#on the surface it looks like she's just taking over the family's mansion

[evita-shelby]

National Anthem

Chapter 10

Cw: mentions of sex (duh) period typical misogyny, some racism and technically a curse

Tag list: @thegreatdragonfruta @zablife @cljordan-imperium @call-sign-shark

Easter 1923

Ever since he was a kid, Jack’s dreamed of owning the world.

His apartment had been good, modern and spacious and perfect for a bachelor. When his ambition decided he needed a wife to complete his success, he looked for a perfect starter house.

One that would be seen as the beginning of his rise, one that would become the steppingstone for his future.

He’d carried Eva over the threshold just as he’d done when he took her to the townhouse he shared with Carrie for Gina’s sake. He had fucked her in every surface of the house, built a marriage that would have everyone doubt this had been an arrangement made in the span of a week.

Their current home was great, perfect for a growing family with a long veranda for the children, a garage that was every middle-class car aficionado’s dream and yet it won’t be long before they leave it too.

Jack never dreams small; he hadn’t known exactly what this dream home would be until he saw Rockwood Hall.

J.D. Rockefeller had made the second largest mansion in all of America, so grand that his own descendants had to sell it after his death. So grand only the Rileys could afford it now that they gained government contracts through his connections.

“We should get one of these.” He says as he takes Rosie in his arms and the boys run off to play with the other children.

Little Jack turns back long enough to hug his mother goodbye and Little Joey is already yelling at the boys he met at the last family gathering. They gather with her family for the big holidays after that fiasco during the first thanksgiving when the twins were born.

They’d spend Easter here, the 4th of July at home, come here for September 16th before the boys start their first day of school –of which he’s taking the day off work because Eva said so--- and miss Florida because Eva was due in November.

Katherine Drusilla Nelson, Duchess of Devonshire and conceived in the most coveted bed in the world on Valentine’s Day. Named for his late elder sister who died of consumption along with Gina and their mother, and for Eva’s aunt, the formidable Olivia Drusilla Riley de Souza.

Livia doesn’t like him, told him to his face and repeated it that first Thanksgiving they hosted in 1919. Thought he was beneath them and unworthy of her favorite niece. But she practically raised Eva because her mother got the baby blues and so he put up with her…enough to have her share his daughter’s name.

“I like the one we rented in Hyannis Port for July 4th last year, Malcom Cottage, was it? Although I am partial to the villa in Florida.” Eva mentions acting as if they had to choose between one. She grew up in several houses, always moving about with the parents or relatives caring for her when she wasn’t in school.

“Why settle for one, when we can have it all?” It’s like when she asked if they could keep the tradition of middle names for their children because the two of them also had middle names, she didn’t even need to ask to know the answer is always yes.

Besides his witch of a wife has never been wrong before, never will be if you ask him.

“About fucking time, I hate telling people you live in the suburbs, that’s so middle class.” Gina said making her dear uncle reprimand her for swearing in front of the children.

“Language, Gina.”

While Rosie struggled with talking, she’d picked up swearing with ease. She learned to say shit from hearing Jack hurt himself in the garage one fucking time.

Their sweet little angel smiled impishly and muttered the word ‘fuck’ as she bit the gold crucifix they got her for Easter.

Well, they were never gonna make angels anyways.

Family gatherings were fine, for the most part. Sure, her aunt would make backhanded remarks towards Jack in her face, while also outright insulting him outright the moment her back was turned, it went well mostly.

It wasn’t because he was American, new money nor a gangster. It was simply because he wasn’t Cornelius Vanderbilt IV, the man Livia had picked out for her like he was a new dress she’d gifted her.

Vanderbilt seemed nice, but he was rather boring. Well, boring in comparison to Jack who then had desecrated a confessional with her and boldly taken her to his place where they planned their future after he made her scream herself hoarse in pleasure.

Had Jack not been so good in bed ---and out of it--- maybe Eva would have been Mrs. Vanderbilt and kept the rebellious Vanderbilt heir from being bankrupt and disinherited from his family.

“I just don’t see what you see in him.” Livia looked at the man as if he were something the cat dragged in as he roughhoused with the boys in the garden. “He’s too full of himself, he has no class, he’s too hairy, his features all look like his face is too big to hold them, what did he have that Cornelius didn’t besides a business degree and a gang?”

Eva always gets this question and she’d just shrug and answer with something equal parts vulgar and the usual ‘I don’t really know’, this time she says the one thing that matters to someone who married for money and influence. “Because he will take us places we never even reached in Mexico, and that sweet little boy named after his father, will be the youngest president this country will have.”

Her aunt is impressed, she had been disappointed thinking Eva was like her mother who married because she saw true love with her father even if he had nothing but a stolen watch to his name.

Eva was not like her mother, she could never be happy with a man who didn’t want more, Jack had ambition and lucky for her, would only ever be hers.

“I suppose I can see something about him now. If he is taking us further than we ever could’ve done at home, I could even call him my nephew. After all people marry into our family, they never marry out of here.” Her red-haired aunt changed her tune exactly like the witch had known it would happen.

Jack is wary of Livia’s sudden acceptance for the rest of the day, utterly stumped at why she’d stop being such a bitch to him. But he enjoys it, loves pushing her buttons to see how long this kindness lasts.

“What did you tell her when you were out on the balcony with her?” he asks when they are finally alone in their luxurious suite complete with a nursery. The boys were having a sleepover with her cousin Francisco’s son across the wing and Rosie had claimed the princess bed in her own room.

Last time they were here, the Nelsons hadn’t been able to enjoy the bed as they had hoped and now wanted to make up for it. And they had since they put the children to bed.

“She asked why I chose you that day and I answered honestly for once.” Eva answered teasing him, toying with the curly hairs on his chest knowing he would guess wrong.

“You told your aunt we defiled a church for our first date?” he asks, taken aback by it. Everyone knew they had obviously fucked while on the maybe ten dates they had. Once they’d been so insatiable for each other they’d snuck off at dinner to fuck in a broom closet.

“God, no, she would’ve killed the two of us.” Eva shook her head. “I told her little Jack Nelson Junior’s going to be president of the united fucking states of America. If she still doesn’t like you after that, Junior might remember it when he’s living at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.”

“Threatening your auntie for me, Evie. How sweet of you. You deserve a reward.” He is so proud of her and touched by what she did that he adds a spontaneous, “I love you.”

He is not fond of saying it in public, but oh he is as sweet as honey the moment the doors close. Usually, it is her who says it first these days.

“I love you too.” Eva kissed him hoping to show her love in a much more passionate way, but the second Jack gently moved her underneath him they hear Gina’s girlish scream followed by crying and slurs from the blonde girl’s own mouth.

“I told you we shouldn’t have brought her.” Jack groaned and both rushed to find their clothes. “I’m putting her on the next train to Manhattan, let her mother deal with her for the rest of Easter.”

It is uncharitable to say, but if one of the girls hit nineteen-year-old Gina, she likely deserved it. Her time at university had actually made her worse, the only people to blame are the sorority she joined and herself. Unfortunately, she was expelled for her shitty behavior and won’t be going back next week.

They are in New York when they see Shelby again.

He is here to ensure the custody of his son whom the world will believe was Clive’s because Grace wanted to keep her dignity. Jack was here for business matters relating to the will since little Charlie would inherit a portion of Jack’s companies.

“She is cursed, you know.” Eva speaks quietly in rromani so Grace nor Jack know what is being said as she tries to argue for her son’s inheritance. “Even my husband can smell the death on her skin like perfume.”

“If I don’t marry her my son will not be mine.” He admits. There was regret in his voice, a look that said that the Grace he loved was not the woman he is getting to know.

The real Grace wants to be accepted by the class that hates people like Eva, Tommy and even Jack. The real Grace feels no guilt because her happiness is what comes first always. The real Grace is not the persona she crafted in 1919 to get his attention.

But it was too late now.

“She won’t live to see his third birthday, if you marry her, you will go mad with her death knowing Polly Gray’s curse came true because of you.” The witch warns him, as much as she hates Grace for breathing she doesn’t want the blonde dead.

“Your husband wants her gone from America even if it kills her.” he points out.

Jack wants her dead for what she did to Clive, for what she did to their IRA contacts and because she is just as phony as the rest of her ilk.

“If a woman drove your friend to suicide for a man in love with a mirage of her, you would hate her too.” Eva replied honestly making Shelby wince.

“You witches think you know everything, don’t you?” he deflects thinking he can fool her like he fools Grace.

“That’s because we do. Come February of next year and you will be burying her as Mrs. Shelby and yourself as the fool who killed her. If you let her and the boy go, she will hate you but live to raise her son and see her grandchildren. Do you love her enough to let her go once and for all?”

Grace leaves the lawyer’s offices with the threat of having Charlie MacMillan’s true paternity exposed on every tabloid here and across the pond if she marries Tommy Shelby because even Jack doesn’t want her blood on his hands. She can have respectability and life, or death and infamy attached to the Caron and Burgess names the second she becomes Mrs. Shelby.

And yet that same summer they receive an invitation from Grace for their wedding in January of 1924 at Arrow House, the estate she doesn’t know he bought with May in mind. Her family will not even stick around for the funeral out of the shame she brought them.

