#my Earl piece and the time i took out to work on it was my birthday gift to myself but so was allowing myself to color this piece aswell

[blkgirl-writing]

Valentine's day drabble HCs for the men of BG3 x Reader

These are a collection of small drabbles written in different styles for valentines day! Warning Gales is the longest, whoops.

Gale:

Gales cold warm hands grasped around your waist from behind, squeezing your skin gently as he rested his head on your shoulder.

"The earl grey lavender, please-" He kissed your neck softly, speaking in a quiet tone. It was a perfect day inside his tower, the rays of sun beaming through the stained glass, fluttering rainbows across the cozy kitchen. The kettle whistles quieting down as you took it off the stove.

"It's already in the mug, lovely" You gestured to his favorite mug, a heavy stoneware piece decorated with flowers of purple and pink encased in a golden heart, he said it reminded him of when he realized he had loved you. You never fully asked why, but it made enough sense to be sweet.

"How you know me so well." Gale Smiled. You finished pouring the water and handed him his extra-strong tea. He leaned against the counter, blowing on the drink a few times. "Maybe I should have told you earlier, but I do have a surprise for you."

"I thought we said no gifts!" You batted his shoulder playfully, "though I'll admit, I didn't follow that rule either."

"is that so?" Gale leaned in to kiss your lips through a smile. "We just can't seem to help ourselves."

"So what's this gift?" you asked. He set down his own mug, ducking into the pantry to retrieve a box, unwrapped and simple. He placed it on the counter and patiently waited, his excitement barely hidden in his smile.

You opened the small box to reveal a mug, a matching mug to his, but a dark blue with purple and red flowers, with a silver heart. It was gorgeous, less heavy than his and somehow it felt built to hold within your two hands.

"Oh Gale, it's perfect." You kissed his cheek, refusing to let go of the mug quite yet, the hug would have to wait.

"I had it specifically made by the same artist. Tara now has a similar water bowl as well. She felt left out" Gales hand slipped around your waist yet again. "as much as I love it when you steal my mug, I thought it was beyond time you had your own as well."

"Oh so you didn't want me using yours?" Your teasing turned into pecks, which led to kisses- "Your gift is waiting in the bedroom," You smirked, hand caressing his messy hair. "If that's ok, of course,"

"I was secretly hoping that was the case." His hand intertwined with yours, nearly sweeping you off your feet.

Wyll:

Wyll had been staring at you for some time before you'd woken up, the sun shining down on your resting face, the definition of peaceful. Wyll hadn't remembered pure peace, it had been years since he'd felt fully at rest, but with you, calmness was as easy as breathing. All he had to do was look at you, and he remembered serenity.

He had made sure he was the best man for you, the best man he could be. He loved you with all his heart and made sure you felt like a goddess above every waking moment of your lives together, however long that may be. He loved the small moments you shared, like when you'd tripped and nearly fallen, but straight into his arms. "Well I didn't think you'd be falling head over heels for me this fast," He'd said. And you'd laughed and smiled, and he swore he'd do everything to keep that smile on your perfect lips.

He remembered your first date, where he had tried so hard to reserve a seat at the best restaurant in baldurs Gate, but ended up in a dingy bar, getting more drunk with each cup, and instead of spending the night entangled in each other's bodies, you'd shared barely cohesive thoughts and stories from lives long past. He learned your favorite color, your old friendships, and the star that you felt most connected to, the smaller details that never seemed to have enough time for during your big adventure.

Or the time you'd styled his hair into braided buns, which he'd kept in until his hair was frizzy and far past wash day. But you'd worked so hard on it to be perfectly symmetrical that he never wanted to take out your work. He asked you to help him with his hair, after that, not just because you were good at it, which, hells, you'd made him feel confident in himself for the first time since he grew his horns, but because your light touch sent him into a nearly meditative state of bliss. The way your fingers carefully combed through his hair, spending time to detangle each knot with such care that he had barely noticed it at all. And eventually, you'd taught him how to do your hair, too. Eventually wearing matching styles (if he asked politely), and took turns in the "hair chair"

"Honey?" You whispered, groggy and barely awake, "have you been staring at me again?"

"Is it a crime?" Wyll asked, placing a light kiss on your forehead.

"Only if I was drooling"

"Oh, but you look too adorable when you drool." He chucked, holding you closer to his warm chest.

"Shut up..." You pouted, eyes fluttering open and closed, trying to force yourself awake. But sleep had you tight in it's arms, and so did Wyll.

Astarion:

Red was his favorite color, after all. The room was dripping with it, black, gold, and dark, burgundy. Candles dripping hot wax down into careful carafes, soon to be poured and decorating your skin. It was romantic, it was warm, and it was lustful. Astarions eyes never left you, dancing across your body in pure sin, he clearly knew exactly how your night would unfold, and the only hint he'd give you was the devilish smile on his lips.

"It's going to be a long night, hm?"

"Oh yes, darling" Astarion purred, his hand sliding into your hair and pulling downwards, revealing your neck to him. His fangs scraped against your bare skin, but not piercing it, no, that was for later, with much less clothing and a lot more sweat, when all you could see was his snow-white skin and the blood rushing through your veins.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

@shyminnie07 @makers-breath @claryvoyantfray @black-sapphic @fapqueen

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

(Consider supporting me on Ko-fi)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

#x reader #fluff #fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 #gale of waterdeep #gale x reader #drabble #baldurs gate gale #smut #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion fluff #astarion x you #astarion fanfic #astarion smut #astarion x tav #gale dekarios #gale x tav #wyll ravengard #bg3 gale #gale bg3 #wyll x tav #wyll x reader #wyll ravenguard x reader #wyll romance #drabbles #valentines day #valentines

[melinoelliones]

Vincent had a long days work ahead, files and documents covered his desk from top to bottom. However, he had just called you to his office, what could he need from a maid?

MINORS DNI/AGELESS BLOGS DNI/ANTI DC DNI/18+

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist 

Warnings: Slight manipulation, choking, affairs, blowjob, cursing, teasing, crying, lust, one night stand? fem reader

1.7k words

This is so rushed i’m sorry Black Butler fans!!!

“Are you just going to stand there? I called you down here for a reason, now come” he demanded, not even lifting his eyes off of the stack of documents on his desk. “Oh, sorry, yes master” you shuddered, jumping out of your trance and making your way over to his side, not forgetting to bow, “Why are you acting so shy and modest all of a sudden, this wasn’t the side you showed me the other night now was it”.

Your master, Earl Vincent Phantomhive had thrown the party of all parties a couple days before for all the elites, one thing may have led to another which ended in you sleeping with him. It was not what you had intended to do, you were his maid afterall, if anyone was to find out it would be a disaster. Why would he bring it up now? Especially considering after it happened he had said to keep it between you both.

“W~What are you talking abo~ ah” you shrieked ever so slightly as you felt a hand between your thighs, riding up your dress, “stop being so loud she’ll hear you, but back to why I called you here, will you be ever so kind as to help your master relieve some of this stress” Vincent asked as nonchalantly as could be, again eyes never leaving the papers.

“How would you like me to do that? I could get Tanaka to maybe make you some tea, let me go get hi~” “you know that's not what I want” he looked up at you, pushing his chair out from under his desk to grip onto your dress as you attempted to walk away. “But I’m just a maid”, “a maid who’s almost begging for me to touch them? How foolish do you think I am exactly?” he laughed, your eyes widening as his eyes turnt to you for the first time today.

“Ever since that night I’ve noticed you avoiding me, claiming to be unwell and taking days off yet you seemed perfectly fine to me when you were getting off to me in your quarters. Or did you think I wouldn’t know?” he crooked his head, wondering how you would dare to respond to those accusations. As you attempted to think of a lie he cut you off, “even now your dress has less petticoats, I can practically see your entire body, this was what you wanted no?”.

You couldn’t even deny it, this was a fantasy you had had for a while but you hadn’t expected it to play out like this. Not with him in control of the situation anyway, but you were not going to let it slip away that easily.

“A lady mustn't reveal all her secrets, my lord” you smiled, taking a step between the desk and chair before moving to your knees under it. “That's what I wanted to see” he smirked, freeing his cock from his trousers. A small gasp leaving your lips as he took it out, the night you spent together was nothing but a blur so you hadn’t remembered him being as big as he was.

As you took his piece in your hands you were met with a slight groan from him, letting you know how pent up he was, which was perfect for you of course.  You gently moved it towards you, molding it in your palm as it grew with each movement.

“Show me what you’ve been so desperate to do.” Vincent grinned peering at you under the desk, “yes, my lord” you nodded, placing your fingers on the cusp of his cock, pressing tightly as you stuck your tongue out letting a drop of your saliva cover his tip. “But why must we rush, you like to tease do you not?” you jested, watching his thighs tense up.

Whilst you kneaded his aching piece in your fingertips he huffed, unsure of how you would steer the situation, “only one of us is in the position to do the teasing, you are still just a common whore that so happens to be my wife's maid”. Your body responded for you, tightening as he chuckled “Oh, does that turn you on?” he smirked.

Without another word you skimmed your tongue along his girthy shaft before parting your lips attempting to take his entire length in your mouth, your warm breath adding to the lingering burn in his stomach, “A~Atta girl, you got it”.

You bobbed your head up and down taking as much as you could, your saliva mixing with his precum engulfing his cock in a wet heat. “Fuuuck, full of surpr~rises are we”, he asked as his hand slid to your hollowed cheek, caressing it before bringing it to the back of your head, a slight pressure being added. His body turnt back to simultaneously finish his work on the desk whilst his fingers curled around your tied up hair.

You hadn’t expected the Earl to be so forward with you, not when you knew his wife could be almost anywhere in the manor, either way it was turning you on little by little. Your heated cheeks along with the large ache between your thighs almost taking over your body as you squeezed them together, allowing yourself that bit of pleasure.

Vincent's groans became sloppy and incoherent as your tongue slid across the slit in his piece before taking it back in, humming to allow it to slip back down your throat, the vibrations adding to the overwhelming closeness he was feeling. You slid a hand between the folds of your skirt, “f~fuck” you cried out against his cock as you ran your fingers across your sopping underwear, the friction from the fabric against your swollen clit sending you into a spiral. If only you could see the sloppy handwriting you were causing the Earl to have.

As the scene was at its peak you heard the door creek open, both of you freezing almost instantly, “Goodmorning my love, have you seen that girl anywhere?”. Although you could only hear the woman, you knew exactly who it was, Vincent gave you the fiercest of expressions before lifting his head to his wife, “Who are you referring to my dear?” he asked, acting oblivious.

“That maid you hired for me, I remember her saying she felt a bit under the weather so I wanted to see if she would like to take a stroll with me down to the river, the fresh air could do her some good I think” Rachel beamed, completely unaware of the scene just on the other side of the desk. Your body ran cold as she spoke, Rachel was the sweetest and most patient of women and always treated you almost like an equal yet here you were, sucking off her husband.

“Oh is that r~right”, “darling, are you alright?” “YES, yes I’m fine, don’t step any closer” he commanded, his body folding over the papers on his desk at your actions. The guilt of the situation had weirdly given you a boost, it was almost as if you liked this. In the middle of the conversation you had run your hand down his cock, toying with his balls.

“I think she’s c~closer than you t~think” he hissed, pushing your head further into him as you choked out, his crown hitting the back of your throat constantly as tears ran down your face. “Oh, okay dear thank you, I will speak to you once you’ve finished up those papers” she curtsied, pulling up the door to continue her search.

His eyes widened as he lent back in his chair, before he could even say another word you felt him shudder, and as if on cue he released, you could feel it cascade down your throat coating it completely, his breath hitching as you continued to deepthroat him, holding whatever remained in your mouth. “W~Well I didn’t e~expect this”, you could hear his subtle whines as the overstim started to consume him, the delirium swirling inside him as the suction intensified.

“G~od you’re fucking amazing, now cmon and show me the mess you’ve made”, his voice bellowed, watching you slow down, using your tongue to take in the elixir of cum and saliva encasing his cock cleaning him up. You could almost feel his member throbbing as Vincent used your hair to pull you off his cock. You gazed at him alluringly, tear stained cheeks on display as the trail of liquids from his shaft and the sides of your lips broke, allowing you to show him your tongue.

“Perfect, now swallow” he ordered, pulling you up from the ground to your feet, his piece still on display as you took it all down. “You have no shame do you, tears down your cheeks yet you didn’t seem to slow down as my wife spoke. She would be so disappointed in you right now” he sighed sarcastically, using his thumb to wipe the corners of your lips, your pathetic face almost laughable.

“Well? Why are you still in my presence, your ladyship is looking for you is she not?” The stern Earl scoffed, your body not even sure of how to react. “Oh, um, yes, my lord” you stuttered, slowly edging towards the side of the desk, his blank stare burnt into your mind as you turnt to face the door. Had this all meant nothing?

