#this is another really cool auction by a cool friend! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

visionofvoid · 1 year

Text

Limelight - LS18

Summary: “you’ll get your flowers my dear.”

Warnings: some shameless flirting, a cocky oc

Pairings: lance stroll x oc

Word Count: 1311

She recalled the first time she ever encountered the Stroll family.

It was at a joint gala to raise money for children with terminal illnesses and her parents, who were incredibly notable in the car collection and curating community, wished to donate a 1969 Ford Mustang Boss 429 in a cherry red colour. It was one of the most expensive items up for grabs and had all its original interior in pristine condition. It gained quite a number of public attention, for a good reason, and all donations were given to the foundation they were sponsoring. It was that night that a young Piper Broadstone had encountered a young Lance Stroll, the boy in his late teens and too cool to speak to girls.

It wasn’t until years later that the two families attended yet another high profile event, this time with Piper placing a bet and winning a one-on-one date and drive with Lance Stroll himself. She wasn’t too sure on how she would organise this one-on-one date as she found herself drinking too much champagne and dancing with her mother and friends. She honestly could have approached Lance but instead chose to admire from a distance, sneaking a look whenever she could.

Piper had honestly forgotten about the auction until she received a message request in her private messages on her Instagram.

lance_ stroll: you know, if you really wanted to come for a cruise or a date you could have just messaged me on this

and its free too

Piper admired his cheeky flirting and it seemed that he was also somewhat eager to see what the date had to offer. Of course it was all up to Lance to provide the date and to showcase his driving skills, all Piper had to do was dress the part and just show up.

itspiperbroadstone: i did it for the kids, mr stroll, don’t let it get to your head

kind of silly that you had to ask for an auction to get me to go on a date with you. you could have messaged me on this

lance_stroll: bold of you to assume i want a date with you

itspiperbroadstone: why else would you message me at nine at night out of nowhere?

lance_stroll: touche

tomorrow at 11am, casual, braided hair may be best (car purposes only)

do you prefer lunch or dinner for the date?

itspiperbroadstone: we love a dominant king

lets do food after the drive tomorrow, you know, make sure it’s all in one day otherwise you might fall in love with me

lance_stroll: im certain you’ll be falling for me

our parents will love the combined fortune

itspiperbroadstone: old money nepo babies

pick me up in the vantage xoxo

i want flowers too

i paid 50k i should at least get some flowers

lance_stroll: you’ll get your flowers my dear

Casual to someone like Piper was a lot different to someone that didn’t live in an expensive penthouse in Canada. Of course Piper understood that casual was just a term to dress a lot more relaxed but she still needed to dress to impress. She followed the latest trends and embarrassingly fed into fast fashion so she was dressed all in just a pair of jeans with a baggy graphic shirt to pair. It was a nice sunny day so she neglected to bring a jacket as she walked out of her apartment complex, bidding her doorman a farewell and towards the Aston Martin Vantage she could only guess was Lance’s.

He was leaning against his car, also in a rather casual outfit in a pair of jeans, brown boots and an all grey shirt. In his hands he held a bouquet of flowers, a mix of daisies, babies breath, camellias and a few other variations. He wore a large smile on his face as Piper approached, embracing the girl in a quick and gentle hug, a kiss to the cheek and then pulled away gracefully.

“I wasn’t too sure what flowers you liked so I got a bit of everything.” Lance confessed, though he had secretly looked through all of her social media to find some sort of hint. It was in her highlights.

“Thank you, Lance. They’re beautiful.” Piper hated to admit that she was blushing and instead hid her face in the flowers, disguising the action by sniffing the flowers. They smelled incredibly fresh. There was nothing like the smell of fresh flowers. “So, what have you got planned for us today?” Lance opened her door like a gentleman and held her flowers as she strapped herself in before closing the door when she was settled. He ran to the other side, climbing into the passenger seat and started his car, one of his prized possessions.

“Well, I have a couple of cars for me to drive you around in at the track and then I’ll see how you go-”

“Driving one? You're letting me drive a Formula One car?” Lance chuckled in response, pulling into the lane and heading towards the Montreal track.

“No, you can’t operate one of those. I’ve got a couple of other cars, much safer cars to take you in and for you to drive.” Lance’s eyes remained on the road for the most part as they drove through town. His car was enough to get some stairs and rightfully so; it was a beautiful car, anyone could appreciate that, and it was the biggest flex of all. Not many people owned a car such as the vantage, not even Piper of her family, though they did own a few Aston Martins. She looked out at the window, admiring the city she was born and raised in. The two settled into a peaceful silence as they continued to the track. It was not awkward, at least from Piper’s perspective.

The 'Date’ was great PR for not only Piper and Lance but for their families, for the charity in which the money from the bid was going to and for Formula One itself. There were film crews at the ready, organised photographers to capture the two in and out of the cars, cameras and microphones set up inside the cars to capture the reactions of the two.

Piper was genuinely enjoying herself, even though her braided hair was becoming a mess and she laughed rather obnoxiously in front of Lance.

Lance was also having a great time. He never really got to show off his skills in older modelled cars let alone with a pretty girl beside him. He liked to glance over as he drifted around a corner, watching her absolutely lose herself into the atmosphere. It was something he found himself wanting to see more, yearning to see more. So, he hated it when their drive had ended and it was Piper’s turn to drive.

She got into the first car, the pair strapping themselves in. She quickly posed for a camera pointing towards them and then turned on the ignition.

“You can drive stick?” Lance questioned, Piper only nodding in response before taking off. She had devised a plan, starting off slow to get Lance to think she was nervous. She took it easy around the corners before she found herself approaching the hairpin after turn nine. She started accelerating, going faster and faster by the second before drifting the car almost expertly around the hairpin and turn ten. She couldn’t wait to see the footage once it was released of Lance's reaction. She finished the circuit, stopping at the pit in front of the cameras and getting out, throwing her hands in the air almost as if she was a racer herself.

“Where did you learn to drive like that?” Lance questioned once the two of them were finally helmet free.

“My parents are car collectors and curators, you learn a thing or two.”

#f1 x oc #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 smut #f1 #lance stroll x reader #lance stroll #lance stroll imagine #lance stroll x oc #formula one smut #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfic #formula one #formula 1

271 notes · View notes

pub-lius · 13 days

Note

Hey there, it's the anon who asked about Maria Reynolds! I realized in hindsight (read: two seconds after I sent the ask lmao) that I got her mixed up with Maria Cosway, and then I realized that I don't know crap about her either. Reading past posts you seem to mostly cover stuff about Hamilton and the people surrounding him, and also Maria Cosway isn't American lol, but I hope you don't mind me at least asking anyway? Sorry for rambling it's cool if you don't answer

hey welcome back! don't worry, you're not the first nor the last person to do that lol. and don't worry! europeans are welcome here, so maria cosway is fair game for asking about. however, apologies for asking questions aren't so i hate you (jk ily <3) now i won't be able to go into as much detail because im not drawing from much of my own personal knowledge, but my internet sources will be linked!

Source: The Judgment of Korah, Dathan and Abriam by Maria Louisa Catherine Cecilia Hadfield Cosway

Maria Louisa Catherine Cecilia Hadfield Cosway was the first child of two hotel owners in Florence, Italy. As a young girl in a convent, she showed proficient artistic talent in both drawing and music. She was educated by Johann Zoffany and introduced her to other European artists.

She began painting by copying other works when she began to get recognition, allowing her to travel Italy. After her father's passing, she moved to London in 1779 and became well connected. One such connection was with Angelica Kauffman Church (not the same as Angelica Schuyler Church, though she was friends with her two) who was also a female painter.

Maria was introduced to Richard Cosway in London, and they were married in January 1781 for primarily financial reasons. The couple were within the most fashionable circles of the time. In 1786, the Cosways went to Paris where they met Thomas Jefferson. Maria and Jefferson became friends who flirted an excessive amount, and I found a really interesting article on that here.

Unfortunately, her husband was a grade-A asshole who wouldn't sell her works and stunted her artistic growth. I'm an artist, and I can tell you, a few months off can really do a lot of damage to your muscle memory and suddenly everything you put on paper looks like absolute shit, so I feel for her.

Maria had her only daughter, Louisa Paolina Angelica, in May 1790 but her health suffered afterwards. She went to Italy to recoup and returned to London in 1794. In 1796, her daughter tragically died.

Maria coped by turning to religion, Catholicism to be specifically (been there too, she just like me fr). However, on the plus side, she got her prints published by Rudolph Ackermann and made etchings of paintings at the Louvre which had been stolen during the Napoleonic Wars. She actually knew the Bonapartes personally and their patronage allowed her to open a girls' school at Lyons in 1803, which is so badass. She would later open another school for girls in Lodi in 1812.

Her husband died in 1821, and she sold his work at auction. She used some of the profit from these sales to fund her school in Lodi which is so fucking metal. She was actually made a baroness by the Austrian Emperor and Empress after they visited her school. That's also fucking metal.

She lived the rest of her life in Lodi where she died in 1838 near her school. In conclusion, Maria Cosway was more badass than I realized, and I think she's absolutely lovely. RAHHH WOMEN!!!

I hope this has helped. Again, sorry I haven't been able to go as in-depth, but I don't know Maria like that. I'm gonna give you extra sources just because I love you so much. I hope you can find a jumping off point!! European painters are always interesting, especially if they're badass, metal women who kick names and take ass, so I encourage you to do more research!!!

Sources: Maria Cosway- Royal Academy of Arts

Royal Collection Trust- Maria Cosway Collection (this has her art!!)

American Heritage- Thomas Jefferson and Maria Cosway (this was quoted in the post!)

Yale Center for British Art- Maria Cosway Was a Part of England's First Celebrity Art Couple

#history #maria cosway #maria hadfield cosway #european history #italian history #art history #women's history #18th century #1700s #1800s #19th century #thomas jefferson #angelica schuyler #angelica schuyler church #asks

15 notes · View notes

datamodel-of-disaster · 20 days

Note

Here's a bit of an odd (but hopefully not unwelcome) question: you've mentioned a couple of times your interest in interior decorating, but how do you *find* items for your house to fit a specific aesthetic? Where do you even look/how do you search for stuff? Or do you just look through shops and flea markets and hope to get lucky?

Ok, I love this question. (You may regret asking if you see the length of this reply 😅)

SO.

The simple answer is, I thrift a lot (on- and offline), I buy at estate sales and auctions, I rarely pass an interior design store without taking a look inside (even stores that are decidedly not my style at first sight), I read industry magazines, I save up for pieces by indie creators, and in some cases I make my own stuff (I can weld and upholster). So yeah, to an extent it's "luck".

The complicated answer is that it's about understanding my own aesthetic and optimising my search experience.

I know a lot of people who sort of know what they like, but also don't really know what they like. They'll be able to look at pictures of interiors and say "I like that" and "I hate that" but not really know how to articulate why. They might even have a label for the aesthetic they prefer, like "minimalist" or "clean and modern" or "cozy Scandinavian" or something like that, but still not really be able to articulate what that materially entails. (Yes, I know, I'm singling out a certain type of people here -I'll stop eyeing them once they stop doing this shit.)

Why is one room "good" to you and another not, even if they're both technically the same style? What makes a space work? What is the "invisible background" in the spaces you love -tall ceilings, exposed beams, greenery outside, natural light, latticed windows, crown moulding? A lot of times people think they like the interior but they really just like the house it's in, much like how you might think an outfit is stylish only because the person wearing it is hot.

Similarly… do you actually love the look of an interior or do you just love the lifestyle implied in it? Do you actually like empty surfaces or are you just tired of cleaning up your housemates' clutter? Do you love big open kitchen/dining room combos or do you just wish you had a social circle that did dinner parties? Do you really want a giant white couch or do you just dream of living in California? Similarly to ads that may be advertising a car but are selling you on the dream of freedom to travel, interiors are tied up with non-material desires and aspirations. And while that's not *bad* per se, it's very difficult to actively work towards an aesthetic if you can't tell apart that aesthetic from the underlying desires. After all, you want an interior that works for the space you actually have and the life you actually live.

The reason this is important is because the moment you understand what you are really after, you are no longer bound by names of designers, shops and styles. It stops mattering. You can find things you enjoy anywhere, from thrift shops to IKEA to antiques auctions to specialty warehouses to Etsy, without it needing to be tagged with the label of an aesthetic you're trying to fit in. A lot of the "but how will I even find anything"/"everything I love is too expensive" stress disappears like this.

Understanding how your preferred style and aesthetic actually works under the hood also gives you insight into what sort of things you *need* to make it work, what stuff adds depth and volume but can't carry the theme by itself, and what sort of things are "false friends" -stuff that seems like it "should" fit your aesthetic but actually hampers it in the space you're in. (As in: a big white sectional is not gonna give you California Cool in a cramped terrace house in Birmingham, rather the opposite.)

The second-best advice in interior designing is "buy what you love" -the genuinely best advice is "understand what you love". Because once you do, you'll find things you like everywhere.

There's also optimizing your search. This is one of the few things where website algorithms are actually your biggest friend. One of my favourite things is the "more like this" function on a lot of platforms. If you tidily keep and organize favourites on Etsy, the algorithm will typically present you with stuff that's genuinely similar to items you already like. Just using Instagram to follow artists and creators you like will curate your feed and expose you to other stuff that fits the look. Pinterest allows you to both passively and actively find similar looking items, which can expose you to items and designers you never knew existed.

Favouriting items on my most-used second hand platform (2dehands, a local Belgian thrifting platform) will actively put items that visually resemble those favourites on my front page. It's awesome, and you can "weaponize" it in your search.

For example, earlier this year I really wanted an Asian style lacquer cupboard. They can be quite expensive, and usually get picked up fast second hand. So for a week or two, I actively searched for and favourited *every* lacquer cupboard I found on 2dehands, including ones I didn't like, that had the wrong dimensions, or that were far too expensive for me. Fairly quickly, my front page was essentially all lacquer cupboards, including ones that weren't even advertised as such and that I would never have found through the textual search function. And lo and behold, I found the perfect one, and it was an absolute steal too.

Another way to optimise your search is to cast a wide net. I never pass a home décor store or antiques warehouse without taking a peak. I have bought items when I was on work trips, when I was visiting family, when I was on holiday. "Thrift stores near me" is my favourite search on google maps. And yes, sometimes that meant carrying a mahogany prayer chair on my back while walking 30 minutes to the train station in high heels and office clothes xD

A final tip is to sometimes just trust your gut and go for it. A couple of my favourite buys are ridiculous shit, like a chair shaped like high heel and a bronze statue of a robot giving cunnilingus to a woman. And the biggest interior design regrets I have are all items I didn't buy. (to this day I regularly think about the giant 5-panel hand-painted Chinese screen doors I passed up on and the Lucite dining chairs I couldn’t arrange transport for.) There is such a thing as "too cohesive" in interiors. Your home is not a catalog photo; sometimes, particularly if the item is unusual or unique, you gotta trust your affection for it without necessarily knowing how it fits in the picture. (In a way, your brain is also an algorithm subject to customisation through exposure. Learn to trust it! ^^)

It's important to note with all of this though… this is my hobby. I love spending time on it. I imagine if you're trying to curate an interior this way when you're new to it (especially if you're trying to get to a certain look all at once without any mistakes or misbuys) it's hella overwhelming and time-consuming. It's not for everyone. But even if you have no interest in turning your home decor into a hobby, the base principles still apply. If you understand what you're really after, it's much easier to identify things that would work in your space, anywhere you go, no matter how often you actually go looking.