In the end, Grace dies because she refused to move on from Thomas Shelby no matter how hard he tried to drive her away.

#evacore #national anthem fic #jack nelson #jack nelson x eva smith #eva smith shelby #jack nelson x oc

[echantedtoon]

Demon Bride Ch62 Fate Is Up To You

(WARNINGS: Douma, Karaku, and Enmu ARE their own warnings. Possibly some innuendos. Mentioning of death.

Hey everyone. I just wanted to thank everyone who read this far and liked my story enough to read it to it's end. I had a lot of fun writing it and it makes me happy knowing some people loved it enough to read it fully. If you liked this consider checking out my other works. Thanks to everyone for reading this, faving it, or leaving a nice comment. And thank you to Koyoharu Gotouge for creating such wonderful characters and giving me the opportunity to make this wonderful story.

This ending is left for interpretation for whatever the reader decides happens to Y/n, her suitors, and her family. Whatever you decide or who she ends up with is entirely up to you. This is also a semi epilogue for how all the demons and everyone are doing after everything.

If I update this anymore it will be to showcase fanart.)

Two months had passed since the day they arrived back. Autumn was already here and in full swing as well. Things were also finally back to normal. Douma returned to his full strength and back to running his cult. Akaza and Upper Moon Four were all back taking care of humans on the surface and helping Kaigaku to reinforce the guard on the border. The murders and prisoners were all taken cared of and Enmu eventually tracked down the case of the missing box of chocolates to a servant whom stole it for Y/n. She was given a harsh warning and made to pay for it. 

Which meant that for him there was last end to tie up completely and that meant just waiting for a certain someone to arrive right about-

SLAM!!!

"I can NOT believe you did that behind my back, Kibutsuji." The door was slammed open and he calmly stood there as an angry woman stomped in holding her child on her hip. A deep frown on her face as Susamaru and Yahaba boredly walked right behind them. "That poor girl must've been put through so much because of you!"

"Good Evening, Lady Rei...I do hope your trip...was enjoyable." He stood there calmly as she marched past. 

"Hi, Uncle Koku!," the little girl called out with a wave.

He nodded to her. "Princess...You look as lovely as ever."

Rei rounded around and pointed past him at a tired and disheveled man whom just walked in. "YOU ARE IN BIG TROUBLE, MUZAN!!  Until you apologize to that poor girl and change what you've done, you can just sleep in your lab again!! I can not believe you would mess with matters so personal after the first time we spoke about her!! Don't even think about trying to flatter me because it wont work!" Her soft brown eyes then glanced at Kokushibo. "Oh. Hello Kokushibo. I'm sorry but I'm not feeling up to talking right now."

"Daddy's in trouble again."

Despite his position Kokushibo chuckled at the child's words. "It would seem so."

"Please just have our luggage brought to our chambers. I have a lot of unpacking to do while a certain someone thinks about what he's done." With another scowl she then turned and stomped off with her child cutely waving goodbye at him over her shoulder and the two demons in tow.

He calmly watched them go before his half lidded eyes turned to the slightly disheveled and tired looking Master of all demons. "Welcome back, Lord Muzan....I take it your trip...was eventful?"

"She hasn't stopped yelling at me for the past three days," the tired red eyed demon drawled out much to his silent right hands amusement. "She found one of the reports Enmu sent me and everything spiraled from there." A hand reached up to rub his temples. "I do hope you have better news that what I've been hearing all day."

"I do." A few papers were held up to his face. "Foremost...Tamayo has been confirmed..deceased. You shall no longer..need to worry about her. All prisoners.... responsible for treason has already been executed....The Tsuzumi Mansion is fully repaired...and many of our human branches has started...circulating more money into the territories. ..The budget for many more resources...and projects will be better funded by it."

"Is that all?" He did look interested especially when he mentioned Tamayo but he seemed more concerned by his obviously angry wife.

"There's a few meetings...in your schedule for expanding the territory..to the north and a few other important matters. However....I thought it would be beneficial for you to note that...there has been a shift in the Kizuki's behavior." 

That made his master pause in his steps and stop. Before he slowly straightened up and slowly looked at him removing his hand from his temples.  "Is that so? A shift in behavior in what way?"

"Nothing I would consider...concerning... But ever since Y/n Tamayo's arrival..there has actually been a positive effect in their...behaviors." The papers were shifted in his hands as his eyes looked over have lidded. "Lower Moon Six's progress has... remained the same but he has published...many books that seem to be popular with her... encouragement... Kaigaku has become stronger protecting her..and has won against Enmu in a blood battle...for title of Lower Moon One. Kaigaku..has also become more focused...still full of himself but focused."

"I see...It seems I'll be rearranging the ranks of the lower moons to reflect his new victory soon then. Anything else to report?"

Kokushibo nodded. "Hairou hasn't changed but...has done his job effectively as...always. But the quadruplet brothers...of Upper Moon Four has learnt to...get along better."

He rose a brow. "Really? Them?"

"I realize your skepticism...but I assure you it's true... Sekido is less verbally threatening to them... Karaku has seemed to finally learn modesty... Aizetsu has become more outspoken...and Urogi has learnt patience to not...jump into things so quickly without thinking...As for their younger brother.." Half lidded eyes looked at the papers again. "He is progressing well in his...Studies...They were terrible before..but with encouragement has been steadily progressing...and seemed to learn his lessons on attitude.. adjustment..After his last two years of schooling...I believe he may be able to rejoin...His brothers in Upper Moon Four."

He hummed. "Is that all you have to report?"

"There's more...Daki and Gyutaro has.. slowly started weaning off their obsessive.. codependency habits and Gyutaro has been...eating more. His body is now at a... almost healthy weight and he has...taken better care now. Douma..has become more...responsive to emotions now."

"That fumbling idiot? Kokushibo, I thought you knew better than most not to take me for a fool."

He calmly held up a hand. "I assure you..I speak nothing but the truth... Douma has broken through whatever barrier...that blocked his mind from human emotions...and keeps asking when he'll be granted a marriage to Ms. Tamayo... Whether that is a concerning issue..I do not know as of yet. Enmu has not changed...as far as I can tell..but his medicine has become better thanks to...the adjustments he made to it after observing...it's positive effects on both Douma..and the child you wished to raise. That's worth... looking more into. Akaza has..also not changed much..but he seems more emotionally and mentally happy..That also seems to be having a positive impact on...his workload." The papers were held out for his Master to take. "The three children...also in her care are starting to...act more positively mentally and emotionally...Rui is advanced in his studying..and will be able to skip three grades next year... Muichiro has become more outspoken..and Yuichiro has been slowly becoming more positive..They will be able to skip two grades..next year and be just one..grade behind Rui...Their fighting skills are still slowly progressing however...the Rui boy's physical health has gotten...much better."

Muzan slowly took the papers from his hand. Slowly looking them over one by one before flipping to the next page and then just slowly looking back to Kokushibo."You are certain about all of this?"

"As certain as you are...strong. Her presence seems to have...had a more positive impact.. despite the rumors and gossip...others give about her attitude and antics..."

"I see." After a moment he looked from the papers at Kokushibo. "Then perhaps making her a permanent residence would be more useful to us. Upper Moon One, send word to both Kaigaku and Enmu to come to the Infinity Castle so I may rearrange their placement in the ranks. But first see to it that you send the girl an apology on my behalf. I need to go prepare for all these meetings and explain things to my wife."

Kokushibo bowed his head respectfully. "Both shall...be done."

*****************************************************************************************

Books were being read. Papers were shuffled. And the scribbling of quills against paper was heard in the air as three boys shifted through them.

"Ugh! Math is so stupid!!," Yuichiro eventually shouted scowling at the paper.

"I know. I have to have the pervert explain it all to me...And I still hardly get it."

You chuckled at the two boys before looking back to your first letter. It was from Eri. She had officially left Kyogai's servitude and was currently living with her new husband near a lakeside town. She was starting out as a doctor's apprentice to learn more about human anatomy and medicine to become a doctor herself. Good for them both. You were happy for them. You then turned to your second envelope. It looked a bit heavier than the others. You grabbed it ifelt something inside. Curious, you cut the top with a sharp nail, turned it upside down, and shook it. Two things fell out. A note and a hair pin. You stared at the hair pin just... sitting there in your lap. The SAME hair pin you lost to that cat two months ago. Slowly you picked it up and stared at it.. before picking up the note and reading it.

'Chichumaru left this for us to find by the stairway. We thought you might've wanted it back. Sorry we couldn't deliver it in person. Hopefully we will meet again one day on better terms to talk if and when you want to.'

It had been nearly two months since that day and...Well you didn't know what to think. So many thoughts ran through your head. You are still angry at them both and rightfully so. They didn't even visit you in all the years you resided in your village and left you to be raised there...But at the same time you weren't sure if you could blame them. If you were living in secrecy from the moment you ran away and had a child, you would most definitely want to keep them safe. But..you weren't sure if you would've done it the same way they would've...You don't think you could ever separate yourself from your children. At least not forever.

"Mother." You turned to Rui who looked at you. "Are you alright? You look saddened."

You blinked. "Oh...Yes. I was just reading a few letters I got from some friends. You remember Eri don't you? She got married recently."

