after the painting is put up. They field several calls of anger and astonishment from Sirius both from their phones and from James’ phone. They attempt to convince James to come back to Vegas with them for the thousandth time, but he declines. It’ll be good for him to sit in the house for a while, now that it’s finally finished.

It feels like an end in so many ways, but not in the mournful way James expected it to. It felt as complete as it possibly could be without Regulus. Always there, like a chip in his favourite mug. Not shattered, still usable, but always with a quick sting of pain if you nicked your lip on the chipped rim. Still, it was the only mug James would ever want to drink out of.

He looks forward to discovering what new beginning this end will bring about for him. He can only hope that it's a nice one.

While he doesn't take Barty and Evan up on their offer to come back to Vegas with them, he does take them to the airport. He walks them as far as they will let him go and waves goodbye until they are out of sight and begins the journey back to his little house.

He thinks about the simple things. Things he needs to buy from the store– more lemons, some cleaner, cinnamon. He makes a note to call Marlene to fill her in on his recent adventures, and reminds himself that it’s about time to check the financial accounts to ensure everything was still running smoothly.

He lets these thoughts fill his mind all the way until he gets home, and when he opens the door to his house, to their house, he sees the painting. A ship sailing bravely through the blue ocean, cutting through the waves into the unknown expanses beyond. He smiles to himself as he sees it lit up in a brilliant warm glow. The rays of the sun kiss it gently and fill it with radiance. Then, ever so softly, James closes the door behind him.

#nat writes #art heist baby!#happy one year to art heist!!!#so much love in my heart for this story and these characters <33 #can't believe a year ago i was uprooting my life to move across the ocean and finishing my first ever story!!! and now i'm here #surreal a bit #okay love youse <3 im sappy

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fayes-fics · 11 months

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Teacher Bridgerton

2k Celebration Masterpost

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU

Summary: Modern AU Benedict, primary school art teacher

Warnings: none... fluff, dad!Benedict

Word Count: 830

Authors Note: Last of my 2k follower celebration drabbles. This is for @guiltywaves with the prompt of art teacher Benedict (ask here). i had to end with some soft dad!Benedict, Unbetaed. Enjoy! <3

“Is this right, Mr Brid-etun?” a boy holds a piece of paper aloft, struggling to enunciate the last name a little, wiggling in his tiny chair.

“Daniel, this is art,” Benedict explains softly as he drops to kneeling next to the little boy. “There is no right or wrong; just whatever you want to draw, do that. And please call me Ben.”

The boy looks at him wide-eyed, almost suspicious. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am sure. I am your art teacher, remember?”

The boy nods solemnly and reaches across the low table for a crayon.

“Fank you, Ben,” he murmurs, a little peek of tongue at the corner of his mouth as he draws an arc in bright green.

Benedict smiles at the little boy and then stands back up to survey the cheery art room filled with 5-year-olds, preoccupied with crayons and their imaginations. It never fails to make him happy when Reception Year has its lesson every Wednesday morning. And not just because of one very special person it contains.

He never saw himself as a teacher, but a 2-month volunteering stint at summer classes on a whim became a temporary placement the following term that somehow became a job. That was seven years ago—he has never felt more content.

“Uncle Ben, I drew a cat!” a voice pipes up proudly, and he turns around to see Mary Bridgerton beaming up at him, holding a picture of what could possibly be a cat. It's a bright purple circle with rather demonic-looking red eyes and lightning-bolt yellow whiskers.

“Mary, that's very… colourful,” he offers diplomatically, bending down to ruffle her hair. “But remember, I'm just supposed to be Ben at school; I'm Uncle Ben at home,” he whispers as his brother's youngest child taps a finger to her nose with a wink, her pretty brown eyes shining as if agreeing to safeguard some grand secret.

“I want to draw a car,” Mary’s friend Lila sighs wistfully.

“You can do it, Lila. Here,” Benedict hands her a blue crayon. “Try with this. I can help if you get stuck. I’ll be right here. And look, it's blue, just like your Mummy’s car.”

Lila rolls her eyes. “Yes, I know, Daddy. I’m not colourblind like Uncle Colin,” she replies dryly, eliciting a peal of laughter from Mary. She is often far more mature than her years, and she is growing up so fast that sometimes it terrifies him.

“Lila!” he admonishes quietly. “Remember, you must call me Ben when we are at school! And Uncle Colin isn't colourblind; he is just clueless about how to dress himself,” Benedict adds with slight relish.

“But Mary just called you Uncle Ben,” Lila retorts, drawing a quite impressive version of a blue car for her age—Benedict's heart wells at the sight but schools his expression the best he can.

“It was a accident!” Mary pipes up, indignant.

“It’s okay, Mary,” Benedict soothes. “Just remember to call me Ben at school if you can.”

She agrees and returns to her art—starting on a quiet terrifying-looking green dog.

_____

“Mummy, look!” Lila runs up to you as you walk in from work after a long day, the delicious scent of garlic and herbs greeting you as soon as the front door opens.

She is holding aloft a remarkable drawing of a blue car. Very much like the one you just climbed out of.

“That's wonderful, Lila!” you compliment as you drop your work bag and take the paper from her for a closer look, kissing her cheek before she runs back to the kitchen table excitedly.

You wander in after her, admiring her handiwork, to be greeted by your husband feeding your baby boy in his highchair as dinner simmers away on the hob.

“Somebody is taking after her Daddy,” you smile indulgently, leaning in to kiss his jaw as you watch his face light up with joy, seeing what you have in your hands. He turns his head to capture your lips instead.

“I am so ridiculously proud; she's my star pupil. That's bad to say, isn't it?” he confesses over your lips, grimacing slightly in an utterly enchanting way.

You chuckle, nuzzling his face, enjoying the slight rasp of stubble. “It's just fine, Mr Bridgerton. I do believe it’s okay to play favourites if the class contains your own daughter.”

“I'm just glad she draws better than Mary,” he confesses, keeping his voice soft enough that Lila cannot hear.

“That bad, eh?” you laugh, dropping a kiss on your son's hair as he mashes banana into his own cheek, burbling happily.

“Stuff of nightmares,” he shudders, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Well, I'm certainly not telling Anthony,” you warn, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as his twine around your waist, pulling you into his comforting embrace. “Or Kate.”

“Yeah, me either; I’ll give Mary a gold star and lie at parents' evening,” he jests into your hair.

“Smart man, teacher Bridgerton.”

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @mlovesbridgerton @m-rae23 @last-sheep

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #2k follower celebration

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fairy-writes · 2 months

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Can you do a part 2 to your MTP William x archaeologist sister reader I would like to see the Holmes brothers reactions. ❤️

A MIGHTY SURPRISE OVER DINNER

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Moriarty the Patriot

Pairing(s): William James Moriarty x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Holmes!Reader, Archaeologist!Reader, Sexist behavior from the Holmes family? (not Sherlock)

Notes: We’re pretending courthouse weddings were a thing back in this time period

PART ONE LINKED HERE

__________________________________________________________________________

Your marriage to William James Moriarty was a secret well-kept until a snowy winter day in December.

It had been a simple courthouse wedding. His family had been there. Albert and Louis as witnesses. But the rest of his little ‘entourage’ had shown up in celebration as well. James Bonde and Sebastian Moran had shown up with bottles of wine to celebrate what they said was “a day that they thought would never come.”