(My own house is very much NOT perfect -a perpetual “blessed mess and work in progress”, in all honesty. But well. I AM out here giving advice, so feel free to check out some non-staged, very much non-magazine worthy pics of my home, below the cut.)

#disaster replies #disaster house #interior design #interiors #maximalism #interior design inspiration #home decor

9 notes · View notes

adrianasunderworld · 1 year

Text

💕 Twst: The Cost of Love Fan Event 💕

With it being February, it seems like an appropriate time to have a Valentines day themed event.

My fellow co-creator on this is ever cool @marrondrawsalot ,we came up with this together, so show her some love for the credit. 💜

Every year as part of a February fundraising event, RSA hold a big Valentines school festival, where the main attraction is a student bachelor auction. The students fellow peers visiting the event can place bids on the schools eligible boys and win a picnic date with them after the auction, complete with a carriage ride. Needless to say, the event is very popular among the young people of Sages Isle. There's a reveal right before the event showing an all star cast of available dates to win, some such bachelors are none other than one Neige LeBlance and the sea prince,Rielle.

The boys over at NRC, like every year, are jealous of all the attention and buzz surrounding the RSA event. It garners so much publicity and has girls fawning over them left and right. But this year, Vil as part of the committee for the own February event, is extra motivated now that Neige in the picture, and they decide to one up RSA with their own auction and do everything even bigger and better than them. But, in order to know exactly how the event goes, they need a spy of sorts to scope it out and make notes of what they did well, what they can improve on, etc. With the school rivalry being so intense and so many students acting on sight with RSA students, Vil decides Yuu is the best candidate. They don't take the rivalry so seriously, and no one at RSA really recognizes them as an NRC student. Yuu agrees once Vil says he will give them all the funds for the event. Tagging along with them is, of course, Grim. Along with Rook, who volunteers to go with and help. (and definitely NOT to bid on Neige. Noooo.), and Azul who says he wants to scope it out as well for ideas of what to serve at Mostro Lounge when their festival rolls around.

On the day of the auction, the four of them head off to RSA and things start out pretty normal and laid back. They check out booths, take pictures of the decorations, etc. They run into Che'nya who recognizes them and strikes up a conversation, asking what brings them to his neck of the woods. Yuu simply replies they're there to enjoy the festival and check out the auction. They continue to talk, and Che'nya comments on the food of the festival, and how the picnic baskets for the bachelor dates were exceptionally good since they were catered by gourmet chefs. A fact that greatly interests Grim and makes him invested in winning a bid. Afterwards Che'nya says he has to do something and leaves and shortly afterwards they run into another RSA student. A red headed boy that seems to recognize Azul and happily greets him.

Yuu asks if it's afriend of his and Azuls only reply is that they aren't friends and simply former classmates, though it's obvious Azul is tense about something. Rook recognizes the boy from the date roster as none other than Prince Rielle. Rielle happily greets Azul like an old friend and introduces himself to the other three. Rielle right off the bat is a friendly and likeable boy, curious about the group and asking all sorts of things about them and making conversation, clearly the type of boy that makes fast friends. He offers to show them around the festival before he has to go to the stage, and despite Azuls reluctance, he agrees. Insert Twisttune of the group running around the event and having fun.

However, the fun does not last, as another boy calls out to Rielle, and the prince visibly tenses and looks displeased. The other boy, who is twisted from Sebastian, comments how he's been looking everywhere for Rielle, and he's been wanting to talk to him. Rielles cheery demeanor changes to that of irritation and coldness. He tries to leave, but the boy won't let him, begging to talk to him. This continues with Yuu trying to interrupt, Azul not saying anything, and Rook and Grim standing by watching it, commenting how diffrent Rielles mood switched. Eventually Rielle makes an excuse that he has to go and rushes off.

Sebastian: Just talk to me! Where are you going?

Rielle: Why? So you can tell my father, since you're so good at that?

With Rielle gone, Sebastian is visibly upset and Azul asks what that was about. Sebastian tells his former classmate about how he and Rielle had a falling out in middle school right before he ran off to RSA. As Sebastian wanders around the festival a bit with the group, we get tidbits of what happened. From what Yuu can gather, Sebastian did something he is truly sorry for, but Rielle has refused any communication and Sebastian decided to just go to the surface to see him and apologize. They were good friends once, and Sebastian truly misses and cares about him, and want's Rielle to know he never meant any harm. After that Sebastian takes his leave to go do something else. Azul comments that he never known Sebastian to be a good liar, so the boy is being genuine. Especially when he recounts how much he did not like the surface and insisted it was better under the sea, so Sebastian taking the plunge to come all the way out here for Rielle is a huge deal.

Afterwards Rook comments that it's almost time for the auction. The group head over and see Sebastian in the audience. They sit near him, and the auction begins. Early on Rielle takes the stage and Sebastian puts in a bid, and Rook asks why, to which Sebastian replies that if he wins the bid, Rielle will have to speak with him. But his plans are dashed when Grim decided he wanted the contents of Rielles basket at the mention of tuna and placed a bid. Betting all the money Vil gave them, they win the date with Rielle. Later on Neige is saved for last, and Rook bids, but quickly found he spent more than he expected on Neige merch from a vendor at the event and is quickly outbidded.

Afterwards, Once everyone goes to meet their dates, Rielles smile fades when he sees Sebastian standing next to Yuu. Sebastian tries once again to talk to Rielle, but the prince is not having it. He grabs Yuus hand and says it's time for their date and hurries off to where the carriages are, Grim following close behind. A row of two seater carriages decorated in flowers for each of the bachalors await and Rielle escorts Yuu and Grim to theirs. His smile has returned now that they were far from Sebastian. Yuu asks where they are going for their picnic, and Rielle replies to someplace special. Here theres a twistune of the carriage ride while we see some of the others pass by.

Rielles special place he chose for the date was a small lagoon. He had a row boat prepared and the plan was to eat on the water. They row further out in to the lagoon, and three enjoy their lunch together. Grim very pleased with himself as the choice to bid on the food. Not long after, Grim falls asleep with his full stomach, leaving Yuu and Rielle to chat. It starts off as simple get to know you type questions. The player would be given a couple options to ask Rielle and his answers vary on the question. Like asking if he had siblings, (six older brothers back home) Any hobbies, (He enjoyed collecting human things and singing) Rielle will ask Yuu questions in turn and the player can s elect from the presented options. The answer does not alter any outcomes. Finally Yuu ask why he's avoiding Sebastian or why Rielle chose to come to RSA. Both questions lead to the same outcome where Rielle explains the trouble.

He and Sebastian were childhood friends. But while Rielle was ever curious about the surface, Sebastian was fine with being under water. He comments his father, the king, has never been a very understanding merman. He always said it was fine for other merfolk to come and go to the surface, but a prince of the sea belonged only in the sea. Rielle hid his collection of objects from his father because of this. However, he wanted to attend magic school on the surface instead of an underwater academy like his brothers. Rielle had applied to RSA and he figured it was better to ask forgiveness than permission to go, and fully intended to leave under his fathers nose and not say where he went until he was on the surface and settled. Sebastian, as one of Rielles closest friends, knew all about it, and told the king. Rielle and his father had a horrible argument which resulted in the princes collection being destroyed. After that he wanted nothing to do with Sebastian, and Rielle ran away from home shortly after, going to an estranged aunt on the surface to give him shelter till school started. He does not go into detail as to why, but its implied Azul had a hand in how Rielle was able to come to the surface at all.

As they continue the conversation, Yuu brings up the points Azul made about Sebastian being genuine in his apology, and how him coming to the surface was a big deal for him. Rielle doesn't deny these things, but replies it does not undo the damage done. Though he does admit he seeing him again after the two years he's been away made him realize how much he missed his friend. Yuu points out that Sebastian must miss him too.

After their boat ride, they ride back to RSA since Rielle mentions he has to close out the festival. There they find Sebastian, Azul and Rook are still there. Sebastian and Rielle stare at each other for a moment and Rielle says he's finally ready to hear Sebastian out. The boy once again apologizes for how things happened in middle school. He was scared Rielle would get in even more trouble if he up and left without a word to the surface. He said the king noticed how cheerful Rielle was, not knowing it's because he got accepted to RSA. When the king asked if anything good had happened, Sebastian told the truth and the rest is history. Sebastian once again apologizes, he knows it wont undo the damage. But he cares about Rielle and misses his friend. Then he moves on to the matter that he's been trying to get to all day. Rielles father and brothers were planning to show up unannounced in a couple weeks and Sebastian came to warn him so he wouldn't be ambushed.

Rielle and Azul seemed shocked the king would come up here and Rielle is freaking out about what that could mean or if his father was planning on dragging him home. As much as Rielle misses his brothers, he isn't ready for a reunion just yet. Yuu asks Sebastian if they are planning to stay long, and he replies it's only for a weekend since they can't be away long. Yuu then offers their new friend to have a sleepover at Ramshackle if he truly isn't ready to face his father. Reasoning that a couple weeks is enough time to get the permission to leave campus. Rielle agrees to this plan and thanks Sebastian for coming all this way to warn him. The two agree to keep in contact to try and rebuild their friendship.

Afterwards, Rielle says he has to go to the closing ceremonies for the festival, which is a concert held by the students and he was the final act. The last Twistune of the event is Rielle singing a love song that pays homage to/is inspired by 'Kiss the Girl' while seeing The characters dance in the audience.

After the party is over, Yuu, Grim, Rook, and Azul go back to NRC only to find Che'nya is there causing mischief and being chased by a bunch of NRC students. Once he sees the group has returned, he happily greets them, saying he was entertaining their classmates while they were away and calls for his buddies he snuck onto campus that it was now time to go. Vil finds the group afterwards and asks if they got any good info on the event, and Yuu realizes they stopped taking notes after meeting Rielle and had next to nothing to give to Vil. It ends with Vil being irrated and berating all of them for wasting time when they had one job.

#twisted wonderland #twst yuu #twst oc #twst #twst fanevent #rsa #royal sword academy #nrc #night raven college #twst grim #twst rielle #prince rielle #azul ashengrotto #rook hunt #twst chenya #vil schoenheit #valentine's day #the little mermaid

124 notes · View notes

colorsunimaginable · 8 months

Text

the spare // chapter sixty-four // death eater ! tom hiddleston oc x plus size ofc - voldemort wins au

story summary:

While on a mission to avenge the death of her best friend, Ilvermorny graduate Melisa Alder finds herself in the middle of the fight to defeat Voldemort. Upon capture after the Dark Lord's triumph, she's being sold at an auction with other muggle borns and blood traitors. Her only hope is also her only bidder - the tall, dark, and handsome Thomus Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy's younger half-brother. Is he just another Death Eater or is he hiding more than just his face beneath the mask? Will she realize her true potential to be one of the resistance's greatest weapons?

*a Voldemort Wins AU with Tom Hiddleston cast as an OC x a plus size protagonist* *takes place in The Auction universe by Lovesbitca8*

words for this chapter: 5.7k warnings for this chapter: none

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Chapter Sixty-Four:

“I haven’t given up!” I snap angrily, shoving my fists into the dirt to push myself to my knees. “The damn thing just –“

Another loud crack of thunder and the wind picks up, drowning out my words. The mass hovers, dark clouds churning with growing speed. Flashes of lightning strike from within its core, spreading like white veins just beneath the misty surface. I watch in horror as the mass gets sucked to its center, almost disappearing completely before exploding outward with a roar. The black clouds cover the sky, pouring rain upon us.

My eyes are wide as saucers as I stare up at the sky, mouth agape, lips trying to form the words. Lightning flies across the clouds before striking the ground several yards away, sending shock waves through the dirt. The deafening thunder in its wake makes my very bones tremble.

My shoulders rise as I inhale, trying to suck in the thick magic in the air. I raise my hand and point two fingers to the sky.

“Piertotum Venefi –“

Another arm of lighting pierces the earth in a bright white flash, temporarily blinding me. It struck so close that the seismic waves sends me flying backwards. I land on my back, but quickly push myself up, braced by the heels of my hands. Though the bright light has left blinding imprints on my vision, I see the clouds swirling, circling right over my head.

The next time the lightning strikes, it’s not going to miss.

Tears in my eyes, I crane my neck to where Higgins stands, and his name freezes on my tongue.

Instead of Higgins, it’s Rodolphus. Hands in his pockets, a relaxed, cruel smile on his face.

“Did you really think you were strong enough?”

I gasp awake, nearly jolting upright in bed. Blindly my hand reaches out across the bed, panic rising briefly to find Thomus’ side empty and cold. Then I remember Thomus has been gone for nearly a week.

My face falls back onto my pillow as I squeeze my eyes shut. A tension headache is building behind my eyes, but I don’t have the will to get up just yet. The room is silent except for a soft cool breeze drifting through the open window, bringing the sound of rustling trees. I don’t hear any birds, so it’s probably night. I’d have to go downstairs to get the actual time.

Before he left, Thomus had presented me with an analog clock. He’d pried off the clear plastic cover so I could feel where the hands were positioned. It had been so thoughtful and unexpected that I’d really fought to keep my emotions at bay. It gave me a smidgen of control back, more self-awareness instead of just floating through my current state of existence directionless. The ticking noise drives me so fucking bonkers, so I have to keep it shoved under the couch in the living room.

The door squeaks open and I’m instantly wide awake, clutching the covers and sitting upright. As I wait for Thomus’ voice, a light weight plops onto the bed. A combination of purr and meow comes from the moving weight. Smiling, I hold my hand out and Caelan bumps his head into my palm.

A second later and the fur under my hand transfigures into hair that’s definitely more human-like. My hand falls away as the head rises to match my height.

I smile and give him a little wave. Then, remembering I’m naked except for my undies, I pull the covers back up to my chin.

“Melisa,” Caelan says hesitantly. “Ye can hear me right?”

My lips curl up again and I nod.

“Goldman’s downstairs. He wants to talk.” Caelan sounds calm, but this surprise visit instantly puts my heart in my throat. I don’t know for sure what Kyle wants, but I have a pretty good guess.

Caelan moves off the bed at my slow nod. “I’ll tell him you’ll be just a minute.”

When the door creaks closed with a soft click, I toss away the covers. My hoodie is on the floor, and I think my shorts are in the bathroom. After I have those on, I turn my head down and run my fingers through my hair before flipping it back. I showered yesterday, so I shouldn’t be too disgusting to look at.

I know I shouldn’t care about what he thinks, but it’s impossible to turn fears like that off. Like despite not wearing them for weeks, my face still feels empty without my glasses. Some days I wear them for nothing. Old habits die hard.