"Speaking of marriage, when are you going to be married?" Yuichiro looked up at you from a science book on moon phases. "You spent an awfully long time with Kokushibo Sensai. Does that mean you're going to marry him?"

"Hey! Don't forget about Father and Scary Dad!," Rui choked in and pointed at him. "I already vouched for them both!"

"Well what about Kaigaku?," Muichiro asked raising a brow, "Or Mr. Kyogai? Or the others? She hasn't made any choices yet...Wait." All the boys looked at you wide eyed. "Have you?"

You stared at them all for a moment before looking off. In truth..you actually had decided your choice about this entire thing. You thought about each individual person carefully. What they were like and how they could impact the boys. How they acted around you. What it was like if you just rejected them all . Or what would happen if you've chosen all of them. One of them. Or any combination of number of them specifically. What would happen if you just left. The pros and cons to EVERY. SINGKE. SCENARIO. You could think of. You had two months to think about everything. And at the end...you believed you did make a choice. You looked back to the boys. They deserved to know first since it would impact them too. You nodded.

"I have."

They look at one another in surprise and excitement. "Well what do you have to say?"

"I've decided-"

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #demon bride #daki #douma x reader #hantengu #douma #hantengu x reader #hantengu clones #zohakuten #karaku x reader #Karaku #aizetsu #sekido #urogi #sekido x reader #aizetsu x reader #urogi x reader #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro #enmu x reader #enmu #kokushibo x reader #kokushibo #kyogai x reader #kyogai #kaigaku x reader #kaigaku #akaza x reader

[tokito-dulya20]

NOSEBLEEDS AND PANIC ATTACKS

Kaichika and Ilona (oc and oc story)

Characters: Kaichika Haruka, Ilona Dulina

{WARNINGS: MENTIONS ON BLOOD (LOTS OF BLOOD), VIOLENCE, ANXIETY, PANIC ATTACKS}

[Ilona was only sitting in peace and writing a letter to the master, reporting a mission she just finished. Then things take a turn when she is in her half-demon form and she punches a mirror. No one heard the noise, but Kaichika did. Ilona gets her massive nosebleeds and her first panic attack]

In the Frost Estate, a place shrouded in mystery, the frost hashira, Ilona, found solace in the tranquility of her room. With a quill in hand and parchment before her, she diligently penned a letter to the master, detailing the successful completion of her latest mission. The room was adorned with nothing much.

As Ilona's thoughts flowed onto the paper, a sudden surge of energy coursed through her veins. Her body trembled, and her skin prickled with an otherworldly sensation. Before she could comprehend what was happening, her half-demon form emerged, causing her once gentle features to contort into something more fearsome. She heard a voice.. but in particular, the frost demon that bit her when she was only 10.

Ilona's eyes widened in disbelief as she heard the voice and caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. Without thinking, she lashed out, her fist colliding with the glass surface. The mirror shattered into a thousand shards, scattering across the floor. The noise was deafening, but amidst the hustle and bustle of the estate, no one seemed to notice.

Except for one.

The dance hashira, Kaichika, happened to be passing by Ilona's room when the sound of breaking glass reached her ears. Concern etched across her face, she hurriedly entered the room, only to find Ilona in a state of distress. Her hand began to bleed profusely, staining her pale hand with crimson, and her breaths came in rapid, shallow gasps. She was in tears..

Rushing to her side, Kaichika gently grasped Ilona's trembling hands, her voice filled with genuine worry.

Kaichika: Ilona, breathe. You're safe. It's just a panic attack. Focus on your breath, in and out.

Ilona struggled to regain control of her racing heart, her mind clouded with fear and confusion. The room seemed to spin around her, and she clung to Kaichika's words as an anchor in the storm. Slowly, she followed her instructions, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly, attempting to find her center amidst the chaos.

As Ilona's breathing steadied, Kaichika continued to offer words of comfort, her voice soothing and gentle.

Kaichika: You're not alone, Ilona. We're here for you. Take your time, and when you're ready, we can clean up the mess together.

Gradually, Ilona's panic subsided, and she felt a sense of calm wash over her. She looked up at Kaichika, gratitude shining in her eyes.

Ilona: Thank you, Kaichika. I don't know what came over me.

Kaichika smiled warmly, her hand still clasping Ilona's.

Kaichika: Sometimes, even the strongest among us need a moment of vulnerability. It's okay to let your guard down, Ilona. We're like a family here, and we'll always support each other.

With Kaichika's help, Ilona rose to her feet, her half-demon form receding as she regained control over her powers. Together, they carefully cleaned up the broken mirror, ensuring no trace of the incident remained. Kaichika noticed some blood coming down from Ilona’s nose. She found a tissue and held it up to Ilona’s nose, to stop the bleeding. She also saw Ilona’s bloody hand, so she went to one of Ilona’s servants.

Kaichika: Hey, sorry to disturb you but… Do you guys have any bandages? Ilona cut herself pretty bad

Servant: No Ms. Haruka, we just ran out of bandages.

Kaichika: Don’t worry, I’ll take Ilona with me to the Butterfly Mansion so Shinobu can wrap her hand. 

Kachika took Ilona with her to the Butterfly Mansion, so Shinobu could wrap her hand. Ilona felt really clingy to Kaichika for some reason. Later in the Frost Estate, Ilona learned that strength wasn't just about physical prowess. It was also about vulnerability, trust, and the unwavering support of those who stood by her side. And as she resumed her letter to the master, she knew that she was not alone in her journey, for she had found a friend in Kaichika, a pillar of strength in the face of adversity.

tagging: @theyslaydemons (THANKS FOR LETTING ME USE KAICHIKA FOR THE FANFIC!!)

#demon slayer #kny oc #kny oc i guess #ilona dulina #kaichika haruka

[black-occamy]

Remadora Microfics - Day 1: Haunted

Written for @remadoramicrofics October prompts, 916 words I almost failed in writing it on time...

Written as part of my Occamy-verse AU, so: everybody lives, everybody lives HAPPILY, there will be insane amount of fluff and cuteness, there will be mentions of polyamory.

The carousel began to rotate, children’s shouts overlapping with the merry music. Remus stood on the side with a bunch of other parents, watching the oversize teacups begin to swirl. He searched for Teddy’s blue hair with his eyes, noticing the boy was happily shouting something to the other kids in his cup. It wasn’t like he would be leaving them alone, he reminded himself.

“C’mon, Rem,” Dora tugged on his arm, much like a giddy kid herself. “They’re not gonna disappear if you stop watching for a bloody second.”

If anyone had bothered to ask him before, Remus would have a number of arguments as to why having a date night at the Muggle amusement park would not be his personal choice. Unlucky for him, neither Dora, nor Sirius bothered, instead arranging to take him and all the kids from Grimmauld Place to spend an evening out as a surprise. He didn’t even have his regular supportive voice of Gemma, who was out on the Auror business this week. Faced with a bunch of pre-purchased tickets, and the pleading eyes of Teddy and Lenore, he could hardly refuse.

Keep reading under the cut or on AO3 ❤

Remus spotted his daughter in another carousel vessel. She was completely focused on drawing more tattoos on Sirius, who was seemingly dozing off, one of his arms casually thrown over the edge of his seat. On the previous ride, it was Scorpius who had won the opportunity to ride with “Uncle Pads” and diligently drew even more rune-like symbols on Sirius’ palms than there was already. The boy apparently didn’t notice that as soon as the ride ended, all the drawings mysteriously disappeared.

“Rem, for Merlin’s sake,” Dora finally managed to pull him away, leading him through the crowd of people towards some other carnival attraction. “Sirius offered to look after those little monsters, stop worrying.”

“You know how I don’t like you two ganging up on me,” he complained half-heartedly, following her. His wife cast him a smug look over her shoulder and grinned.

“Cheer up, love. You’ve been spending too much time working lately, you deserve a break.”

Remus sighed. She wasn’t wrong there. Between preparing for classes and finishing his second book, he hardly had enough time to spend with the family and often he would just excuse himself and fall asleep before Dora was even done putting the kids to their beds.

“I know, I’m sorry for…”

“We’re here!” She interrupted him gleefully. “What do you think?”

He raised his eyebrows quizzically. They stood in front of a dilapidated construction that tried to pretend that it was a mansion of some sorts. Tattered curtains swayed on non-existent wind from broken windows. Front door, with remnants of torn-off wooden boards, was wide open, leading off to a dimly lit corridor. An older lady in black laced gown was sitting on a small chair next to it.

“Welcome to the Haunted House,” she sighed as they approached, shooting them a bored look from above the crossword puzzle. “Two tickets for you, lovelies?”

“Yes, please, ma’am!” Dora beamed, scooping the tickets from the crooked fingers. Remus fought the urge to roll his eyes.

The inside was no less cardboard-looking as the front, with flickering electric light pretending to be candle flame and artificial cobwebs covering almost every surface in amounts and patterns that somehow made him think of a really crochet-oriented spider. Dora snickered to herself, passing from room to room, while several jump-scare mannequins kept popping from left or right. There was an old bed linen with holes for the eyes, a skeleton with a few missing ribs, something that was barely resembling an old-school Dracula and a scrawny-looking furry creature that made Remus snort in amusement. He watched Dora as she wrapped her arm around the vampire-like mannequin and turned her face pale white to match it.