Fred Porlock had been sweet and gifted you a bouquet of daffodils. He had told you later that they represent new beginnings, and he wanted to welcome you to their little family.

It took all your strength not to burst into tears right at that moment.

You hadn’t even worn a wedding dress, for heaven's sake! Instead, you wore a simple white blouse with beige trousers because you didn’t want to purchase much less tailor white ones. William had worn his regular brown suit and red tie.

Oh, how your mother would’ve had your head had she found out. How improper you were!

You didn’t even take a proper honeymoon persay. William had instead surprised you with a trip back to Egypt to visit the locals of your latest dig. You hadn’t been on an excavation in ages, and they were more than happy to welcome you and your new husband with open arms.

Husband…

You were officially married. No longer a Holmes and no longer tied to your family.

You were free.

Well… as free as a woman could be, that is.

All that was left was to tell your parents and brothers.

The aforementioned secret marriage was kept a secret for approximately thirteen months before it got out. In fact, you managed to keep it a secret up until William asked if he could break the news to your family over Christmas dinner.

He asked you over breakfast around a week before Christmas Day. You had moved into his estate soon after the marriage was finalized.

“Might I ask you a question?” He asked politely, and you looked up from your ham and eggs, raising an eyebrow as you did so.

“Sure.” You said as you swallowed your mouthful and cleared your throat.

“How do you feel about telling your parents about our marriage?” At this, you choke on your inhale and proceed to cough until you almost feel lightheaded.

William—used to your dramatic reactions by now—sits patiently as you try to gain some semblance of control over your body.

“What brought this up?” You demand, and he shrugs, taking a sip of his tea.

“It’s been over a year now. Don’t you think it’s time to tell them?” You look down at your hands, fisted in your shirt, and grit your teeth, mulling it over.

He was right… it had been over a year since you went no contact with your family save for Sherlock. Of course, he relayed messages from them to you. But you never responded besides telling them to sod off.

At least Sherlock understood where you were coming from and didn’t push the issue too much. Perhaps then he would know why you had kept your marriage a secret until now?

So… with that in mind… you agree, and William sends out invites to Sherlock, Mycroft, and your parents that day. You also send out an invitation to John and Mary and their new baby girl as moral support.

Sherlock responds almost immediately by phoning William and enthusiastically saying he’d be delighted to come to the Moriarty estate for dinner. Mycroft responds via phone the next day, confirming his and your parents' attendance at this growing Christmas party.

The day of the surprise comes all too quickly.

You dress that day in a white blouse, a bold, crimson suit coat, and matching trousers. Just as you’re buttoning your blouse, you hear a knock on your bedroom door.

“Come in!” You call as you finish the last button and turn to see William closing the door behind him.

“Are you ready?” He asks, and you shake your head almost immediately.

“I never am when it comes to my parents.” You say honestly, and he offers a smile that you like to think is reserved just for you. It crinkles the corners of his eyes and curls his lips rather attractively. You smile back and then head to the bathroom connected to your bed chambers for your jewelry box.

It was William’s wedding present to you. A beautiful cherry wood box that contained jewelry you had collected over the years. Most of it was gifts from the locals you had gone on expeditions to.

But…

There was one piece of jewelry that was not a gift to them.

And that was your wedding band.

It was a plain gold band, nothing too extravagant. Just the way you wanted it. And while it was simple and nondescript, you only wore it if you were going to events with William as his wife. He wore a matching one for the same reasons. And he slid his onto his ring finger just as you did the same for yours. Then, your husband extends a hand.

“Shall we go downstairs to greet your family? Sherlock is already in the parlor, and we are expecting everyone else soon enough.”

Your parents arrive just as it’s beginning to snow outside.

Mycroft is watching disapprovingly as you coo over baby Clara, John, and Mary’s baby girl. She’s almost a year old and already starting to crawl and toddle about. You could practically smell his disapproval of your outfit, but you paid him no mind. Once this announcement is done with, you never have to speak to him again.

Your parents burst into the parlor, spooking you and Clara. The baby girl starts to whimper, so you hand her back to Mary and go to greet your parents.

“Oh, dearest, couldn’t you wear the Christmas dress we purchased for you this year?” Your mother says immediately as you approach, and your face sours.

“Well, hello to you too, Mother.” You grumble but give her a hug nonetheless. Your father extends his hand, and you shake it. Luckily, it was your right hand, so you simply kept your left with the ring in your trouser pocket.

“If I might interrupt,” Comes William’s smooth voice, and you jump. You hadn't heard him come up behind you. “Dinner is served.” He finishes and ushers everyone to the dining room. He offers a comforting smile, and you reach out boldly to squeeze his hand.

He doesn’t pull away. At least not until you reach the dining room and have to separate to sit with your respective families.

Dinner was brought out, and just before everyone dug in, William stood and tapped his spoon against his wine glass.

“Before everyone tucks in, we have an announcement to make.” He says, making eye contact with you, and you realize very quickly what he is doing.

It’s time.

Your heart starts thundering like horses in your veins, and you hear blood roaring in your ears. But you get up and make your way around the table to his side and take his hand just as he says,

“I suppose I should say my wife and I have an announcement to make.”

It’s silent for a beat. Then two.

Then noise.

Your mother promptly bursts into tears. Whether out of happiness or disappointment, you have no idea. Your father grew red in the face and nearly started shouting before he remembered his manners. Mycroft simply sits back in his seat, stunned into silence. Sherlock’s face broke into a brilliant grin.

“I knew it!” He crowed and slammed his hand down on the table happily.

You stand awkwardly as you wait for the noise to die down. William doesn’t let go of your hand the entire time. But… eventually… your parents get their emotions under control.

“Absolutely not! I will not have you associating with someone as stained a reputation as the Moriartys!” Your father bellows, and you hold back a flinch. It wasn’t often he got this angry. And, of course, you knew what “stained reputation” your father was talking about. The burning of the Moriarty estate back when they were mere children had been quite the scandal. You remembered hearing about it when you were but a tiny tot.

“You asked that I marry. I did. So now you have no right to judge whom I court, much less marry. I expect my dowry is still in your hands? And that you’ll keep your promise?” You say quickly, curtly, emotionlessly. You didn’t have the patience for his antics right now. He wanted you to marry in order to fund your excavations but didn’t want you to marry certain people? Where was the logic in that? And your family was all about logic.

“Please, dearest, think about what you’ve done! To marry into the Moriarty family is to stain our family name!” Your mother pleads, but you just roll your eyes.

“I don’t see you chastising Sherlock about his choice of friends.” You snap back and very nearly leave right then and there.

William is the only thing keeping you here. You can feel the tears burning as they threaten to fall. You just wanted your family to be happy for you. Was that too much to ask?

“That’s different!” Your father all but shouts, and you watch your husband raise an eyebrow.

“Pray tell me how it is any different?” He says, and you shiver at his frosty tone of voice.

“She’s a woman! That’s reason enough!” Your mother blubbers, dabbing at her falling tears with a handkerchief. Now, it’s William’s turn to roll his eyes. He takes a moment, entwining your fingers together as he looks at the ceiling.

“Your daughter is perfectly capable of marrying whom she wishes. This is precisely why we didn’t say anything when we married nearly thirteen months ago.”

That sentence sends your father into another shouting fit.