I take the bottle of meds with me downstairs, the shaking of the pills against plastic announcing my arrival long before I’d finished my descent. I don’t stop in the living room, turning right into the kitchen. I get one bare foot on the tile floor before barreling face first into someone. Immediately, I stumble back, muttering curses no one will hear. The bottle shakes as I grip it tighter and throw my other hand up against a solid chest.

Strong hands on my upper arms hold me steady. “Whoa-ho, watch it there, darlin’ – holy shit, you weren’t kidding, man.” The deep voice I’ve heard before, but the slight drawl I pick up makes me think I haven’t. “She looks rough .”

I don’t bother to hide my confusion as I shove his hands off me, feeling for the way around him through the doorway. Once I find my exit, I push past him, heading for the cupboards. I feel for the second one to the right of the sink and pull out a glass. Two steps over and I’m filling it from the tap. As you can tell I’ve done this routine a lot.

I turn to the kitchen island with my water and meds. My mind whirls as his words sink in. What’s so wrong with my appearance that he felt the need to comment on it?

Footsteps hadn’t followed me into the kitchen, so once I’ve swallowed my drugs, I head for the living room. With a hand up, I don’t run into anyone at the doorway. The room smells pleasantly smokey as I walk toward my usual spot on the couch. Snaps, crackles, and heat tell me someone lit the fire.

“Glad to see you finally joined us.” Now this voice I recognize. Has Kyle always kinda sounded like a douche?

I curl my legs up onto the couch beside me and shrug. Someone sits next to me.

“You sure Thomus isn’t gonna come walkin’ through the door any minute?” that deep drawl asks from across the room.

“Malfoy’s in Switzerland,” Caelan answers from beside me. “Do ye really think he’s gonna be walking in if he’s in Switzerland?”

“You sure you got the right Malfoy?” Deep Drawl asks.

“Aye, I’m sure,” Caelan quips.

I tap Caelan on the shoulder, sign who and point towards Deep Drawl’s voice.

“Damn, there goes my reputation of being unforgettable,” Deep Drawl says. I still wait a moment, facing Caelan, waiting for an answer. When he doesn’t, Deep Drawl jumps back in. “It’s Jacob Astor.”

At my surprised expression, Caelan quickly replies, “He’s here because he can understand what you’re sayin’.”

I mouth oh and nod in understanding. I turn my face towards where I heard Kyle last and gesture for him to speak.

“She’s sayin’ go ahead,” Astor says.

“Obviously,” Kyle snaps. “So what’s going on with you? I hear you’ve been cursed.”

Nodding, I spell out and sign my response. Astor translates pretty easily.

“She says, Blind. Mute. But fine. ”

“And your magic?”

I press my lips together and shake my head.

“Really?” Kyle says, dripping with hostility. “After all this time you still can’t perform magic? What happened to the two time Wandless Magic Tournament Champion? I want that girl back.”

My jaw has fallen slack and my hands start to move, but I’m too slow for him.

“How hard are you really trying?” he berates. “Don’t you understand there’s a war going on out there? Not everyone can sit on their fat asses all day and play house.”

There’s only one sign I have for him now and it’s my fuckin middle finger raised right to his face.

“What the bloody hell’s your problem, Goldman?” Caelan jumps in.

“This war has been getting out of hand,” Kyle responds, frustrated. “MACUSA has to keep finding excuses not to interfere. What’s happening in Switzerland is bad .”

“I thought Switzerland was stable?” Astor asks.

“The new Swiss Minister is another fucking puppet to the Death Eaters.” Kyle sounds like he starts to pace. “It’s only a matter of time before things get worse. There’s only so many No-Maj’s that can die before their kind starts to notice.”

“People here have been suspicious since the Royals went to Australia,” Caelan kinda agrees.

“Look, the end of the war is months away at the very least,” Astor says. “She’s got time to figure her shit out.”

Kyle sighs disapprovingly. “I still don’t like it.”

I give him another middle finger and turn to Caelan, signing.

“She wants to know what more she can do to help,” Astor says for me.

“I’ll have to let you know,” Caelan says hesitantly. Which means there’s nothing.

I sigh in frustration, turning away to scowl at nothing. A burning ball of rage and frustration is growing inside me.

“Do you think you’ve made Sam proud?” Kyle asks and I freeze.

“Who’s Sam?” Caelan asks, no doubt remembering my old name for him.

“Her childhood best friend who was murdered by Voldemort.”

My shock has rendered me speechless, not that I can speak obviously. Before I could demand how he knew that, he continues.

“You look shocked. Did you think I was joking when I said I’d done my research on you? Professor Higgins was so quick to open up once he’d been told you’d been kidnapped.” He chuckles darkly. “No one questions MACUSA investigators.”

I’m not shocked Kyle found out about me so easily, but I am shocked that he’d be such an asshole. Is this really happening right now? That burning ball inside is only glowing hotter.

“Do you think Sam would approve of you sleeping with the enemy? Fucking and forgetting that Malfoy works for the man who killed her? What kind of friend are you?”

My chest convulses with suppressed sobs as tears brim my eyes.

“How could you forget what they did to her?”

Rage swells in my chest, uncontrollable and wild. I’ve somehow gotten to my feet, my fists balled at my sides.

“ Shut up!” I scream, and I hardly recognize my own voice. It’s practically sandpaper, so dry and scratchy. “ Shut up! Shut up! ”

There’s a loud glass cracking noise at the tail end of my words and I slap my hands over my mouth in shock.

Goldman laughs. “There she is! I knew you were in there.”

“You owe me 50 Dragots, Goldman,” Astor says, not hiding his smug tone.

“Ye had a bet going?” Caelan hisses. “That’s so fucked up. Look at her! She’s - “

“Not fucking useless afterall,” Kyle replies with ice.

While they were talking, I feel around for the glass I heard crack. I shuffle to the armchair, sinking to my knees in front of the TV. My fingers run down the big crack across the screen. I bite my lip to stop it from trembling as tears finally fall.

My loud sniffle breaks up their chatter.

“Think you have a better grip on it now?” Kyle asks me. “I wouldn’t have to be such a dick if you could just get your shit together and be the badass witch you’re supposed to be.”

I nod. It’s a lie, but I’ll say anything just to get them to leave. I’m seconds away from falling apart and I don’t want an audience for the hot mess I’m about to turn into.

“Both of ye are right pricks,” Caelan says. “Tis not right.”

“There’s far more at stake than some hurt feelings,” Astor says. “She’ll be fine.”

I’m crying on the floor. Does anybody really believe that I'm fine?

“We’re Flooing out,” Astor says, his voice getting closer. “If Thomus asks, tell him I was just lookin’ for him.”

He shuffles past me, calling out for Cliveden. Kyle does the same after him. Caelan kneels down next to me.

“Do ye want me to try to fix it?” he asks. “I know it’s Muggle tech, but I could give it a try.”

I shake my head, not sure I’d even trust myself to do something so risky.

“You’ll… be alright?” he asks.

I’m already nodding before I realize.

I have to be. I have to be alright.

~*~

After Caelan leaves out the back door, I don’t hold back my sobs. I hear my heavy breathing, but not my voice.

Do you think you’ve made Sam proud?

How could I even entertain that question? Do I think she’d want me to be risking my life trying to avenge hers? Absolutely the fuck not. Like what kind of question is that?

It doesn’t matter what she would think anymore. She’s fucking dead .

What kind of friend are you?

A terrible one. The worst kind.

I’d come here to do everything in my power to fuck shit up and take my revenge. Is it what Sam would have wanted? No. Even Jonathan tried to persuade me out of coming.

But I hadn’t been able to stay. I couldn’t stay and continue to blame myself for her death.

I’d been hung up on some guy whose name I don’t even remember. I was supposed to meet her for dinner at Alonzo’s, our favorite Italian place, but the guy wanted to see me at the last minute, so I called in a raincheck on dinner. I’d been so envious of her and Jonathan’s relationship, and I was desperate to be in one, too.

I know it’s stupid, but it’s all I’ve ever wanted. To have that specific kind of love, like it’s the only thing that could ever make me feel whole.

And because I’d been selfish, I bailed on her.

She had already been on her way, based on where they found her body. She’d been alone. Vulnerable.

If only I’d been there.

None of these feelings are new to me, of course. It’s an old wound Kyle had just ground in dirt. But there’s a new ache now. It’s suddenly shown up and appeared out of the blue like a bruise. I’m bleeding internally and it’s far too late to save me.

Snot is gonna come running out of my nose any second, so I grab the edge of my hoodie and blow into it, too numb to care. When I can breathe again, my fingers feel for the TV.

I have to continue, regardless of how I feel. What I feel doesn’t matter. It’s not about me when I have the chance, the power to help.

I’m sounding a lot like fucking Spiderman and I don’t like it whatsoever. I don’t want to be a hero. I just want this to be over.

Thomus is… a distraction. He can’t be what I want him to be. He’s not the one that’s going to fulfill my only dream, my only real desire. It’s not like he’s going to suddenly change his mind about people like me. He’s not going to wake up one morning and decide to be a better person. I don’t wanna be with someone who’s basically a fucking Nazi. We can’t pretend that once this is all over, he’s not going to end up either dead or in prison. We don’t have a future together.

Because of course, the one guy that I want is the one guy I can’t have. The one my gut is telling me could be… more, could be something.

The TV breaking has to be some kind of sign, and I don’t think it’s a good one.

When I finally go to bed, I force myself to go to my own.

~*~

My shoulders rise as I inhale, trying to suck in the thick magic in the air. I raise my hand and point two fingers to the sky.

“Piertotum Venefi –“

Another arm of lighting pierces the earth in a bright white flash, temporarily blinding me. It struck so close that the seismic waves send me flying backwards. I land on my back, but quickly push myself up, braced by the heels of my hands. Though the bright light has left blinding imprints on my vision, I see the clouds swirling, circling right over my head.

The air thins, like the atmosphere is swelling, pulling back from the shore before the wave hits.

Then it happens in slow motion. Just beneath the dark clouds, jagged tendrils of light spread out like roots from a plant. The main stem of the lightning bolt comes from the spiral, its point sharp. Its aim is precise and sure as it comes straight for me, gaining speed with every second. My hand shoots out just as it reaches me.

“ Piertotum Veneficium! ” I yell before it touches my palm and I’m blinded with bright white light.

The electricity instantly flows through my body and instead of finding an exit, it surges within me. I feel the entity’s immense power as thunder booms again. It doesn’t feel foreign, it feels like it belongs. Like it’s always been mine.

Once my vision clears, I notice the rain stops and the dark clouds fade away to a beautiful blue sky. A swallow swoops low, sailing past me to land on a nearby tree branch. Bubbling water fades in with birdsong and I look around to see I’m by the creek. I feel the smooth rocks and cool damp earth beneath my hands as I lean back.

A twig snaps and I look over my shoulder to see Thomus approaching me with the most devastating smile. He settles next to me as I turn back to the creek. A grin breaks out across my face and I feel at ease, content. Maybe even a bit relieved.

For the first time in I don’t know how long, I wake from my dream feeling rested, the soothing sentiments carrying over into reality. I roll over, rubbing the crust out of my eyes. Then with my eyes still closed, I toss my arm towards the other side of the bed.

It’s foolish to hope that Thomus would come crawl into bed with me. Especially after finding his own bed empty. I mean, okay, he’d definitely come in and demand why I wasn’t in his bed. So that tells me he still hasn’t come home yet.

I want to stay in bed and wallow in how much I miss him, but that’s not a feeling I should be holding on to. I need to get a grip and go touch some grass, I guess.

When I finally roll myself to the edge of the bed and sit up, my eyes try opening, but they flinch against the light.

I think shock is what delays my brain from realizing what’s actually happening. My eyes crack open, my vision hazy, but I can still make out the pale carpet and baseboard, then the wallpaper and window.

I ball my fists and rub my eyes again, a bit more vigorously this time. When I try looking again and I can make out the little flower pattern lining the wall, I’m flooded with happiness and fucking blissful relief.

Standing, I go to the window to look out over the backyard, and I’m stunned to see snow blanketing the garden. The brush is bare of leaves and I can see right down to the creek, white snow lining rocks and fallen tree trunks. It’s so beautiful.

With my bladder demanding to be emptied, I drift to the bathroom in a daze. Is... is the curse just gone?

The moment I ask myself the question, I know it’s not. I swallow and there’s a little spicy tingle in the back of my throat, like I just baby barfed. My knuckles press in on my chest, trying to rub away the burn I feel there between my breasts.

I clear my throat and the short little bursts of vibration in my throat make my heart race. I try to hum and when the noise fills my head, my vision becomes glassy.

I immediately start talking to myself. Nothing I say is important but being able to hear my scratchy voice feels like a miracle.

When my butts numb because I got so distracted, I finish and go to wash my hands. Looking up at myself in the mirror, I gasp in horror at my reflection.

There are dark, veiny lines on and around my eye sockets. They’re kind of blurry, like old tattoos.

Have I looked like this the entire time? Is this what Astor was referring to a few nights ago? How could Thomus not tell me? Why didn’t Hermione? Or Narcissa? Surely , fucking Lucius would have.

The worst part about my reflection though? My fucking hair .

It’s just past my shoulders, split ends sticking out and frayed. My roots have grown out several inches since I’d last seen them. They’re dark compared to the faded pastel tone to the bleached part of my hair. In some sections, the vibrant pink has washed away entirely to reveal the pale blond beneath.

I’m sure if I’d seen the change gradually, I wouldn’t be so horrified, but suddenly seeing a different version of myself than what I expected absolutely crushes me.

I brush my teeth and hop in the shower, needing to warm up. The snow outside makes sense as to why it’s so cold now. I’ll have to ask Thomus what day it actually is when he gets back.

Speaking of Thomus coming back, I wonder what he’s going to think. I want him to be happy about it, but I worry that he’ll be disappointed for some reason. I won’t be the quiet submissive Lot anymore. Not that I was before, but I’m sure I was easier to deal with when I couldn’t voice my opinions.

I take advantage of the good acoustics of the bathroom and sing some scales, trying to warm up my voice. Gradually, I start singing any song I can think of, and soon I’m belting out lyrics at the top of my voice. Some notes are so off-key they’re painful, but I don’t care. I’m just so happy.

My happiness lasts till I go downstairs and stop dead in my tracks. A familiar potion vial is on the counter waiting for me. I lean against the counter, rolling it back and forth between my hands.

I know I have my magic back. That’s what all those dreams have been about - I’ve been internally fighting to regain control of it. I’ve only gotten my senses back because I’ve gotten my magic.

Or that’s my theory anyway.

Even though my heart is racing and I know my decision before I’ve made it, I know having control over my magic is more important than having my senses. Becoming as immune as possible to the suppression potion is vital to my usefulness to the Resistance, to my mission here.

Before I take the potion, I meditate for a while. Thinking back to my dream, I try to visualize the lightning, taking it in, letting it flow through me. The concentration allows me to feel it crackling, humming just below my skin.