As you went to push off the desk you felt a presence, “How amusing” he cooed in your ear as you stomach hit the desks face, his body hovering above your back. “Taking our time are we? Well, what should I do with you now” he growled, a hand inching your skirt up as he nibbled your neck. His bare cock pressed up against your lower half, you needed him badly. 

Watching your pitiful attempt at leaving was almost comical to the Earl, but he had never intended for you to leave so soon, not when he knew you were a whore with no morals. He was more than ready to make use of his wifes little expedition, your body was his for the taking and you were more than eager to give it to him. He would not stop until all his stress was gone.

#vincent phantomhive #Vincent Phantomhive x Reader #Vincent Phantomhive smut #black butler #black butler x reader #black butler smut #kuroshitsuji #kuroshitsuji smut #kuroshitsuji x reader #kuroshitsuji x reader smut #Vincent Phantomhive x reader smut #black butler x reader smut #melinoelkinktober23 #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #meli noel work's

[lothcatthree]

1. !!!! TELL ME ABOUT PASTRY CHEF CODY !!! Finally he has some peace.

AHHH sorry this took a few days, i was inundated with other WIP's (i'll be answering the other ones soon, too)

@insertmeaningfulusername and @merlyn-bane my darlings, were also interested in this one <3

basically, obi-wan is an exceptionally tired 30yo high school teacher and he begins frequenting a coffee/pastry shop run by cody and rex. ahsoka and anakin are younger adopted siblings (still working out the whole family dynamic). obi-wan gets flustered every time he talks to cody and ahsoka and rex finds it exceedingly hilarious.

this will be a classic strangers to friends to lovers fic and is meant to be fun and wholesome :)

here's a snippet of their meeting ft. gay disaster obi-wan (got a little carried away with it)

“Can I get you anything?”

Obi-Wan is vaguely aware of a voice speaking to him from the counter, but it’s helplessly bouncing around in his empty skull like a ping-pong ball. Any rational thought he had has been sucked out the airlock of his mouth as he’s cut off mid-sentence once he spots the man just behind the register, leaning over a table as he works.

The first thing that Obi-Wan notices is hands. Bronzed long fingers and structured tendons jumping as they knead a slab of dough and Obi-Wan suddenly wonders why he feels warm in the neck. There’s flour all over the man’s knuckles, up his wrists, dirtying the hem of the black sleeves. 

Obi-Wan helplessly watches as the man rolls up his sleeves and grimaces in effort, entirely engrossed with breaking down this piece of dough and, subsequently, Obi-Wan. Rolling up the sleeves would be one thing (and it really is one thing), but there’s miles of black ink swirling around two muscular forearms.

Obi-Wan’s eyes follow the arms up to find broad shoulders and a face with smooth skin, a handsome nose, a jagged scar, and fuck, those eyes. 

He’s just dropped his gaze to the man’s lips when he realizes, far too late, that they've moved.

A sharp elbow jabs into his side and he looks down at the perpetrator.

“What do you want?” Ahsoka asks him with an edge of teenaged irritation in her voice, but her eyes are slightly widened in concern.

Right. He’s supposed to order something.

Something that’s not the devastatingly beautiful man with devastatingly beautiful hands.

Still struggling to get his thoughts into order and feeling an awful blush overtake his pale skin, Obi-Wan stutters.

“Uh..”

“He wants a cup of earl grey and...,” Ahsoka trails off for a moment, scanning the pastry case, “A cinnamon roll.”

Obi-Wan would snort if he still weren’t so flustered and working on averting his gaze from the men behind the counter. The cinnamon roll is, in fact, not for him and entirely for her.

He finally looks up from the way he was burning a hole into the wooden counter and meets the eyes of the man working the register. This one is similarly pretty, though with blonde hair buzzed short and bare arms. Obi-Wan sends a silent thank you for the lack of tattoos, or else he’d be embarrassing himself all over again.

“It’ll be $7.36,” the man tells him and fuck if that isn’t an accent. 

Obi-Wan begins to pull his wallet out of his pocket and distantly hopes the one behind the counter doesn’t have the same one because then Obi-Wan is sure he’d-

“Just charge ‘em for the tea, Rex. I don’t know how good the new recipe is for the roll,” the man at the table pipes up behind- Rex- with, indeed, the same accent and a deep, raspy voice. Obi-Wan promptly drops his wallet.

He curses under his breath and swoops down to grab it, feeling the redness on his skin take on a new, fiery shade. Obi-Wan opens the worn brown leather wallet and pulls out his debit card, thrusting it forward to Rex at a speed that’s certainly not normal.

“It’s alright, I can pay for it,” Obi-Wan clears his throat when his voice comes out weak.

Rex looks at him with a slight furrow to his brows, then he turns around to look at the other man. Obi-Wan follows his gaze and when he locks eyes with the pastry chef (what shade of brown is that and why does Obi-Wan want to bathe in it?), he swallows again.

“Really, it’s ok. These ones are for testing,” the man replies, offering a warm smile. Obi-Wan can’t stop from dropping his eyes to the soft-looking lips as the man shifts his gaze from Obi-Wan to Ahsoka, “As long as you tell me what’s wrong with it, yeah? I have a feeling you’re a professional.”

Obi-Wan turns to look at her and he’s half-shocked when her signature pubescent scowl is replaced with a genuine smile that she usually reserves for Obi-Wan or Anakin.

“I will,” Ahsoka nods and bounces on her heels.

Obi-Wan fondly smiles at her and resists the urge to ruffle the top of her hair (last time he did that, he received a bite mark on his hand that took a week to heal).

Rex clears his throat and says with a polite smile, “Alright, Cody says it’s $3.25, then.”

Cody. CodyCodyCody. 

Obi-Wan hands him his card and darts his eyes to Cody just behind Rex’s shoulders.

“Thank you, Cody,” Obi-Wan says with a small smile, trying the name out on his tongue.

Cody gives him another dazzling grin that makes Obi-Wan’s stomach flip before he goes back to aggressively kneading the dough. Obi-Wan feels his mouth dry up again as he takes his card and receipt from Rex, allowing Ahsoka to not-so-lightly shove him away from the counter and towards a table.

"What is wrong with you?" Ahsoka mutters under her breath as she herds him into a chair.

Obi-Wan sets his bag on the table and helplessly looks over his shoulder to watch Cody begin separating the dough into chunks.

"A lot, I think."

#hhgggg this will be a much longer fic than I'm used to #dragging my feet but it IS number 1 on my docket #codywan #codywan ficlet #my writing

[tyrramint]

Happy Lockwood & Co. Big Bang!!! :D I had the absolute pleasure of collaborating with @The_Dreamer_Half_Alive (on Ao3 :) on her fic for the @lockwoodandcobigbang2023 event; set post TEG, it’s truly so lovely and heartwarming, and I had so much fun doing a piece for it! We very much hope you enjoy :)

Link to the fic!!!! (the horror of the night melt away) under the warm glow of survival of the day

(Closeups below the cut :D) (because I ended up making it too wide to be easily seen in full lol) (plus ~artistic commentary~)

(SPOILERS FOR FIC CONTENT)

Okay, so I tried to put a bunch of little easter eggs from the fic and just in general in here, so if you’re interested:

Alright, to start off, I was generally very inspired by them getting a record player; I thought it was very sweet, and I loved the idea of them finally getting to relax and hang out in the library (the lack of chairs, I know; I couldn’t figure out how to put them in without blocking people lol) and locklyle dancing, with the record player on in the background, so that’s what I took as the basis of the scene!!

We had discussed that the characters were kind of a combo of both show and book versions, so I tried to add a smattering and hints of both when doing their designs!

The record is, of course, an Ella Fitzgerald record as mentioned in the fic (the record drawn is her Souvenir Album)

Holly is wearing her engagement ring, and wearing shades of pink and cream because that’s what she wears at her wedding (although shifted in hue to better match the color scheme of the piece lol)

Everyone (minus Flo) of course has their white strands of hair (which is *always* one of my favorite details to draw)

Lucy and George bake in the fic, but I think I had just read the Christmas mini story when I was doing my thumbnail for this, so Kipps ended up being the one bringing in baked goods; however, the baking mitts are orange and monogrammed with George's initials because I couldn't let that slip by, could I?

I wasn't quite sure what to put Flo in, because in the books she never takes off her boots or puffer jacket, but I wanted to throw in some sign that she was living at 35 Portland Row and becoming closer to all of them, (and her close relationship with George,) so I let her keep the boots, but traded the puffer jacket in for one of George's plaid shirts :)

The chess game also made it in because of the Christmas short story, lol

Lucy's blue star jacket!! When I read the fic, I was planning from the start to have her wearing the jacket, so of course it made it in :) I wasn't really sure what style it should be, though, so I ended up with kind of an odd mishmash of designs, but I think it turned out working alright!

The sapphire necklace, because, of course

I adore that Lockwood wears his pink socks throughout the entire show (well, most of the time they're the pink ones ;) so I wanted to include them (and then gave Lucy blue ones to match :)

The chipped blue mugs that Lockwood brings to Lucy for her tea after she wakes up from nightmares are on the bookshelf, and I couldn't find a way to directly include the Earl Grey tea they have, but I made the tea bag tags grey in honor of it

The green glow is the ghost lamp outside because if I can find a way to incorporate cool glows in my art, I will (and also on a more narrative-driven note, symbolizing the past danger they've been through and how some of it is definitely still present, but they have each other to heal with and finally be able to have some simple fun with, and are now curled up in the safety and comfort of 35 Portland Row :)

And finally, a big theme of the fic is them healing and building a happy life together, so I just wanted them to all be happy for once, and hence I put in my best efforts to draw them as such :)

#lockwood & co #lockwood and co #lucy carlyle #anthony lockwood #george karim #flo bones #quill kipps #holly munro #locklyle #lockwood and co fanart #lockwood and co big bang #my art #I'm so proud of how this turned out #if the colors are messed up for you I apologize #I did my best to fix them #drawing program exports just don't want me to find joy lol #but yeah #very very happy with the result of this and I had such a good time with this collaboration!!! :) #also this is definitely one of the longest times I've spent on an art piece before which is kinda cool; clocking in at about 45 hours #some of it took much. much. longer than it should have #but it all turned out okay so that's what counts :)

[merinsedai]

Dreamling Abbey

My fic for the @the-centennial-husbands-bigbang !!

No lie, guys: I decided to do this after coming out of a heart scan at the hospital on the sign up deadline. The thinking being: I could have a dicky ticker here, why not try something new? And this was perfect because if there's one thing I know about myself, it's that I need a deadline.

And so here we are.

I am MOST affronted by how hard this was?! And how bloody long it took me (mostly because I spent a lot of time staring into space or relentlessly googling 'did they have xyz in Edwardian England) All you wonderful, talented writers have made it look so easy that all that effort came as somewhat of a shock. Honestly, I am deeply saddened that the copious amount of Dreamling fic I have voraciously consumed in the past 18 months has not magically made a fantastic author out of me. Why does osmosis not work for writing?

If you read, I hope you enjoy!

(The ticker's fine, by the way. Not dicky at all.)

Art by the fabulous @lalaithquetzallicaresi Thanks for squeezing me in there, lovely! ❤

Pairing: Dream/Hob

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 50k

Warnings: Rape/Non-Con elements

Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Downton Abbey Fusion, look it's Downton Abbey but Dreamling omegaverse. Sorta. If you squint, I'm not sure Julian Fellowes would approve, If you haven't seen Downton it definitely won't matter, because I've unashamedly just stolen bits and pieces and thrown the rest to the wind, Attempted Sexual Assault, Rape/Non-con Elements, Non-Consensual Kissing, Pining, period typical attitudes to gender. If you reframe gender to include alpha beta omega dynamics, omega rights paralleling the suffragette movement in England, Minor Violence, lots of vague references to classic cars, mention of unethical medical procedures, Time and Night are bad parents, Omega Dream of the Endless, Alpha Hob Gadling, Hob Gadling Loves Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Dream of the Endless│Morpheus Needs a Hug, Unbeta'd

Read chapter 1 on ao3

Fic Summary: Lord Morpheus is the eldest child of the Earl and Countess of Endless, an ancient family hiding huge debts behind a fine name. As an omega, Morpheus cannot inherit his father's title or the family's ancestral home. His function is simple: secure a match that is both socially advantageous and financially viable, thus securing the future of the estate and the title of Earl of Endless for his offspring. The family believe that their troubles are solved when Morpheus dutifully (if reluctantly) becomes engaged to his wealthy cousin, Patrick. However, all their carefully laid plans are thrown into chaos when Patrick drowns on the ill-fated Titianic.