“Behold, overvorked mortal,” she called in an accent that didn’t resemble anything in particular, but somehow did indeed sound like a vampire should. “Vor I am Baroness ov dis mansion and I ‘ave cometh vor your blood!”

“Oh, woe on me,” Remus gasped, hiding a smile. “I’m all out of blood at the moment. Will cotton candy outside be enough, your baronessness?”

“Vot is dat cotton-candy ye speaketh ov, mortal?” Dora abandoned the mannequin and ran in his direction, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. She flashed him a smile, showing off she transformed her teeth into pointy fangs. For some reason it looked really good on her.

“Someone will see, Dora,” Remus protested weakly, not sure if he was thinking about her morphing ability or the sudden display of affection. She scoffed and rose to her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. He didn’t oppose that.

“You’re no fun sometimes, Remus,” she murmured, rubbing her nose against his. “Who cares if someone sees us? We’re bloody grownups, with kids, for Merlin’s sake!”

“Well, we’re also in public…”

“We’re in a public haunted mansion, big deal,” she gave him another kiss. “I have an idea. Let’s hide in that coffin, make out, and then scare the shit of some non-magicals, yeah?”

“Hmmm, yes to the first and to the second, but hell no to the third.”

“No fun, this one,” Dora sighed, pulling his arm. “C’mon then. We have about twenty minutes before Sirius gets nauseated from all the cup spinning and loses one of the kids. I hope it’s Teddy.”

“Mother of the year, my wife, everyone.”

“Shut up and kiss me, werewolf boy.”

#remadora #remus x tonks #remus lupin #nymphadora tonks #sirius black #my wizarding boyfriends #ao3 hp fanfic #ao3 fanfiction #occamy verse #remadora microfics october #Remadora microfics #pack dynamics #pack polycule #occamy-verse #Gemma Appleby #the black occamy #occamy writes

[xxblackballoonxx]

Electric: Chapter 16

Modern John Shelby AU

This fic is being posted simultaneously on FanFiction.net and Ao3. Classy smut warning beginning with Chapter 5.

Chapter 15 Chapter 17

Thanks for waiting on this one! Trying to live my best summer life over here.

Electric

Chapter 16: Fortress

"May I ask Ada, John, Arthur, and Finn to join me out on the terrace?" Tommy said after a few moments, letting the tension in the room settle.

John looked to Gemma who squeezed his arm and nodded. The siblings followed Tommy down the back set of stairs, out onto the stone terrace that would be used as outdoor space once the club officially opened.

Tommy handed a cigar to each of his brothers and then one to Ada, who wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"I want to take a moment to congratulate us together, as a family, for this place finally opening. It's a big achievement, especially in London, and I hope that this is just the beginning of greater success for the Shelby Company. Ada, don't worry, you don't have to smoke the cigar. It's just a symbol of our achievement."

Ada laughed, in spite of her simmering anger about Martha, and watched as Tommy flipped open a silver lighter, holding it to each cigar that their brothers held.

Finn started coughing immediately, Arthur patting his shoulder as he grinned. John inhaled the tobacco, a habit he'd quit years before, except for the occasional celebratory cigar that Tommy would produce now and then. He'd never been a cigarette smoker, cigars were more his speed.

There was a time where he spent a lot of nights drinking whiskey alone and smoking cigars out in the Shelby garden, after Finn had gone to sleep. It wasn't until Finn started complaining about the smell, and very astutely pointing out the health hazards, that John found reason to quit. Still, his nerves needed the hit, to calm him, to steady him.

He stared out into the lush back garden of the club, landscaped into perfection by a gardener Lizzie had hired. It was funny, to find this amount of quiet in London, he hadn't ever really thought that it could exist. Even at Ada's, you could hear the din of neighbors outside her garden walls.

The rest of the Shelby siblings stood behind him, watching as he leaned over the marble railing, original to the mansion, head down and just the glow of the cigar visible in his hand. He seemed to lose himself in thought, and Ada quietly directed the rest of her brothers to go back in.

Ten minutes later, Gemma walked out onto the terrace to find John slouching in a large outdoor chair, the cigar still burning between his fingers. She watched him for a minute, the way he leaned his head back while he exhaled, legs wide, arms out. Pocket watch chain glinting in the dim light. She could feel all of his emotions boiling under the surface. Dangerous. But in an alluring way.

"As much as I hate smoking, I can't deny how hot you look right now."  Gemma commented, watching how his eyes slowly took her in.

John inhaled one more time and then stubbed out the cigar into a crystal ashtray, briefly marveling at how Ada had left no design detail untouched.

"Come here to me." He replied, his voice low, the tone pulling Gemma towards him.

She walked over casually, letting him watch her, waiting until he could touch her. John reached out and pulled her onto his knee, sliding a hand up her stockinged leg. He certainly got the appeal of a dress like this.

"When do I get my present?" He murmured in her ear, kissing her cheek.

His fingers inched higher up her thigh, past where the stocking ended, hitting bare skin. Gemma's breath hitched as John looked at her directly, the liquid anger in his eyes receding slightly, turning into pure lust.

"How about we stay for another hour, you know, for appearances, and then you and I go back to the hotel. And you can have your present then, Mr. Shelby." Gemma replied, finally catching her breath.

John's hand slid down to her waist, and the other running over where her underwear met her upper thigh. He watched as she struggled to contain herself and then smirked before kissing her, quick but searing. Gemma touched his face and grinned back.

He stood up and set her on her feet, keeping his arm tightly around her as they walked back inside.

************************************************************************

John closed their hotel suite door behind him, one hand on Gemma’s back. Turning her around against the door, he removed his cap before kissing her neck. He lifted one her legs around his waist and ground against her, causing Gemma to sharply inhale as she could feel how hard he was.

“Let me make you comfortable, Mr. Shelby.” She whispered seductively in his ear, putting a hand on his arm.

John gently dropped her leg and looked down as she pushed his suit jacket off, hanging it off the powder room doorknob. She slowly pushed him back until they were in the lounge, removing his waistcoat, careful not to drop the pocket watch.

Gemma motioned him towards the sofa, where John sat back and watched her pour a large glass of whiskey from the bar. She took a long sip and then passed it to him.

“Who do you belong to?” She asked, her voice light but deadly serious.

“You.” John replied, shooting back the whiskey and placing the glass on a side table.

Gemma unhooked the side of her dress, letting it fall until she could step out of it. She draped it over a side chair, removed her shoes, and then walked to John, only stopping when she was between his legs. She had on a champagne colored slip, lace edged, and John slid his hands slowly up her calves and then under the slip, stopping at her lower thighs.

“Who do you want, John?” Gemma asked in the same tone, reaching back to unpin her hair.

“I only want you.” John replied, voice rough with desire.

Gemma looked down at him, resting her hands on either side of his face. Beneath her understanding was a flicker of uncertainty, and he wasn’t surprised. Someone’s plan had been to sabotage their relationship, and he wasn’t having it.

“Prove it.” She whispered.

John removed his hands and let them glide up the silk slip, pulling down the straps until the slip pooled at Gemma’s feet. He blinked a few times in slight shock at the sight before him.

Gemma stood in a sage green lace lingerie set, that was intricately made and also left little to the imagination. The bra top cut low and he could see her skin through the thin lace, her breasts rising and falling with each breath.

He rolled down a stocking, kissing down her leg as bare skin was revealed. Gemma leaned forward, steadying herself on John's shoulders, already shaky. John repeated the same with the other stocking, languidly, looking up to see Gemma looking down at him, hair falling forward.

She reached out to unbutton his shirt, pulling it down his arms, and then removing his undershirt, both of which she flung to the side, making John grin. He slowly pulled down her underwear, winking at her as they dropped to the floor. Gemma felt like she couldn't breathe as he stared up at her, hands sliding up to the back of her thighs as he pulled her onto him.

Fucking hell.

John kissed her with an intensity she hadn't felt before. Certainly some of it was pent up emotion and anger, but it seemed as if she'd tapped into the deepest part of him. The part that could be dangerous and unstable. The part that desired vengeance. She could sense his desire to protect her, to seek out who had sent the invite, and to make them pay. To be perfectly honest, she didn't hate it. In fact, she found it incredibly attractive.

John lifted her up onto her knees, sliding himself down between her legs. Before she even realized what was happening, he pulled her down into him again, his mouth against her center, hands gripping her thighs.

"J ..." Gemma sighed, wrapping her hands around his forearms.

The sound of her saying his nickname went through him like lightning. Every part of him wanted to prove to her that she really was the only one, that he really did belong to her. Because from the second she walked into his life, she was the only girl he'd thought about, had dreamed about, had fantasized about. Every time he was inside of her, he knew it was the most right thing he'd ever do.

John continued for a few minutes, focusing on her back arching, her hands gripping his arms, her body moving against his face. This was just the beginning of him proving himself, and he meant to go all out.

Gemma had just started to get more comfortable with the position he had her in, when John pushed himself back up. He quickly undid his suit pants before standing and carrying her to the bedroom, stepping out of the pants as he went. There was a dim light coming into the room through the sheer curtains, and it lit the side of her face, then the chain around her neck, as he trailed his fingers up her arm.

