#[[ she'll keep sassing him back WATCH HER ]]

[countlessrealities]

"Not to steal Alastor's lines, but...wooooow, poetry. Maybe I should add lessons on how to talk to your in-resident package."

{ @creationtainted }

[pennotfound]

I was so inspired by this edited pic by @mavcancees that I came up with a lovely little HC that I want to share with you all

(thank you mav! Love you! 🥰)

"Thanks!" the girl waved after snapping the selfies she'd asked for - three with Dream and one with Sapnap. As she walked away, she leaned towards one of her friends, whispering and giggling something he couldn't hear. Probably about how she couldn't believe she'd meet the Dream.

"I dunno," Sapnap slapped a hand on his shoulder as if reading his thoughts. "Somethin' 'bout her felt off to me."

"Because she only wanted one picture with you?" Dream sassed, swaying to the beat of the music. His drink from earlier created a fun little buzz in his veins. It was really good too - he kind of wanted another one, if he could remember what it was called. He thought about asking Sapnap but dude was even more buzzed than he was. Dream would go so far as to say Sapnap was drunk. Plastered even.

Hmm... maybe George knew.

Where was George, anyway?

"You're an idiot," Sapnap gave him a light shove. "Jus' watch, she'll be like, a fucking dranti or som'thin."

Dream rolled his eyes, pushing the thought away. If she was a 'dranti' as Sapnap said, what was she going to do, post pictures of herself smiling with him?

Ooh, scary.

"Hey, Dream," a familiar voice caught his attention and his cheeks warmed as George carefully pushed through the crowd towards him, holding what looked like a tall glass full of ice water.

Or vodka. Who knew?

"George!" Dream called back, not bothering to do anything to keep the softness from his voice as George drew nearer. "Where were you?"

"At the bar getting a glass of water like the good designated driver I am." George handed the glass to him. "Even got extra ice for you."

Dream smiled when he looked down and saw the large amount of nugget ice inside the glass. George was so sweet. The best friend ever.

No... Best boyfriend ever.

The crowd here would never know, though. As far as they were concerned, Dream was just here with his two buddies to unwind after a busy week. They definitely didn't know about the kiss Dream and George shared in the bathroom earlier. The one that nearly escalated to so much more, and would have if George had been able to click that lock shut before someone pushed on it from the other side.

Thankfully the shock was enough to calm both of them down before they walked back out into the bar, George whispering a promise to pick up where they left off when they got home. Except right now, with George so close, Dream didn't know if he'd make it home.

Maybe he could get Sapnap an Uber. Then Dream could take George to his new car, to properly christen the back seat.

"Dream."

He cleared his throat, looking down at George and his adorable smile and boba eyes and shiny nose and...

"Dream," fingers snapped in front of his face and he blinked rapidly.

"Yeah?" he accepted the glass and took a small sip. Definitely water. Tap water. Not filtered but it was okay. It felt good going down his throat. "What's up?"

"That girl," George thumbed over his shoulder, then poked Dream gently in the chest. "That's what's up."

"Oooh, is someone jea-wous?" Dream smirked back, pressing his own finger into George's chest.

"Am not," George crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. "But when was the last time you took a selfie of the two of us? If you're going to be taking selfies with fans, then you need to give me one too. For balance."

"Balance?" Dream replied. "What are we on star wars or something? Oh no we need to bring balance in the force! George, you're my only hope!" he added with a high pitched voice, then started laughing.

"'S not funny," George narrowed his eyes, but couldn't keep the soft, endearing smile off his face. "I want a selfie. Now."

"Idiot," Dream countered, a softness to the edge of his voice. "You get selfies every day. We can take one tomorrow, in the fusion room. Use it to tease the next vid!"

"But the lighting is better here," George argued. "It's all pink and purpley. And we look good in pink and purple light. Like that time we went out after the hurricane, remember?"

"Oh, I remember," Dream leaned closer to whisper in George's ear. "And I remember what we did that night when we got back to the hotel. We had fun that night, didn't we?"

"Dream!" George, pulled away, eyes wide and face flushed. Or maybe it was just the lighting. "You're trying to distract me again!"