Now Morpheus is navigating treacherous waters of his own and discovering how tight the ties of family loyalty bind him. Will the charming and handsome Duke of Crowborough prove his saviour? Or will the wealthy yet odious Sir Roderick Burgess ensnare Morpheus in plans of his own?

Meanwhile, the family’s new chauffeur, one Robert Gadling, is muddying the waters of Morpheus’s existence even further- where is the line between a servant and a friend? Can Hob help Morpheus see that life exists beyond the confines of family and function?

Chapters below the cuts and in subsequent reblogs, should you wish to read it here on tumblr.

Chapter 1: Complications with the Great Matter.

April 1912.

The papers had been late this morning. Not that Morpheus notices their tardiness. Serious daily newspapers are the preserve of his father and since Morpheus has little interest in the society gossip that proliferated on the pages of The Daily Sketch, the only periodical he is allowed in his room, he rarely bothers to glance at it. However, the large photograph blazing across the front page is so arresting that he finds his eyes drawn to it immediately, ignoring all else on his vanity to take the paper and read.  It is bad news of course, the papers rarely print anything but.  ‘DISASTER TO TITANIC ON HER MAIDEN VOYAGE’ boldly proclaims the headline, beneath which is black and white image of the doomed liner, adjoined by one of her seemingly also doomed captain, John Smith. Morpheus’s eyebrows draw down as he reads the brief article: so many presumed dead, so few saved.  They would know people, of course. His mother knew the Astors, and they had dined with Lady Rothes only last month. Still, the privilege of first class likely meant they would be amongst the survivors. Those below decks… on their way to a better life, well they would not have been so fortunate. What a tragedy, Morpheus sighs and closes the paper. This news rather put his own woes into perspective-

The door bangs open and Desire flounces in without so much as a by your leave, as is their way. 

“Dream!” they shout without preamble, then glance at the newspaper in his hands with a slight moue of disappointment. Being the bearer of bad news is something Desire takes a measure of delight in, “Oh, you’ve seen already, Huh,” They shake their head, before bending over Morpheus to look more closely at his paper, hand gripping his shoulder. This close, the smell of the perfume Desire favours- a rich and spicy aroma deliberately chosen to overwhelm their natural omega scent- makes him wrinkle his nose and move his head away. Desire’s fingers tighten on his shoulder and they huff in amusement. They are not strictly allowed to wear perfumes but Desire goes their own way with everything.  “When Jessamy told me, I thought she must have dreamt it!” Desire continues in a low tone, meeting Morpheus’s eyes in the mirror.  “To think, we were just talking about that ship the other week. Remember how excited old Lucy Rothes was? Supposed to be unsinkable- ha!”

“Every mountain is unclimbable until they climb, so every ship is unsinkable until it sinks,” Morpheus responds neutrally, putting the paper down and shrugging Desire’s hand off to stand. Desire moves with him, smoothing their hands over the non-existent wrinkles on the shoulder of his jacket before adjusting his already meticulously placed tie pin. Morpheus endures the attention for a moment before once again moving away. He does not enjoy this close scrutiny and Desire knows it, but it is always a delight of theirs to make him feel uncomfortable.

“Hm” Desire hums then shrugs, “Come on, now you’re all sorted, lets go to breakfast. Aponoia said she saw the telegram boy come by. I want to find out if there’s any more news. Won’t it be something if someone truly important drowned? Gossip for weeks.”

***

The papers always print bad news. Of course they do. But that news is viewed through a detached lens. Shocking, of course, but not too close to home. Telegrams though- that’s different. They take that news and make it personal. 

Breakfast had proven to be a fraught affair. Their father had been away from the room when they first arrived, speaking with their mother so they were to learn, but he had soon been back and imparted the news of their family’s misfortune to his children with unusual brevity. Then he had left without saying anything further, leaving the three of them to process the news alone: the news that Patrick Endless, their wealthy cousin and Morpheus’s fiance, had been aboard the Titanic with his father, James and neither were listed among the names of the survivors. Morpheus had not felt like eating further and had removed himself back to his rooms with his siblings following uninvited (though not strictly unwanted). He had wanted to think but he also knew the danger of getting lost so deeply in his mind, so Desire’s sniping and Aponoia’s quiet presence would be… grounding. 

The stupid thing was that Patrick was not even meant to be on that cursed ship; he and his father weren’t expected in New York until May. Why? He thought Why did they go? And without saying anything? Perhaps Patrick had planned to telegram from New York- a boast and a surprise. 

“Turns out that the lure of the Titanic’s maiden voyage was too strong.” Desire says as if reading his mind, and with a hint of mischief in their golden eyes. They lounge dramatically against the doorframe whilst Morpheus stands and stares out of his window, gazing at the grounds below. It all looks so quiet, so normal. Why doesn’t he feel sad?  Desire continues, “They wanted to be part of history and now they are history.”

“Desire,” Morpheus chides half heartedly. It is a crass statement but he can’t find it in himself to react more strongly. Maybe they are looking for a reaction from him, or maybe this is now how his sibling processes strong emotions. It certainly seems in character. Aponoia has not yet spoken. She just sits unmoving, staring vacantly ahead, toying with the ring on her finger, turning it over and over. He himself feels oddly disconnected from the news. How is one meant to react upon learning that their intended had been so suddenly and shockingly killed- drowned in the icy waters of the North Atlantic, their frozen corpse not even recovered, just left to sink and rot in the sea. Dream blinks slowly, probably not like this, he thinks vaguely. He feels there should be some weeping and wailing involved at the very least. 

But there is only numbness.

***

“Uh, I detest black,” Desire flounces into the room the next morning whilst Morpheus is busy writing in his journal. He enjoys writing, it helps to order his often scattered and rebellious thoughts. 

Jessamy, the maid he shares with his siblings, has just finished fixing his hair and is busily setting his bed to rights, plumping the pillows and smoothing the coverlets.  Desire regards themself critically in Morpheus’ tall mirror, turning this way and that. Aponoia trails after them silently. She is also dressed in black and it makes her look even more wan and washed out than usual. As for Desire, their outfit may have been the requisite black, but it still looked to Morpheus to be sufficiently rakish as to raise their parents’ blood pressure. Hardly proper mourning material. “At least going into mourning won’t ruin your aesthetic, Dream dear,” Desire stretches languidly and collapses back on the just-made bed, smiling thinly. “Always a silver lining somewhere.”

“Full mourning still seems a lot for a cousin,” Morpheus replies vaguely. He tries to pay little attention to his siblings, bent over his journal and writing quickly. The habit of diary writing was born of necessity: a strategy to help quiet his mind, he’d been told, but now it is a pleasure. 

“But not for a fiance,” Aponoia’s voice is quiet. There is no accusation in her tone, only the retelling of fact.

Morpheus huffs slightly. “He was not really a fiance.”

“No? I thought that was what you call a man you’re going to marry?”

“I was only going to marry him if nothing better turned up,” he turns the page and continues writing.

“Morpheus! What a dreadful thing to say!” Desire looks simply delighted. “Poor dear Patrick was absolutely besotted with you. It was quite pathetic to witness really- your indifference and his lovelorn obsessiveness,” they shudder theatrically. “Perhaps it’s a good thing he drowned; saved him from a miserable life with you as husband.”

“You dare suggest I would have been a poor husband to him?” Morpheus demands, slamming his diary closed and rounding on his sibling. Desire shrugs insouciantly, fiddling with a diamond earring.

‘“Well you didn’t love him. Barely liked him. And he wasn’t the cleverest where you were concerned, but he would have seen it sooner or later, and hated you for it. Of course, I could wish an unhappy marriage upon you, dearest brother. But Patrick? He deserved better.”

‘Better?’ Morpheus raises his eyebrows. Desire’s words were often full of spite towards him but this was such a quick switch around from mocking Patrick to defending him. Was there something here he had never seen? Never bothered to look for, in truth. “You would have considered yourself a better prospect, my sibling? Taken what I would have discarded?” He raises his eyebrows in challenge and they glare at each other for a moment, then Desire drops their gaze.

‘Yes,’ they say softly, vulnerability etching their features momentarily. “Would that I were eldest and not… as I am. Then I would have taken him like a shot.”

They stand, shields quickly  going back up. “Well,” they sniff pointedly, looking away from Morpheus and towards the door,  “It’s not so bad I suppose. Mama says we can go into half mourning next month, then full colour by September. A shame we have to spend the summer so drab- and miss the season down in London!- but at least we’ll be ready for shooting parties in the autumn.  Come on Appy, let’s leave his lordship alone. He clearly craves solitude. To think,” they sneer, “and write in his stupid diary.” They flow out the room without a backwards glance, Aponoia dutifully trailing in their wake.

Morpheus sighs and turns back to his journal, opening it and staring at the blank page but not picking his pen back up. Desire and Patrick… not that he thought Patrick had returned any sort of affection to his younger sibling but still, had he really been so blind?

“I was so terribly sorry to hear the news, my lord,” Jessamy offers quietly into the silence of the room as she finishes adjusting his bed again. “You say these things but I know you are sad. Whatever you say.” “You are a dear,” Morpheus murmurs. “But I do not feel as badly as I should. I do not really know… what I feel.”  That is probably a bad reflection upon me, he thinks. The truth was that beyond the normal amount of grief that came with the sudden and untimely passing of an acquaintance, Dream felt nothing.  Patrick had hardly been a grand passion. They had known each other since childhood but had been thrown together through circumstance rather than any actual attraction and they had barely anything in common.  So no, he was not as sad as he should be and that was what was really making him sad.  This marriage would have been a thing of duty. Their family was old, old enough indeed to have had plenty of time to rack up considerable debts. A lack of money hidden behind a fine name. Morpheus’ marriage to Patrick would have secured the estate’s future, shored up its ailing finances and kept the title very much in the family. As an omega, Morpheus would never have been able to inherit his father’s title but his children could, if they were alphas. And now, there was no marriage, no money and a very uncertain future ahead of them. Morpheus’s one duty, his one function in society, was to secure a good match and that duty lay so heavily upon his shoulders. If only Olly had stayed- but no, there was no use in dealing in ‘if onlies’. Practicalities only, and practicalities meant marriage. And soon.

#centennial husbands big bang #centennial husbands big bang 2023 #centennialhusbandsbigbang #mr sadman #centennial husbands #dreamling #the sandman #the sandman fanfiction #the sandman fanart #a thing I wrote

[five-miles-over]

The Age of Loki - Part One

(credit to @tomhiddlestunned for this image)

Pairing: Professor Hiddleston x Reader, Loki x Reader (eventually)

Summary: For his second year teaching at Oxford's English department, Professor Hiddleston hires you to be his first-ever teaching assistant. One night while working late, he shows you the newest addition to his poetry class's syllabus: the Lokasenna, a poem centered on the Norse god of mischief...and accidentally summons the trickster god himself.

Disclaimer: this fic is not meant to offend any real-life person, it's just a relatively-harmless AU meant to explore a hypothetical what-if scenario.

Warnings: just a little jealousy, but mainly banter

Professor Hiddleston lived by three rules. Rule number one, always be kind to everyone you meet. Rule number two, dancing's not a crime. And rule number three, never get Starbucks for yourself without buying something for your TA, especially if she's working late. 

Professor Hiddleston strode into the library closest to the Oxford English department building as the grandfather clock rung ten times. His brown curls combed back, he wore a crisp three-piece suit and carried a leather messenger bag on his left shoulder. He immediately made his way towards the table where you were grading essays for his Fundamentals of Poetry course, and placed a Starbucks cup in front of you. 

"Grande Earl Grey Tea Latte with two shots of espresso and a dash of vanilla."

At the sound of his voice, you looked up from your papers and lowered your red felt tip pen. "Two weeks of working for you, and you've already figured out my coffee order?"

"Well, you were in my course for nearly five months before you became my teaching assistant." Professor Hiddleston gently corrected you with a smile, lowering the messenger bag from his shoulder while his right hand held a croissant wrapped in brown parchment paper. He took a bite into the flaky pastry and licked his bottom lip. "Plus, you always sat in the front row. I could smell the Earl Grey from your cup while I was lecturing."

"It was a course held at eight-thirty in the morning," you quipped, taking a sip. "I needed my caffeine. And so did you, judging by the tea cup on your desk."

Professor Hiddleston chuckled. He loved the way you always had a comeback ready for him. It made your relationship so much more than former student-former professor, or TA-and-professor. 

Being a relatively new professor at Oxford, you were the first teaching assistant he'd hired since he began his second year as a member of the university's faculty. Yes, his first course within the English department last year had a class size of almost two hundred students, but that number dwindled like drops of morning dew throughout the semester. And within the fifty or so students that remained, you were one of the few who stood out to him as someone genuinely interested in his class discussions and assignments. You showed up to every lecture, without fail, completely prepared and willing to bring your own ideas to the table. And to someone like Hiddleston, that was exactly what he needed in an assistant. Someone who could help him navigate the challenges of teaching a course from start to finish. 