He pulled down one bra strap and then the other, kissing her neck as he reached around with one hand to unhook her bra. Gemma had totally given herself over to him, and he could feel it in the way she melted against him, bare skin to bare skin, her bra tossed gently on the bed.

"You're the only one for me, love. I swear to you." John whispered as he held her face, eye to eye.

Gemma watched him for a moment, searching his eyes for the truth, and knowing it was what he said. She nodded and he sat back on the edge of the bed, still holding her around him. John entered her as slowly as he could, wanting to feel every part of her for as long as he could.

He lost track of time as his body took over. The sound of Gemma sighing his name repeatedly, the feel of her hand the back of his neck as he bent his head to her chest, his lips around her nipple, palming her other breast. He held her tightly against him, remaining in control, feeling like he was going to explode any moment from every single nerve in his body burning with need.

Something in him was breaking apart, the final place in his heart where all the pain related to Martha lay, dusty and waiting for him to acknowledge every part of it. To let it go. Tempering the anger running through him was the unending love he felt for the girl in his arms, the one who understood him without a word. The one he would now spend forever with, if she let him.

************************************************************************

Gemma woke the next morning to find herself solidly tucked into John's side, head on his shoulder, his arm holding her to him. For once she had woken up before he did, and she looked up to find his face peaceful in his sleep. She ran her fingers lightly over his cheekbone, waiting for his eyes to open to the blue that had become her favorite blue.

“Hi.” John said, his voice rough.

“Hi.” 

John took a minute to wake up, wrapping his other arm around Gemma as he shifted to be even closer to her. They had stayed up late, lying in bed in the dark, talking about what Martha had said and how it made John feel. Gemma eventually fell asleep, in the way he found adorable, her leg slung over his waist, curled into him, her arm around his middle. He’d spent another hour wide awake, listening to her breathe, hand on her warm thigh. Running through all the possibilities of who had sent the invite to Martha.

“We’re good about last night, yeah?” John asked, putting a hand on the side of Gemma’s face.

“We’re good. Let’s spend today alone, like we planned. Tomorrow, revenge begins.” Gemma replied in a joking tone that John knew was also serious.

“How about I take you for lunch, an afternoon out in London, and then whatever else you want to do.”

“That sounds perfect. I vote for an hour in that bathtub after, and then spendy as fuck room service while in pajamas. Maybe a movie.”

“Alright, then, it’s a plan. I just need to call Finn before we head out, check on him.” John replied, laughing in agreement.

Gemma sat up and looked down at John, his hand resting on her waist. It was surprising that neither of them were hungover. She knew she was lucky to see him like this, vulnerable and without his usual perfected hairstyle and clothes that were like a suit of armor. 

“I love you how you take care of people. It’s one of my favorite things about you.” Gemma said with a smile, touching his face.

John smiled back and then rolled closer, putting his head in her lap. Going to the bathroom could be put off for a few more minutes, to have the chance to sit together in peace, Gemma running her hand through his hair.

************************************************************************

John stood to the side of the tub, removing the last of the clothes Gemma had been wearing for their afternoon out. Gemma had always found this kind of thing absolutely far too cheesy for her.

But with John standing in just his boxers, holding out his hand to her, it was different. Far less cheesy, and far more intimate.

“My lady.” John joked as he held Gemma’s hand so she could step carefully into the tub.

Gemma leaned back against the side, her hair pinned up, and made zero excuses for blatantly watching John as he pulled down his boxers and stepped in himself, winking at her. He leaned back on the other side and pulled her towards him.

“This tub is fucking huge. You could nearly do laps in here.” He commented as Gemma laughed.

“You could easily fit six people.” She replied.

“Are you making a naughty suggestion, darlin’?” John said, smirking as her face turned red.

“No!” Gemma replied, smacking him lightly, “I only want to be in here with one person, babes. You.”

John chuckled as she leaned over to take a sip from her glass. Coke, as they’d decided to go all out on champagne later. There was something about watching her do the mundane that made his heart constrict.

Gemma maneuvered her legs around his waist and then sat comfortably between his legs, arms around his shoulders. They chatted about a dog they’d seen earlier, who’s owner had given it a terrible haircut. She loved watching John laugh, how when he thought something was truly funny his entire body gave in to it. She ran a finger across his lips as he smiled, and the electricity between them sparked high.

John was mesmerized by how Gemma bit her lip, trying to keep in thoughts that he could read so easily, it was like they were his own. He leaned forward and kissed her lips softly before deepening the kiss and pull her in as closely as possible. All Gemma could think about was his large hand caressing her back, so gentle compared to the night before. 

He dropped his head into her neck and put his lips to her skin, listening for her breathing to change. It was his favorite part, knowing exactly where to kiss her, and what it did.  

“Tell me, love, have you ever had sex in a bathtub?” John whispered in Gemma’s ear, cradling her head to the side. 

“No.” She replied, gripping the back of his head.

John could tell she was already lost in a daze, and switched to the other side of her neck, biting down gently. Her breath hitched and then suddenly she pulled her head up.

“Wait a minute, have you?” She asked, fully realizing what he had asked.

John laughed at the look on her face, curious and jealous all at once.

“Surprisingly, no. Not in a tub anyway. Water, yeah.” He replied, watching her expression change.

The way John was touching her was so different to the night before, in nearly the same position, she almost felt like crying. Not that the previous evening had been bad, it had been top marks, but she knew this was a part of John that very few women had ever seen. Maybe just one other one. And it meant something.

“I love this part of you, J, how you are right now. Don’t get me wrong, last night was hot as hell, but this part. I know only I get to see it.” She said quietly with a shy smile. 

“I want everything with you, Gem. Every moment, every second.” John replied, his voice low with emotion.

Gemma nodded in response, and he kissed her, in such a cheesy romantic novel way that with anyone else she would’ve laughed. But this was John, and every single part of her wanted him to touch her, to burn her skin with his, to be inside her. She reached down into the water, not surprised to find him hard already, and he lifted her up and onto him. The feeling of him entering her, stretching around him, was the most intense feeling she’d ever had. And it happened like that every time.

John could barely think, the way she felt against him, skin wet, and the way she felt underneath the water, her legs locked around him. He kissed across her collarbone, lifting her up a bit more so that he could trail down to her breasts. Gemma moaned quietly as he sucked hard, swirling his tongue around her nipple, gripping her hip as he thrust up in small motions again and again.

He groaned and leaned back as Gemma came around him suddenly, biting into his shoulder. He felt himself tighten and then release into her as she contracted again, pulling him in as he came, and he moaned her name loudly. It took him a few minutes to come back down, and he found Gemma watching him with a little grin.

“First time for everything, right?” She said with a low laugh.

“Imagine what it would’ve been like with other people in here. Completely inappropriate idea, Gemma.” John replied, before grinning back.

************************************************************************

Per Gemma’s request, John had gone all out on the room service. Champagne, caviar, oysters, some kind of lobster pasta that Gemma had raved about and gave John exactly one bite of. Clearly he’d have to order two next time. He loved watching her absolute joy over how dry the champagne was, the coupe glass it was served in, how the oysters had the right “salinity”.  He thought of all the places he wanted to take her, to explore together, and how she made every experience new and fun.

Now, she was passed out on top of him, just in one of his hoodies and underwear, while the movie credits played. He didn't want to move but knew she’d be mad if he spent the whole night sleeping on the sofa, her on top of him, and would worry about his back hurting the next day. Not that she was wrong, but having her like this, in this moment, was also a place he could stay forever.

He waited until the screen went black and then reached for the remote to shut off the TV. Somehow he managed to sit up, with Gemma cradled in his lap, her eyes opening briefly.

“Time for bed, love. I’ve got you.” John whispered into her hair and kissed her cheek.

She nodded and he carried her to the bedroom, pulling down the sheets before placing her gently in the middle. He’d learned this the first night she’d fallen asleep at his house, she didn’t want to be too far to one side. He’d come back in from the bathroom to find her curled up in the middle of the mattress, facing his side of the bed, and he’d slid in next to her, wrapping her into him. They’d slept like that nearly every night since.

He placed a glass of water on her nightstand, along with her glasses, and plugged in her phone. He hadn’t noticed that Gemma was now watching him, a sleepy smile on her face. She closed her eyes again and didn’t move until she felt the bed dip slightly next to her, and John carefully pulled the hoodie up over her head. That was another thing he learned early on, she didn’t like to sleep with much on.

“Love you.” Gemma mumbled as John pulled her into his side.

“Sleep well, my love. I’ll be here.” John whispered back.

He felt her settle in against him and kissed the top of her head. While she fell into a deep sleep, John’s mind walked through the details once again. Whoever had tried to get between him and Gemma knew that they were deeply connected. But they had banked on Martha’s return casting enough doubt in John’s mind that he would end his relationship with Gemma.  

The question is: Why? Was it the business? His family? Gemma’s job? Or even something as simple as jealousy?