"And is it working?" Dream leaned even closer, his lips brushing against the shell of George's ear. To anyone looking in their direction, it would look innocent enough, but Dream knew the truth.

He knew that George was one breath away from dragging him out to his car to finish what they'd started earlier.

"N-no," George pushed against Dream's chest, then took the water away from him. "No, Dream. We're taking a selfie, and if you don't then I'm not giving this water and ice back to you. And I'm definitely not giving you what you want when we leave."

Ok. Maybe Dream was wrong.

He stared at George for a moment, hoping that maybe staring George down would weaken the man's resolve a bit.

It didn't.

"Ugh, fine, you win," Dream relented. "Whose phone? Mine or yours?"

"How about mine?" George offered, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "That way I don't have to worry about you sneaking a kiss and posting it to Snapchat like you did over two years ago."

"But that was fun," Dream giggled, then nudged him in the side. "Kiss gate, that's what the fans call it. If only they knew, huh Georgie?"

"Whatever. Just stand here," George got his phone ready, and after Dream slid up beside him and pressed their cheeks together, reached his phone out to take a few pictures.

"Are you done yet?" Dream whined, his patience running thin.

"I think so," George flipped through the pictures. "A lot of them are cut off, but this one looks good." He held out his phone and Dream smiled. Part of George's face was still cut off, but the part in frame had his signature grin.

It was soft. It was incredibly sweet.

It was perfect.

"Yeah," Dream agreed. "So can we leave now?"

"Not yet."

Dream's shoulders sagged. "What do you mean, not yet?"

"Finish your water first like a good boy and then we can go," George patted him on the cheek, then scrambled to reach for Dream as he started to chug it. "And don't drink it too fast or you'll get -"

"Aaaah!" Dream pinched his forehead.

"Tongue on the roof of your mouth," George directed him. "Idiot."

Dream did as he was told, sighing when the brain freeze went away and reluctantly taking smaller sips of ice water. "This better be worth it," he gave George a sideways glance, tapping his thigh with his free hand to the beat of the music.

"Oh, it will," George replied, his smile wide and so contagious as he reached to take Dream's hand in his own. "It definitely will."

[mikareo]

megumi doing smth pls

⌗ THIRTEEN YEARS ₊ ˖ ་. megumi fushiguro x fem reader (2.6k)

⊹ ⠀⠀ 3 times megumi wants to tell you he loves you, and the 1 time he does.

contains; attack on titan au, marleyan!megumi, eldian!reader, aot spoilers!!! (season 4), forbidden lovers, fluff, angst, kissing, major character death, cannabalism? (titans), annie cameo! author's note; here u get an old draft (psa none of this will make sense if you haven't watched attack on titan!!!!)

i. what is love at first sight

it's almost human instinct; knowing which people are more likely to have good fortune. some are simply born with an advantage— these people having the freedom to walk along the river bank, skip flattened rocks down streams, and laugh with their peers. with families who shop in the market together, hand-in-hand with woven baskets strewn over their shoulders, and all the time in the world to live their lives to the absolute fullest as true freelancers facing the rising sun that sees tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that.

but in the truth of it all...the sun doesn't shine on everyone.

there are countless amounts of souls who aren't as blessed as marleyans like megumi. souls entangled with the devil herself, ymir, a woman who singlehandedly birthed the 'race from hell'...which he's never fully agreed with. everyone he knows refers to eldians as humanity's sin, but it's not their fault their biology is simply different.

humans are humans, right? they've done no wrong by being born. especially the warrior candidate he's been staring at for the past hour from a distance. you can't be that bad. after all, you're beautiful.

okay, yes. he has a little crush. he can't help it! one day, he was minding his own business on a walk home from the lab, when gojo had the bright idea of sneaking a peak at the warrior training. that's when megumi first saw you and his world stopped. sure, you were covered in mud and crawling through trenches with a rifle strapped to your back; but that didn't make him any less awestruck. since then he's hidden himself in the same bush, week after week, just to get a glimpse of your face.

"she's a cutie. you've got good taste." okay, creepy.

megumi rolls his eyes, glancing up at his mentor who's the only person who knows of his little secret. "don't you have women to harass?"