Holding onto that feeling, I pull the stopper and tip the vial back. The strength of the potion burns my throat and its strong minty taste makes me gag. I have to concentrate on taking deep breaths so I don’t throw it back up. I feel light-headed as if I’m struggling to catch my breath. Because I’d been concentrating on that, my magic is starting to slip away. My vision starts to fade along with it as black spots bloom, blocking out light. The lightning I can see in my mind’s eye is returning to the sky, dark clouds forming, preparing for its arrival.

No . It’s my fucking magic.

There’s a mental tug of war that has me gripping the bolt with all my might, determined and desperate not to lose it again.

But it works. Slowly, I feel the potion’s power lessen until I’m pulling the bolt back into me and my magic flows through me once again. When I open my eyes , I realize my vision has fully returned and I’m gripping the edge of the counter. It’s not until I can breathe again that I realize I had been holding my breath. I try to take a deep breath but there’s an ache in my chest, that same burning from before, clawing its way out through my throat. That must be the curse.

But you know what? I feel fucking amazing . I bounce around on the balls of my feet as I pull together my breakfast, adrenaline and endorphins pumping through me.

Before I start to make breakfast, I hunt down the record player. After dragging it from the office, I put it on the table and set up the Rocketman soundtrack. As I’m dancing around, sing-screaming my head off to the Bitch is Back , I can’t help but think that the only thing that could make this better is having Thomus here, celebrating with me.

~*~

Finally having all this energy and the eyes to see, I clean the rest of the day, album after album blasting through the house. With that kind of motivation, it doesn’t take long, so the next day I layer on warm clothes, wanting to spend some time in the snow. I should’ve done this first, I know, but now I don’t have the weight of a messy house on my mind.

I bring a Betty Neels book with me, along with a couple blankets, down to the creek. I cocoon myself on the bank with a warming charm. I don’t even start to read at first, choosing instead to just take in the scenery for a while. I feel so calm and at peace, and I want to enjoy it while it lasts.

The book is short and in no time at all, the two love interests are snowed in together in their little cottage.

“Well, that’s ironic,” I say quietly to myself, glancing around at the snow. My eyes go back to the page and I start singing Winter Wonderland , zoning out.

A loud branch snapping shocks me out of my headspace, and when I turn towards the sound, the next lines of lyrics are stuck in my mouth.

Thomus is standing there. His eyes are wide and bright blue in contrast with his hair. His lips are parted in pure disbelief.

“Thomus!” I gently exclaim, scrambling to my feet. I can barely feign the uneasiness in my voice. This is it, the moment I’d been waiting for. The moment he’d find out.

The crunch of snow under his boots and the bubbling water from the creek are the only sounds around us. He’s slowly approaching me, his expression gradually morphing from shock to something else. I give an awkward smile as I wait for him to say something. He blinks rapidly, but his gaze never leaves my face.

“Is…” he starts to say, breath clouding in front of his face, “Is this real?”

I pull my bottom lip between my teeth and bite down, hard. I nod.

Pulling gloves off his hands, he steps closer, so close he reaches out to cup my cheek in his palm. When his other hand comes out to do the same, my fingers curl around the edges of his cloak, pulling him to me. I gaze up into his eyes as he stares down into mine, his thumbs brushing along my cheek, under my eyes.

“H-how?” he breathes.

A nervous, breathy laugh escapes me. “My magic.”

“You did this?” he asks, awe in his voice. I realize he keeps blinking because his eyes are glassy. “All on your own?”

I nod and bite my lip again.

“So is it – is it gone?” he asks.

I shake my head. “No, I’m just… I think I’m stronger than it is.”

It’s his turn to let out a breathy laugh, the corners of his lips turning upward. “That’s amazing.” His hands cradling my face slip back, threading into my hair. “ You’re amazing.”

A blush floods my face as I suppress a grin and shrug. “I am pretty happy about it, not gonna lie.”

He just keeps gazing into my eyes with a look I can only describe as awe. Then his eyebrows pinch together and he frowns.

“I instructed the elves to give you the suppression potion yesterday,” he says. “It should have lasted… two weeks, maybe more.”

My breath is coming in quicker now because I’m so not ready for this, even though I’d tried to prepare.

My hands come up to hold his forearms and I speak slowly. “My magic is the only thing keeping the curse at bay.” I pull one of his hands away from my face and press it against my chest, where the burning still lingers. “I feel it like… trapped inside me.”

He’s quickly shaking his head. “No, it’s not safe for you. It’s not safe for us .”

…Us? I tuck away that tidbit for later.

“Is it because you don’t trust me?” I ask. “I know how to handle myself, it’s not like anyone would find out.”

“It’s not you - “

“It’s them?”

His hands drop from my face and he sighs heavily. “The consequences would be far too steep.”

“Can you even make the potion stronger?” I ask, pulling at strings. “Like what’s it going to take for you to understand it’s going to stop having an effect on me?”

“And what’s it going to take for you to understand that your life’s in danger?” he demands angrily.

“My life’s always in danger!” I snap, releasing my grip on his cloak and taking a step back. “It was in danger the moment I stepped foot in a country where people like you want people like me dead!”

“Fixating on your revenge mission again, are you?” he asks, tone dry. “Believe me when I say that’s a bloody lost cause.”

“Not until he’s dead.”

He scoffs. “What you want is impossible.”

“It’s not about what I want. It’s about what needs to happen,” I press. “All this?” I wave my hand between us. “This is just a distraction. No one could possibly care that a single insignificant witch has her magic when everyone’s busy fighting for their lives.”

He stares at me for a moment with an emotion hidden by his usual mask. “You are anything but insignificant.”

His statement has me reeling. I want to lean into how his words make me feel, but a moment of a few deep breaths and my Occlumency shuts that shit down.

Slowly my head moves side to side. “No, I’m not,” I reply calmly. “If I was, I’d already be dead.”

Thomus looks like he wants to argue, but he stays silent on the matter. He turns away, beginning to pace, kicking away snow. He’s clearly working up to something, and I don’t know what until he stops in front of me, holding his pointer finger in my direction.

“Promise me,” he says. “You have to promise me that you won’t use your magic. Not when we’re in public, not when we’re at a meeting, anywhere , and no matter the circumstances. I don’t care if someone, including me, is dying in front of you, you will not use it.”

My heart’s racing because holy shit, he’s actually -

I make a face. “I don’t know if I can just let you die in front of me,” I admit slowly. “Can I use it when no one’s around? Like here? And what’re we going to say about the curse?”

He shrugs. “That I just found the right method. No one needs to know the truth.”

I nod, obviously agreeing while trying to hide another grin threatening to break out. “So… can I use it here?”

Thomus hesitantly closes the short distance between us. One hand closes around mine and the other comes back to my cheek. His eyes bounce back and forth between mine and fuck, I missed looking at his face.

“If you promise me one more thing,” he murmurs, a slight curve to his lips.

“Let me guess, you want my first born child,” I joke, unable to help myself.

His panty-dropping chuckle melts my insides with his smile. “Promise me you’ll sing more? When I’m around? Not just when you think you’re alone.”

“What?” I ask, genuinely surprised. A blush renews on my cheeks. “I’m not that good of a singer.”

“I could listen to you for hours,” he admits softly.

A breathy scoff escapes my nose as I softly shake my head. “Sure.”

Gripping his cloak once again, I rise up onto my tiptoes to meet his lips with mine. I pull back only to say, “I promise.”

15 notes · View notes

peachyyykid · 2 years

Text

Deceivers Ch. 17 - Mission (nsfw)

Word Count: 4529

Chapter 16 - Newspaper

Chapter 18 - Patches

The banquet was great, just like the last one. It was loud and the small amount of alcohol you had been drinking soon had the desired effect.

You were jumping and dancing with the Kid Pirates, your newfound friends. Even Mammo was able to participate, without drinking of course.

Kid watched you like a hawk. On the inside he was so proud of you for drinking and laughing with his men, showing him how comfortable you were with the crew and the circumstances.

"How are we feeling about the noble lady doctor having amassed a way higher bounty than you?", Killer smirked under his mask, so only Kid could hear.

The redhead growled in disdain.

"It's fucking embarrassing but I blame this stupid Charlos guy. I have some unfinished business with this ugly scum anyways."

"Kid..."

"I know what you want to say. Don't", he commanded in a low voice, but Killer spoke anyways.

"You're not seriously implying that you would attack a world noble, right? Don't get me wrong, of course I'm in, I wanted to punch this bastard at the auction house too. But still, I'm glad that Strawhat beat me to it. The trouble isn't worth the short-lived satisfaction."

"How old are you, eighty?", Kid snorted, "what he did was unacceptable, and I will raise hell on earth if I ever meet him."

"What's more unacceptable? The bounty he put on (y/n) that's bigger than yours or what he did to her?"

Killer sounded as if he only wanted to tease Kid a little, but the captain knew that his first mate was worried that he would grow too soft because of you. He remained silent, staring at the empty bottle of rum in his hand.

He had a soft spot for you, but of course he would rather eat glass than admitting that to anyone.

The conversation the two men just held was far away from you. Your attention was with the crew members, who were all over the place. Everyone was celebrating you - you being a criminal - but it didn't matter anymore. You shouldn't have felt this comfortable in a group of drunk pirates, but you did.

Dancing made you tired and thirsty, so you plopped down on a bench with Flipper, Jonah, and the others.

"This is so much fun!", you cheered and wiped away a few strands of hair that got caught in your lashes.

"Who knew that women could be so cool", Jonah laughed, immediately earning a stern glance from you.

"Women are cool, you're just mad because you have never seen one up close", you shot back, and the other guys sucked in their breaths.

Jonah went red and looked at the floor, but you just started laughing. The two of you started bickering jokingly, while alcohol was poured en masse. You still had to get used to the taste and what it did to your body.

At first, you did a really good job knowing your limits and saying no from time to time, but it became harder with every glass you had. At this point, someone could have handed you dish soap, and you would've accepted the offer.

"God, my head hurts like hell...", you slurred, concentrating on rolling a strand of hair around your finger.

"Don't swear on heaven and hell at the same time, it's bad luck", Mammo told you, but you didn't get his sober thoughts and shrugged it off.

It wasn't the fact that your head hurt that you wanted to take a break from sitting with the guys. You desperately wanted to be with Kid right now. You were just longing for his touch and the warmth of his body.

Another by-product of your newfound drinking habits. While you still had been sober, you didn't dare speaking to him of your own accord today. It was simply because you weren't sure if he was mad at you about the bounty since he had ignored you the entire day. But now you didn't even remember why you initially avoided him tonight.

You excused yourself from the table and strutted towards the cocky redhead, who had watched you the whole time. He knew exactly what was up, and he raised a non-existent brow.

"Missed me?", he smirked, and you huffed, rolling your eyes at him.

"What if?"

He pulled you onto his lap with one of his strong arms. The others at the captain's table were still there. Of course they were, but you couldn't really get used to the fact that there was always someone watching.

"What the fuck took you so long, mh?", he whispered into your ear darkly.

"I don't know", you slurred, "something about you being mad at me. I don't really remember."

You let your head fall on his chest, just to raise it again to look into his eyes, your vision blurry from the alcohol.

"Wait... are you mad at me?", you said with a shocked face.

He took in the sight of your glistening puppy eyes, so innocent and clueless. He supressed the urge to toy with you, you were drunk so you would probably start crying and he couldn't stand that.

"No."

You hummed and started stroking his bare chest with your fingers. You chuckled amusedly when he got goosebumps. He probably didn't even notice them, but it was one of the signs his body gave you to assure you that he liked you.

He looked down at your face with hooded eyes, an intense gaze lingering on your body. You shifted on his lap under his watchful eye and brushed past his dick with your ass. By accident? On purpose? Neither of you knew. He smirked like he always did, and you longed for his touch more and more.

While tiny sparks were flying between the two of you, the party was continuing behind you, with loud and coarse laughter filling the air.

At the same time in Mary Geoise, the Holy Land on top of the Red Line, nobody was in the mood for laughter.

The room was filled with an uncomfortable silence, the only noise being an occasional, drawn-out sniffling sound, as if a toddler with a flu was present. Nobody wanted to speak up.

A man suppressed a cough to avoid breaking the silence first, and suddenly, without any apparent reason, the sniffling toddler wailed and started hitting the table he was sitting at with his palms.

"Son, calm down, we will find your wife and then you can do with her whatever you want", Saint Rosward said.

"I want to skin her alive", Charlos answered in an annoyed tone, "and then frame the skin and hang it up in my room. Her head will be cut off and I want to put it up at our front gates."

"Don't you worry, my advisor said this marine team is the best for the job. They are really good at finding people."

"I want them to find her now!", he demanded and hit the table once again.

"They have to look first, son."

Charlos turned to the marines. He had wanted the entire fleet to look for that whore, but his father told him that the marines had other things to do as well. So, he had to be satisfied with the crew of only two ships dropping all their other tasks and duties specially to find the woman that had dared to flee from him.

He had lost two wives in that fateful night, one ran away and the other had to be punished for trying. Although it had been fun watching her being ripped apart by boars back home in Mary Geoise, it hurt him a lot. She had a great, voluptuous body after all, a great loss.

Now he only had twelve wives left, one less than his friend, and the woman, that nurse he claimed on the streets of Sabaody, had the audacity to tell him no, just because she was apparently engaged to someone else. He felt sorry for her when he shot her fiancé and then her, but she practically asked for it with her disrespectful behaviour.

Finding wife 14 - whatever her name was, his father would know since he requested the wanted poster – was the perfect opportunity to clarify who runs the world and who controls the fate of commoners. A pretty good reminder for all the other slaves in Mary Geoise, a good occasion to break their will further.

Charlos also donated a great sum to the auction house to get her, which made the situation even worse. He wanted the marines to find her, because then he wouldn't have to pay the bounty. It was peanuts for him, but solely out of spite he didn't want to give it to anyone who didn't deserve it. He imagined a commoner owning two billion bellies and shuddered. Money just wasn't for everyone...

"Excuse me, holy Saint Rosward, would you have another picture of the woman?", the captain of the marine crew asked, pulling Charlos from his thoughts, "my men haven't seen the wanted poster properly yet since we were in a hurry to get here after you called."

Rosward nodded his head and his advisor walked down the stairs that separated the world nobles from their visitors.

The marines passed the picture around, memorising the facial features of the tired looking woman. One of them stared at the photo a little too long and gulped visibly. He passed the piece of paper on to his mate with shaking hands, earning a confused look from him.

The strange interaction didn't go unnoticed. The marine captain and Saint Rosward caught up with his behaviour immediately.

"Whatever it is, contain yourself", the captain whispered in his subordinate's direction.

"Is there a problem?", Rosward barked loudly from his elevated seat, and the young marine flinched.

He shook his head rapidly, but the world noble stayed suspicious.

"Spill it or I'll shoot you!", Charlos shrieked and immediately pulled his pistol.

The marine struggled, and everyone in the room could tell. He wasn't very good at hiding it. He knew how impulsive Charlos was, and if he shot him that would just be it. If the world nobles don't get what they want, they take matters into their own hands.