***********************************************************************

Tommy sat in the darkness of his bedroom, staring out the floor to ceiling windows into the London night. In the distance he could picture The Gibson Hotel, John and Gemma taking the day to themselves. He could picture Ada’s house in Kensington, filled with family, his brothers always choosing to stay there. He pictured Charlie down the hall, soundly asleep in his room, safe in this fortress in the skyline. The very opposite of Watery Lane, of Small Heath, of Birmingham. But not better, really.

A reflection of the bedroom door opening illuminated against the window, the hall light casting shadows. He turned on the small lamp next to his chair. 

“Tommy, you startled me, I thought you were in your office. What are you doing?” Grace asked, walking into the room, turning on the lamp on her nightstand.

“Sometimes I like to look out at this city, wonder what all these people really see in it. If they were honest with themselves, most of them would probably admit to hating it, even just a bit.” Tommy mused, taking a sip of whiskey.

“It’s late, come to bed.” Grace replied, fear rising at the tone of his voice.

Tommy stood up and turned around, downing the rest of his drink before carefully setting the glass down. It was from an antique set, gift from Polly, and he would hate to break one of the crystal tumblers. Grace watched as Tommy slowly raised his other hand, a small piece of paper in it. 

“What have you done, Grace? What the fuck have you done?” 

#john shelby fanfic #john shelby #modern john shelby #joe cole #john shelby imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #john shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby #modern peaky blinders #electric

[collidingxworlds]

Plotted starter for @governmentofficial - Abigail Hobbs & Mycroft Holmes

There are events that turn your life upside down in the matter of seconds. Everything you had thought, believed in, knows till that very moment crumbles into ashes before your eyes. The solid ground you’ve always had under your feet suddenly vanishes, leaving you plunged into a free fall. Your whole world collapses on itself in front of you and there’s nothing you can do about it.

That was exactly what Abigail Hobbs had experienced less than a month before, when the FBI had barged into her house, but not before her father had managed to put his hunting knife against her mother’s throat and slit it open. The same knife that had pressed in the skin of the girl’s own neck, as she was used as a human shield, one that should have lasted long enough for her to share Louise Hobbs’s fate.

She didn’t remember much after that. The feeling of the blade cutting through her flesh, the warmth of the blood wetting her rapidly cooling skin. The deafening sounds of gunshots and then a strong, steady pressure around her neck, keeping it from bleeding it as copiously as it had been.

Then just blackness.

She had woken up days later in the ICU of Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore, with a tube shove down her throat and machines beeping madly all around her. On the side of her neck, under a heavy bandage, a wound that would have scarred and marked her for the rest of her life.

The next week had been a blur too. She had learnt that both her parents were dead, that her father was a serial killer and that all the money and the properties of her family had been confiscated to pay the victims’ family. She had found herself at 13 years old, orphaned and penniless, with more debts to be settled. The world she had spent her childhood in was gone, just like that, and her future had looked like a dark, bottomless void.

At least until social services had tracked down some distant relatives on her mother’s side, who had accepted not just to pay for her medical expenses, but also to take her in.

A couple of days she had been put on a plane and shipped to England, with nothing but the slightly oversized, old clothes one of the nurses had generously provided her with and a passport.

And that was how Abigail had found herself standing in the hall of a mansion of the size of a small castle, surrounded by paintings that had to cost more than her old family house had. It made her feel intimidate and completely out of place, like a cheap trinket that had ended up in a refine jewelry shop by mistake.

That place was nothing like the home she had grown up in. Her house had used to be simple, decorated with the rugs and deer mounts her father had made out of the animals he hunted. The smooth wood surfaces, the many handmade pillows and pelts had always made it feel warm and welcoming, even despite the dark, disquieting shadows had been cast all over it when, several months before, she had discovered what sort of monster her father was and what other, less conventional materials were used to decorate the building and fill their plates.

The mansion was gave off a completely different vibe. It felt cold and distant with its high, finely chiselled ceilings, its large windows and pieces of furniture that looked like the belonged into a museum. The only bright side was that it was surrounded by a large garden. The thought of being able to immerse in nature even there brought her some comfort.

Blue eyes touched one of the armours before moving on the man who had come to greet her at the door after a limousine had picked her up at the airport. Mycroft Holmes. Her new adoptive father, even if, looking at him, Abigail wondered if he could have truly become a parental figure.

He too, like the mansion, was nothing like what she had known till now. However, in this sense, it was perhaps for the best.

“Do you really live here all by yourself?” She found herself asking, the hint of a frown on her face. “What do you...do with all this space?”

It made her wonder what her new room would have looked like.

“And...what should I call you?” She couldn’t see herself calling him ‘Dad’ nor using his first name. Perhaps ‘father’? Or maybe... “Mister Holmes?”

#* Let's tell my story * ::ic ; Abigail:: #&& Mycroft Holmes #* Imagination. The final frontier. These are the voyages... * ::threads:: #governmentofficial #violence tw #murder tw #blood tw #(( I hope this works! )) #(( lmk if you want me to change something! )) #(( it's mostly a sum up of how Abigail ended up at Mycroft's )) #(( so if I need to add something more for you to interact with )) #(( just say the word! )) #v. What will grow from this blood soaked soil? ::teenager AU ; Abigail::

[bestworstcase]

I read your post on IQ Weiss’ behavior and THANK YOU

because fucking hell people did not understand Negative Weiss was still Weiss but her insecurities like bumped to 1000. It’s very clear Weiss was still there, it’s Weiss, her core traits are still in her mind and heart it’s just that her cognition was distorted because of the nightmare grimm’s influence. Like that thing wanted her to think she was doing the right thing but Weiss was ALWAYS aware that it still wasn’t right. But negative Weiss also represents how Weiss feels like she HAD to be this way which is why she stubbornly sticks to it until she needs to be knocked down by negative Blake. (Who was absolutely terrifying and I loved her for it). That wakes up weiss’ I guess you can say more dormant or better views that were starting to grow (like her saying she doesn’t actually hate the Faunus ) like seriously why else would she mention that Blake’s dream character would always turn up eventually. Clearly blake was in her thoughts bc of their confrontation and Weiss’ self reflection after v1. And she’s still thinking about how to be better bc as you said being bigoted doesn’t just stop over night. Weiss had taken that initiative early on but negative Weiss needs to counter in some way.

The the grim takes these shaky feelings and adds her abusive home environment and creates something ideal for those (people, things) she thinks matter (like her dad and all of Atlas) but even Negative weiss knew some things weren’t right. That’s why weiss protects herself in different ways. Like all of the door having a different klein, the sillies, the bunk beds, and of course her exiled mansion full of Faunus and Blake’s things. The things she ashamed of being wrong about! And how this was apart of her that’s changed which as you said may be why the nightmare couldn’t get rid of it bc Weiss was already on a better path by then so it needed to like squash that hope. ITS JUST they tell you straight up what’s happening for the most part. The rest is mostly shown.

Anyways I HOPE I MADE SENSE. YOU EXPLAINED IT BETTER THAN I EVER COULD

the core difference between awake weiss and dream weiss imo was that in the nightmare weiss had no support network, just constant surveillance by her brother and jacques’ face plastered all over every surface hgbfkd like. it’s a dreamlike exaggeration of whitley and jacques judgmentally (in her pov, since she missed that whitley was legitimately concerned for her) looking on while weiss fights the arma gigas at the beginning… dream weiss is who weiss becomes when she has her father breathing down her neck and no role models or friends or escape to another continent to make rebellion possible; it is, in a way, directly analogous to blake’s nightmare turning her into adam, in that weiss becomes what jacques might have been if he had weiss’s iron determination and zero of her morals or compassion. or the weiss she might have been had she followed winter to atlas academy and married her desire to reform the SDC to fascist military conditioning instead of friends who cared and pushed her to grow into her best self.

( there’s also something too in how like. the nightmare empire is an exaggerated SDC twisted into an authoritarian state and the drumbeat from dream weiss of there being no place for faunus in the empire has this duality of both bigotry and weiss having to grapple emotionally with the reality that her family’s legacy includes horrific exploitation of and hostility towards the faunus; it’s simultaneously an expression of the bigotry her upbringing inculcated in her and an indictment of herself and her family name. like there’s a reason weiss made bashful klein the guardian of her own unwanted bigotry; she’s ashamed of feeling this way. )

what i thought was rly neat about how all this was handled is that blake… gets it. she’s hurt and confused at first bc it feels like dream weiss is showing weiss’s true nature, exposing the acceptance and apology from the real world as a lie, but then as soon as she sees what’s in the house it clicks and she gets it—and she offers yang this excellent, insightful analysis of what’s going on, emotionally, with weiss’s perception of herself and the white fang, bc she sees her own fears and hatred of humans reflected in weiss’s struggle—BUT! when the nightmare takes hold, none of that insight matters because having been victimized by the SDC and the bigotry it upholds doesn’t go away just because she can empathize with weiss’s struggle to unlearn it. and while the nightmare gives her the trappings of adam—his aesthetic, his grimm mask, his embrace of violence—it doesn’t and can’t give her his attitude; even the very worst version of blake is… basically sienna khan, actually: a genuine activist fighting to address systemic injustices. the nightmare twists her so she can’t see or accept or understand weiss’s effort to change while under its influence, but everything else she says during their duel is dead accurate and weiss validates its accuracy in her responses by arguing with her not on the facts but on her own intentions: yes, the schnees are guilty of these accusations you’ve laid out, and that’s why i want to fix it.