“Thirteen months?!” He roars, and William smirks, letting go of your hand in order to lean both palms on the table.

“Yes, quite right. And you will listen closely to my next words.” He said smoothly, and your parents both went silent. Mycroft still has yet to say anything, and Sherlock is simply sitting back in his chair with a shit-eating grin on his face.

William leans back once again to take your hand.

“You will fulfill your promise to your daughter. And hand over her dowry. Though we have little need for the money. But imagine the scandal that would erupt if you didn’t?” Your mother swallows audibly, and your father glares at your husband. He looks back cooly, not backing down.

In the end, William wins the little starring contest, and your father averts his eyes.

“Fine.” He growls, and William smiles,

“I’m glad we could come to an understanding. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I am going to go comfort my wife.” He says and gently turns you around to head for the dining room doors.

“Wait, Liam.” Sherlock’s voice breaks through your raging emotions, and you stop, turning to face the middle child of the Holmes family. Your husband turns and looks at him,

“Yes?” Sherlock stands, that same smile on his face as he studies the two of you. “Was your marriage the only announcement you had to make?” He asks innocently, and you glare at him.

Of course, he knew already.

William hums briefly before his lips curled in a devious grin,

“Oh yes, I almost forgot.” He says and puts a hand on the small of your back.

“We are expecting.” He says and leaves your brothers to deal with your dramatic parents once again.

#william james moriarty x reader #william james moriarty x you #william james moriarty x y/n #moriarty x reader #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #ynm x reader #moriarty the patriot x reader #william james moriarty #ynm william

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zablife · 7 months

Text

Mary the Helpful Housekeeper

Requested by @appare--vestigium for my 2K celebration An Evening at Arrow House. Warning: This is a dark fic 💀

You woke with a splitting headache, the blinding sliver of sunlight peeking through the curtains only adding to your pain. You reached out for your cigarettes, but your body was sluggish and unresponsive to your commands, only succeeding in knocking over the Bible the staff had given you as a wedding gift. With a huff of frustration, you fell back against the plush comfort of the feather down pillows, wondering if it had been the copious amounts of wine at dinner or your late night of passionate lovemaking causing your fatigue. Placing a hand over your eyes, you called out to Tommy to see how he was faring, but received no answer.

Your eyelids slipped close once more, too heavy to keep open and suddenly a bizarre dream resurfaced from the recesses of your mind. You flinched at the haunting memory of an intruder which now seemed unquestionably real. You were certain you’d witnessed a shadowy figure scurrying forth from the darkness to loom over you and Tommy, a pleading voice whispering in your ear to repent.

Before you could bring forth any other details, you heard the door of your bedroom creaking against its ancient hinges and you gasped loudly, eyes snapping open in fear. A slight figure rounded the corner with a breakfast tray, tilting her head to examine you curiously. “Is something wrong, ma’am?” Mary asked, placing the food at your side.

“No…yes,” you corrected yourself rubbing your temples in tight circles. “I’m not feeling very well. My head is aching and I’ve had the strangest dream,” you confided, though you weren’t sure she was the right person to tell. Where Tommy saw professionalism, you perceived nothing but coldness in her demeanor.

“Oh, what about?” she inquired, busying herself opening the curtains.

“Nothing….nonsense really,” you admitted, dismissing the ludicrous idea the moment the soothing warmth of the tea cup radiated against your palm.

The rhythmic clicking of Mary’s footsteps against the hardwood stopped abruptly, her voice straining a note higher as she advised, “I wouldn’t be so quick to forget. Your dreams can tell you a great deal.”

“I doubt that,” you snorted.

Mary drew the last curtain back with more force than necessary. The golden rings holding the heavy drapery crashed against the rod with a harsh clang, forcing you to turn. “Mary!” you exclaimed in shock and annoyance.

“My apologies, ma’am. I do hope you recover from what ails you,” she said in somber monotone before hurrying from the room.

You rolled your eyes at her unsympathetic tone, a long sigh escaping your lips as you attempted to move the heavy tray. Wincing in pain, your eyes fell to your left arm and the bright red mark that had seemingly appeared overnight. You traced the tender flesh at the crease of your elbow with your fingertips, wondering what sort of insect could have bitten you. It left you disgusted at the thought of something in your bedding and you demanded the room be given an immediate cleaning. Of course, Mary deemed it unnecessary, stressing her thorough routine.

Despite winning the battle of wills, you felt a certain unease that would carry through the day until you were tucked safely beneath your husband’s arm at bedtime. Only then did you give an account of your unusual morning and the difficulties with his housekeeper.

“Tommy, honestly, I don’t know why you keep her around,” you grumbled.

Tommy shrugged as he leaned over to extinguish his cigarette in the ashtray. “She’s loyal and hardworking, Y/n. Not to mention a skilled nurse. She patched up Arthur and me more than once without saying a word to the coppers,” he noted. “And she never complains. Always answers the bell, no matter how late,” he added with a satisfied nod.

“So she’s in love with you,” you teased, looking over at him with a wicked smile and playfully raised eyebrow. “The maid who answers the bell after midnight is always in love with the master.”

“Is that right?” Tommy asked, mischief dancing in his eyes. “It’s after midnight now, Mrs. Shelby, would you care to see to my needs?” he countered, moving your hand down his toned chest toward the growing bulge in his shorts. You giggled as he leaned down to kiss you, pushing every thought of insubordinate servants from your mind. By the time he’d finished with you, you were thoroughly exhausted and fell into a peaceful slumber by his side.

The next thing you remembered, the clock in the hall chimed four, a chill blowing through the room. Your heavy eyes struggled to open, nonetheless you swore there was something at the corner of your vision, moving stealthily toward you. You felt your heart knock against your ribs urgently and you willed yourself to scream, but found your tongue caught in your throat. Likewise, your limbs remained stuck and lifeless by your side. Tommy, Tommy, Tommy…please wake up, you silently pleaded, wishing he could hear your desperate thoughts.

A whisper drifted toward your ear, hissing like a serpent ready to strike. “But if they confess their iniquity and the iniquity of their fathers in their treachery that they committed against me, and also in walking contrary to me, so that I walked contrary to them and brought them into the land of their enemies-if they then their uncircumcised heart is humbled and they make amends for their iniquity then I will remember…” Words tumbled out, one upon another as your eyes adjusted in the darkness.

Then a leather bound book came into view, held by bony hands. You felt fear clawing at your spine as a pair of bulging blue irises peeked over the edges of the volume in an icy stare. The recitation stopped the moment your eyes locked, a hint of recognition flickering like the flame of a candle before it was snuffed out. A sudden blur of motion overtook your senses as the figure turned in haste, leaving you to fall back into a tunnel of confusion, haze descending upon you like a thick fog.

The next morning, your headache returned and with it intense paranoia. Luckily, Tommy was there to tend to you. He stroked your cheek with his thumb, a pained look upon his brow as he studied you with concern. “We’ll get a doctor if you need to speak to someone about your nightmares, love,” he reassured you.

“They’re not dreams, Tommy! What I've seen is real!" you insisted. Biting your lip you added hesitantly, "I think it’s Mary. I swear it was her last night,” you said, clutching onto his sleeve, needing to be close to him.

“Where, darling?” he asked, beginning to worry for your sanity.