So when the semester came to a close, and he'd finished doling out the final grades, he left a handwritten note on your term paper inviting you to see him in his office. When you arrived, he simply made you an offer, or rather a promise. He promised you the position of his first-ever TA, with a decent pay for a university student - about twenty-one thousand pounds a year - and the opportunity to be his "second-in-command", like a king's chief advisor, though some would say that a king's second-in-command is actually his queen…Never mind that for the moment. 

To say that working alongside you was enjoyable would be an understatement. He liked discussing with you in the library about life, literature, and how many times is appropriate to watch the same play. Professor Hiddleston found himself looking forward to each moment with you, to the point where he started ending his appointments five minutes earlier than scheduled, just so he could have a few minutes to comb his hair and put a little extra spritz of cologne before seeing you. And every time he had the privilege of introducing you as his new teaching assistant, whether he was talking to fellow professors or to one of his three classes this semester, Professor Hiddleston's face would light up as if he'd won the lottery. Actually, in Professor Hiddleston's mind that may as well be true; you were truly one of the best people he'd ever met since he joined the university.

You took another sip, and underlined a few awkwardly phrased sentences on the paper in front of you. "It looks like a lot of these people quoted Shakespeare's sonnet. You know, the one everybody knows about? 'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?'" You wrote a 'B' on the paper and then grabbed another essay, pushing a section of hair out of your face. 

"You picked a good assignment for your Fundamentals of Poetry course, it's very fitting for the first essay of the semester," you remarked, bringing him back into reality. You read aloud the prompt, which asked the students to write about how poetry has affected their lives. They were encouraged to include examples of poems that had a lasting impact on their lives and their world views. And if Professor Hiddleston were true to his word, then he would possibly use the assignment as a basis to decide which of the poems from his course's syllabus he might actually teach.

"I thought so too." 

"-Thou art more lovely and more temperate," Professor Hiddleston murmured in continuation, taking a few steps so that he was now standing right next to your chair, his eyes on you while you graded the next essay. "Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, and summer’s lease hath all too short a date…" The half-eaten croissant completely forgotten, he placed his free hand on the table, inching it towards the essays and haphazardly-arranged pens until it was almost a millimeter away from your arm. He immediately froze as soon as he realized the proximity, his hand tensed all of a sudden.

His ability to recall verses at the drop of a hat was always impressive; it was one of the many things you liked about Professor Hiddleston. Your head down, you continued to skim the essay before marking it with a 'C+'. You sighed, "Exactly. But none of them seem to give proper explanations as to why this particular sonnet by Shakespeare. Listen to this, Professor. 'Shakespeare sonnet number eighteen has made me see the world in a more romantic way. I have learned to appreciate the beauty in the world, and see the 

Professor Hiddleston leaned against the table. "And why do you think that is an unsatisfactory explanation?" He asked with a small smile.

"Because that kind of an explanation could be used for any kind of poem. Alright, maybe not any kind of poem, but it's not specific to sonnet number eighteen."  

"I couldn't agree more," Professor Hiddleston simply said. "There's no clarification as to why that particular sonnet, or Shakespeare's sonnets in general?"

"No, not really." Putting the 'C+' essay along with the other graded ones, you reached for the Starbucks cup. "I just don't understand why a bunch of the students would all quote the same sonnet for this assignment, and then all use…shoddy explanations." 

Your word choice made him chuckle and look down for a moment. You could definitely make a great professor yourself.

Just then, your phone vibrated, and you reached down to the leg of your chair, into your bag to check it.

Professor Hiddleston crossed his arms, squaring his shoulders as the smile disappeared. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah, my boyfriend Chris just texted me. He's upset about having to postpone our date night."

He sighed aloud. 

"What is it?" You frowned and put the phone away. 

"I don't like him."

"You haven't even met the guy." 

He looked you in the eye, arms still crossed. "Not entirely true. I saw him pick you up from this very library two days ago, at eight-thirty. It was after you finished grading my pop quizzes on "The Fall of the House of Usher". He's a tall, blonde,…surfer, beach bum kind of boy, right? This Christopher of yours-"

You nearly gave the professor a scowl. "He hates being called that."

"I'm just saying that you could do better than this Christopher. He's just not the type of guy that you should be with."

You shook your head. "You're a wonderful professor, but I'm not taking dating advice from someone who's dating three different women at the same time." You retorted and picked up the red felt tip pen for no reason. 

His eyebrows furrowed. "Now hang on just a moment -" He interjected, "We agreed that nothing was to be exclusive."

"Is 'we' referring to you and your cell phone?" Alright, that wasn't your best comeback ever, you had to admit. It was late, and more than anything, you needed a warm hug and some sleep. 

"Drink your tea, it's getting cold." Professor Hiddleston pointed to your Starbucks cup, and then took a bite into the croissant, which was already starting to feel tough, almost rubbery in his mouth. "There's something I wanted to show you. Something I want for tomorrow's class."

"What is it?"

Professor Hiddleston ate the rest of the croissant in a single bite, reached into his bag, and retrieved a leather-bound book, its edges slightly torn up. The pages were almost a yellowish-beige, barely glued to the spine, and covered in dust. 

He began to flip through the pages. "It all began with the gods having a feast, hosted by the sea god Ægir. Loki grew jealous of all the praise being heaped upon the other guests, and slew Ægir's servant Fimafeng." 

"The Lokasenna," Professor Hiddleston introduced, a touch of theatricality in his voice, the same voice he used for his lectures. "It's a poem from Norse mythology, one of the poems from the Poetic Edda, describing the exchange of insults between Loki - the god of mischief - and the other gods."

"Interesting choice…it's certainly no Shakespearean sonnet." You commented.

You took a drink from your Starbucks, nodding. "Hm-hm." The clock inside the library rung eleven times, the sound as solemn as  funeral march. 

"And then," he sat across from you and continued to narrate, "Loki enters the hall and demands to be seated. The other gods are reluctant, but Loki recalls an old vow sworn with Odin that they should drink together. So, the gods make some space for Loki." Professor Hiddleston's eyes twinkled with excitement. "And Loki continues to insult the gods, and no one can seem to stop him. The only one…" he turned the page, "who can stop Loki is Thor, the son of Odin, because Thor is the only one who Loki fears."

"Thor, the…god of thunder?"

"Thor the god of thunder," Professor Hiddleston flipped the page again.

You asked him if the book contained any original Norse dialect, or any Old Norse. It turns out it was just a one-of-a-kind book about Loki left in the Oxford library hundreds of years ago, containing an English word-for-word translation of the Lokasenna, along with an interpretation of each verse. It could've been a collector's item, sitting in the study of some member of the bourgeoise, but it served a more glorious purpose in the library of a university, available for literature enthusiasts. 

I, Lopt, from a journey long,

Professor Hiddleston cleared his throat and began reading to you the part where Loki demanded the other gods for a drink.

"Thirsty I come | into this thine hall,

To ask of the gods | that one should give

Fair mead for a drink to me."

He paused only to sneeze, which should've been expected given the amount of dust within the old book.

Professor Hiddleston sneezed again, and you noticed a small cloud of blue dust rise from the book when he did. He finished the verse,

"Why sit ye silent, | swollen with pride,

Ye gods, and no answer give?"

"At your feast a place and a seat prepare me,

Or bid me forth to fare."

After he sneezed a third time, louder than before, another cloud of blue dust escaped from the pages. Only this time, the cloud of blue dust grew larger, and larger…until it began to swirl around the two of you.

"What's happening?" You hurriedly stood up from your chair. 

Professor Hiddleston gulped, his eyes wide as he dropped the book onto the table and immediately reached for your arm. "I-I-I don't know! I…Are we being transported to another realm?!"

"I should hope not!"

After what felt like several moments of confusion, the blue dust subsided. Before you stood a tall man with shoulder-length, greasy black hair, a pale oblong face with defined cheekbones, and a deceptive smirk. He wore a cape lined with green silk, that billowed around his ankles as he strode towards you, and his black leather heeled shoes clicked as he walked. 

Professor Hiddleston made his way forward, standing between you and the tall man with his hands out. "Who are you?" He demanded, his lip quivering. 

"I am Loki of Asgard," the man smugly introduced himself. With a wave of his hand, a set of golden horns appeared on his head, and a dagger in his other hand. Another wave, and both of those things disappeared. "And I have been summoned."

Tag list: @lokischambermaid @smolvenger @lokidbadguy @turniptitaness @lokisgoodgirl @evelyn-kingsley @lovelysizzlingbluebird @muddyorbsblr @anukulee @omgsuperstarg @holdmytesseract @lokidbadguy @stupidthoughtsinwriting @icytrickster17 @thatdummy-girl @fantasyfan4life

#tom hiddleston #loki god of mischief #loki #tom hiddleston characters #professor tom hiddleston #professor fic #professor hiddleston #professor hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston au #tom hiddleston x y/n #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x reader fic

[portaltothevoid]

For Whom the Bell Tolls - Chapter 35 - Spellbound

Pairing: Eddie Munson x OFC (Kat Ramsay), sequel to Foolin’

Summary: Kat returns to Hawkins after the battle.

Warnings: This is it. It’s the end of Kat’s story…. For now. 

Word count: 3.3k

Chapter song: Spellbound by Siouxsie and the Banshees

Tag list: @munchabunch​ @madaboutmunson​ @earl-greater​

The medics were working on Eddie before the helicopter was even in the air. They took his vitals and changed his bandages, applying more pressure to stop whatever ones were still bleeding. Frantically, they were writing notes on various clipboards. 

An adrenaline crash hit Kat like a ton of bricks. She could feel herself spacing out as she tried to stay attentive to Eddie. The whole ride took no more than 15 minutes. They landed atop this building in the middle of the woods. It felt eerily similar to Hawkins Lab. 

Eddie was wheeled off in the stretcher. The woman had held Kat back, not letting her follow. She didn’t even fight it. There was really nothing anyone could do to keep her from him anyway, but she knew the doctors needed space to assess him and make him comfortable. Soon enough, she would see him.

Kat was led a few floors down to a fancy boardroom. There she saw her Uncle Hank who shot up to greet her along with a couple of his colleagues. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he said as he hugged her. 

“Yeah, me too, honestly,” she said quietly, returning his hug. “They’ll tell me as soon as Eddie is stable, right?”

“Yes, yes, of course. He will be very well taken care of here,” Hank assured her as he pulled out a chair for her to sit.

“Where is ‘here’ exactly?”

“Knight Ridge Technical, a government research facility, about ten miles east of Bloomington.”

“Right…” she said tapping on the table. “It’s not the kind of research that brainwashes kids and experiments on them against their will, right?” With Kat’s blunt question it felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. 

“No, no. Nothing of that sort. That was Brenner’s thing. Here at Knight Ridge we focus more on understanding physics and electromagnetic fields, things of that nature.”

“Yeah, sure. So are we here to talk terms or…?” she trailed off.

“Terms?” The woman asked.

“Uh, yeah. Eddie and I are prime suspects in murders that One did, and ya know, opened up a massive gate between our world and the Upside Down. So I want our names cleared. Specifically his name cleared.”

“That… that will come in time. I’m seeing to it you both are going to be very well taken care of. Right now we are just trying to understand exactly how that happened.”

Kat let out a big sigh. “So my friend Max was one of his victims. Basically me and El, Eleven, piggybacked from Max’s mind into Vecna… One’s mind. We call him Vecna. Sometimes One. Sometimes Henry? Anyway. He wanted us to watch him kill Max as his fourth and final victim to, in his demented mind, ‘save the world’ more or less, but wherever El was, her boyfriend gave her this peptalk. Which I could hear too. He was telling her to fight. I thought of Eddie. And I fought like hell to get back to him. Because the all-seeing asshole showed me a live feed of the demobats attacking him. El basically finished One off while I went back to my body and then, um, sort of became a human EKG machine. Um, so yeah, we sort of stalled him for the time being, but I mean, every place One killed someone turned into a gate. When Max… died…” Kat took a second to clear her throat. The weight and reality of that statement hadn’t even registered in her mind yet. “That’s what caused the giant earthquake. I saw it from the air. Every gate connected and formed a line to the center of Hawkins. I don’t know what it means, but… He said he would be there when the rest of the world burns and falls and he’d be there to pick up the pieces, to turn the world into something beautiful. Clearly we have very different standards of beauty. If only you guys got a look at him. He doesn’t need to bag just his face, but his whole body…” Kat shuddered at the thought and then looked at everyone in front of her. They all stared back at her blankly, mouths slightly agape. 

Hank cleared his throat and adjusted his tie. “We’ve lost contact with Eleven after the disaster at NINA, but you said she was there?”

“Yeah, she’s on her way back to Hawkins.”

“You’re the reason that boy is alive?” someone else asked.