The woman in the picture was his sister, who was nowhere to be found after pirates attacked his home island and killed his parents. This had been hard enough already, but now that he was seeing his younger sister on a wanted poster issued by the world nobles, everything made sense.

He wasn't only worried, he was angry and terrified as well. The woman Charlos wanted to skin alive was his baby sister, his treasure, and the only thing he had left in the world.

But what could he do?

"None of you move or you're next", Charlos sniffled and waddled down the stairs, stopping right in front of Tenmon, his pistol at the ready.

Without any warning, the world noble aimed his weapon at Tenmon's foot, and suddenly a loud banging sound ripped through the awfully quiet air.

The marine screamed in agony and bowed down to hold his foot, blood spilling out of the wound. His comrades flinched, but they weren't allowed to help him. Charlos would keep his promise, shooting them next.

He will kill me for real, Tenmon thought and tried to hold back tears.

"So?", Charlos asked, eagerly awaiting an answer.

"The woman you're looking for is my sister", he pressed out breathily, his voice broken. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks and he didn't dare to wipe them.

Regret and shame immediately hit him. He had just sold his sister to this monster to save his own skin, just because he was scared of the consequences. It was just a fleeting thought, he really wanted to regain composure, but not after Charlos showed how serious he was.

A dumbfounded look appeared on Charlos' round face, while Tenmon still pressed his hand down on his foot, the pain clouding his mind.

"Oh, my holy Charlos, this is great!", the noble yelled and jumped up and down.

Tenmon stared at the ground in defeat. It had always been the same, his entire childhood was him being scared of things while his younger sister took every matter into her own hands. He never questioned their parents, but (y/n) had a mind of her own. She had the habit of pleasing everyone around her, without abandoning her own self. When he had enough of being a scaredy cat, he decided to join the marines. He wanted to do something that would make his family proud.

Soon he learned that being a marine wasn't all that glorious. A handful of his comrades and superiors were corrupt and lusted for nothing but power, the government was full of delusional politicians who knew nothing about actual problems of the people they governed, and the world nobles were the furthest from noble one could imagine.

He never told his sister, simply because he didn't want to ruin her. She was so happy growing up with a worldview that so many people were jealous of. He always thought it was better for her to know nothing that would shake the foundation of said happiness, so she could live her life in peace.

Now there was only regret.

"If she is your sister, you know where she is", Charlos stated.

"I'm so sorry, Saint Charlos, I don't. I haven't seen her since I left home for my last deployment", the marine croaked.

"Liar liar liar!", Charlos wailed and shook his pistol.

Before Tenmon could think about being shot, his captain cut in.

"Excuse me speaking, Saint Charlos, but my lieutenant isn't lying. He came back from home for his deployment six months ago and I have since worked with him every day."

Charlos scanned both their faces, and luckily the captain was able to keep a straight expression. It wasn't a lie after all, Tenmon didn't even get to leave for his sister's wedding because the news of her disappearance reached the base a day prior to his departure.

"Fine", the noble sniffled, "then you will make sure she comes to me."

Tenmon studied the floor with furrowed brows, suppressing the urge to cry again. This was the worst scenario possible, a trap with him as bait. His sister would surely fall for it, if she was still alive.

Charlos felt great implementing a plan to catch his slave, carried out by the marine troop under his watchful eye, with the slaves' brother as a part of all of it. A wide grin was plastered all over his stupid face and he hummed a happy little tune.

Tenmon's stomach sunk more and more on the way back to their base. He had wanted to give his sister a sign, a hint, anything that would prevent her from trying to find him, but he was too scared. Charlos' eyes had never left him while he made him write a note for the newspaper. He hadn't been able to assess the situation, so there was no hint after all.

When he had told his captain, he only said "luckily you didn't pull this, Charlos is a simple minded person, but he's not stupid when it comes to getting what he wants", so now he silently sat in his hammock, regret eating him up from the inside.

Naturally, he should give up his life to save his sister, this was his duty as an older brother. But it conflicted with his duties of being a marine. Then again, his sister wasn't even a criminal by the definition of common sense. Everyone knew that, but it didn't help. Usually this would be a job like any other, he would never complain. But this was different.

Tenmon put his head in his hands and rubbed his eyes to push the tears back.

Hell, it was possible that his sister wasn't even alive anymore! The dreading uncertainty was stirring in his guts, and he felt like vomiting.

"This is so fucked!", he screamed suddenly and jumped of the hammock, storming out of the room in rage.

All of this happened far away from the Victoria Punk, where the banquet was still going on. Of course you were still on Kid's lap, snuggled up against his body.

Your eyes were slowly closing occasionally, but you were woken up every time Kid laughed, his chest shaking and his loud voice filling your ears. He had spread his fur coat over your entire body as soon as you started shivering after your body cooled down from all the dancing and partying. Now it was cosy, warmth radiating both from his body and his heavy coat, making you sleepier by the minute.

His left hand was always holding a bottle of rum, but his right hand had never left your body, until now. He slowly put it under his fur and continued holding you, but not without stroking your exposed thighs.

Gently at first, but then he grew impatient. He let out a quiet growl, grabbing it harshly, earning a small yelp from you. His rough hand kept massaging your thigh and he moved upwards slowly.

You could feel his dick twitching below your hip and you gulped, because you still weren't used to this. Besides, the whole crew was still around, some of them right next to the two of you. You wondered how observant they were and if they would look away... in case Kid would try something, which you hoped he wouldn't.

It was as if you could tell the future. Your eyes shot open when his hand reached under your skirt, pulling your pants aside slowly. He took a deep breath of relief while you held yours. He wasn't actually going to... right?

But then, in one swift movement, he pulled your pants away completely and his cold fingertips connected to your clit. You suppressed a whimper and hid your face in the thick fur, so the other men at the table couldn't see you struggling.

Moku told a funny story and Kid chuckled darkly, but you were sure that it didn't have anything to do with the story but more with him teasing you right on deck, the only protection from everyone's eyes being a layer of fur.

"Don't you dare falling asleep", the redhead whispered into your ear.

Two of his fingers were playing with your clit now, alternating between slower and faster strokes. It became increasingly harder to hold back small moans, so you hoped that the loudness of the music and the laughter on deck would do the rest. You didn't answer either because you were afraid your speaking voice would tell on you. Falling asleep wasn't in the cards anymore anyways.

He put down the bottle he had been holding and encircled your head with his other hand, pulling you as close as possible, his lips barely touching your ear.

"You're doing so well, struggling to keep quiet", he purred.

The wetness started pooling under his fingers and he hummed appreciatively, moving the pad of his index finger against your entrance. You moaned into his biceps, muffling the sound as much as possible.

"This is too easy sweetheart."

With that, he pushed two fingers past your dripping entrance. Your eyes widened with pleasure, then with worry, because what if the others could hear the squelching sound that your pussy produced with his fingers moving inside of you? Or what if the fur was moving suspiciously?

With a wide smirk, he pushed his fingers even further inside and you had to gasp. There was no time to worry about your surroundings, you had to concentrate to not let out a louder moan. Whimpering was the only sound you let escape from your mouth, although his movement against your clenching walls wanted to make you scream.

Was the alcohol in your system tricking you or was the fur threatening to slip?

"If you cum I will throw the coat away", Kid whispered into your ear huskily and with a shocked expression you clawed into his chest.

"Y-you wouldn't...", you managed to press out between quiet mewls.

"You wanna try your luck?", he answered sternly.

His eyes were fixated on your face, watching you ponder if he actually meant his threat, so he pulled at the fur just enough that you hastily shook your head. You hoped that your body wouldn't betray you, because his fingers just felt so good inside of you.

"Good girl", he hummed and kissed the shell of your ear.

The hand that wasn't attached to your pussy moved away from you to grab the bottle of rum again, and he took a big swig while his fingers still worked his magic inside of you. You could feel every inch of his calloused digits against your sensitive skin.

Time went by excruciatingly slow, and Kid didn't show any signs of exhaustion, unlike you. You whimpered into the fur as quietly as humanely possible. Kid was having way too much fun doing this, you thought. On the outside, everything looked normal. He was drinking, eating, and talking to his crew, as if he wasn't fingering you right in front of them.

A third finger started rubbing your clit and another wave of pleasure washed over you. Suppressing the urge to cum was hard, but you didn't want to give Kid the satisfaction, plus you were actually scared that he would expose you. The knot in your abdomen grew painfully.

"Is (y/n) alright?", Heat suddenly said with concern in his voice, and you held your breath in shock.

"She's sleeping", Kid just said, and Heat shrugged.

"Probably a bad dream then."

"Why don't you take her to bed?", Killer suggested. You shivered.

Oh my god, he knows!

With a dark chuckle, Kid put the bottle down and held your body and the fur with his arm, without taking his fingers out of your pussy. When he stood up and carried you towards the galley, a gust of air went past you and you felt the cold where the wetness pooled on the inside of your thighs.

"I held back long enough anyways", he growled annoyedly and pushed open the hallway door with his foot.

In a matter of seconds, Kid had thrown you on the bed and was pushing your face into the mattress. He had taken his fingers out of you and now he pushed your skirt up, exposing your ass.

"You seem impatient", you teased, earning you a harsh smack on your ass.

"Hey!", you protested, but Kid only crashed his lips on yours from behind. Your head was in an awkward angle, but the kiss felt too good to care. His soft lips connecting to yours was a pure bliss, making you shiver.

"Shut up", he mumbled into your mouth.

With a swift movement, he grabbed your pants and tore them apart (another piece of clothing ruined...) and you could finally moan out loud when he shoved his fingers into you once again. He spread them apart, coating everything with your juice before taking them out with a squelching sound.

You whined at the loss, but when you heard the fabric of his trousers rustling, you knew that something bigger than his fingers would fill you up soon enough. He grabbed you by the hips with both hands and pulled you towards the end of the bed, your legs now dangling over the edge.

You couldn't see what he was doing behind your back, you just felt him opening your legs by pressing his thigh between them. In a matter of seconds and without forewarning, he replaced his thigh with his hard dick and pushed it past your entrance and into your wet pussy, stretching you out inch by inch.

You gasped and moaned at the sudden sensation, it was still feeling unfamiliar, and it was still surprisingly big. The man towering over you released a breath he had been holding and started moving in rhythmic thrusts. The new position felt like he was impaling you, but he hit a sweet spot right away.

"Fuck I-", you started and gripped the sheets with both hands, a view that drove Kid wild. He watched your ass accompanying his thrusts and how you struggled to take him.

His grunts filled the room, nearly overshadowing the banquet that was still happening outside. You tried to keep your moans at bay, but there was no use. His movements were hard, but not too fast, so every time he hit your pelvis you let out a ragged moan until your throat went dry.

He grabbed a handful of your hair and turned your head to the side, forcing you to look at him. With a low grunt, he took in the sight of you, your eyes cloudy and your mouth slightly agape. He showed his signature smirk, knowing that he was the cause of that.

You whimpered almost desperately when you saw him fucking you this rough, so spontaneously and passionately. His brows were drawn together, and he bared his gritted teeth, only concentrating on filling you up.

His grunts and your moans synchronised, and he bend down so his stomach and chest were touching your back. The new angle made you scream in delight. He pushed your lower abdomen into the mattress, adding another sensation to the mix.

Unexpectedly, he wrapped one of his arms around you and started placing tender kisses on your cheeks before wiping a sweaty strand of hair from your forehead. You felt his movements getting sloppier, small moans escaping his lips occasionally.

With another few hard thrusts, he released himself inside of you and all of this sent you over the edge directly after him. You could feel his dick twitching inside your pussy, and the knot that had been building up since he started fingering you in his lap was snapping in your abdomen. The orgasm rippled through your entire body, starting from your core. You rolled your eyes back and felt your walls clenching harshly on their own. Whimpering, you clawed the sheets and contracted your biceps and shoulder muscles.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck", you murmured and closed your eyes, your breathing shallow.

Kid was still inside of you and his body weight on your back felt so comfortable, you could drift right to sleep. You also didn't feel that drunk anymore, just a little dizzy.

He pulled out slowly, earning a last whimper from you. Your pussy felt empty and cum was dripping onto the sheet.

"Turn around", Kid commanded, and you obliged.

He was towering over you, and you looked up at him with tired eyes. For the last few hours, you had been able to forget all your worries, and weirdly it was just thanks to him. His eyes trailed over your body, looking at your messed up outfit and make up, observing your heaving chest and shaky legs. He was very pleased with his work, it suited you so much.

You stretched out your arm and he looked at it confusedly.

"Come here you idiot, you can't take me like that and then just stand there", you said with a slight chuckle.

There it was again. This weird feeling he had, just like last time you had sex. He thought he would just drunkenly fuck you at a whim tonight, a little rougher and angrier than last time, and then he would go back outside to continue getting wasted, but he wanted to hold you again. Although he was sceptical and unfamiliar with this feeling, he moved towards you and encircled your body with his arms, pulling you as close as possible. It felt good. Warm and comforting.

Alcohol was forever after all, but maybe you weren't.

#kid pirates #one piece #one piece fanfiction #eustass #kid #kidd #fanfiction #fanfic #pirates #eustass kid x reader #eustasscaptainkid #eustass x reader #kid x reader

98 notes · View notes

alarici · 11 days

Note

hello! i found the jockey mello / horsegirl near AU you posted about a little while back really fun / compelling, if you wanted to write anything for / about that :') !!

imo the term "horsegirl" is gender neutral so tbc near is a guy/he him prns here. the transness of cisness of his gender here isnt addressed.

warning for mentioned animal abuse. i don't approve of the racing industry as is, but i'm also interested in the workings of it and also i guess writing about it. warning for mention of drug (cocaine) use & of body image/weight issues--mello is tall to be a jockey.

teen rating, 837 words

siri play pale green things by the mountain goats

---------

Mello wakes up before dawn and finds the horses in the stables. The groom is already up. There's mist on the track. The barn is alive, and it's cool out.

The horses will be warm and snorting fire, soon.

Mello exercises ten horses before breakfast. Rides ten of them a couple kilometers around the track until he can't feel his legs. It's good, clean work. No time to think too much about anything but the burn of his forearms and the young colts and fillies gnashing at the bit. It's a breeze[1] day, so he's running them all full out. This used to feel like flying.

It felt like the closest thing to salvation when there was a reason for it. A shining goal.

Mello's been in Saratoga for three months. No matter how good he is, not matter that he passed his jockey certification in the New York state two months ago, he's just exercising the ponies.

He hasn't jockeyed in so much as a cheap claimer[2].

Hell, he's below weight. He won thousands of dollars on grass and on turf back in England. His boss at Saratoga doesn't seem to like him. The boss says he doesn't like his attitude, which Mello swears he's getting a better handle on (he isn't).

Not when the best way to be good at this is the blow. Not when Mello feels split from where he should be, where he ran from a year ago, as soon as the sharks closed in.

Mello ran away, and Near's out there still whispering to the horses at auction.

This one will be a winner. Bet on it.