“Here! In our room, standing over our bed,” you stressed, tugging on him insistently. You searched his eyes to see if he believed you and found nothing but a blank stare.

Tommy shook his head gently and hushed you as he pushed the hair from your face. “You’re overtired. All the preparations for the party,” he reasoned. “I’ll stay in the guest room tonight. Give you a chance to rest,” he said, placing a kiss to the top of your head with such tenderness you began to cry.

“Tommy, please don’t leave me,” you sniffed. “I’m afraid,” you confided in a whisper.

“Of Mary?” he asked with a chuckle. “Now I know you could use some sleep. Who could be afraid of a little old woman, eh?”

—————-

Two weeks later…

“What’s wrong with her? Thought you was going to have a party?” a gruff voice echoed down the hall.

“She’s not well, brother,” your husband rasped, concern laced in his voiced.

“What’s she got?” his brother demanded.

“I’m not sure,” Tommy replied, exhaustion evident in his tone. “But she says Mary's to blame.”

“Mary? She’s a good Christian woman, Tom! What’s she got to do with this?”

Tommy sighed, “I wish I knew.”

Although you tried to prop yourself up on the pillows to hear the rest of their conversation, you were unable to manage it. You’d become far too weak in recent days. Your arms were now covered in tiny red blemishes which were beginning to scab over. You shifted the blankets to cover them, ashamed of the indelicate way your skin had bruised by whatever was afflicting you.

When Tommy opened the door to your bedroom, you offered a weak smile when he asked, “How’s my girl?”

You didn’t feel like his girl anymore, you knew dark circles painted the hollows of your eyes and your cheeks sunk in unattractively, but you tried to put on a brave face for the man you loved. “I’m alright,” you said, attempting a small smile. Your visits with Tommy were the highlight of your otherwise drab and listless days.

“That’s good. You get to feeling better and we’ll start to discuss our wedding party, yeah?” he offered encouragingly.

“I’d like that,” you answered, though the hope of returning to a normal life seemed to be slipping further from your grasp with each passing day.

“I’ll have a maid draw your bath,” Tommy said, placing a kiss to your lips before turning to leave.

“Not her!” you reminded him, voice as loud and clear as you could manage.

Tommy stopped at the door, one hand on the frame as he exhaled loudly. “No, of course not.”

“Thank you,” you called out, feeling like a burden and a disappointment.

——————-

With the steam from the bath having dissipated and the water turning tepid, you looked over your shoulder for your favorite silk robe. “Clara, could you help me?” you called out, settling back against the edge as you waited.

Eyes closed in one last moment of peaceful solitude, you inhaled the soothing lavender bath salts, leaving an arm extended for your towel. Just then a hand grasped your forearm immobilizing you, a momentary sting caused you to thrash in the water. As the crashing waves spilled onto the tile floor, you were only vaguely aware of the splash as it hit. You felt your body sink into the water, arms slipping from the porcelain edges as your muscles went weak. The piercing blue irises from your nightmares watched you, but this time you were lucid enough to attach them to a body, the ginger haired woman you’d suspected all along.

“M-mary?” you mumbled, lips and tongue tingling strangely. She held a hand over your mouth, her eyebrows twitching with fury.

“When will you ever listen? You sinful woman,” she berated you in a low voice.

You searched her eyes, but the effect of whatever she’d given you was quickly altering your senses. You watched as her face began to melt into a blur, using all your effort to concentrate on her words.

“Mr. Shelby was turning his life around before you came. The orphanages, housing for the poor,” she explained, voice cracking with emotion. “But you’ve distracted him from his work. All he speaks of now are hedonistic pleasures. Your influence, no doubt,” she hissed.

You let out a muffled cry, barely able to breathe, and she jerked her hand away as though she were the one who had been harmed. She looked at her hand fearfully. “I’m no murderer. I’m here to save your soul,” she said with a vigorous nod of her head.

She stood, smoothing her apron as if reminded why she'd come in the first place. Taking a small Bible from the bathroom sink, she licked her index finger before finding her place from the night before.

She cleared her throat so as to compose herself, standing straight as an arrow, chin held high. “Leviticus 18…” she began in a controlled voice you recognized from your nightmares. Your eyes slipped close, a tear running down your cheek as you realized it had been all too real.

-----------

Tag List:

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@alanadetigy

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

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@thomashelbyswife

#Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby fanfic #Tommy Shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby #Tommy Shelby x you #Tommy Shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby x y/n #zablife 2k celebration

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runnning-outof-time · 2 years

Note

Congratulations on two thousand followers I remember your first stories! I’m requesting “ i got you a blanket. ” with Tommy cos I love your fluff

Awe, anon!! I appreciate you for sticking around from the beginning!! 🥹🥹 thanks for sending something in for my celebration!

Want to help me celebrate hitting 2K followers?? Check out this post for the details - ends Oct. 8th!

A Morning in Bed

Tommy Shelby

Warnings: none

(Y/N) re-enters her bedroom to find her boys sharing a rather sweet moment. Instead of standing by and watching, she decides to join in.

Stepping out of the shower, (Y/N) wrapped a towel tightly around her body to stop the cold air from nipping her skin. She made sure she was dried off before she moved over to the bathroom’s counter, where she’d laid out the clothes she planned on wearing that day.

After quickly changing into them and making sure that her hair was as dry as possible, she exited the en-suite to see if her husband had woke up yet. It was one of those extremely rare days that she found him still laying next to her when she opened her eyes, so she thought it best to let him be. But she was met with a completely different sight from what she expected as she emerged from the connecting hallway.

Tommy was propped up against the headboard of the bed with their one and a half year old son sitting next to him. He had one of the toddler’s stuffed horses in his hand, and he was making faint whinnying noises as he made the animal walk over his son’s legs.

(Y/N) swore that her heart could burst right there. Here was the big, bad Tommy Shelby sitting in bed making animal sounds with his son. She was convinced that she saw a side of him that no other person has seen before, or will see in the future.

She was so wrapped up in her thoughts of her husband that she didn’t even realize that he’d figured out she was in the room. “Hey, mumma,” he greeted her, a lazy smile on his face as his eyes found hers.

“Hi, Tommy,” she responded, her words coming out rather bashfully, “when did Charles come in?”

“While you were in the shower,” he answered as he continued making the horse move on their child’s lap. The toddler seemed to be very occupied with the movements of the stuffed animal; so much so that he didn’t even notice his mother’s presence.

“Did he walk in?” she gasped, immediately feeling like her heart sunk. He was just on the cusp of being able to travel a bit of distance without toppling over, and it saddened (Y/N) to think that she’d missed his attempts.

“No,” Tommy answered her with a slight chuckle, probably because of the baffled look on her face, “Mary brought him in,” he told her then.

“You could have gotten me,” she said then, now feeling bad that he had to get out of bed.

“I didn’t mind taking him, love,” he brushed her statement off, “we’re having a grand time here anyways,” he added as he glanced over at Charlie, who now had the nose of the horse in his mouth. (Y/N) smiled at her boys before she turned on her heel and walked back into the connecting hallway their room had. “Where ya going, (Y/N)?” Tommy called for her, confused as to why she’d just left.