like. man. ngl the scene where blake identified her own fear of humans with weiss’s bigotry made me kinda wince initially bc really? they’re going to do the both sides uwu thing at the eleventh hour? but then i was really pleasantly surprised by how it ultimately played out bc. blake could see the similarities in her own escape from adam in weiss’s struggle, and that’s what inspired her to take this risk, but the thing that actually BREAKS THE NIGHTMARE’S HOLD ON WEISS is an angry, traumatized blake screaming in her face that the SDC exploited and abused blake’s people and weiss screaming back that she’s right. trying to gently coax weiss into this logic of “we’re the same” wouldn’t have worked at all but getting furious and confronting her head on snapped her out of it exactly like blake predicted it would. and i think it’s really fucking cool that THAT is where blake’s empathy led her. “i understand what she’s struggling with and to help her i’m going to draw on my own anger and fear and fight for what i believe in, because i trust her to hear me.” and it’s the right call!! it’s insanely dangerous but it works bc blake genuinely understood the situation and her judgment that what weiss needed was an honest, violent shock to her system was one hundred percent correct, and—for all that her self-doubt twisted her appearance into a facsimile of adam—her conviction that she could do this safely, that she would be able to leave the violence and anger behind once it was no longer necessary, was also completely correct. im just. really glad iq let her be absolutely right about this.

#iq spoilers

[monsterhighdiaries]

Holt’s Basic Diary - August 1st

Being the new monster in town means I've got to figure out who all the players are so I don't get off on the wrong claw with any of the locals. So I've been taking walks at night with Crossfade just to check things out. This is what I've peeped so far.

Count Dracula: This ain't no mopey "Please give me a hug 'cause I'm a vampire" crybaby. This is the original, old school, dark as midnight, bad to the fang Nosferatu. There may be monsters that have been around longer, but none of them have Count Dracula's street cred. He and his daughter live on my street in what is either a gigantic mansion or a small castle. I guess you'd have to go with the mansion, but only because there isn't a moat and a drawbridge.

The Mummy: Got to say there's just something about old-school monster royalty. They're like rockstars or something. I'm not the kind of monster that gets starstruck, but I seriously wanted to ask for his autograph. I didn't, but I thought about it. He and his princess daughter Cleo de Nile live in this palace that looks like a movie set with servants and all. I don't know Cleo, but it seems like she's wound a little tight.

The Werewolf: There's one Alpha wolf in his pack, and he is it. I heard he could have gone pro in just about any sport he wanted, but he was so much stronger and faster than the other players they said it wouldn't be fair for him to play. He's got a big family in a not so big house, and it always seems like there is some kind of drama going on over there. The way they argue, you'd think they don't like each other, but you'd be wrong. They watch out for each other, and if you fight one of them, you better be ready to take them all. Clawd is the BMOC (Big Monster on Campus), and Clawdeen is going to have songs written about her one day.

Frankenstein and his bride: Mr. Stein is pretty chill for a dude who's eight feet tall and looks like he's strong enough to tie knots in oak trees. Mrs. Stein, on the other hand...well, let's just say Mr. Stein is a lucky monster. They live in a house that looks like a cross between a Swiss chalet and a research lab. I think they've got a new baby over there, but I haven't seen her yet.

The Sea Monster: He doesn't really live on land. At least, I don't think he does. For sure, he's got a little beach house where Lagoona Blue lives. It's got a killer dock that goes out over the water. I saw Lagoona sitting out there talking to him one night. He never got out of the water, though, so I couldn't tell exactly what he looked like, but he churned serious water when he left. I think he mostly just keeps to himself and doesn't spend a lot of time with surface monsters.

Medusa: Seems like she's got her hiss together and is in total control of her emotions. Good thing, too, 'cause if she ever lost it, your career as a permanent life-size paperweight would start right away. I guess that's why she wears sunglasses outside of her house, even at night. Speaking of her house, it looks like a building from one of those pictures at a Greek restaurant. The kind with the big columns and everything. I bet the acoustics in that place are awesome. Wonder if she ever lets Deuce have parties up there?

#fromholt #holt hyde #crossfade #draculaura's dad #draculaura #cleo's dad #cleo de nile #clawdeen's dad #clawd wolf #clawdeen wolf #frankie's dad #frankie's mom #frankie stein #lagoona's dad #lagoona blue #deuce's mom #deuce gorgon #basic diaries #holtbasic #year01 #all

[evita-shelby]

Preview for ch.10 of National Anthem

Ever since he was a kid, Jack’s dreamed of owning the world.

His apartment had been good, modern and spacious and perfect for a bachelor. When his ambition decided he needed a wife to complete his success, he looked for a perfect starter house.

One that would be seen as the beginning of his rise, one that would become the steppingstone for his future.

He’d carried Eva over the threshold just as he’d done when he took her to the townhouse he shared with Carrie for Gina’s sake. He had fucked her in every surface of the house, built a marriage that would have everyone doubt this had been an arrangement made in the span of a week.

Their current home was great, perfect for a growing family with a long veranda for the children, a garage that was every middle-class car aficionado’s dream and yet it won’t be long before they leave it too.

Jack never dreams small; he hadn’t known exactly what this dream home would be until he saw Rockwood Hall.

J.D. Rockefeller had made the second largest mansion in all of America, so grand that his own descendants had to sell it after his death. So grand only the Rileys could afford it now that they gained government contracts through his connections.

“We should get one of these.” He says as he takes Rosie in his arms and the boys run off to play with the other children.

Little Jack turns back long enough to hug his mother goodbye and Little Joey is already yelling at the boys he met at the last family gathering. They gather with her family for the big holidays after that fiasco during the first thanksgiving when Eva was pregnant with the boys.

They’d spend Easter here, 4th of July at home, come here for September 16th before the boys start their first day of school –of which he’s taking the day off work because Eva said so--- and miss Florida because Eva was due in November.

Katherine Drusilla Nelson, Duchess of Devonshire and conceived in the most coveted bed in the world on Valentine’s Day. Named for his late elder sister who died of consumption along with Gina and their mother, and for Eva’s aunt, the formidable Olivia Drusilla Riley de Souza.

Livia doesn’t like him, told him to his face and repeated it that Thanksgiving. Thought he was beneath them and unworthy of her favorite niece. But she practically raised Eva because her mother got the baby blues and so he put up with her…enough to have her share his daughter’s name.

“I like the one we rented in Hyannis Port for July 4th, Malcom Cottage. Although I am partial to the one in Florida.” Eva mentions acting as if they had to choose between one. She grew up in several houses, always moving about with the parents or relative caring for her when she wasn’t in school.

“Why settle for one, when we can have it all? “Its like when she asked if they could keep the tradition of middle names for their children because the two them also had middle names, she didn’t even need to ask to known the answer is always yes.

Besides his witch of a wife has never been wrong before, never will be if you ask him.

#eva smith shelby #eva nelson #evacore #jack nelson x oc #national anthem fic

[onbearfeet]

So today I committed a random act of Christmas.

Full disclosure: I do not like Christmas very much. I like some of the food and the fact that I (sometimes) get time off. Everything else, no. I actually am Christian, but I hate the fact that a major Christian holiday makes everyone so miserable. Plus my family is a trashfire, so bad memories. I'd rather just have Yule. Anyway.

My best friend's mom, when I came out as acespec, declared that if my parents wouldn't accept my queerness, she would, and I was more or less adopted on the spot. She's EXTREMELY conservative and now has MAGA brainworms, but her feelings about loving your kids no matter what take precedence, apparently. I'll call her Lottie.

Now, Lottie LOVES Christmas, in the most stereotypically American way, like Fox News and Hallmark thrown into a blender full of tinsel. I have seen professionally decorated mansions with less elaborate Christmas displays than Lottie's living room. Giant tree, impeccably trimmed, Santas and nativities on every horizontal surface. And it just HAPPENS, all of a sudden. It's like spontaneous combustion, only with more glitter.

But Lottie is getting on in years, and her knees and hips and back aren't what they used to be, and her balance never was in the first place. So while the interior of her home, as always, looks like a Hobby Lobby threw up in it, my bff told me a few days ago that Lottie had decided not to hang her usual blinding display of solar-powered outdoor LED lights in various wintry shapes.

"That sounds like she just gave up," I replied.

"Yeah," BFF agreed, "because giving up beats falling off a ladder."

We thought about this for a moment, and then I asked, "You wanna be Christmas gremlins?"

So today we went over there and pulled out all the lights, and I held the rickety ladder while BFF strung wires, and we got the whole thing set up to glow for Lottie tomorrow night after they've had a day to charge. Lottie was touched; BFF told her I'd suggested it, and as politely appreciative as I am about her decorations (what am I supposed to do, spoil her fun?), she knows I'm very much a grinch and was doing this out of love rather than anything like Christmas spirit.

Anyway. Today I was Christmasy, I didn't like it, and I went home to sew bears and listen to murder podcasts in relative peace. And tomorrow evening Lottie will be able to ship her cocoa and watch her LED snowflakes and icicles glow while Bing Crosby croons "White Christmas" for the twelve millionth time.