Mello speaks to the horses running under him. He can make them faster. He can ride up the rail at the eight-pole and storm to the wire, a come-from-behind. He can tap another ounce of effort from the seasoned racemares and the newly-saddled two year-olds.

Mello's callouses grow callouses, and he doesn't know what the next step is.

Of course nobody gave him a damn recommendation to get work here. Not with how he left things back home.

But he knows if they let him run, he'd win. And that's the fucked up part.

It's utter humiliation to land in Dublin, two years after the first departure from England. He'd seen New York and than Indianapolis and finally Vegas. Nothing stuck. America found me wanting.

I made friends with some kids who grew up on farms and only knew horses, but I already have friends like those in the old country. I met many wonderful horses. I gave them carrots and dark beers and stroked their flanks. I got sanctioned for breaking the whipping rules[3]. I won many races. They never let me into a single graded stakes.[4]

Near is where Mello left him, just outside Liverpool. His hair has grown a little. He's fallen in with a rich man who buys ponies for fun, and every horse Near's told the man to buy has won a graded stakes.

Mello knows the last time Near sat on a horse, it was the dead broke old track pony. A gelding so long in the tooth and gentle that they could put little children on it.

"What about steeplechase?"

Near must have celebrated his twentieth birthday rolling in his modest earnings. At least one of them had been able to convert their only skillsets. Near is always the winner.

Mello thinks--they gave you a deeply unsettling ability to pick young horses. They gave me a bloody mouth and a bloody nose.

This is what's left of the operation to turn children into ready-made horsemen. Mello doesn't even want to think about it. He's got nothing left, and he'd lucky they didn't run him out of America before he packed up and left.

"You should rest. For the first week," Near says. As though he thinks Mello has learned to rest. As though he thinks speaking to Mello at a time like this is a good idea. Mello's lying in the dirt, wind knocked out of him. The devil of a filly they had him ride, to test her out over some minor hurdles, threw him and then flipped herself. She's trotting away from the scene of the crime, unhurt. Mello stares up at Near. Near has no dirt on him. There's mud under Mello's fingers and certainly a splatter of it on his face.

Mello gets himself up and fights the vertigo--the standing blackout--as Near watches on.

"Help me catch her," Mello grunts, jogging after the filly.

Mello doesn't rest. But they don't let him ride another horse, valuable property, until Near can vouch for him.

"You're going to take her to the Grand National."

"Near, she's three years old. The youngest horse to win was…" Mello runs in front of the horse and dares her to kick him in the chest. That could put him out of his homecoming-in-failure-induced misery.

"…The youngest horse to win the Grand National Steeplechase was five years old, and that last one to win at that age was a century ago," Near finishes. He's walked after Mello as Mello's gone to fetch the horse.

"This horse is fucking insane." Mello says, finally wrapping his fingers around her reigns.

"Her name is Run Melos," Near says. "We claimed her for five thousand quid."

breeze -- racehorses are exercised by running them on a track but it's usually not every day the riders have them running full out. breezing is running the horse at top speed

claimer -- there are many levels of the "quality" of horses races that increase the stakes/money/prizes involved. claiming races, where horses can be bought out by another owner for a set price at the beginning if they place/win are seen as low teir races

whipping rules -- in the US and many other countries, there's a set limit on the amount of times you can use the riding crop on the horse as a "signal" to get the horse to move faster.

grades stakes -- most prestigous tier of racing further subdivided into black type, grade 3, grade 2, grade 1 (think kentucky derby, the derby is grade 1). a similar system exists in steeplechase i think

steeplechase is racing over hurdles. it's kind of fucking nuts--very dangerous for the horses & the riders

the thing is i'd want to explore an element of how being in a sport makes you fucking crazy to outsiders and do things that are morally not okay but are in your profession, but i might just make mello come off as a dick.

this is what i consider animal abuse, but mello also cares very much about that horse type this. issa right mess. less a 'they didn't know better' but the mind is full of justificationsisms for bad things.

#a.personal

3 notes · View notes

rueitae · 1 year

Text

Season 1, Episode 8 the lucky cat caper for @csweekly

Another of my favorite episodes almost entirely thanks to Chase Devineaux and his beloved coat. RIP

The screen is SATURATED in red the ENTIRE exam. Trying to show that Black Sheep was SAFE even if she didn’t realize it at the time.

I find it a neat detail that Carmen here isn’t looking to see if she has the dollar until she’s tried several pockets and has stopped to rest. The scene is really effective for me to show exactly how good she is.

More of Player and Carmen talking through nightmares for their health, please. How many times has this happened before and where are the fics. In general I crave to see more domestic in between caper scenes like this. The downtime. On that same vein, love the insight into the team that the whole scene provides. Player just literally hangs out on the phone with Carmen all day, just for fun. Presumably this is what they always do. Nice reminder that capers aside, they are still each other's best friend and they want to hang out.

CARMEN WANTS TO SPOIL HER FRIENDS. I love the entire auction sequence because probably unsurprisingly her love language to others is gifting/acts of service. Zack’s favorite movie? Yeah let’s get him the car because he’s my driver and I can’t wait to see his reaction. Player wants to spontaneously take up stamp collecting? Yeah I’ll get him the one of a kind stamp to START. Yeah I love Carmen loving her friends. This episode is so chalk full of between the lines team red bonding.

IM SORRY. THE SHOE kills me every time. Season 1 Chase is such a good fumbling foil. I love him so much. He’s on the right track usually but soooooo wrong. Julia again has such patience that she really shouldn’t have to put up with. She’s the most right track but everyone around her has blinders on. Otherwise this show wouldn’t be near as long lol.

First episode with Mime Bomb in the field! He’s such a funky dude. Nice to see that the Faculty have become proficient in mime for him. They took a while to get what he was saying in the opening episodes but now Maelstrom gets him right away. There’s a fic in there somewhere with several (probably creepy) one on one sessions between the two.

I really love that the Cleaners actually clean throughout the show lol. They don’t seem to mind. Probably my favorite of the VILE operatives. They’re just so. Done. Dangerous. Chill.

AND they pause for TEA and gossip. As in Coach Brunt and Shadowsan tensions. Love these guys.

No one backs up Brunt that VILE is family. Like yeah she can live in her own little world. It’s such a pity the show wasn’t able to explore this fully you can see the set up. They wanted to do something and it needed another season to bring it around.

FINE FINE SEND WHOMEVER. The Faculty are simultaneously the cruelest and absolute silliest people on the planet. I love them muchly. Their interactions with each other tickle me to bits.

Assuming The Troll has always been with VILE (since Shadowsan is aware of his existence), he totally made that bomb icon for the tracker app.

Mime Bomb is super clever honestly, to do the bait and switch like that. He uses Tigress and the cat and the store to make a clean getaway (at least from Carmen) WITH the stamp. The entire sequence of events in this episode is extremely entertaining. There’s so much cool stuff going on, either paralleling a previous episode or something new and fun.

Love the shop owner lol. Takes everything in panicked stride.

Chase and Julia are SO close. (Look at that lack of keycard) I'm amused that Carmen gets to witness part of that. And speaking of this interrogation scene, I do think of the interrogation scene from Detective Pikachu every single time I watch this episode. Then I double over laughing.

ON BASTILLE DAY

And the stamp goes into the lucky coat. I'm always in awe of so many moving parts to this episode that all tie neatly together at the end.

When I first watched this i really thought that Carmen would get there in time but Chase’s coat getting shredded is better because then we get one of the best deliveries of any line in the show. The *cracked sob* of SHE iS VICIOUS AND CRUEL is magical. Please appreciate this with me.

Even VILE makes sure their operatives use a seat belt.

LOOK AT HOW HAPPY ZACK iS. And how he wants to replicate the movie he is absolutely a top notch driver but he is a cinnamon roll. The duality of Carmen’s focus and Zack’s childlike delight makes me so happy. And then when he gets into serious mode LOOK at Carmen. She’s halfway convinced she’s not going to make it lol. Take notes, Carmen does not like not being in control of a situation that makes her uncomfortable. She’ll fall off buildings but when she’s being driven somewhere in a high stress situation she fears for her life.

For the record, I hope team red watches the whole Rogue Vendetta series for movie night.

Also the music in this sequence slaps.

“THIS IS EXACTLY WHY IM NOT INVITING YOU ALONG. I CANNOT BE SLOWED DOWN BY CAUTION WORDS” This man. These writers. Off the wall bonkers great.

“The woman beams herself from a fountain pen she can do anything.” Fhfhfgcff

What car number is this again the ongoing joke is superb.

The amount of upper body strength from both women to climb the bridge.

So cool that it’s all parallel to the exam and Carmen gets to sorta put her nightmares to rest. Just in time to have new nightmares next week! :D

I like how the Cleaners just stand by with their metaphorical popcorn and shine a spotlight. Running theory is that they just like the drama.

She got the phone too! I love this ending. Carmen got validation on her own, she doesn’t need the answer over the coat. Even though she gets it next episode haha. It’s freeing though for her to get some resolution here. She’s not dependent on Shadowsan’s reasoning in preparation for the next episode. It’s the message that she’s continually freeing herself from VILE every day.

Oh boy oh boy I can’t wait for next week. The angst monger in me is SALIVATING.

#carmen sandiego #carmen sandiego netflix #carmen sandiego 2019 #csweekly #carmen sandiego weekly #cs liveblog

17 notes · View notes

tossawary · 1 year

Text

Hi! This is another Fandom Trumps Hate post for people who are thinking about joining up as a creator but aren't sure. I'm not making this one rebloggable because I'm going to talk a little about my personal experiences with fan events in general and FTH in particular over the years (feel free to link a friend to this post, though, if they're on the fence about participating).

About 10 years ago now, when I was very new to online fandom, I didn't know how to feel about fan charity events. Some of them seemed kind of shady (and some fan-run things are shady, let's be real, but FTH's donations go straight to the charities and the mods never touch it). But some of them seemed legitimate, and as I was spending a lot of my free time making fic and art anyway, I thought: didn't I kind of owe my creative skills to a good cause? When I did decide to refrain from joining these events because I knew that I was too busy, I still felt kind of guilty about it.

Now, a little older and a little wiser, I feel pretty confident saying that if you're really not sure or enthusiastic about participating: don't do it. I am personally handing you a "Get Out Of Jail FTH Guilt-Free" card and telling you it's cool if you're too busy. It's seriously fine.

Here's why:

Fan events, whether we're talking about charity auctions or big bangs just for fun, are often pretty significant commitments. Being "required" to write fic, especially being required to follow someone else's prompt can be a very different experience to writing whatever you want for fun. (Not not fun, just different.)

Some people write fanfiction instead of attempting to publish original fiction to become "real writers" because, as they'll talk about on their own blogs, they want to write as a for-fun hobby. Like painting for fun or baking for fun. Just because someone likes making a fancy cake every once and a while doesn't mean that they want to open a catering business, you know? Things can change when you've made a commitment and when there's money on the line, even if that money has gone to charity. There's an added layer of stress.

If you've never written prompt fic on request before, then it's hard to know how you'll find the experience, if you'll find the stress of it a light burden you barely feel or a heavy burden weighing you down every day. Sometimes, you'll end up writing something you're not 100% into. I've had artistic projects (talking mostly about school and work here, not any fan projects) where the idea was fun and I was proud of the end result, but the work itself was kind of grueling because it wasn't what I personally would have chosen to do.

My FTH bidders over the years have always been incredibly cool people who have proposed fun ideas, which I have really enjoyed writing, and they'll often work with you to find a prompt that you love. I have found my FTH projects rewarding experiences. But I'd be lying if I said that when working on a FTH fic, I've never once occasionally thought, "Man, I kind of wish I was working on something else."

You have to be able to resist the allure of your latest plot bunny and finish the current project. If you're really bad at finishing your WIPs or if you're really bad at finishing your WIPs within a time limit (FTH deadline is Dec 31st of the same year), then maybe creating for a fan event just isn't for you. And that's fine!

There's a reason that FTH recommends in their Signup Tips for First-Time FTH Creators post that new creators start with only one offer and to start small. Write a 5k fic, not a 50k one. Draw a single, cartoony drawing, not a 5-page comic in a realistic style. It's a very responsible thing to do to test the waters of an experience before jumping in the deep end.

Part of the stress of these experiences comes from the fact that if you don't fulfill your promise to create for your bidder, you can get banned from future FTH auctions. Big Bangs and Secret Santa events will also ban you (not because of FTH, FTH doesn't blacklist you to anyone or anything). And you don't want to disappoint your bidder! They seemed really cool and you can feel like you're letting them down just if you make them wait too long.

(I promise you that most bidders are pretty chill people. I personally am happy just donating to the charities and I really don't care when/if my creator gets back to me. Their wellbeing is more important to me than a fic or a piece of art.)

If you feel like you won't be able to fulfill an offer in time or if you don't really want to take a prompt from someone else instead of doing your own thing, then it's fine not to make an offer. (Likewise, if you ever have missed creating something for a fan event because real life stuff came up, then it's fine. You're not a bad person. Life gets in the way sometimes. You thought you could at the time. There are other things to participate in when you know you're ready.)

The thing is that creative skills are much, MUCH more valuable than people are putting them on auction for here. If I was charging a minimum wage of $15/hr for my writing skills for what I've done for FTH over the years, I would have made them THOUSANDS. (I doubt I've made them $1000 total.) I participate in FTH usually when I'm feeling at creative loose ends and want to work on prompt fic. I want the collaborative experience of writing something specific for someone else. It's a project that scratches a particular writing itch for me (the stress of a commitment is there, yes, but it's so easy to carry that I barely notice it), which isn't for everyone, and the fact that this event raises some money for charity is kind of just an added bonus.

If someone is donating $25 dollars to charity so that you'll write them a thank-you gift of a 5,000 word one shot that took you at least 10 hours to write, that is NOT a balanced exchange. If we take the $15/hr wage, that is $150 of labor for $25. This is NOT an efficient way to donate to charity. This is a fan event.

Now, some people require a higher minimum bid for their work than I generally do. (Which is good. They are right to do this. I should probably also do this more seriously.) Some people require $100 dollars for a 1k fic. Some people say they'll write 1k words per every $10. There are ways to bring things back into balance and make things more efficient.

So, if you think that a disparity between the amount donated and your donated labor will piss you off, then put serious minimum bid requirements. Your creative skills are valuable. It is okay to enforce boundaries on your donated time and energy so that you don't end up writing 50k of an idea you don't really like for $25, because that sounds like a recipe for resentment. (I keep mostly to myself, so I have never heard of a situation like this with FTH and am just exaggerating to make a point.)

And if people don't bid on your offer? It doesn't mean that your creative skills aren't valuable. It just means that your offer wasn't what someone was looking for at this particular time. (Honestly, as a side note, it's incredible how much the success of a pitch for a book or show or movie depends on just happening to be made to the right people at the right time. I'm serious. It's a very real thing in the entertainment and publishing industries. I have attended talks by people who say that they've had to pass on great pitches specifically because they're looking for a property to sell to 5yo boys that year and already have a property being sold to 10yo girls.)