(Y/N) didn’t respond, but instead opened the doors to the small linen closet that the short hallway held. She looked over the various sheets and towels, scanning each shelf until she found what she was looking for. She grabbed it off the shelf and hugged it in her arms, enjoying the softness of it before she walked back into the bedroom area. Tommy’s eyes fell onto her again as she moved over to his side of the bed, where she finally held open the knitted blanket that had been given to them as a gift after Charlie was born.

“You looked cold,” she stated as she began the process of unfolding it, “I got you a blanket,” she added as she then draped it over his topless torso. Tommy chuckled at her actions, but accepted the gift she’d brought him. The morning air was starting to nip at his skin, but he didn’t have the heart to move Charlie so that he’d be able to pull the covers up higher on his body. The toddler was dressed in one of his winter sleepsuits because, according to (Y/N), the temperatures were starting to drop at night now that it was officially fall, so he was fine with the coolness of the room.

“Thanks, love,” he grinned at his wife, who sent the widest smile back to him, “now c’mere…join us,” he nodded his head to her side of the bed, which had only partially been taken up by Charlie.

“I was supposed to meet with Mary to discuss working situations going further…” she trailed off, making it sound like she was really considering whether she should join him or not, “but I guess she wouldn’t mind waiting.”

“Course she wouldn’t…you’re the lady of this house. Let her wait,” Tommy doubled down on her statement, his grin growing as she made her way around the bed so that she was able to get in on her side.

She quickly found that she had the same struggle as Tommy when she tried to pull the covers up and only got them to her waist. “Hi, Charlie,” she greeted the toddler, who’d only just now taken an interest in his mother being present. She kissed the side of his head before handing back the stuffed animal he’d given her seconds ago, but was reaching out for. She then found Tommy’s hand that was resting behind their son and took hold of it, interlacing their fingers together as she smiled over at him.

“That’s better, isn’t it?” Tommy questioned her, his grin still present.

“Much,” (Y/N) nodded in agreement with him, “a morning in bed is never a morning wasted,” she added, expressing her happiness for being able to share this moment with her little family. “Although I think you’re going to need to share some of that blanket…I’m starting to get cold,” she then said after a few moments had passed.

Tommy chuckled as he took some of the excess blanket and reached over to lay it on her body. (Y/N) scooted closer to the middle of the bed as he did so, ensuring that Charlie was also included in their new bubble of warmth as they spent the morning together.

———

Tagged: @mgcllovdrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @golden-hoax @elenavampire21 @peaky-cillian @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @easilyobessedbutflighty @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @lovemissyhoneybee

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby blurb #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders blurb #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #root2kfollowercelebration

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starlight-starfury · 4 months

Text

Under Starlit Boughs

Book: Blades of Light and Shadow

Characters: (F!Elf!MC) Raine Nightbloom x Tyril Starfury

Rating: General

Warnings: None, but I’ll warn you it’s unapologetically sappy 😅

Length: 2k

Summary: After talking about the old parties of legend, the Fae realise they finally have cause to throw one of their own.

Tags: @liviusofpella @watatsumi-island @inlocusmads @lilyoffandoms @brycesgirl @sophie-summer @lancelotsimp @megas-choices @princess-geek @julia-highstorms @citrusdarling @mavidraws @lover-also-fighter-also @otakudreamer @stars-are-within-me @mari-lwyd-fannibal-blog @camillyohfreire @mindlesschicca @queen-arabella-of-cordonia @choicesficwriterscreations (tagging everyone who interacted with this post, if anyone wants to be added to the tag-list permanently please let me know! I’ll be making a post about it in a few days as well 💜)

A/N: Because we deserved a cute Whimsywood date 🫶

A song of laughter echoed in the air as everyone sat crowded together under the shade of the pearl petal tree, telling stories and sharing fruits that tasted of sweet mallow and fine dew.

Even the forest seemed to find wonder in the joyous occasion as the trees sent forth a gentle breeze, causing the flowering boughs above to sway and the soft petals to cascade down around the storytellers like light rainfall.

As the Fae reminisced over tales passed down from their ancestors about the Light realm, questions began to arise, and Tyril spoke. “Stories of your parties have become legend in our world. What were they really like?”

“That was long before I sprouted,” the Fae Elder answered, silent throughout the conversation but now smiling fondly at the memory. “But I heard the tales from my elders. They spoke of intricate fashion, delectable foods and wine that tasted of Light.”

“You mean to say, you’ve never thrown one yourselves?” Raine asked.

Willow shook their head. “Very few of us remain, and we’ve no cause to celebrate of late. Not with Shadow lurking so close.”

“Of course you do!” She said. “You’ve been trapped in the shadow realm for centuries, isn’t returning to your homeland worth celebrating?”

The Fae whispered and hummed amongst themselves for a moment, their murmurs like the faint rustling of leaves amid the forest undergrowth before they leapt to their feet enthusiastically.

“Raine is right!” Willow declared, beaming. “Let us all rejoice. To returning to the realm of Light, and to honour our new friends who will help ward our forest from the Shadow!”

The glade seemed to thrum with excitement as everyone stood and the Fae began making their preparations. Raine made her way over to Tyril, who had leant against one of the ancient trees and was gazing around at the magical clearing, awestruck.

“I see some things never change,” she grinned. “I’m glad you finally got to meet the Fae, Tyril.”

A smile touched his lips as she reached his side. “I suppose I have you to thank for that.”

He nodded back to the forest, where multicoloured orbs of light drifted through the air like fireflies. “It’s incredible that a place so vibrant and full of life can exist in a world such as this.”

Raine looked towards the enchanted scenery, admiring how the trees seemed to bend and dip their branches in greeting to the Fae as they walked past, and how the glowing flowers bloomed in clusters like starlit nebulae below. It made her mind drift back to the Deadwood, the decayed forest merely remnants of a distant memory compared to the magical sight before her.

“Well,” she said at last, “if all this travelling has taught me anything, it’s that beauty often thrives in chaos.”

Tyril’s eyes softened as his gaze shifted to her new attire. She looked like a forest nymph or woodland goddess in the sylvan dress, woven of emerald silk and flowing gossamer that shimmered like dappled sunlight alongside the entwined branches climbing across her fair skin. A crown of leaves was nestled in her hair, and her eyes shone violet as the wisteria blossoms above.

“It does, indeed.” His smile was tender as he reached up to gently cup her cheek and she swayed into his touch, his words a faint whisper against her skin. “Even the stars envy the brightness at which you shine.”

His sentiments were proven true as she beamed under his praise, but before she could answer him the Fae returned to the clearing all at once, and the moment was disturbed like ripples spreading across the surface of a tranquil pond.

“Come, come!” Willow beckoned, and the group reconvened beneath the pearl petal tree once more.

Raine noticed some of the Fae were holding instruments, elegant wooden flutes with budding sprouts that appeared to have been carved from the branches of a fallen tree.

“Is this one of your traditions?” She asked.

“Yes!” Tansy clapped. “The Fae Circle is one of our oldest celebrations, with much music and dancing!”

“Hang on, a Fae Circle?” Mal said before turning to the rest of the group, voice hushed. “Are you sure this isn’t just a trick to keep us here forever?”

“Mal!” Nia scolded. “Don’t be rude!”

“What, haven’t you heard the legends? Mortals who entered a Fae circle were never seen again.”

Imtura followed his gaze pointedly towards where a series of petrified faces were engraved in the bark of a large tree. “…Those aren’t just carvings, are they?”