"ouch, sassed by a ten year old. i see how it is." gojo chuckles, ruffling his black hair and crouching down to the younger boy's level. "you see her out there? she's killing it. i heard she's the top contender for the female."

"i hope so." his blue eyes are locked on you, watching as your focused expression turns to determination whilst helping your teammate off the ground. "she'll have a better chance of living that way."

"...and maybe your family will let you meet her."

ugh, his family. since he was six, the zenin's have raised him with their questionable values and ideals. as the leading researchers in the modern world, they've revolutionized how eldians are studied! at least that's what he's been told. to be frank, he doesn't care about the right or wrong battle they've propagandized to the rest of humanity. all he cares about is knowing your name and telling you how pretty your eyes are.

"i want to talk to her, at least once." his voice is quiet, but gojo hears.

"why? you wanna tell her you love her?"

he hates him so much.

"no!" megumi exclaims, pushing back the older man in defense. his cheeks are bright red from embarrassment and he can feel the flames emitting from them. "i just want to be her friend, that's all. why do you always make things so weird?"

it's amusing to gojo how his little friend is so flustered. usually megumi is a shy boy, keeping to himself and avoiding contact with his peers; but whenever the conversation topic is you, he seems to perk up...and gojo loves to tease a lovestruck kid.

"don't worry," he smirks, "you'll understand your feelings when you're older. you don't need to tell her quite yet that you love her."

love you?

"just shut up and let me watch." megumi grumbles, resting his head in his hands as you're jumping up and down after being praised by your captain. he wishes he could make you that happy one day. "it's not love, i'm serious."

he'll understand what love means when he gets older. for now, he'll just imagine confessing.

ii. what is love that is forbidden

you're a lot more annoying than he thought you'd be.

after having been selected as the new female titan, your ego is boasting with energy and won't stop boasting no matter how often megumi tells you to zip it. though he was excited to meet you, his thirteen year old self now wishes you'd give him a moment of peace. instead, you insist on following him around whenever and wherever you can and yapping his ear off with comments on everyone and everything about your day. please, just give him a break.

"uh, fushiguro..."

he sighs with exhaustion. "what?"

"i think i locked us in here."

dammit.

"you forgot the key?" he asks.

"i forgot the key." you confirm.

of course you did.

with an exhausted grumble, megumi settles himself on the cold, cement floor of the supply closet you'll both call home for the next few hours. it's both of your days off, but he'd wanted to prep his supplies for his training on monday; to which you, of course, invited yourself along for the ride. you'll stay out of the way. it's fine, he can just ignore you. that's what he told himself...though, it's impossible for him to ignore you.

it's likely that no one will visit the storage room until the evening time— with most of his colleagues at home with their families, cooking a warm meal with lamb and stew. it's also uncommon for any of the researchers to be in liberio on their off days. megumi's just the special kind that doesn't think he'll be plagued by breathing the same air as eldians.

"mind if i join you?" he knows you're asking a rhetorical question and you know he'd never reject you.

with a small plop, you take a seat next to him. he's used to your warmth by now— considering you to be an essential part of his every day, despite how much he enjoys complaining about you— and leans his head against yours. it's obvious that you're sleepy. though, you never indulge in conversations about your training, megumi is well aware of how overworked you are. he can't imagine fighting in wars at this age, especially wars in which you're fourteen meters tall and smashing through brick walls; which is why he tries his best to be there for you when you need him.

your life is a battlefield and he's the peaceful conclusion.

"you know..." the sound of your voice is faint, a great contrast to your usual noise and megumi can tell something is wrong. "when they find us here, they're going to think i kidnapped you."

"i mean what else would the zenin heir be doing with a titan shifter?" you start to choke on your words and he instinctively wraps his arms around you. "you don't need to comfort me, fushiguro. we both know i'm going to be punished after this. you can't apologize and make everything okay like usual."

to your surprise, his pointer finger touches your cheek and gently wipes away your running tears. "...fushiguro—"

"it won't always be like this." he interrupts you, cupping your face as if you're a rare gem that he can't afford breaking. "when i'm in charge, i'm going to change things. you won't have to do this anymore. i won't let them do this to you anymore!"

the two of you are a mess on the floor, crying in each others arms, and wishing that the world was a better place. "you still have thirteen years left. please...please keep fighting for me. i promise i'm going to save you."