If you need to pass on participating because you're busy: look after yourself first! Don't end up disappointing your bidder and yourself because you don't have the time or energy to spare. If you can do it, but it means really stressing yourself out and sacrificing other things to find the time: don't do it. Look after yourself. Don't hurt yourself and your creative muscles over a fan event. Breathe. Take a nap. Play some video games. Participate as a bidder if you have the spare money or just advertise the auction if you don't (if you want to). Or just cheer on creators in AO3 comments or with kudos. FTH allows you to make a donation and add it to their count, even if you don't bid or if you don't want to make a bid.

Would you be happy to know that someone was grinding themselves down trying to please you? Don't do that to your bidder. They're your fellow fans, often fellow creators, who just want to chill and donate to charity, and they'd be really upset to hear that you were making yourself miserable because of their donation.

I have never failed to fulfill a FTH offer. I have only participated in fan events when I know I can do it. I have always enjoyed myself. But I work in a creative industry and I have seen a lot of creative people hurt their own passion for something they love or burn out by trying to force themselves to work on things. (I know this sounds very dramatic. I'm not saying you will burn out. You may be totally fine or maybe only lightly stressed at the end. You'll probably be great, honestly. I bet you're a kickass creator. But it's fine to be wary of burn out until you're in a more confident place.) So, to any creative person, especially younger ones, I wanted to write all this out to tell you that it's fine not to do these things. It's not that serious.

Keep fandom a positive space by giving yourself room to breathe and coming back even stronger when you're ready, as a creator, bidder, or just a supporter. If you've already signed up but you want to pull out of FTH before bidding starts because something came up, email the mods. If this extended rambling about burn out has only strengthened your resolve to kick this fan event's ass, then that's awesome! Good for you! I think it's good to reassess your creative energies every now and again, and I think it's fine to say, "Okay, I think I need a break, I don't want to let anyone down," as much as it is to say, "Yeah, I'm pumped up! I'm good to go! Let's do it!"

EDIT: This whole post sounds kind of negative, so to add more positivity: if you really, really want to do it, then I think you should go ahead and join FTH! Just know your limits. It's okay to start small and to set firm boundaries. FTH can be a lot of fun! You can meet cool people! You can feel like you're making a difference! You may end up writing great and rewarding fics that you never would have written otherwise! Plenty of people have joined FTH for the first time feeling really uncertain and had a great time, no regrets.

Don't do FTH just because you feel weirdly obligated to participate because it's for a good cause. Do FTH because you want to do it.

There will be other events.

#ask tossawary #tossawary fth 2023

29 notes · View notes

we-pay-for-everything · 9 months

Text

I'm rewatching Nancy Drew season 1 and I have so many thoughts (surprise, surprise!).

Now that I'm paying attention, Lucy does indeed look pregnant.

Carson is insane this season. He read his daughter's texts?? Fucking creepy.

Idk what the fuck is wrong with Nancy. Suspecting your dad of murder, even if he's shady, is hardcore.

Nick and Nancy were not a great match. He was insecure about Owen and between Nancy being super closed off and prioritizing Lucy's death over Tiffany's, they were never going to last.

I know everyone thought that Nancy was just being stubborn and putting everyone at risk because of her obsession with Lucy, and they had every right to, but she's not to blame for them almost getting killed at that fancy auction party. Nick was acting partially out of jealousy and because George convinced him to, George was acting on her feelings for Nick, Bess wanted to go to a glamorous party and steal stuff, and Ace was being Ace (he wanted to get info for the Chief and also help his friends Ig). Their plan was terrible and they had no right to act like it was Nancy's fault it failed. She told them not to do it and she didn't even know what they were planning. George accused Nancy like it was her fault. I genuinely hate saying this about a woman, but she's really annoying. I hate that she and Nancy are my least favorite characters.

Lisbeth is a weird character. Her storyline didn't have a proper conclusion, and why would an undercover agent ask someone out? And introduce them to her parents?? Her parents lived in the town where she was working undercover? Was she born there lmao. Bess is better with her current girlfriend, though I prefer Odette!

Laura is another weird character. She feels pretty unnecessary.

Bess doesn't make much sense. I know they explained why she went around calling herself a Marvin, but in that small town no one ever called her out on it, really? And did she steal all her designer clothes lmao.

Nancy has a very complicated personality. When she figured out Ace was working for the Chief, he wanted to tell her what he had learned about Laura but she just looked at him in disdain and said "Why should I trust you?". Like, give him a chance? Even if he's lying, his lies might be useful to you. Get off your high horse. That was OOC too, because Nancy usually listens to people when she confronts them. She doesn't just walk away.

Owen has been ruined for me. Now that I know the show's MO, it's hard to care about him. The show doesn't know what to do with its characters. They're all discarded as soon as the season is over.

This season is way worse than I remembered it lmao.

It's amazing how you can get so attached to shows you have a million complaints about.

I've been noticing some Nace parallels: they both suspected their partner of murdering Tiffany, they both discovered a life changing secret (this one is a bit of a reach, but Nancy being adopted and Ace finding out he had a brother, and what those secrets did to their respective families, counts as a parallel), they dated siblings lmao, and they are both great at uncovering stuff (detective and hacker).

Victoria is pretty cool. I wish she showed up more.

Anyway, I'll keep you guys posted on my rewatch! I'm sure I'll have lots more to complain about haha.

#nancy drew #nancy drew cw #cw nancy drew #george fan #ned nickerson #bess marvin #ace nancy drew #ace x nancy #nace #carson drew

11 notes · View notes

galactictwilight · 2 years

Text

Day 4: Box

Warnings: Dark and mentions/implies graphic injures

Summery:

"Is there any other secrets about our family that you, grandma, and dad haven't told me?" Sam questioned as she gave her mother a searching gaze.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Is there any other secrets about our family that you, grandma, and dad haven't told me?" Sam questioned as she gave her mother a searching gaze.

Pamela looked at her daughter with a fragile smile, the sadness from their previous conversion still lingering, but seemed to be slowly draining away as Pamela pondered on the question. She leisurely strode her way back to the lounge and took a seat on the right most side. Pamela patted the open seat next to her with her left hand as a silent invitation, which Sam accepted as she moved to sit with her mother. With her right hand, Pamela delicately lifted a cup of tea, that had long since cooled, off the console table and took a deep sip before answering.

"The only thing that comes to mind is how I actually met your father and why we chose to live in Amity Park." Pamela said, voice still soft, but growing in strength.

"Wait! -So, that gushy story you and dad told me-" Sam began

"Was not the real story, dear." Pamela finished with an abashed smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, before she quickly continued when she noticed her daughters disgruntled expression and opening mouth. "We where going to tell you the truth when you where older-"

"what! When I'm old enough to live on my own!" Sam cut in with a slight harsh edge to her voice. Sam had a frustrated look on her face for a moment, before she took an deep breath and let out a sigh, her eyes closing as she forced herself to calm down. When she opened them to look at her mom and saw the guilty and hesitant look on her face, Sam had to look away as she spoke again to her mother.

"I -Sorry. Just -" a sigh, "Just tell me how you and dad met." Sam finally got out.

Sam hadn't meant to snap at her mom like that, but after all of today's revelations about her family, she is starting to reach her breaking point. It also kind of stung, Sam felt like she never really knew her own mother. When she had first found that dusty old box in the attic and looked at the scrapbook it contained, all Sam had felt was an indigent rage at her mother hypocrisy. But after learning about Samantha and her maternal family, Sam doesn't know what to feel other than tired and sad for her mom's loss.

"It's ok, Sammy, I know that what we are talking about is a lot to take in." Pamela said, as she sent a sad understanding smile to her daughter. Sam didn't respond much beyond leveling her mother with an expecting gaze and a slight nod of her head. Needing no further prompt, Pamela began her story.

"I met your father when I was nineteen. My father had been called by Ganit Manson, your grandfather, about strange things that had been happening to his family for the past few months. They had tried moving to some of their other estates across the country, but the entity that was causing it was following them from house to house, getting more and more bold as time past. By the time Ganit had called, your father's arm was broken, he had multiple bruises and scratches, as well as having so many nightmares he was suffering from sleep deprivation." Pamela paused for a moment to take another sip of her tea to help settle her nerves.

"It was a dybbuk"

Silence rained between the two Manson's following that sentence. Sam stared at her mother for a moment, before the words truly register and her eyes widened in shock.

"How...?" Sam breath out, wide eyes still looking at her mother as a pit began to form in her stomach.

"Your grandfather had bought a dybbuk box at a privet deceased estate auction he was invited to by a family friend. He thought it was just a wine cabinet, and when he had opened it, there hadn't been anything glaringly obvious to point out it's true purpose. My family hadn't discovered this important fact for another month and a half." Pamela paused to take a deep breath and collect herself. The next part of this tale was always hard to talk about.

"The dybbuk... was targeting your father. It wanted to possess him and make him do... terrible thing, before it killed him. We had grown closer as the investigation had gone on and I hated what that thing was doing to him!" Pamela hissed, as her hands tightened into fists startling Sam out of her stupor from the intensity of her mother's ire.

Hesitantly, Sam put her hand on her mothers clenched left fist and leaned into her shoulder to try and offer her mother some emotional support. Pamela's fist quickly lost it's tension and instead turned to hold Sam's offered hand in a gentile, but firm grip. Sam felt her mother lean towards her as she relaxed. Mother and daughter stayed like that for a few moments, before Pamela straightened up and turned to look at Sam with a loving and appreciative smile.

"Thank you, Sammy." Pamela said in a loving tone, eye's filled with gratitude. Pamela breathed in deeply to steady herself before she continued with her tale.

"Now, where was I...Oh, yes! By the time we had found out it was a dybbuk, your father was already under it's power and needed to have it exorcised. It took three weeks of constant prayers and exorcisms before Jeremy was free of that monster. By the end of the investigation almost everyone closely involved had been injured by the dybbuk, but it was the Manson's that needed to be hospitalized.

Your grandfather had internal bleeding as well as a lot of fractured bones, specifically around his chest. Your grandmother had a bookcase dropped on her from behind, which had caused a spinal injure. But poor Jeremy had to be in a full body cast from the way that thing twisted and contorted his body. I did my best to visit him as much as I could until he regained consciousness. And, oh!~ did he say the most romantic thing when he woke up.

He had said 'Oh, Pamela! it was only the thought of being with you that gave me the strength to keep fighting.'. And it was in that instant, I knew, he was the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with." Pamela finished with a happy sigh, eyes aglow with nostalgia as her cheeks dusted a light pink.

A small smile appear on Sam's face at the sight, happy that her mother was somewhat back to her preppy self after seeing her truly miserable for the last few hours. Sure, Sam is probably going to need a lot of time to absorb everything her mom had told her, but that can be dealt with later. Although, privately, Sam thinks her dad was really cheesy when he said that, Romantic, but cheesy.

Wait, Sam thought, Am I forgetting something?

"What was so special about moving to Amity Park?"

#danny phantom #Ectoberhaunt22 #EH order #day 4 #box #Dark #mentions/implies graphic injures

31 notes · View notes

nativehueofresolution · 4 months

Note

hii hi uhm 5, 9, 16, and/or 27 for the ask game?

hiiiii, ty 🧡🧡

5) Do you recommend the show to your IRLs?

sadly i have only one irl friend who likes fantasy/supernatural fiction, and she was the one who recommended it to me 😭. i still talk about it anyways, and my mom did watch one episode to try and understand what i was going on about so much even though she hates horror stuff lol.

9) Have you rewatched the first season?

i've watched the first season like two and half times, which frankly is a low number in my opinion. i paused bc i decided i wanted to read the books and then come back and to see how that shaped my viewing (well, at first i was planning to just read the first book, but then i kept going bc i have no self control rip). it's long series and even skipping some of the crossover books or speed reading some of the barely comprehensible ones like memnoch, i still had to take breaks and read other stuff for my own sanity... which is all to say it did end up taking a while. but i did finish finally and i got the blu-ray as a christmas present, so i definitely plan to do another watch before s2 airs.

16) Do you have a favorite piece of art (book, movie, painting) that’s referenced or featured in the show?

this is so hard, i love all of the references they've done, they're all so well thought out. the first one that springs to mind is i love all the references to the grand guignol with the threatres des vampires. obviously, that's just from the set pics so we don't quite know how it will play out in the show, but i think it's such a cool idea and it gives the troupe a lot more character than was present in the books where not too much time was spent on the plays themselves (sad for me, as a former theater kid). i also love all the artwork, particularly in the the dubai penthouse like "slave auction" or "three studies for figures at the base of a crucifixion" - they add so much character to the dubai scenes even without calling attention to themselves.

27) Do you have an ideal endgame?

i would like for the show to have the planned 7 or so seasons rolin jones and co have referenced as their plan... i know some people are leery of shows that go on that long, and i get it, but i think when a show is strong - something like the sopranos (6 seasons) or mad men (7 seasons) - that length can work really well for the long-form story-telling of tv. (on the other hand, i shudder to think about what fandom will look like at that point slfljf. but going purely off of the merits of the show i think it could be great.)

plot-wise... not really? the book series really peters out and has an anti-climatic ending, so i'm not sure exactly what you could rework to make a satisfying conclusion. there are some elements of the prince lestat era i enjoyed (i adored fareed and seth, i'm hopeful they will have more to do with the tv series since they brought fareed in so early), but the actual plot of like creating a vampire aristocracy and lestat being in charge was so goofy and nonsensical idk how you'd make that into a compelling storyline... so i really think it'd have to be pretty much all original material (maybe we find something more interesting for amel than aliens). but after 7 seasons idk where the characters would even be emotionally and all that so it's hard for me to think of what new endings might be fitting. so i'm pretty open to the possibilities, i think! i do think tonally something more bittersweet or ambiguous that the happily ever after anne rice tried to go with would be more fitting.