“Um, yeah. I– I– I panicked. I couldn’t… I can’t lose him,” she whispered as she looked at her hands on the table.

“You never cease to amaze me, ya know that, kiddo?” Hank said with a beaming smile. “So here’s what happens now. We’re going to set you up in an overnight suite here. You used an immense amount of power. To be quite honest, I don’t even know how you’re still standing right now.”

“Well, I’m sitting, but yeah, me neither.”

“You rest up and hopefully by the time you’re ready, you’ll be able to see Eddie. Sound good?”

“Yeah, sure, but Uncle Hank? I mean it. When we get back to Hawkins I want his name cleared,” she spoke sternly.

“Who said anything about going back to Hawkins? Kat, honey, you can’t go back there. The town is like a war zone.”

“Exactly. It is a war zone. And I have to be on the front lines. This fight isn’t over. It’s only just beginning.”

Hank started to stutter when the woman spoke up. “The girl and her family will be staying in their secluded cabin. Surely there’s another one nearby we could set up for them. Temporarily they can stay there until we finalize everything.”

“I like this lady,” Kat nodded with a smile as she got up from her seat. Everyone else followed suit. “Don’t know who you are, but I like you.”

“Agent Stinson,” she said as she stuck out her hand for a handshake. “I’ll show you to your room.”

~~~~~

The next day Kat was waiting outside Eddie’s room, ringing her hands anxiously. She had been called here just moments ago, but when she finally got to the room, he was still asleep. One of the doctors finally came by and updated her on everything.

“He’s very lucky to be alive, you know. We honestly don’t know how he survived. Those wounds were deep and he lost a lot of blood. He has quite the road to recovery, but luckily you got him here in time. Truly, his case is baffling. Were you aware he was clinically dead for about a minute?”

“I… um, yeah. I just, um… I went by the book to save him, I guess,” she muttered. She’d never heard or seen this person before in her life. How could she know if she could trust him? Sometimes she felt guilty for how much of the battle she relayed to her Uncle, but it just kept pouring out of her.

“Is that so?” The doctor chuckled. “We’re all on your side here. You can trust us.”

“That’s what they all say,” Kat said with a weak smile.

“I get it, I get it. From what you’ve been through… It’s wise not to automatically trust everyone you meet. Anyway, his vitals are stable. We gave him fluids when he first got here. He was able to eat this morning. His upper body suffered the most damage, so you guys should be on your way tomorrow.”

“Does everyone know what I can do here? Jesus. Wait, on our way tomorrow? Are you serious?”

“You and Eleven are like our local celebrities here. We’re all in your corner. And absolutely. This is the most miraculous case I’ve ever seen. I mean, the improvement from yesterday to today is astonishing. I’ll send you home with a folder full of his care regimen. You’ll have agents and doctors close by, should any issues arise.”

“Thank you,” she said sincerely.

“Alright, I’ll let you see him. It’s best if he wakes up on his own, but there's a chair in there for you and the TVs still on, so help yourself. If you need anything, just buzz for one of the nurses.”

Kat nodded and had her hand on the door knob, but hesitated before she went in. “Wait, just tell me before I go in there… Did you have to cut his hair?”

“No,” the doctor chuckled. “His hair is still intact.”

“Thank god. I didn’t wanna be the one to tell him. He would’ve been pissed,” Kat laughed as she entered the room.

He was lying there peacefully. Bandages covered much of his body. But the color had returned to his face. His hair was fanned out around him. She was well aware the doctor said not to disturb him, so sat in the chair and sort of… followed his directions.

At this point, she had a handle on her powers so much that she could just enter the void simply by closing her eyes and focusing on it. The TV became background noise. The light didn’t bother her. It was just like falling asleep with the lights on, in a roundabout way.  

As soon as she padded across the shallow water of the void, something felt… off. Usually, she felt completely neutral here until she entered someone’s mind. This time it was different. Cautiously, she walked up to his hospital bed and went to reach for his hand. Before she made contact, his eyes flung open. He grabbed her arm with a tight grip and pulled her down closer to his level. His eyes bore right into hers, streaks of red brightened his dark brown irises. “No,” he said forcefully.

Immediately she opened her eyes, her chest heaving from whatever she just witnessed. She looked over at Eddie who was still peacefully sleeping. This was something that had never happened before. It was as if something else was there. Something else that didn’t want her seeing into Eddie’s mind. 

He began to stir and slowly started to wake up. His eyes fluttered open and when he glanced to the right, he softly smiled. “Hey,” he whispered groggily.

Kat flew out of the chair and to his side. She gripped his hand tightly like if she let go he would disappear forever. “Hey, hi!” she murmured gently. “Are you in pain? Do you need anything?”

“Just you to be here with me.”

She leaned over and kissed his forehead. “I’m here.”

“Wait, they didn’t cut my hair did they?”

“No,” Kat laughed at how well she knew him. “You didn’t need brain surgery. Which is surprising considering how dumb you are!”

“Ah, here we go,” he chuckled. 

“I can’t believe you! After everything I told you! Sometimes running is okay, you know! Jesus. You scared the shit outta me. I almost fucking lost you. For good. For forever! Oh my god, and Dustin! Dustin had to see the whole thing. Poor Dustin.”

“You good? Got that outta your system?”

“I– Yeah. Just… don’t fucking die again, okay?”

“Not planning on it, but hey anything can–” he started to tease, but cut himself off when Kat shot daggers at him with the look on her face. “Yeah, no, definitely not planning on it. Um, how did I, uh, get here?”

“I called my Uncle and he got you airlifted here. It’s like Hawkins Lab 2.0. Supposedly minus the brainwashing and child experiments, but jury’s still out on that.”

“You what? You called the government? So, what the hell happens when we get outta here? Am I…” Eddie spoke so fast his words almost blended together.

Kat shook her head. “No. They’re gonna take care of it. We might have to stay with El in some cabin for a bit until they get us our place, but we’re going back to Hawkins after this. And my Uncle assured me we’d be well taken care of. Both of us. Eddie, this was the safest route. The doctors over at NINA that were working with El are also working with everyone here. We’re safe.”

“Great, so we’ll basically be under witness protection or some shit?”

“Why is this bothering you so much?”

“I just want my life back,” Eddie muttered.

“In time, babe, in time. Maybe. Who knows. Vecna still might destroy the world and we did all of this for nothing,” she shrugged. 

“Can’t we, like, run away to California or something? Stay at one of your parent’s houses or some shit?”

Kat shook her head solemnly. “I need to be in Hawkins. This isn’t over.”

“Yeah,” he snorted. “It’s not. Hey, does Wayne know I’m…alive?”

“I have no idea. I’m not even sure if it’s safe for him to know. We can ask?”

Eddie just nodded and stared at whatever was on the TV. Kat furrowed her brow, debating if she wanted to ask this question now, but why wait when it would just gnaw at her? “Hey, Eddie, can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Do you remember anything from… um, anything about–”

“Dying? No,” he answered curtly. “And I don’t wanna talk about it.”

His tone took her off guard. He never spoke to her like that. And that’s how she knew he was lying. Her theory was proving to be correct. Something was definitely off. A knock on the door interrupted, or rather saved, Kat from coming up with a response.

The doctor gave them both a run down of his status and confirmed his release for the next day, after testing out his mobility. He struggled, but was mobile. They were just mere hours away from an actual peaceful rest. Hopefully.

~~~~~

Another helicopter landed atop the Knight Ridge building while Eddie and Kat were waiting for their ride back to Hawkins. Eddie had returned to his normal self. Or at least, he didn’t act weird like he did the day before. The couple leaned against an expensive looking black car with the darkest tinted windows. Eventually, Agent Stinson finally emerged from the building with another man and woman in tow. 

“Chief Hopper?” Eddie asked.

“Munson?”

“You two know each other? Oh, what am I saying? It’s Hawkins, of course they know each other,” Kat mumbled to herself. 

“Hi, I’m Joyce Byers,” a woman with auburn hair and the kindest, sweetest smile Kat had ever seen held out her hand.

“Hi, I’m Kat Ramsay, nice to meet you. Byers? You must be Will’s mom?”

“Yes! You know Will?”

“We know of him. Eddie is, well, was the DM for the D&D club at the high school. Dustin and Mike would always talk about him and El. You both seem like wonderful people, I’m so happy she found you guys after getting away from that prison of a lab,” Kat rolled her eyes at the thought of it. 

“You know El?” Hopper asked. He had a shaved head and the start of a beard. He looked like he was practically skin and bones under his baggy clothes. 

“Very well. I was, uh, number Ten at the lab.”

“Come on, we can catch everybody up to speed on the way there,” Stinson said, urging everyone to get in the car.

When they finally got to the secluded cabin, Kat had heard all about the Russians involvement with the Upside Down and how Joyce went all the way there to save Hopper. They also told her about how they destroyed particles from the Mind Flayer and demogorgons at Kamchatka prison to help give them an upper hand. From there, Kat filled them in on everything that had happened the past week.

As they reached their destination, Stinson sighed. “I thought you said this place was livable?”

“Well it was, but I’ve sort of been in a Russian prison. Haven’t been able to keep up the place.”

“We’ll send a crew out. I’ll give you all some time. I’ll be back later to take you all someplace in the meantime.”

Everyone left a chorus of ‘thank you’s to her as they got out of the car. Mike and what Kat assumed to be Will, ran to Joyce, followed by another boy that was with Nancy. She presumed that to be Jonathan, her boyfriend… for now at least. Kat would do her best to keep her comment to herself. She noticed another boy with very long, dark hair holding up a mushroom, like he’d found gold. Nancy ran up to Kat and gave her a hug.

“Oh my god, Nancy, you’re alive!” Kat exclaimed. “Did Robin and Steve make it out too? How’s Dustin? What about Max and Lucas and Erica?” 

“Yeah, our group made it out alive. Lucas beat the shit out of Jason, you would have been so impressed. He also didn’t make it through the earthquake…”

“Good riddance to him. Sorry, too soon?”

Nancy just shook her head and chuckled. “Erica is okay. Lucas has been at the hospital with Max–”

“Max is alive?!”

“Barely, she’s in a coma. The doctors aren’t even sure how she’s still alive.” 

Kat looked over at Eddie and then saw El emerge from the cabin with Hopper. “I think I do,” she whispered before she ran over to El and wrapped her in a huge hug. “Oh my god, El, are you okay? How are you?”

“I am great,” she said as she beamed at Hopper. “I am happy you’re here, Kat.”

Kat was formally introduced to everyone. When Eddie met Will for the first time, they stared at each other. It was only for a few seconds. No one else but Kat noticed. She was the only one watching him like a hawk for anything out of the ordinary. The exchange made her stomach flip. 

As everyone was mingling, a sudden chill went down Kat’s spin. At the same time, she saw Will reach for the back of his neck. Him and Eddie exchanged quick nods, before Will turned around to look up at the sky. Dark, ominous clouds were rolling in. Thunder rumbled and particles began to fall from the sky, exactly like ones that floated around the Upside Down. Will had grown visibly anxious, his breaths becoming short and shallow. Eddie stared up at the sky, biting his lip and tapping his fingers on the side of his leg. Telltale signs whatever was happening made him anxious too. From what Kat understood, besides herself and El, Will also had a connection to the Upside Down and to Vecna. 

Together, they walked through the woods to a nearby field that cascaded down the hillside. The bottom half of it, closest to town, was rotten and decaying. Everything was covered with fuzzy film, like mold almost that puffed and spread with it was touched. Everyone stopped in their tracks, overwhelmed with the view in front of them. 

El kept going to where the vegetation had died. She picked up a dead flower and examined it. Kat walked with her and knew she had seen this somewhere before. She bent down to examine it all more closely.

“This looks like how the pumpkin patch did…” she noted, looking up at El who looked at her with a forlorn expression and solemnly nodded. 

Everyone looked out over Hawkins. Plumes and pillars of smoke reached up to the clouds. The biggest one was in the center of town, where all four gates met. The same red lighting that they all saw in the Upside Down was right in front of them. Anger and determination took over El’s features. Kat stood up and looked back at Eddie. He wouldn’t take his eyes off the tornado-like columns of smoke. As she followed his gaze, fury started to rumble inside of her. 

Vecna wasn’t going to take Eddie away from her. Not again. The battle might be over, but the war had only just begun.

previous chapter | the end

A/N: If you’ve made it this far, you have my undying gratitude. If you’ve liked, commented, or rebloogged, even if you’ve only read one chapter, thank you. I appreciate anyone who’s taken time out of their day to read any parts of my writing. If you’ve been here since the beginning of Foolin’, I just cannot thank you enough. I wanted to give Eddie the ending he deserved and ending up creating a bad ass OC in the process. I’m still amazed I was able to see their story through to completion. Kat and Eddie will always have a place in my heart and I hope they will in yours too. Til next time!