Willow’s large eyes saddened, a swirling mist shimmering within the dark pupils. “They came to harm our forest, but the trees are our home and family. They would have plucked us from the soil one by one and uprooted everything!”

Raine leant in to whisper to Tyril. “Is all of this true?”

He nodded slowly. “I’ve said before that the Fae are made of magic down to their very essence. That power can become wild and unrestrained if provoked, and it sounds as though they’ve been a target in the shadow realm for some time.”

The nearby Fae’s ears began to droop as Willow continued speaking. “We try to strengthen our roots and bloom despite our hardships, but the trees cast a heavy shadow, and our numbers grow smaller still.”

Raine frowned. “You won’t have to worry about that in the Light realm, we’ll make sure no one harms your forest.”

Willow’s eyes brightened once more at her encouragement. “We cannot thank you enough! Please understand, the Fae Circle is an act of joy and all will be safe. And since you have come to help us, the forest will always remember you as friends.”

Tansy nodded. “The trees also like it when we play music to them, their boughs are always lighter and their leaves shine bright.”

“How does the Fae Circle start?” Tyril asked, and those holding instruments sat themselves upon the grass, lifting their flutes as they began playing a delicate yet jubilant tune.

“Everyone must stand in a circle around the tree and hold hands!” Willow said cheerfully, and Raine smiled as Tyril entwined his fingers with hers.

The rest of the Fae were the ones who began leading the dance, and the others quickly picked up the unfamiliar steps. It wasn’t long before everyone found themselves spinning and twirling around the pearl petal tree in unison.

Laughter filled the air once more, and the sweet petals drifted down around them as though joining in the dance as well until everyone was rosy-cheeked and breathless.

The celebration carried on through brief respites, sharing refreshing drinks between dances and telling stories both old and new. For once, both the realms were united in their joy, and together they could help the Fae create a brighter future for their people, and for each other.

When all the air had escaped her lungs, Raine wandered towards the edge of the glade to catch her breath. It wasn’t long until Tyril found his way to her side, and together they both sat down on a fallen, moss-covered log.

She looked up to where the branches of the great trees parted to reveal the vast night sky, an expanse of darkness that seemed impenetrable by even the brightest light, unusually empty and bare.

“There are no stars here,” she murmured. Without them, the sky felt hollow, like a canvas lying blank. No famed hero’s legacies lied etched across the surface, no constellations adorned the sky shimmering with stories still untold, no glimmer of hope was to be found in the endless dark that stretched on eternal.

“Then we make our own.” Tyril said, before he cupped his hands and little motes of starlight drifted from his fingers into the air. The colourful specks hovered there for a moment, emitting a soft glow that pulsed in unison with the rhythm of their beating hearts before rising up to settle themselves among the lush branches.

“They’re beautiful.” She smiled and they both sat quietly for a moment, feeling more at ease in a realm full of chaos and uncertainty while in each other’s presence, watching as the lights twinkled softly above.

“Do you find it strange? Seeing a sky without them?” Raine asked.

He nodded slowly. “In Undermount we revere the stars, our very existence is mirrored in their being. The history of our people is written among them, with each great victory and tragedy carved into the constellations like a woven tapestry to display all we have been through, and all that is to come.”

Tyril lifted his gaze past the tree branches. “To imagine a place without their existence feels…wrong.”

She looked down, subconsciously beginning to rub her wrist. The skin where her bindings had been was red and raw, another reminder that she had allowed herself to be captured, that she had been weak.

A frown creased his expression as he glanced at her hands, but his voice was gentle when he spoke. “None of us blame you for what happened.”

“And what if I blame myself?” She whispered, tears beginning to pool in her eyes. “Everyone went through so much because of me, especially you…”

Raine trailed off as he slowly lifted her hand to his mouth, pressing soft kisses to the inside of her wrist, each brush of his lips lighter than a butterfly’s wings.

She dipped her head as her cheeks flushed light pink, warming under his gaze before he pulled her into his arms and she leant her head to rest against his shoulder.

He murmured into her hair. “I couldn’t protect you last time and I…I blamed myself every day you were gone because of it.”

“Tyril…” she frowned. “None of that was your fault.”

“I know, but that does not change the fact that I failed you.” His eyes filled with sorrow as he traced a finger along her jaw, tilting her chin to look at him. “Every day my heart ached for your return. To see you again, even if you were but a fragment of a dream…”

She let the tears fall as she pressed her lips softly to his, overcome by emotion as she ran her fingers through his raven hair, longer than she remembered. His kiss held all his heartache and remorse from that painful year before he leant back, resting his forehead against her own.

They stayed that way until a softer tune began to play from the more lively part of the forest, and Raine threaded her fingers through his. “May I?”

“Always,” he smiled as she led him to his feet, the two of them alone in their own section of the woods. “Do you remember the first time we did this?”

“Danced?” She asked, and a pleasant night breeze surrounded them as Tyril guided her into position. “You mean at the masquerade?”

He nodded. “Sometimes that feels like a lifetime ago, as though everything has changed since then.”

“And yet, nothing at all.” She said, her voice quiet and tinged with sorrow.

His gaze was far away for a moment before he looked back towards her once more. “Never mind that now, all that matters is having you back in my arms.”

“And there's no place I'd rather be,” she smiled.

He spun her into a graceful twirl before pulling her back in close, and they swayed together gently as the song slowly faded into the next.

They danced until Raine found herself backed against one of the grand oak trees, and when she looked up she could still see the little stars Tyril had summoned earlier hovering among the branches, some of them twinkling as though they were shooting across the sky.

“I like having our own little universe,” she said, and the bark was rough against her fingertips as he leaned in for a kiss once again, like a blazing star that would sooner collapse than part from her touch.

“The night sky is ours,” he assured, and the rest of the forest seemed to melt away under his embrace, until it was just the two of them dancing beneath their stars above.

#may i provide some fluff in these trying times (ch18 aftermath)#choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #blades of light and shadow #tyril starfury #tyril x mc #raine nightbloom #tyril x raine #playchoices #playchoices fanfic #choices stories you play

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violaobanion · 1 year

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MARIE ANTOINETTE + PINK 2006, dir. Sofia Coppola

requested by @springsteens

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saintchaser · 1 year

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HI HAPPY 2K YOU DESERVE IT AND SO MUCH MORE

✒ with marylily "i'm never gonna love again" if it works for you

"i can't come in the war with you," mary said, and it was like she was slipping between lily's fingers. all they had, all the nights, all the cigarettes, all the stifled laughs, were they all gone now?

she nodded, although her heart ached and cried for mary. "i understand your decision." it wasn't like she didn't, she absolutely did, she wanted to run away and hide, and she was scared, so scared, yet there was something stopping her.

"i'm never going to love again." a part of lily wished it was true. a part of her wished that mary would never love anyone the way she loved her, that she'd never share what they shared with anyone else.

"you don't have to say that," lily said, and it's bitter.

"it's true, though." mary laughed, ugly and sad. "there will never be anyone i will love as much as i loved you. but it's time to part ways. goodbye, lily, my love."

mary leaves her alone, and it was bittersweet, really.

#AND THANK YOU SO MUCH <333 #SORRY I MADE IT ANGSTY I COULDN'T HELP IT </3 #queerdeadwizards's 2k celebration #lily evans #mary macdonald #marylily #marylily angst #my writing #asks #✒ ask

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intensid4d · 1 year

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The Loss - Kaz Carney x Reader

hi, took me long enough :) this is a request, hope you like it!

not proof read, against/fluff, 2k of words

......