#ask game replies #diasdelasombra #iwtv

2 notes · View notes

raitrolling · 4 months

Text

its time for the yearly 12th perigee present post (yeah i know its still christmas eve in other timezones im Impatient)

nancor gifted gliese some sunflowers in a cool gothic-style vase since he thought she'd appreciate the contrast, as well as some dark chocolate

dismas gifted maidel a really rare and difficult to find video game that she mentioned wanting to play once. he may have also blackmailed everyone who tried to bid on it on the online auction website he found it on to ensure that he was able to get it at a good price

callan gifted gerrel those clawed gardening gloves because he thought they were funny and also useful (and the pair he bought are in his shade of green, the most fashionable colour out there of course), and some seed packets so he can grow all the veggies he needs to put on a pizza. which callan totally doesn't want to taste test

ashell gifted cheran a couple books, as well as a set of inks and brushes that he thought cheran could use for his anatomical sketches (which he bought from jikiro's company lmao). he gifted jikiro a little hamper filled with different types of berries and some fancy glass jars because he read that they can be used to make ink as well as be eaten, as well as a box of chocolate truffles and a cute tanuki print stationery set because he got anxious that his initial gift idea wasn't good enough lmao

velour made jamie a couple button-up shirts, one covered in subtle star patterns that show off different constellations, and another that has an embroidered kookaburra peeking out of the shirt pocket. he also made a couple bow ties as well, which he says when he's feeling better he'll enchant so the fabric is a bit more interesting. he also made socks and gloves for jikiro and kana, ji's pair being black with classy striped accents in all his quadrant's colours, while kana's pair are patterned to look like tanuki paws

mikiel was a bit unoriginal and gifted both lyvere and thrixe cookbooks, but he did make sure to buy them books based on whatever cuisine they're currently most interested in

lusien gifted anirus a really nice and expensive bottle of scotch (the kind that you only want to drink on special occasions) as well as a fresh batch of homemade jams and preserved foods they can keep on their ship without worrying about them spoiling too quickly

sharle gifted jamie books on how to speak italian, french, and monegasque (remarking that it took him hours to find the last one) since he knows that jamie was trying to learn those languages. he also gifted tira a limited edition snapback (because he collects them), gave quinne a fishing rod (because she mentioned that she likes catching fish but didn't own a rod), and ropikk a bottle of very expensive perfume (because he googled 'gifts for women')

viltau gifted jikiro some custom-tailored silk pyjamas decorated with a regal japanese maple design, a matching silk robe, and would treat him to a candlelit dinner... provided that ji can solve the scavenger hunt vil has prepared for him first. kitaer also gets send on a scavenger hunt, but his reward is the bodies belonging to the perpetrators of a crime kitaer was trying to solve. and also a traditional 12th perigee pudding and some homemade mince pies, because he is capable of catering to his kismesis' lack of a sweet tooth sometimes. viltau's employees also got a big bonus of extra cash and some gift cards

glasya gifted mikail another new plant for his apartment, and will take him out on a trip to the beach so they can go look at the rock pools together and then get a nice dinner at a beachfront restaurant. they also made bags of candies for all their friends using thematically appropriate candy moulds

vallis gifted epsilo a life-sized moray eel plushie, while zanzul and tuuya were gifted starfish and sea snail plushies respectively

linnae went out and picked some pretty wildflowers and ingredients to make potions with for arctus, and also gave a couple wildflowers to his other friends as well

everyone else also gave gifts to their quadrants / close friends but i couldn't think of something specific because i'm braindead. imagine a really cool gift here for every ship (romantic or platonic) i missed

#ooc #spring and a storm #null and void #the prince and the pauper #lonely too long #dearly departed #starstruck #served ice cold #icebreaker #guiding you home #sharle and jamie #flying lap #dressed to impress #kittau #mixed messages #in too deep

3 notes · View notes

fruitchouli · 1 year

Note

apologies if this has been asked before which im sure it has but i am so curious - when did u first develop an interest in fragrances and where on earth did you start with purchasing them? did u make do with samples in the beginning? i have no idea where to begin! this world can be a bit overwhelming at times. ty and have a lovely morning.

i got into perfume with my friend in college! luckily at the time i lived near quite a few big department stores with bountiful perfume departments so i was always there sniffing and bothering the employees for samples.. and i would always ask for samples at sephora.. i can’t tell u how many weekends i was there asking for them to make me another sample of gucci rush… i was in school for fashion and i found fragrance really scratched a lot of my itches.. i loved the history of it and how powerful a tool of personal expression it can be.. like isabella adjani said changing ur perfume can be more powerful than changing ur hair.. and i loved people like katie puckrik on youtube who made fragrance this dreamy intellectual artsy eccentric cool world.. i wanna be just like her when i grow up. i only bought fragrances from ebay then, i would scour the auctions and find random ones for cheap that i didn’t know anything about. but i never had many fragrances until years later. i remember when i placed my first fragrancenet order i thought i was so freaking cool like omg i just spent 50 dollars on a tester bottle like no one can come close to me 💯💯💰😤🤚

29 notes · View notes

colorsunimaginable · 1 year

Text

the spare // chapter forty-nine // death eater ! tom hiddleston oc x plus size ofc - a voldemort wins au

story summary:

*a Voldemort Wins AU with Tom Hiddleston cast as an OC x a plus size protagonist* *takes place in The Auction universe by Lovesbitca8*

words for this chapter: 2.2k warnings for this chapter: none

CHAPTER MASTERLIST

Chapter Forty-Nine:

Narcissa isn’t exactly thrilled that I’d thrown an explosive potion into her pond. I got a very stern “Don’t ever do that again” before she enlisted Hermione to help me find a proper disposal method.

So we hole up in the library. I’m trying to hunt down an explosion containment spell to potentially enchant a box. Hermione is going off my list of ingredients and procedures.

“After you meddle the Eye of Newt, you add a crushed and dried Flitterby?” she asks, glancing up from the written list I provided.

“Yup,” I say, my eyes scanning the index of a book about common enchanted household items. “Then I grind that fucker down until the consistency is that of a thick jelly.”

“Doesn’t wetting the dried Flitterby reactivate its acidic qualities?”

I pause. “Uh, yeah. The acidity reacts with the Willow root that gets added at the end. The acidity is what reveals the image in the film.”

She frowns and tilts her head. “And you still add bursting mushroom powder? Isn’t that what’s making it explode?”

“Actually no,” I say and close my book with my finger acting as a bookmark. “Despite its name, it’s actually what’s keeping the explosion from happening the moment the potion cools. It acts as a temporary neutralizer.”

“How temporary is temporary?”

I shrug. “Depends on how much of it I add. No matter how much, it’s still not a permanent solution.”

“Have you tried adding something to neutralize the acidity after the potion has cooled?”

“Like what?”

“Well,” she sighs, leaning back in her chair. She shoves her thick hair behind an ear and taps her quill on the parchment roll on the table. “This might sound silly, but have you tried baking soda? It neutralizes acids.”

“No, but I could try.”

~*~

Since we were just testing her theory, I made the smallest batch possible with a short waiting time. Once the potion cools, I add the baking soda, and we anxiously await for the scheduled fifteen minutes to be over.

I keep my eyes on the cauldron, looking for the telltale signs of its impending explosion, but amazingly, it doesn’t. Even when the fifteen minutes were up.

I laugh incredulously. “Hermione, where were you when I blew up our photography room in fifth year?”

She smiles, too, and it feels good to see her face light up. “Probably fixing Harry or Ron’s homework.”

A beat passes and both of our smiles fade. By the look on her face I can tell she’s remembering, too.

I sigh and shake off my feelings, tossing the memories back into their vault where they belong. Since I have my magic, Occlumency has been metaphorically turned back on. I keep the memories of my travels with the trio inside the tent where we’d spent most of our time together. When I lock the memories away, I’m not forgetting them, I’m just putting them in a place where they won’t hurt me. Where I won’t be overwhelmed by longing or hurt just by the mere thought of them.

I nod to their strips of film still hanging from the string. “Those should be plenty dry enough to show them to Narcissa. Do you think she’ll be cooled off by now?”

Hermione shrugs as her lips twist sympathetically. “I’m not sure,” she says. “I don’t think she was really mad at you, though.”

“Still,” I sigh, unclipping the film. “I feel bad.”

~*~

“Oh my,” Narcissa says, clutching a hand to her chest as she examines the film against candle light. “Wasn’t he adorable as a baby?”

I give a non-committal nod and peer at them over her shoulder. “So that’s his mom?”

“Yes,” she replies. “As you can see it’s where the dark hair comes from. You’d hardly find a Selwyn without it. Oh, look there’s Abraxas. I’d forgotten what he looked like back then.”

She shows me a frame with Thomus and Abraxas standing on a busy train platform. Steam from the train billows behind them as they smile at the camera, ignoring the rest of the din. Thomus is dressed in his Hogwarts uniform.

The closer I look, the more I think Thomus’ smile looks forced. The hand on his shoulder is tight, pulling him towards his father awkwardly. A silent plea hides in his eyes as he looks at whoever is behind the camera.

“When did his mom leave?” I ask.

“She might’ve left the year after that photo was taken,” she says. “I’m not quite sure.”

“Were they close?”

She looks at me then, sitting back in her reading chair. “I know that her leaving greatly affected him.”

“It makes me feel bad for him,” I murmur. “I don’t know if he really got closure… but then, do any of us?”

The memory of Sam climbing out of the grave finds its way to the forefront of my mind.

Well, I definitely haven’t gotten closure.

I stand. “I think I’m gonna go take a walk before dinner.”

~*~

I walk to the clearing, plopping down onto my back in the grass.

All these things about Thomus, everything I learn is further blurring whatever sort of line I had drawn. Being attracted to him is one thing, but this? Learning about his past and how maybe if his mom had never left, maybe we’d be fighting on the same side. Maybe I wouldn’t have to feel so guilty for caring about him.

Somewhere in my ponderings about Thomus that question that I keep locked up in the mausoleum has escaped.

Why did he buy me?

I close my eyes against the late afternoon sun and Occlude, sweeping up every thought and feeling about him until I dump the dustpan full of memories behind the gates.

When my head’s finally empty, songs akin to elevator music starts to play, filling the new space. So I sit up, ready to mosey on back to the Manor, when my eyes catch the fleeting glimmer of a human form. I blink rapidly, letting my eyes focus on the spot.

A disembodied chuckle comes before I can cast Homenum Revelio. “I was waiting for you to take a fucking look around.” Kyle disarms his Disillusionment spell and casts the Muffliato charm. Then he looks at me. “How’re the potions going?”

“They’re going,” I sigh. “The second one did some funky things, so I’ve been avoiding taking the next.”

“So you’ve already beat the first one?” he asks, his expression alight with curiosity.

“Yup.”

He puts his hand in his pocket. “Would you be willing to take it again? Right now?”

“Why?” I ask, getting to my feet to grab the vial he holds out.

“Do you remember that spell Rabastan Lestrange used on you at Jacob Astor’s house?”

“I think so,” I say, sitting back down. “Electrocumvis?”

He crouches, elbows on his knees. “There’s a theory that electricity can break through no-magic barriers. Recorded cases are mostly in rural areas of the US, where the last dregs of the Scourers huddled in with their No-Majes and wanted magic to be kept out. There was a small town in Georgia that had an electrical panel short-circuit along the town border. A year later, a town who’d never had a magical kid before, suddenly had a dozen kids with magic.”

I look at him skeptically. “So you want to see if me trying to produce electricity will… turn off the effects of the potion?”

“I know it sounds far-fetched, but yeah.”

I pull out the stopper for the vial. “I guess it’s worth a shot.”

I chug the contents of the potion and feel all of my hard work disappearing, fading, smothering. I toss the empty vial at him before closing my eyes to concentrate.

~*~

I stay out there for a lot longer than I should have, but fuck if I’m not determined. Kyle is of no help. He’s just hanging out, watching me. Watching me struggle is closer to the truth.

I’d never overcome a suppression potion in one day before, let alone mere hours. It feels like trying to start a car with a dead battery. I need a jump, but I’m not sure what to use for it.

Why did he buy me?

The question flutters about, untethered and unrestrained now that I have no magic. But I don’t need magic to latch onto the question. I don’t need magic to let it consume my thoughts and make my chest ache with unwanted emotion.

Upon my final utterance of the spell, my fingers tingle where they’re touching the ground. Static snaps and pops coming from my skin make me focus on the spell even more. The question fuels the power behind my concentration and the familiar electrical hum from the fence now floods my ears.

I open my eyes to see the bright, white-blue light of electrical waves circling me, it’s point of origin my hands against the ground. It charrs and blackens the grass it touches. I feel the hair on my arms and the back of my neck stand on end. With a grin, I look up at Kyle to see his reaction, but immediately stop the spell when I see he’s not there.

“I see Narcissa didn’t give you the suppression potion like I instructed,” Thomus says, and I whip around with a gasp. He’s got his foot on a log, one hand on his hip. Was I so focused I didn’t hear him? Holy fuck, he’s here.

My eyes jump back to where Kyle had been and my pulse quickens when I realize I can see the outline of his Disillusionment charm.

“It’s rude to sneak up on someone like that, you know,” I snap, flustered.

His eyebrows shoot up. “Me? Rude? How could you ever think such a thing.”

“It’s pretty easy.” I turn my back to the fence, legs criss-crossed, facing Thomus. “Do you have my rock?”

His tongue peeks out the corner of his mouth, jaw rolling while he lets out a huff. His eyes travel down and he steps over the log, slipping his hand into his pocket as he walks toward me. But he pauses when his eyes jump to something beyond the fence. I hold my hand out, pretending like I didn’t hear a particularly loud rustle of leaves. Goddammit, Kyle.

When Thomus doesn’t move, his eyes searching, I obnoxiously clear my throat. His gaze finally focuses on me again and a hint of a smile curves his mouth. He strides the rest of the distance and drops the rock in my waiting palm.

“Thank you,” I chirp, immediately bringing it to eye level to inspect it for damage.

He sits down next to me, facing the fence. “I can assure you it was in safe hands. Shouldn’t be a scratch on it.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, thank you,” I tease, unable to help myself.

He fiddles with his wand where it dangles from his hands, elbows on his propped up knees. “Mostly just used it as a paper weight.”

The tone of his voice makes me look up at him. “How was Italy?” I ask. “You look… tired.”

His lips tilt up again. “That’s because I didn’t get much sleep.”

“Pretty Italian women keeping you up at all hours of the night?” I tease.

Thomus takes a deep breath, but he doesn’t answer me. His eyes go from me to the fence again, his focus sharp. I get the sense that Thomus knows how to detect the Disillusionment charm too. It would make sense after all, being a tracker. The grip on his wand goes from loose to tight as his eyes narrow, still staring at the fence.

I do the first thing that comes to mind. I scooch closer to Thomus until my thigh touches his hip, while my right hand reaches out to grab his jaw. I lean forward, smashing my lips against his.

Whatever I was hoping his reaction would be, is not what I get.

I feel his whole body stiffen from where it touched mine as I lean over him. His lips don’t move against mine, even when I trace my tongue along his bottom lip. After a moment, I take the hint and pull back completely. There’s anger in his eyes.

I force a smile. “What, I can’t kiss you?”

His eyes are cold when he says, “I’d prefer it if you didn’t.”

When I swallow down my hurt, it’s audible, and makes me cringe. I focus on deep, even breaths.

“Is this what you meant, from before you left, when you said nothing’s changed?” I ask softly.

“I’d think that were obvious,” he states dryly.

“So you’re back not two seconds and you’re already being an asshole?” I say as I blink away unshed tears and get to my feet.

He stands, angry as well. “That night was a terrible lack of judgement.”

“Oh, and has time away from me allowed you to clear your head?”

“Yes,” he snaps without missing a beat.

I can’t even look at him. I keep my face down and away, eyes on the scorched earth beneath our feet.

I sigh. “You know, for a little bit, I almost thought that I somehow, miraculously, missed you.” When I look at him, my expression is full of sadness and spite, while his is furrowed brow and pursed lips at my words. I hear my voice crack.

“But you’ve just fucked all that up.”

I push past him and head back for the Manor, not caring if he follows.

~*~

Comments, likes, and reblogs are always appreciated 💕 Thanks for reading!

18 notes · View notes