#eddie munson #eddie munson au #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x ofc #eddie munson fix it fic #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things 4 fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #nancy wheeler #argyle #jim hopper #joyce byers #will byers #mike wheeler #jonathan byers

[ghost-with-a-teacup]

𝐈'𝐝 𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐧 𝐀𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐞𝐚 ~ 𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Summary: Despite everything the greatest love stories have depicted; grand displays of romance with a thousand roses and expensive perfume or dramatic reunions in the pouring rain closed off with a kiss, there was something so pure about the simple kind of love. Soft kisses shared as you cook dinner after a long day, cuddling close as a movie plays in the background, all the domestic things. Just existing in someone else’s space with them feeling as comfortable you do, and having that be enough? That was the best kind of love.

Luckily for you, that was exactly what you shared with the lovely Donna Beneviento, that simple kind of love.

Warnings: None! Still just very fluffy fluff.

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Reader

Note: This has been a wip for way too long, so today I finally sat down and finished it :)) Idea was given to me by the lovely @thatvictorian so thank her for that, lol. Happy reading, my lovelies~

Despite everything the greatest love stories have depicted; grand displays of romance with a thousand roses and expensive perfume or dramatic reunions in the pouring rain closed off with a kiss, there was something so pure about the simple kind of love. Soft kisses shared as you cook dinner after a long day, cuddling close as a movie plays in the background, all the domestic things. Just existing in someone else’s space and having them feel as comfortable you do, and have that be enough? That was the best kind of love.

Luckily enough for you, this was exactly what you shared with the lovely Donna Beneviento, Maiden of Mist Valley and one of the Four Lords of the Village. It took a long while to become friends with Donna, let alone grow close enough to become lovers. Over the course of her life walls around herself were inevitable, and only hardened as time went on. But piece by piece you gently took the wall apart, not breaking her walls down but rather uncovering the layers slowly until there was nothing else but her. Donna, your sweet Donna, the love of your life.

You watched her now as she sat on the couch by the fireplace, needle and thread in hand as deft fingers expertly sewed fabric together, a key component to the doll she had been working on for a few days now. The house was quiet, Angie having been put down for a nap (thank the Gods. You loved the doll, truly, but the chaos she created at times…it definitely called for breaks) The only sounds being the soft crackle of the fireplace and the occasional humming as you waited for the kettle to boil. Your eyes trailed over her movements with a sort of delicate delight as you prepared the teapot, a little grin playing across your face as you brewed tea for the both of you. What divine being had deemed you worthy enough to be by Donna’s side, you wondered? Even so, you were grateful nonetheless.

Eventually the loud whistling of the kettle broke you out of your reverie, the obnoxious sound interrupting the peace that had fallen over the two of you. Quickly you made your way over, taking it off the stove and bringing it back to the teapot where you had prepared some Blue Lady Earl Gray tea. It was a favourite of Donna’s and yours after a long day, the aroma alone settling your nerves with ease.

Carefully you poured the boiling water into the ceramic teapot. It was a set you had brought home a little while back, its colour a pale blue with delicate little snowdrops painted on the side. The set came with three matching teacups of the same design, perfect for the two of you as well as Angie when she settled down enough. How she drank tea was…still a mystery (you figured it was due to Donna’s immense love for tea, but you couldn’t be sure).

Setting the kettle back down on the stove, you moved towards Donna as you waited for the tea to steep fully. Making your way behind the setee, you wrapped your arms around her shoulders before pressing a tender kiss to her forehead, fingertips running through her dark hair just the way she liked it. At the action Donna’s cheeks flushed pink before her lips curled into a smile. Tilting her head back she met your gaze, her golden eye sparkling with playfulness.

“I hope you made that tea properly, darling” she teased, making you huff dramatically.

It was one time, just once, you had let the tea steep for too long. When you had brought it over to Donna she looked as though she were ready to spit it back into the cup but swallowed it solely for your sake. Granted it was a lower quality black tea so you supposed her reaction was acceptable, but she has never let you live that down since.

Apparently the tea was so far below her quality standard that she had to give you an in-depth lesson right afterwards to ensure it never happened again. If there was one thing she took seriously, it was tea. Thinking back now it was quite the funny memory, one you hold fondly to your heart. Oh, how hilarious the face she made was, nose scrunched and lips pursed like a baby with a lemon. It made you giggle even now.

“Oh, how you doubt me so! I’ll have you know I am perfectly capable of brewing a tea up to your standards milady,” you quipped back sarcastically, making Donna shake her head as she chuckled under her breath.

“We shall see then, my love~” she said. You knew it was all in good jest. After all this time you have mastered just the way Donna liked it and she always told you as much. No milk, no sugar, just the simple cup of tea as it is. “Any well brewed tea will be perfect on its own, the combinations of flavors and aromas mingling and enhancing each other without need for anything else,” she had said once.

“Hm~ We shall,” you said with a smirk, unraveling your arms and making your way back over to the table. Popping open the lid for a moment you checked the coloration of the tea. It was that rich umber colour you were searching for; perfect. It was ready.

Grabbing the teacups from the cabinet you poured out the liquid gold before carrying them back over to the sitting area where Donna was sat. Holding out the cup towards her she places the fabric down onto her lap, fingers grazing yours as she took it from your grasp. Then you settled in by her side, knees propped up beneath you comfortably.

Turning towards her you watched in a sort of childish anticipation, eagerly awaiting her opinion even now. She glanced at you from the corner of her eye before her lips quirked upwards at the sight, but she didn’t say anything. Lithe fingers gently grasped the small handle, inhaling the scent of the warm tea before taking a sip. She hummed in contentment before smiling at you softly.

“Wonderful as always, my love,” she said, her low voice soothing to your ears and mind.

“Anything for you, darling,” you say in response, a goofy smile on your face at the thought of making her happy.

Her gaze only softens considerably more than it already was before she turns back to her work. Placing the teacup back down onto the saucer with a gentle clink, she takes back into her hands the fabric she was sewing. The few words shared between the two of you were more than enough in this moment.

Settling in a bit more you sipped your own tea as you watched her work, unconsciously leaning in closer as you did so. Like planets and their attraction to the sun you were pulled into her warmth and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

There was a sort of gentleness to loving Donna. Soft touches and whispered words breathed into the short distance between your lips, bodies intertwined as you held each other in the morning light and little grins arising from inside jokes you both shared. Loving her is soft and sweet, lovely and tender. She was everything to you, and you would try your hardest to make sure she knew of that each and every day.

Placing your cup down on the table next to hers, you scooted in closer to her as through gravity was pulling you close.

“Donna,” you called out softly. She hummed in acknowledgment, her focus still directed on sewing fabric however. Taking a different course of action, you capture her cheek in your hand to turn her head and face you, the other covering her work momentarily.

For a moment you can only look into her eye, enraptured by the swirling gold that it was. So prettily did it shine even despite the dim light. Gently your thumb strokes over the bottom of her scar, prompting a small shiver to run up her back much to your delight. It was a major insecurity she had, but you made sure to let her know that it was simply a part of who she was, and that loving her meant loving every part of her, even the parts she didn’t like.

Slowly you pulled her close before pressing your lips to hers in a tender kiss. It was a simple one, no bright flames of passion and lust…and yet even so it still portrayed the immense love you held for her in that single action. Innocent and soft but with that subtle spark, one you would never tire of.

Pulling away you see her flushed cheeks and slightly parted lips, prompting you to place another quick peck to her lovely lips with a grin.

“What brought that on, darling?” she asked, so quietly it was almost a whisper because of her embarrassment. It was so endearing you thought surely your heart would give out any moment.

Pressing your forehead against hers, you whisper into the air between; “Just…you, Donna. Only you.”

#donna #donna beneviento #donna x reader #donna beneviento/reader #resident evil village #resident evil imagines #donna is just so pretty #resident evil donna #donna beneviento x reader #lady beneviento #resident evil 8

[benchowmein]

I'm never not thinking about this piece by Elizabeth Parker, a woman born in 1813. In miniscule cross stitch lettering (the fabric is 85.8cm by 74.4cm she details her story of mistreatment by her employers and her self-perceived sinfulness. Find the V&A's high-quality scan here and a transcript following the image below:

As i cannot write I put this down simply and freely as I might speak to a person to whose intimacy and tenderness I can fully intrust myself and who I know will bear with all my weaknesses....

I was born at Ashburnham in the county of Sussex in the year 1813 of poor but pious parents my fathers occupation was a labourer for the Rt Hon the Earl of A my mother kept the Rt Hon the Countefs of A Charity School and by their ample conduct and great industry were enabeled to render a comfortable living for their family which were eleven in number William Samuel Mary Edmond Jesse Elizabeth Hannah Jane George Louisa Lois endeavouring to bring us up in the fear and admonition of the lord as far as lay in their power always giving us good advice and wishing us to do unto others as we would they should do unto us thus our parents pointed out the way in which we were to incounter with this world wishing us at all times to put our trust in god to Walk in the paths of virtue to bear up under all the trials of this life even till time with us should end. But at the early age of thirteen I left my parents to go and live with Mr and Mrs P to nurse the children which had I taken my Fathers and Mothers advice I might have remained in peace until this day but like many others not knowing when I was well of in fourteen months I left them for which my friends greatly blamed me then I went to Fairlight housemaid to Lieut G but there cruel usage soon made me curse my Disobedience to my parents wishing I had taken there advice and never left the Worthy Family of P but then alas to late they treated me with cruelty too horrible to mention for trying to avoid the wicked design of my master I was thrown down stairs but I very soon left them and came to my friends but being young and foolish I never told my friends what had happened to me they thinking I had a good place and good usage because I never told them to the contrary they blamed my temper. Then I went to live with Col P Catsfield kitchenmaid where I was well of but there my memory failed me and my reason was taken from me but the worthy Lady my Mistress took great care of me and placed me in the care of my parents and sent for Dr W who soon brought me to know that I was wrong for Coming to me one day and finding me persisting against my Mother for I had forsaken her advice to follow the works of darkness For I acknowledge being guilty of that great sin of selfdestruction which I certainly should have done had it not been for the words of that worthy Gentleman Dr W. he came to me in the year 1829 he said unto me Elizabeth I understand you are guilty of saying you shall destroy yourself but never do that for Remember Elizabeth if you do when you come before that great God who is so good to you he will say unto you Thou hast taken that life that I gave to you Depart from me ye cursed but let me never hear those words pronounced by the O Lord for surely I never felt such impressions of awe striking cold upon my breast as I felt when Dr W said so to me.

But oh with what horror would those words pierce my heart to hear them pronounced by an offended God But my views of things have been for some time very different from what they were when I first came home I have seen and felt the vanity of childhood and youth And a bove all I have felt the stings of a guilty Conscience for the great Disobedience to my parents in not taking their advice wherewith the Lord has seen fit to visit me with this affliction but my affliction is a light affliction to what I have deserved but the Lord has been very merciful to me for he has not cut me of in my sins but he has given me this space for repentance. For blessed be God my frequent schemes for destroying myself were all most all defeated. But oh the dreadful powerful force of temptation for being much better I went to stay with Mrs Welham she being gone out one day and left me alone soon after she was gone I thought within myself surely I am one of the most miserable objects that ever the Lord let live surely no one ever had such thoughts as me against the Lord and I arose from my seat to go into the bedroom and as I was going I thought within myself ah me I will retire into the most remotest part of the wood and there execute my design and that design was that wilful design of self destruction

But the Lord was pleased to stop me in this mad career for seeing the Bible lay upon the shelf I took it down and opened it and the first place that I found was the fourth chapter of S. Luke where it tells us how our blessed Lord was tempted of Satan I read it and it seemed to give me some relief for now and not till now have I been convinced of my lost and sinful state not till now have I seen what a miserable condition I have brought myself into by my sins for now do I see myself lost and undone for ever undone the Lord does take pity of me and help me out of this miserable condition. But the only object I have now in view is that of approaching death I feel assured that sooner or later I must die and oh but after death I must come to Judgement what can I do to be saved what can I do to be saved from the wrath of that God which my sins have deserved which way can I turn oh whither must I flee to find the Lord wretch wretch that I am who shall deliver me from the body of this death that I have been seeking what will become of me ah me what will become of me when I come to die and kneel before the Lord my maker oh with what confidence can I approach the mercy seat of God oh with what confidence can I approach it. And with what words must I chuse to address the Lord my maker pardon mine inquity pardon mine inquity O Lord for It is Great Oh how great is thy mercy oh thou most merciful Lord for thou knowest even the secret desires of me thine unworthy servant. O Lord I pray the Look down with an Eye of pity upon me and I pray the turn my wicked Heart Day and night have I Cried unto the Lord to turn my wicked Heart the Lord has heard my prayer the Lord has given heed to my Complaint. For as long as life extends extends Hopes blest dominion never ends For while the lamp holds on to burn the greatest sinner may return Life is the season God has given to fly from hell to rise to Heaven the Day of grace flees fast away their is none its rapid course can stay. The Living know that they must die But ah the dead forgotten lie Their memory and their name is gone They are alike unknowing and unknown. Their hatred and their love is lost. Their envy's buried in the dust By the will of God are all things done beneath the circuit of the sun