Playing for the national team was one of your biggest dreams, so when you got the e-mail saying that you were belling called to defend the Lionesses in the Euros you were really happy, and so were your wife, Kaz Carney.

When you left she made a promise she would go to every game, working or not. And she kept her promise. You were really focused, so you didn’t call her that much or give her all the attetion you wanted but she always texted you a good luck every pre match.

To say it wasn’t some gasoline to your fire was a lie. You were in your highest playing for Arsenal and for the Lionesses and you were married with the love of your live. She was everything you ever wanted, even with the diferences you always made it work.

And with that the Lionesses have made it to the final, with you into the starting eleven.

When the day of the final match came, you had a quick call with Kaz, her helping you to calm at

“You had an amazing tournament, you got this! Enjoy your time, baby. I love you so much and I’m very proud of you. See you later!” She said before hanging up.

“You know, I’m so happy you both found each other. You deserve it, deserve to be happy.” Your roommate Ellen White says, getting out of the bathroom.

“I’m lucky to have her, for real.” You smile softly and she laughs a little.

“Stop being so stupidly in love and get ready.” You give her your middle finger and go change.

You didn’t know why, but you had been feeling really nervous about this match. Maybe it was because it was your first final with the Lionesses.

When the whistle blew you left everything behind and just started doing what you did best that’s playing football. You played with everything you had on you.

And when you got the ball from Leah and saw Alessia making the run, you just waited for the perfect moment then send her the ball. When it went to he back of the net you just jumped with your arms up, all too happy.

You spot your family, your wife and hers family on the stands, they all celebrating. Your smile couldn’t be bigger.

So when the whistle blew ending the first half not so long after the goal, you’re quick to make your way to the dressing room. Everyone’s really happy to be ahead but still knew that now Germany would come with every strength they had.

And so they did. England couldn’t see what was coming they way. The second half being completely different from the first. You did everything you could to keep them away from the box. But right into the 65’ Magull scored from a corner kick.

You were determined to win and start cheering the girls. You were sure you could to this.

Unless you couldn’t.

It was 85’ when Lina gets the ball and make a run somehow getting past Lucy and Leah that you make your way into the box, making sure to be on the way of Lea Schüller to intercept the ball.

What you didn’t expect is to Lina herself kicks the ball to the goal, Mary managing to get t he ball but it cames back and hits your knee before going into the back of the net. You gave Germany an own goal.

You get on your knee with your hands on your face.

It’s now 2x1 to Germany.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry...” It’s all you managed to say. Keira is the one who came put you in your feets and hugs you.

“It’s not your fault, let’s keep going.” She squeezes you and you both go back to your position.

When the final whistle blew you couldn’t see the look of disappointment of your teammates and fans, you just sit on the pitch with your hands covering your face. You tried your best not to cry in front of everyone, but you didn’t see to have control of yourself anymore. You don’t even know when you started crying just realising it when all your body began to shake with the intensity of the crying.

You did everything you could. You chased every ball and it simple wasn’t enough, you did your best, tried every shot, every trick, every pass, everything and yet you gave them a goal. Their winning goal. It was your fault England didn’t make it.

It’s Ellen White who comes to you, hugging you tight.

“Shhh... It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault. You played with all you had, it was really beautiful to see the way you were fighting so hard. I’m proud of you, Y/n Y/l/n.” She says while holding you. You stay like that for a while, until your body stops shaking.

Knowing you couldn’t run forever you stand up and give Ellen another hug as a silent thank you. Others players come to you, both your teammates and Germany players as well. All of them hugging you and trying to say things to you but you don’t stay long on the field, you take a look at the stands searching for Kaz, when your eyes meet you can see the worry on her. You give her a sad smile and make your way to her. You could see both of your families had a sad smile and a look of worry on their faces.

When you get to them, you give everyone a quick hug trying your best to no cry again in front of them. But it’s impossible for you not to break down again when Kaz wraps you in her arms, you hide your face on her neck.

“Let’s go home.” She says to you and give your families a look. You nod and wipe your tears to hug them again before going home with your wife.

You hold back your tears all the way home, Kaz making sure to always be touching you (knowing that physical touch is your love language).

“How about you take a shower while I cook us something?” She asks hugging you for behind and leaving a kiss on your shoulder.

“Yeah... I think that would be great.” You turn around so you can face her. She kisses your forehead. “I love you.” She says and you give her a small sad smile then go take a shower.

After 30 minutes you get out of the bathroom and put some pijamas short and an old Kaz’s jersey. You found her on the kitchen, having just finish making some pasta.

“Hey, beautiful. Come here.” She opens her arms and you go to her, hiding your face on her neck smelling her. “Let’s eat on the couch then cuddle.” You nod, but don’t let go of her, alredy starting to cry again. She squeezes you on her arms.

“I’m so sorry I let you down... I let everyone down, it’s all my fault...” You don’t know how nor when, but she had picked you up in her arms and carried to the couch, now you were laying in top of her.

“It isn’t your fault. God, you played like you had some gasoline and were on fire. You did everything you could, Darling. It wasn’t just you on the field. And for that last goal, a German player was right behind you, if it didn’t hit you she would get it for sure.” She starts running circles on your back. “You don’t have to be sorry for anything, I’m very proud of you and I hope you can be too, you are an amazing player.”

You stay silent just listening to her speaking, also enjoying having her arms around you. You finally started feeling safe. Soon you were asleep in her arms due to exhaustion from the game, the crying, the emotional.

The next morning you wake up in your bed to the smell of something burning, you get up fast and go see what it’s going on. When you get to the kitchen you see Kaz making pancakes, but obviously this one gone wrong.

“Shit, shit, shit!” She says while putting it on the garbage can. You stand on the doorway and laugh at her antics.

“So now you’re laughing at me.” She turns to you and cross hers arms in front of her chest, you come closer and give her a peck on the lips.

“Are you trying to burn the entire house down?” She slaps your arm playfully.

“I have already made a plenty of those, that was the last one. I was going to bring it to bed for you but now I think I’ll eat it all.” She grabs the pancakes and goes to the couch, you following right behind.

“No, you won’t.” She puts the pancakes on the stand and you’re quick to sit on her lap with your back on her.

“You’re right, I won’t.” She says on your ear and gives it a little kiss making you shiver. You both start eating in silente, just enjoying having each other glued at the hip.

“How are you feeling?” The older woman kisses your cheek as she finishes eating.

“A little bit better. Thank you.” You turn to look in her eyes.

“Wanna go take a walk?” She cups your cheek as you lean into her touch.

“Sure... Just let me change real quick.” You give her a peck on the lips and go to the bedroom.

You walk hand in hand not leaving your neighborhood, just enjoying the sun and the sky. You stop at the playground and sit on a bench, Kaz never letting go of your hand. You look at her and smile unconsciously. You were really lucky to have her as your wife. She always knew how to make you feel better, always had your back, you were never so sure of your love for her. The feeling making you forget about the match and all the guilt.

“What are you looking?” She kisses your hand.

“You. I love you.” She cracks a smile and you can see he cheeks turning red. Even after you were married she still got flustered because of you. You give her a quick kisson the lips.