And to all a good night.

#christmas gremlins #random act of Christmas #bff also loves Christmas but I forgive her #she comes by it honestly #people sometimes tell me that I'm the only non-asshole Christian they know #Christians have told me that I'm the only non-asshole atheist they know #i find it very funny that both groups read me as #not one of us but still pretty okay #this is what happens when you stop explaining yourself to people

[august-reads]

*Happy face*

𝓜𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓫𝓾 𝓡𝓲𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰

Taylor Jenkins Reid.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Synopsis -_-

Four famous siblings throw an epic party to celebrate the end of the summer. But over the course of twenty-four hours, their lives will change forever.

Malibu: August, 1983. It’s the day of Nina Riva’s annual end-of-summer party, and anticipation is at a fever pitch. Everyone wants to be around the famous Rivas: Nina, the talented surfer and supermodel; brothers Jay and Hud, one a championship surfer, the other a renowned photographer; and their adored baby sister, Kit. Together, the siblings are a source of fascination in Malibu and the world over—especially as the offspring of the legendary singer, Mick Riva.

The only person not looking forward to the party of the year is Nina herself, who never wanted to be the center of attention, and who has also just been very publicly abandoned by her pro tennis player husband. Oh, and maybe Hud—because it is long past time to confess something to the brother from whom he’s been inseparable since birth.

Jay, on the other hand, is counting the minutes until nightfall, when the girl he can’t stop thinking about promised she’ll be there.

And Kit has a couple secrets of her own—including a guest she invited without consulting anyone.

By midnight the party will be completely out of control. By morning, the Riva mansion will have gone up in flames. But before that first spark in the early hours before dawn, the alcohol will flow, the music will play, and the loves and secrets that shaped this family’s generations will all come bubbling to the surface.

Malibu Rising is a story about one unforgettable night in the life of a family: the night they each have to choose what they will keep from the people who made them... and what they will leave behind.

Review ^_^

I love this book so much!

I have a lot to say, those little things are crashing inside my head, and now, let me just tell you, if you like summer, beach, surfing, heart broke, wild parties brutal inhuman acts, some actors and media personalities becoming crazy, an older sister who literallly was the main pillar of an almost broken family, best brother relationship, an asshole who can not hold his dick on his fucking pants, a family, a sweet, marvellous relationship of siblings, an asshole husband and most importantly, major plot twists, then what the hell you're doing? GO RUN AND READ THIS BOOK!!!

Taylor Jenkins Reid never disappointed me, ever! Her books.... It's a really out of the world kinda thing. She just slays on this book. Her writing is totally different and unique. She knows the assignment.

In this book, the characters say so much that it has lots to take, but ill try to make it short.

• Nina: she's the main character. And she is the best sister. However, her decision wasn't for her. Her entire life, all she did was take care of her siblings. And im so happy about what she did at last. She deserves it.

• Kit: she's badass. I like that about her. I love how she says everything that comes to her mind. She just doesn't give a fuck about what other people think about her actions. She cool.

• Hud: this man, is just awesome. Throughout the book, he just showed me, how a man can treat a woman. He's a comforting character. <33 him.

• Jay: he's good, I don't have anything specific to say about him. However, Jay and Hud's relationship was out of the world. They really meant for each other. They are like brother soulmates. ( if that even exists)

•June: this woman didn't deserve what she had her whole life. *shaking head sadly*

• Mick: you know, I don't want to talk about Mick. If he burns in hell, I don't really care much. He can go fuck himself.

Btw, other people like Carrie Soto ( I really love her boldness, can't wait to read her book) Branden ( fuck him ) Casey ( she's pretty good. I <33 ed her). Tarine ( she's a good best friend) all of them were needed in this book. They might not be into many parts, but who cares? These characters were interesting.

So, that's what I actually wanted to say about this book. I love this book so much.

#malibu rising #taylor jenkins reid #nina riva #bookstan #bookstagram #bookworld #romancebookaddict #booktok #book tumblr #book review #booklr #beach life #hollywood #kit riva #hud riva #mick riva #jay riva #june riva #august reads #summer reading

[velataluna]

𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠

“𝐸𝑥𝑐𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑚𝑒, 𝑀𝑟. 𝑉𝑒𝑟𝑔𝑖𝑙?”

The eldest scion of Sparda looked up from the row of clean plates he had just stacked neatly to heed the gentle, lilting voice that requested his attention, belonging to none other than the maiden he had come to know and acknowledge as his son's significant other.

“If it isn't troublesome, would you come with me for a moment?”

❝ 𝖭𝗈𝗍 𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗅, 𝖬𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝖪𝗒𝗋𝗂𝖾, ❞ Vergil responded with an urbane tone whilst wiping his hands dry then turned toward you. ❝ 𝖯𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗁𝖾𝖾, 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎. ❞

The girl flashed him a smile that suited her gentle, maternal demeanor, something that couldn't but remind him of his beloved mother. She led him away from the kitchen, passed the raucous liveliness in the living room as the orphaned children that Nero and Kyrie took care of were cheering over said youth and Vergil's own twin brother, arms locked in a wrestle. The latter still had the audacity to flash him a flirtatious wink despite Nero's stream of profanity against him.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘭. Vergil fought an urge to roll his eyes with the twitch of his lips served as the only acknowledgement. Not when the maiden regarded them with a bemused smile.

Nero's beloved escorted him to the second floor of the humble establishment, to a series of rooms that Vergil knew to be where the young couple resided. Thus prompted a slight arch of his snowy eyebrow.

“There is something belonging to Nero that I would like to show you,” Kyrie kindly clarified as she must have sensed Vergil's puzzlement.

The cambion tilted his head in acknowledgement, but respectfully kept himself at the doorway as Kyrie went into her bedroom and returned promptly with a box nestled in her hands. 

“There aren't too many to make an album,” the maiden trailed off, head dipped down slightly as she humbly proffered the box to him. “But I thought you might like these.”

His face remained neutral with the sole arch of his eyebrow betraying his curiosity as he accepted the box and gently opened it.

Grey-blue eyes widened inadvertently upon finding the content of the box being a series of monochrome rendering of a boy, dressed in an adolescent attire to the orphaned children currently cavorting downstairs.

𝘕𝘦𝘳𝘰… 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘥𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘵.

His being thrummed at the realization and he lifted one particular photograph to take a gander at it. Slender fingers gripped the corner of the smooth surface of the paper as he beheld, taking in the sight of his one and only son, likely no older than he was when he was still living at their former family mansion. 

Nero's monochrome and wary expression stared back at him, presumably the child either disliked or unused to having his likeness captured. It was an expression that Vergil used to sport himself, during those days their parents were knee-deep in the so-called technological advance and availed themselves inordinately to the invention of photographic devices.

His chest tightened at this immortalization of a period in his fledgling's life that he was denied of witnessing and nurturing himself due to circumstances. Emotions welled, indignation and yearning of a mater who was forced to leave the very babe he had just delivered from his own womb behind, knowing what danger and cruel fate awaits it otherwise.

“...Mr. Vergil?” Kyrie's gentle voice filtered through his trip down the woeful memory lane.

The current matriarch of the Sparda dynasty blinked, wrenching his mind away from the painful recollection that was still vivid as ever, back to the present and found the maiden's concerned countenance peering up at him.

❝ 𝖨 𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖺𝖼𝖼𝖾𝗉𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌, ❞ he declared in a tone vacillating between heavy and calm. 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘷𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘕𝘦𝘳𝘰'𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴, 𝘢 𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯.

As yearning as he was to own a part of his son's life, it is something that did not belong to him. He made a decision then, consciously and determinedly, thus living its consequence he shall, not robbing the maiden and his son off something precious and intimate that was rightfully theirs.

“You can,” Kyrie insisted, gently but firmly. "I don't mean to intrude or assume, but I feel that these pictures would be better kept by you than by us." You need them more than us, was what she implied and Vergil discerned.

“Besides,” the maiden quickly interjected as she sensed that he evidently was about to decline, “This is what Nero wants. He never said it out loud, but I know that he has been entertaining this idea ever since you gave him that book.”

Understanding dawned within Vergil. The book that the maiden referred to was none other than the Blake Anthology, the poetry book that he used to consider one of the greatest treasures he ever happened upon as a mere child, and later would serve as a reminder of that time of great innocence and pure joy. A representation of everything he held precious yet had lost and thus could never regain. A part of him, the 𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔬𝔡𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱 of the human 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱 that he had cast away that fateful night the fire devastated everything that comprises who he used to be.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘴𝘵.

That his son would actually comprehend the true significance of him passing the book enough to reciprocate the gesture overflowed his chest with pride and warmth, something that he would never admit verbally yet could not suppress either due to said human heart still beating within him.

❝ 𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖨 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗁𝗈𝗇𝗈𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗐𝗂𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗌. ❞ The cambion dipped his head in respectful acknowledgement whilst holding the box closely against his heart. ❝ 𝖨 𝖺𝗆 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗉𝗂𝖼𝖺𝖼𝗂𝗍𝗒.❞

𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓴 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓝𝓮𝓻𝓸.

#my emanation far within {ficlet} #pov : vergil #the title is inspired by a certain line of Dante in DMC4