"fushiguro..."

"call me by my first name."

"...megumi."

you're beautiful. he wants to kiss you so badly, but he knows now isn't the time. he wants to hold your hand in public, but he knows you'll be berated for doing so. he wants to tell you he loves you, but he's too afraid.

megumi fushiguro is a coward.

...but he's a coward in love; and one day, when he's taller and stronger, he's going to be able to tell you that. he's going to be able to protect you.

iii. what is love that is hopeless

"hold still." megumi's voice is soft, his fingers of the same gentle malice as they tend to your open wounds that haven't quite healed yet. with titan steam wafting from the slashes scattering your forearms and shoulders, they blow into his face in a fury of pain. "dammit, i said hold still."

his brings both arms down to your shoulders, heart breaking at the sight of you wincing in retaliation to his force, but carries on. there's no telling what you would've gotten yourself into if he hadn't insisted he care for your wounds; after making it publicly known that he's to be the only researcher allowed within your vicinity after your tireless warrior missions, none of the other researchers even attempt to get near you. he hates how often you put yourself in harms way in order to save your comrades. you're too brave. you've never been just a warrior of marley, but more or less a warrior of all people.

"i've been sitting here for an hour already, megumi." you roll your eyes, swinging your legs over the metal rims and turning to face your very pissed off best friend. "i'm tired and i'd like to get at least an hour of sleep tonight."

his expression is somewhat terrifying. if you didn't know megumi was such a scaredy cat, you'd be intimidated by his reddened cheeks and eyes of fury. it's almost as if he's an inflamed torch held against fluorescent lighting, pasty and saturated in fear and exhaustion. "i need to make sure you're okay."

"well, i have another plane to catch at dawn," you deflect his concerns. "there's some issue i was assigned to when i landed this morning. i guess one of our enemies isn't afraid of titans yet."

"you're not going."

he's firm in his statement. megumi doesn't like how his colleagues take advantage of you and your abilities. they're working you to skin and bones. if they were the ones checking up on you after every battle they'd know so, but they wouldn't treat you with as much care. his only wish in the world is to keep you safe, which he's doing an awful job at as of yet. "i don't want you getting more hurt than you already are."

"as if it matters." you scoff, leaning towards him in an attempt to get him to back off. "i'll just give 'em a little taste of my titan and they'll run away like mice. it's easy, 'gumi. trust me—"

"life isn't a game!" he's furious.

"well mine is!" you're angry as well.

why don't you get it? why can't you just run away with him?

"i only have four years left! four years, megumi! i don't care if i die tomorrow or the day after that or the day after that. i'm going to either way. you don't have that problem. you don't understand."

without warning, his lips are on yours in his best attempt to stop you from spouting all of his fears and worries from your mouth. he doesn't want to hear it. he just wants to pretend none of it is happening, and you're going to be okay. you are going to be okay. he'll make sure of it.

it takes a moment for you to respond until your intertwined in a feverish kiss that sends his medical supplies clanging to the floor— but megumi doesn't care about order, all he cares about now is being as close to you as possible. he's dreamt of this moment for years. what you taste like...feel like...sound like. he knows you're his soulmate. what he doesn't know is why it's taken him so long to kiss you.

but before your connection can move forward and become something more, your touch is gone.

"i'm sorry, i can't do this." there are tears creeping from the corners of your beautiful eyes. "i—"

he calls out your name as your figure dashes out the door, wishing that he was able to confess. he wants to tell you he loves you so badly; except he doesn't have the bravery he needs. with four more years left, megumi has two things on his agenda.

1.) find a way to save you.

2.) tell you he's yours forever.

iv. what is love everlasting

he's finally become a monster like the rest of them.

from the first time he saw you, he told himself he'd be your savior. he made countless promises that he'd find a way for eldians and marleyans to live in peace, that he'd find a way to save you from this shitty war; only to be the very person to lock you in chains, awaiting imminent death as the next female titan will be born.

megumi wanted to be brave. he wanted to stop being such a coward, but some people just aren't capable of changing so much— and what a disappointment that is.