Therefore O Lord take pity on me I pray Whenever my thoughts do from the stray And lead me Lord to thy blest fold. That I thy glory may behold Grant Lord that I soon may behold the not as my Judge to condemn and punish me but as my Father to pity and restore me For I know with the O Lord nothing is impossible thou can if thou wilt restore my bodily health And set me free from sin and misery For since my earthly physican has said he can do no more for me in the will I put my trust O blessed Jesus grant that I may never more offend the or provoke the to cast me of in thy displeasure Forgive my sin my folly cure Grant me the help I need And then although I am mean and poor I shall be rich indeed Lord Jesus have mercy upon me take me O kind shepherd take me a poor wandering sinner to thy fold Thou art Lord of all things itself death is put under thy feet O Lord save me lest I fall from thee never to rise again O God keep me from all evil thoughts The little hope I feel that I shall obtain mercy gives a happiness to which none of the pleasures of sin can ever be compared. I never knew anything like happiness till now O that I may but be saved on the day of judge-ment God be merciful to me a sinner But oh how can I expect mercy who went on in sin until Dr W remind me of my wickedness For with shame I own I returned to thee O God because I had nowhere else to go How can such repentance as mine be sincere What will become of my soul

(Paragraphs because tumblr can't handle long text blocks)

Until recently we knew nothing about Elizabeth beyond her own words. In 1998 an English historian discovered details of who she was and of her family. An American historian has uncovered new information which reveals that Elizabeth did not die young and alone. She became a schoolteacher at the Ashburnham Charity School, in her home village. Although Elizabeth never married, she raised her sister's daughter. At some point in the 1850s she moved into the Ashburnham Almshouses, where she died aged 76 on 10 April 1889. (This is from the V&A object description)

#like. literally changed me #elizabeth parker #suicide tw #rape tw #obviously not by name but she makes both those things clear

[jules-has-notes]

The Sing-Off, s.4 ep.4 — My Generation

The remaining four groups who hadn't competed in episode 3 did so in this one, and the the adherance to the theme was just as loose. It seems that the groups only had to choose songs that impacted a generation, not necessarily their own. Nonetheless, they all did a great job with what they had.

.

Group opener

[WARNING: The staging of this piece includes flashing lights.]

With fewer singers in the mix, the choreographers had a field day moving folks around and giving them big, dramatic steps to do, and it works really well. The arrangers did a great job transitioning between the songs, as well. And, of course, the competitors performed everything beautifully.

Details:

title: group B opening medley

original songs / performers: "My Generation" by The Who; [0:30] "We Will Rock You" by Queen; [1:00] "It's Time" by Imagine Dragons

written by: "My Generation" by Pete Townshend; "We Will Rock You" by Brian May; "It's Time" by Imagine Dragons

arranged by: The Sing-Off arrangers

air date: 16 December 2013

My favorite bits:

Austin and Honey dueting on the lead to kick things off

the way the arrangement passes the lead vocals around, even with fewer groups to feature

Earl leading the charge for the second section

Tony going hard with the dance moves up front

the percussionists bringing back the "We Will Rock You" drumbeat underneath "It's Time"

Earl throwing the horns while belting out that high note

just how much fun it looks like everyone's having

and VoicePlay once again being in easy-to-spot wardrobe

Trivia:

One of the Vocal Rush chaperones recorded a rehearsal for the kids from the audience. The video quality isn't great, but you can definitely hear everyone.

VoicePlay later also included an excerpt of "We Will Rock You" in their "Queen in 5 Minutes" medley.

.

Theme reveal

.

Order of performances

Home Free — "Ring of Fire" by Johnny Cash

VoicePlay — "Don't Speak" by No Doubt

Element — "You Keep Me Hangin' On" by The Supremes

Vocal Rush — "Holding Out For a Hero" by Bonnie Tyler

.

VoicePlay performance

[Here is another version with the intro package and judges' comments.]

The show was, above all things, a reality TV competition, so appealing to the judges' tastes was pretty important. VoicePlay had struggled to truly impress Ben Folds with their ecclectic musical style, so when he asked for more emotion and consistency, they gave it to him in their own special way.

Details:

title: Don't Speak

original performers: No Doubt

written by: Gwen Stefani & Eric Stefani

arranged by: Layne Stein, Eli Jacobson, & Honey Larochelle

air date: 16 December 2013

My favorite bits:

Layne starting with a bare percussion line, removing the need to count them in

the gradual layering and swells to reach a small emotional peak at the end of the first chorus

Geoff holding the low end steady so the higher voices can soar, and giving their sound more breadth

Eli's big old descending riff, and the moment of silence that lingers just long enough afterward

the repeated ♫ "I don't want to kno-ow" ♫ in the harmony lines after the bridge

the vulnerability of ending on just Honey's voice for the last few words

Trivia:

Layne took inspiration from Jeff Thatcher's percussion line in Rockapella's "Ellie My Love" for this arrangement.

Some viewers made fun of the gang's pattern-tastic wardrobe, but ska-punk fashion of the era was actually just kinda like that.

Of the four groups in this "my generation" themed episode, VoicePlay were the only ones who actually performed a song that was released during their formative years. Or their lifetimes, for that matter.

Layne's then-girlfriend Cyndi was in the audience cheering on her fella.

.

Judges' choice

.

Ultimate sing-off

Element vs. Vocal Rush — "Survivor" by Destiny's Child

Eliminated: Element

.

Since neither VoicePlay or Home Free ended up in the ultimate sing-off battle, they took the hard work they put into arranging and rehearsing "Survivor" and made their own video out of it.

#VoicePlay #Honey Larochelle #The Sing-Off #season 4 #live performance #a cappella #music #video #long post

[ladydelilah]

To Help a Gentleman (Ernest Sinclaire x MC) [one shot]

❀ Word Count: 1141

 ❀ Summary: 

Following the betrayal and death of his wife, Ernest Sinclaire turns to the only comfort he knows. Alcohol. As his addiction gets out of hand, Lady Victoria of Edgewater comes to his rescue.

________________________________

Before we begin, I would like to preface that this is just a free-writing exercise. This is also the first Desire and Decorum fan-fiction I've ever written. I'm not entirely happy with the story since it wasn't mapped out in advance. I think I did pretty well for never having written a piece from this time period.  I don't have much writing experience. My grammar may be inadequate at times. Apologies for any mistakes. I hope you enjoy!

_____________________________

Ernest leaned his curl-adorned head against the large Oak tree that lived on the property neighboring his own. He made a distinct effort to kept his gray-blue irises exposed to the cool fall air. He tampered with the edges of the soft white pages of the book that the Earl had loaned him from his personal library. He wasn't able to concentrate on the book. He could hardly even make out the words on the page. Each block of text warped into a large black mass. "I was foolish to think that I could read in my state." He groaned to himself as he ran a clammy palm over his face.

He felt as though his fine clothes were fiery pythons pouncing on their prey. Beads of sweat ran down his pale forehead though the broad leaves of the Oak swayed above him. He casted the leather-bound book out of his hands before making quick work of untying his cotton cravat and releasing the fabric into the autumn breeze. He watched the white square waltz out of his line of sight. He took quick, shallow breaths as his vision blurred before he finally succumbed to the darkness of his mind.

ஓ๑♡๑ஓ

"Mr. Sinclaire?" Victoria muttered to no one in particular as she spotted the gentleman leaned against her favorite tree in the distance. She always sought refuge in the garden, particularly in the shade of the Oak tree that sat at the furthest corner of the Edgewater grounds. She had made a dashing escape from Countess Henrietta's brutal remarks, per usual. She would often swipe a book from the library or her father's study before retreating to her shady green sanctuary. Today was no exception. Today's book of the day was Pride and Prejudice. Pride and Prejudice had been many days' "book of the day". She had finished over half of the book before she took tea with the Dowager Countess.

As she further approached the familiar man, she noticed his often stern eyes were closed and his usually neat clothes were disheveled. She had never seen him like this. She was in shock to say the least. She knew something was wrong. She hiked up her long silk skirts as she ran to the side of Mr. Sinclaire.

"Mr. Sinclaire! Sir!" She cried as she frantically shook the gentleman's arm. The smell of scotch wafted towards her. She could feel the heat radiating through his several layers of clothes. A pit grew in her stomach as she continued to nudge the man.

ஓ๑♡๑ஓ

Ernest was awoken by a gentle knock at the door. The sound, although soft, struck him like a lead pipe to the cranium. The sunlight seeping through the thin curtains scalded his retinas even through his closed eyelids. The pain pried his eyes open, further exposing him to the morning rays. He noticed Lady Victoria peering at him coyly from behind the doorframe. She wore her usual soft smile, but this time it was laced with an emotion Ernest couldn't quite put his finger on.

"May I come in, sir?" She inquired when she noticed Ernest's newfound consciousness.

He silently nodded, trying his best to smile. 

As she approached him, he noticed the steaming mug in her hand.

"Ginger Lemon tea." She stated, placing the mug on the nightstand.

"It works wonders." She winked with a giggle.

Her laugh made the butterflies in Ernest's stomach escape from their cocoons.

"Thank you, my lady. It is much appreciated." He takes a sip of the warm beverage.

"Of course! Are you feeling alright? Do you need me to do anything for you?" 

"You've been a great help already." 

Lady Victoria stands up but before she can get very far, Ernest grabs her hand, gently reeling her back in.

"Lady Victoria, I must ask, is the book alright?"

"The book?" She said as she sits on the edge of the bed.

"Yes. The book I borrowed from your father. The Iliad. Is it in decent condition?" He asked with concern lacing his voice.

"Mr.Sinclaire, do not spare a second thought for the book. I'd suppose that book is the least of your troubles." Lady Edgewater answered with a grimace.

Ernest shoots the woman a confused glance.

"Why, sir, you can't be serious! You mustn't think it acceptable to pass out, inebriated in the garden of your neighbor!"

"No. I suppose you're correct. My apologies, my lady." His voice rattled with shame.

"I thank you, sir. Although, I am not so worried about properity as I am for your health and well-being. I understand loss can be hard. But you cannot let yourself be buried with the one you love."

His eyes start to burn and well with tears. He doesn't know if he is crying for the loss of his wife, the death of his wife, or the shame and embarrassment of Victoria's truthful words.

She wipes the tears from the man's face.

"My father knows. I couldn't get you to bed by myself. Aside from him I will tell no one of the events that occurred today. I'm sure people are speculating about your whereabouts already. As far as anyone is concerned, you are in a business meeting with the earl. I, myself, have suffered many losses. I have taught myself to cope. Now I will teach you."

"Thank you, my lady!" He said eagerly.

He lets out a small cough. "Thank you." He said, correcting his enthusiasm.

"You best be on your way before the servants come in and get the wrong idea." She grins once again.

"Yes, thank you, Victoria." 

When he realized his mistake it was too late to correct it.

"Victoria, eh?" She scoffed.

"My apologies. I-"

"You think just because you're in my bed you can call me by my given name?" She jokes with fake alarm.

A bright blush spread on Mr. Sinclaire's cheeks, earning a hardy chuckle from the woman beside him.

"I'll be taking me leave." He scurried away, flustered.

________________________

#desire and decorum #choices #choices stories you play #ernest sinclaire #choices stories we play #pixelberry #pixelberry studios #mr sinclaire x mc

[cinderflower]

Hello! I really enjoy your Lothric and Lorian works on AO3. There’s this theory that I’ve been a little obsessed with since I saw it. The theory is that Lothric tried to pass down or share his curse with the Curse Rotted Greatwood. I’m not quite sure how popular the theory is or how much in game information there is to back it up, but it’s something I find very interesting. Every time I fight the Curse Rotted Greatwood again or listen to the song I always think of Lothric now since the hand looks just like his! I just wanted to know your thoughts on this theory since in your works you always have an amazing grasp of the world and characters. Thank you and I love your writing!

First of all, thank you so much that means a lot!! <3 As for your question, I had to go back and dust off my old notes from when I was writing RM because I actually thought about the CRG a lot but ultimately ended up not using it based on my interpretation. But I think it's a very fascinating theory!