You stay like that for 25 minutes, just enjoying each other and looking to the empty playground.

“Leah texted you?” You ask her after a while.

“Yes. They don’t blame you, actually they’re worried but I told them I got you and that after you would talk to them.” You nod and get up, ready to go home.

“Thank you for that. I really appreciate it.”

Later that day, you’re both on the couch watching ‘Killing Eve’, you laid on top of Kaz with her stroking your hair. You turn to see her, gazing with love at her features. She looks back at you the same way. You really could see the love in her eyes.

“You’re with that look again.” She says with a smile.

“What look?”

“Like I gave you the world.” It’s now your turn to smile.

“You gave me home, YOU are my home. I love you so much and I don’t know what I did to deserve you, for real. I thank God everyday for being married to you. Just being close to you makes me feel better. I’m so grateful to have you in my life.” She kisses you passionately only breaking the kiss when you start smiling.

“I love you so much, thank you for being in my life, for being my wife.” You say gazing into her eyes.

“I love you, Mrs Carney.” She kisses you again.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #kaz carney #kaz carney x reader #karen carney #karen carney x reader #woso community

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myoddessy · 1 year

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YOU ARE INVITED TO MYODDESSY'S 2K TEA PARTY

CELEBRATION CLOSED.

ASKS!

🍵tea -ask me a question! can be about myself, my writing, anything! let's get to know each other 🤍

☕coffee -party games! kiss, marry, kill. would you rather. all that stuff!

🍪biscuits -send in a character from my list below and a scenario for a set of headcanons you'd like about them!

🍰 cake -send in a character from my list below and a scenario for a blurb/drabble you'd like about them!

🎀 decorations -send in a character from my list below and a scenario for a social media au you'd like of them!

RULES!

you can send in as many asks as you like, but only one request per ask.

be polite & patient!! i'll try my best to respond to asks as fast as i can, but i do have a life outside of tumblr so if your ask takes a few days to be answered, please be kind.

MY LIST!

f1 -charles , carlos , pierre , max , daniel , lando , lewis , george , mick , oscar

youtubers -harry lewis/wroetoshaw , ksi , miniminter , vikkstar , calfreezy

marauders era -james , sirius , remus , lily , marlene , mary , dorcas

tagging some moots! @rafesmuse @whoetoshaw @lightsoutletsgo @scooterari @garfieldsladybird @sadiesuns @wrenniebaby @lovewheeler @honeymunson @blondedmuse @sapphireplums

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dnfao3tags · 10 months

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DNF Reclist - Theme: LGBTQ+

pride month may be over but lgbtq+ pride stands strong all year long! marking the end of june, here are some queer related fics for you to read and hopefully relate to.

Pride Parade

— Radio Wires (Soldered To My Heart) by ivegivenuponyou (expl. | comp. | 7k)

Dream and George celebrate their first pride together.

— we sing it proudly by jack_not_found (teen | comp. | 3k)

the first time george goes to pride, and the first time george feels like he belongs at pride.

Sexuality

— revelation by ffnppnOF (ffonippop) (expl. | comp. | 28k)

There’s nothing wrong with George. Everyone tells him so. But nobody has ever known anything because if nothing was wrong with George, he wouldn’t be suffering the way he is, rosary around his neck more like a collar or a rope, tying him to a lady he can’t love and a man he’s not allowed to love. George’s God is a lover of purity, and he forgives him. George’s lover is purity incarnate, and she loves him sweeter than he deserves. George’s guilty pleasure has eyes the color of ivy and damnation and apples that fall from trees too early. Come Sunday, George will be gone, gone, gone.

— zero by saintaches (expl. | comp. | 63k)

Dream isn't sure when George became so fucking pretty, but he's certain he can't fall in love with him. They're both omegas, after all.

note: this still counts in my books

— Fantasize About by genovashroom (expl. | wip | 5k+)

At twenty-six, George is terminally alone and having a long overdue sexuality crisis. The soulmark on his wrist says what it has since he was twenty: Clay. Unmistakably a man’s name. He’s tired of burying his head in the sand, and hoping things will sort themselves out without him. He’s tired of pretending if he wishes it away hard enough, the name will change to a woman’s. And so, in order to come to terms with his prophesied homosexuality and self-destructive loneliness, he pulls a Hail Mary and calls a phone sex line, where he meets Dream.

— r/WhoTheFuckIsDNF by furculaed (teen | comp. | 30k)

I (22 M) fell in love with my best friend (25 M) and I don’t know what to do. I love him, please help.

note: some more reddit fics that fit here, here and here

— drink it down by 21questions (mat. | comp. | 3k)

George's a storm. Dream's a hurricane. Somehow, they mix.

— i wanna stay here forever by cqfnce (teen | comp. | 3k)

Dream and George talk about love, sexuality, and metaphors on the couch in the house built for them

— Pink Carnations by ivegivenuponyou (mat. | comp. | 7k)

Dream asks him about his love life sometimes, pesters him with questions about if he wants a girlfriend, if he’s ever had a girlfriend, if he even likes girls at all, and Sapnap laughs along, teasing him in the same way. It’s always the same answers. No, yes, mind your business. Not always in that order. He’d rather spend his time on the phone with his friends, anyway. He’d take Dream’s laughter in his ears over the company of anyone else.

— What You Want by Bagelrites (SleepyAmie) (mat. | comp. | 2k)

A failed attempt at sex leaves Dream a crying mess, and George is there to comfort him, despite all his fears to the contrary.

Genderqueer

— boys and girls and punctuation by ffnppnOF (ffonippop) (mat. | comp. | 7k)

George’s identity is fortified heavily by his self expression, and the ways in which he expresses himself is constantly changing, constantly shifting, constantly inconsistent. But he’s always found security in knowing that, no matter how inconsistent he may be, no matter how far away he strays from masculinity, he’s still a boy. And there is safety in that. It’s the one consistent thing he has. But recently, everything he’s ever known about being a boy has been fracturing. The next most constant thing he’s ever known is Dream.

— Pretty Boys by Anonymous (mat. | comp. | 2k)

george has a crisis

note: also sexuality related!

— my girl’s made of peaches and soft grass and the moonlight by timelimez (expl. | comp. | 9k)

“George is like, Dream’s girlfriend or something,” Sapnap said, the rest of the Discord call erupting in laughter. “You’re so stupid.” George huffed, leaning back in his chair with a pout that no one could see. He wasn’t streaming, but one of their friends was, meaning that the line would inevitably be clipped to hell and back. The weirdest part, though, was that hearing the word girlfriend be used to refer to himself made George feel… something. He didn’t quite know yet. But it wasn’t a bad feeling, that was for sure. “Aw, George, it’s okay. You can be my little girlfriend if you want.” Dream teased, before erupting in a wheezing laugh that was soon backed by the laughter of the rest of their friends. “Whatever.” George laughed it off. It was definitely not whatever.

Part 2 of it’s all for you (it’s always for you)

its pretty late and this was kind of a last minute decision thing so that's all for now! check out my sexuality themes or genderqueer tag for more :] send me in more recs if you'd like. happy late pride.

will post june's roundup a little later this week.

#dnf #dreamnotfound #dreamwastaken #georgenotfound #dnf fanfic recs #dnfao3tags recs #sexuality themes #genderqueer

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