This answer did get away from me a little bit (or maybe a lot a bit) so I'm going to put it under a cut:

The main thing that I found fascinating about CRG is also the thing that I couldn't quite puzzle my way around and caused me to ultimately avoid mentioning it entirely - which is what exactly is considered a curse and how was the spirit tree used to handle it. There are two really great in-game descriptions that I found to try and explain it. For the first, what is considered a curse, I took a look at one of the items you can transpose from the CRG soul - Arstor's Spear. The weapon description is: "One of the curses that festered within the belly of the Greatwood, and a terrible weapon favored by Earl Arstor the Impaler. The spear is enwreathed in rotten, heavily poisonous meat." So, by that description, the curse is the spear itself. What exactly caused the spear to be cursed though? Was it the brutal nature in which it was used? Or is it due to the "meat" that's coating the spear? I'm tempted to think it's the latter, but it could just as well be the former. Either way, what the description does confirm is that the spear wasn't "cleansed" it was just put in the spirit tree, which ties into the next lore puzzle piece. How was the spirit tree used to handle curses? Given the spear description, the curse/cursed item was simply stored away so it couldn't cause more harm. This seems to be backed up by the CRG description: "Ever since its establishment, all manner of curses have managed to seep into the Undead Settlement. The worst of them were sealed away inside a spirit tree, but eventually the curses took their toll." Based on that logic, my thought was that the only way to use the spirit tree for curses was to put the cursed item - or person - into the spirit tree itself. I think this is also supported to some extent by the concept art:

Based on what we can see, it looks like the CRG certainly contains a lot of hollows as "buds", and even during the fight we see the CRG shake endless hollow out of it. I always found the extra limb growing out to be very reminiscent of the infected corpses & corpse grubs you can find in the Cathedral of the Deep:

To be so drastically affected though, I think it would take a lot more than a handful of hollows - and this is where I think the Mound Maker's presence comes into play given their pit of hollows was directly below the spirit tree, and the tree's root system was directly connected to it. Presumably this meant the CRG also "absorbed" a lot of hollows through its roots. (I have many more thoughts / speculations about the Mound Makers, Evangelists, and the Undead Settlement, but I'll spare you those details) Given everything above, my interpretation was that the CRG was not afflicted by just any curses but specifically the "undead curse" that afflicts the hollows, and it transformed the spirit tree in a similar way that the parasitic maggots infected and overtook the corpses at the Cathedral & also how the undead curse affects hollows - it looks dead and yet it is clearly still alive in some capacity though more as a husk. Now from a Lothric perspective specifically, given the above and as much as I like to play with the idea of Lothric taking excursions beyond the castle walls (and also give him more mobility than he likely has for the sake of Plot), I think it's actually pretty unrealistic he ever got to leave due to his health and his status. I do think he undoubtedly heard of it and was likely intrigued by the spirit tree's supposed capabilities to handle curses and how he might be able to use it for his own situation, but never got an opportunity to act upon it. But, then again, my whole analysis above is all from my own interpretation - who's to say Lothric didn't get a chance to leave the castle and try some new unproven method to use the tree to cleanse his curse? The undead settlement was clearly connected to the high wall at some point based on the carriages afer all. Or maybe when he was born and everyone realized how bad the curse was and how it was impacting Lothric's health & future potential as Lord of Cinder, maybe Oceiros & others took him to the spirit tree and put him inside to try and "cleanse" him, ultimately leading to the corruption. We don't have any confirmation one way or another, so just because I may interpret it one way doesn't mean another interpretation couldn't also be just as likely! After all, isn't this the fun of souls lore? All we get is the environmental details, a handful of item descriptions, and then we just have to take a leap of a whole lot of speculation. Everyone's theories are always slightly different too, which I adore! Sorry if this wasn't quite the answer you were looking for, and that this was MUCH longer than I intended it to be - I just love souls lore speculation so thank you for the ask 😊

#cinder answers #this will be my ask tag #cinder lore theories #this can be my lore tag #mmm I missed souls lorecrafting thank you anon <3

[omgsquee2001]

Chapter 2: Meeting the Others: Part 1

After meeting the Earl, Sebastian lead you inside to the room you would be staying in.

“We have prepared this guest room for you.” Sebastian said. You looked around at it in astonishment.

“It’s lovely.” You said. Sebastian looked at you.

“Lovely you say? Thank you, I am very pleased to hear that.” He said with a smile. You walked into the room further. You noticed pottery lined along some of the shelves in the room. “Over the years, the Phantomhive Family has collected some of the finest historical pieces.” He explained. You walked over to a mantelpiece that had a picture of a man and a woman. The woman wore a beautiful, off the shoulder green dress embroidered with gold. Her hair was caramel colored. The male was a bit taller and looked a lot like Ciel, just, older. You looked over at Sebastian.

“Sebastian, who are these people?” You asked, pointing to the photo. Sebastian walked over and looked at the picture.

“Ah. That would be the previous Earl Vincent Phantomhive and his lovely wife, Rachel.” Sebastian explained. You hummed and looked at the the picture again.

“Hmm. I take it they were his parents?” You asked. Sebastian nodded.

“You would assume correctly, my Lady,” Sebastian said. “Apparently they were prominent figures, much loved by the community. The Queen evidently placed a great deal of trust in them,” Sebastian said. He looked at you and gave a smile. “You might ask my Master for more details at tea this afternoon, for now,” His sentence was cut short when a large blast shook the manner. Your eyes widened.

“What on earth was that?” You inquired. Sebastian gave you what looked like an annoyed smile.

“If you’ll please wait here, there is something I must attend to.” He said. You nodded in understanding.

“Of course.” You said.

~~~

Though Sebastian had told you to wait in the room, your curiosity as to what the blast had been got the better of you. After winding through the maze that was Phantomhive Manner, you made it to the servant’s quarters.

“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.” Sebastian’s voice said. You walked over to a room that Sebastian was standing in.

“It’s this bloody new burner we got!” A new voice shouted. “The blasted thing won’t work!” A metal clang was heard. Sebastian turned and saw you.

“Please Miss! Look out!” He shouted. Before you had time to blink, Sebastian quickly ran at you and pushed you to the ground, cradling the back of your head with his hand as you hit the floor, Sebastian laying over you. There was a blast heard and three yelps of pain. As soon as the blast cleared, Sebastian leaned up, looking down at you. “I am terribly sorry for that. Are you injured?” Sebastian asked. You shook your head slowly, your eyes wide.

“N-No. I’m quite alright.” You said. Sebastian sighed in relief and helped you sit up. Three people walked out into the door way. One of them had blonde hair that was standing up on end from the blast. He wore a chef’s outfit and had a guilty smile on his face. A cigar dangled from his lips.

“That was a pretty close shave there,” the male said, chuckling. “We came pretty close to starting a bloody great fire!” The male said. A female wearing a maids dress and large glasses on her face came walking out, a frown on her face. She had red hair pulled into pigtails. She growled.

“You did start a fire!” She chastised. A young boy, probably nineteen years of age, came running out, wearing a gardener’s outfit. A straw hat was tied around his neck. He had blonde hair, the same as the chef. All of then were covered in black soot.

“Are you alright? Sorry Sebastian,” the gardener said to Sebastian. His eyes wandered to you. “Oh hello. And who is this?” The boy asked. Sebastian turned to you and extended his hand.

“Miss?” You took his hand and he helped you stand up. He looked at the servants. “This is Lady [Y/N]. She is to be one of our esteemed guests at tonight’s ball,” he looked at you. “Miss, these are the other servants of the Phantomhive Manner. Bardroy, the chef, Mey-Rin, the maid and Finny, the gardener.” Sebastian introduced. You smile at them.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all.” You said. Finny smiled.

“Ooh, how exciting!” Finny exclaimed. Mey-Rin smiled at you.

“It’s always exciting to have a fancy new guest!” She said. Bardroy smiled.

“And she’s a right pretty little thing, in’t she ?” Bardroy said, making you blush lightly.

~~~

After leaving the servant’s quarters, you and Sebastian made your way back to the room you were originally in. Sebastian closed the door behind you two.

“I am terribly sorry you had to see that, even more so you were exposed to danger. I can’t apologize enough.” Sebastian said, lowering his head in shame. You shook your head.

“There’s nothing to apologize for, Sebastian. No one was hurt terribly bad, which is all that matters.” You said. Sebastian smiled slightly.

“You are very considerate, my Lady,” his smile vanished. “However, I do recall asking you to wait here. Every manner has it’s secrets, rooms that aren’t meant to be discovered. Walking about someone else’s manner strikes me as quite inconsiderate.” Sebastian said. You backed away sightly.

“I-It’s my first time being in a manner of this size,” you said quickly. Sebastian looked at you. “My Manner is no where near this size, so it’s my first time being in a manner of this size.” You said. Sebastian hummed.

“Ah. I see. I think I should compare you to a puppy that knows no fear,” Sebastian said. He pulled out his pocket watch and looked at the time. “We still have a little time left before tea this afternoon,” he put the pocket watch away and placed his hand over his heart. “Then allow me to quell your curiosity. If you’ll allow me, I can offer you a guided tour around the estate.” Sebastian said. He held out his hand. You hesitated a bit, then took his hand.

“I would love that, Sebastian. Please, lead the way.”

~~~

//Here is Chapter 2. I hope you enjoy it.//

#Black butler #black butler x reader

[goji-pilled]

I don't know if you're still looking for series recommendations but could I suggest my personal favourite series?

It's called D.Gray-Man and it's honestly one of the best written series I've ever come across. It's about a fourteen year old boy called Allen Walker who joined an organisation called the Black Order that use a power called Innocence (It's different for everyone; Allen's arm transforms, Kanda has a sword, Krory is basically a vampire, Miranda can control time, all of them are great) to fight against beings called Akuma created by the Millennium Earl.

It goes into a lot of deep topics but the main one is grief because Akumas are created by the Millennium Earl preying on people who have recently lost a loved one into making a deal that will bring back their loved one's soul but unfortunately that soul becomes the Earl's servant and they kill and steal the body of the one who brought them back. But it explores the points of view of both the people who lost and the people who were brought back. For example, Allen is valuable to the Order because he has a cursed eye that can see Akumas through their disguises, but he got that eye because his father figure that he brought back as a child was enraged that he would fall for the Earl's bargain and cursed him.

There's also so much well written development for all of the characters and it's honestly a bit of a mystery series but everything is set up so subtly you barely notice until about halfway through. It's a series that definitely gets better with repeated viewings.

Also, the artstyle is gorgeous. In the beginning, it's good but the artist's style now is downright ethereal, seriously I stare at her pieces for hours. Plus, the overall aesthetic of the series is inspired by gothic and Halloween tropes in everything from the architecture to the antagonists' designs to the overall feel of background elements.

Plus, Allen is such a unique protagonist. I know we've had dozens of 'Optimistic Teenage Boy With A Tragic Past' protagonists in shounen series but Allen's optimism is different. His optimism is more of a coping mechanism, it's pretty much the only way he can get through everything he goes through. Considering his backstory as an orphan working in a circus, the best description I've seen for him is "a lonely clown with a painted smile" which sounds cheesy, I know, but it fits.

I should point out the series isn't finished. There was a lot of drama for a while when the writer had to take a break due to injuring her wrist and then higher ups tried to alter the story so there was a whole ordeal of her getting the full rights and recovering and an anime company completely ignoring her requests in regards to marketing but she's back to updating and it's usually every few months a new chapter comes out.

I would recommend reading the manga if you want to check the series out since obviously it has more of the story and again, Hoshino's artstyle is to die for. But the anime is fantastic too, with about 200 episodes and all of the few filler episodes being adaptations of the light novels written by the author's good friend, plus the continuation series D.Gray-Man Hallow that came out years later (after the whole rights debacle). Plus a certain arc has a song as an important plot point and that scene in the anime makes me sob every time.

I'm not really sure about warnings, there is some vague body horror but they never really go too into it and a few characters have backstories of human experimentation but that's about all I can think of.

I'm really sorry for such a long freaking essay of a recommendation but I adore this series and would love to get someone else to watch it (all my friends refuse). I really hope this didn't annoy you but considering your love of the themes and characters of Madoka Magica, I thought it might appeal to you so I took a chance. Again, sorry for the behemoth of an ask. If nothing else, please look up Katsura Hoshino's artwork. It's gorgeous.

Its been a long long time since I had a recommendation on here but all of this sounds very interessting.

I do however also have the attention span of a toaster, like I barely managed shows with a bit more than 20 epsiodes (like Kill La Kill, The Ancient Magus Bride, Evangelion, etc.) and I have a bunch of stuff I started and haven't finished yet (Jujutsu Kaisen, Violet Evergarden, and more) so the anime will probably not be it...

The manga however.... I have a suprising talent at binging mangas, like I read all of Chainsaw Man (and another one that I won't name) in two days, I binged over 130 chapters of JJK in two days as well so. I can see myself reading it yeah.

So I am adding it to my list, even if it might take a long time because I have like 120+ different series on my list but I'll get it to it eventually, and thank you for the recommemdation!

#felix answers