"hey, fushiguro?" when did you stop calling him by his first name? "can you keep a secret?"

he's not supposed to be civil with you. his orders are to chain you up, inject the child, and watch as she devours you; but you're his weakness. he can't resist you. "of course i can."

a smile graces your lips. it's not a smile of happiness or joy...it's one of anguish and pain. "i wish i ran away with you. i should've run away with you. even though we only had four years, we could've been happy."

why are you saying all of this?

now of all times?

you should've told him years ago! you should've let him know your secrets before he let them change him! before he distanced himself from you and became distracted with his work!

"...megumi..."

"yes?" he's desperate to hear you.

"...i don't want to die."

a thought crosses his mind. it's a scene in which two main characters beat all odds and escape the chains and prisons they've faced, running off into the sunset, never to be seen again. this scene has a happy ending, one where there's a small and intimate wedding with no witnesses except the meadow's flowers. he lifts your veil away from your eyes and murmurs sweet nothings as you kiss him to start off your forever. his heart wants that to be true. he wants that to be true. it's too late, though. you have no time left. your thirteen years is up. his thirteen years of knowing you is up. it's time to say goodbye.

"i can't save you." he's struggling to get his words out while maintaining his composure; and your heart breaks as his promise does as well. "i'm sorry."

he's a monster.

you hang your head, nodding and accepting your fate as he makes his way down the stairs. seeing you like that, knowing what your fate is, almost causes megumi to pass out from lightheadedness. he knows he shouldn't be worrying about himself. after all, you're the one who's about to die. he has a whole lifetime to continue living, and your lifetime was a mere twenty-six years.

gently, he takes the newest warriors hands and tells her what he's about to do. the blonde girl nods along to his words, trying her best to ignore your radiating hopelessness as she's about to become the next you; and megumi injects his needle into her neck.

he wants to look away so badly as she grows into a pure titan with eyes locked on your frail body, but he doesn't want it to end like this. there's gotta be something that he can do to help you. anything to save you from this fate; but to no avail, he's powerless. so powerless that the only thing he manages to do is mouth three seemingly meaningless words as he locks eyes with you.

"i love you."

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⊹₊｡ reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚₊⊹

[lunarflux]

x: Thomas Shelby found his match in an information bookie who has eluded the grasp of the Peaky Blinders long enough to crumble their power over Birmingham. But at last, he found you. The ghost he'd been chasing was finally in front of him, but you were trickier than he expected. Dangerous, cunning - and a bit too much like himself. To buy your loyalty, he would have to sell his in equal measure. Loyalty for loyalty - blood for blood - how much were either of you willing to spill before the game changed entirely?

part 17: and so the game is set

word count: 2,465 tag: @bruhidkjustwannaread | @rubyxx16 | @bellabarnes1378 | @johnmurphys-sass

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

The haze of cigarette smoke hung in the air as the Shelby family gathered around the table. John paced, his boots scuffing the wooden floor with each sharp turn, while Arthur leaned against the wall, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. Finn sat at the table, fidgeting with his lighter, his usually easy-going demeanor replaced with nervous energy. Michael quietly swirled a glass of whiskey in the corner. Polly, ever composed, stood near Tommy, her sharp eyes flicking over the room.

Tommy sat at the head of the table, his expression cold, unreadable, a cigarette dangling between his fingers. He hadn’t spoken yet, waiting as the others vented their frustrations.

“This is the third fucking time this week,” John snapped, his voice sharp. “First, it’s the shipment on its way to Birmingham, then the warehouse in Coventry. Now, he’s torching one of our pubs in Camden.”

Arthur grunted, his voice low and gravelly. “This is beyond sending a message, Tom. He's trying to cripple us.”

"Yeah, well, it's fuckin' workin', isn't it?" John snapped.

Polly’s voice cut through the tension. “It’s not about us.” The others turned to look at her, but her gaze was fixed on Tommy. “It’s about her.”

Finn shifted uncomfortably in his seat, the lighter slipping from his fingers and clattering onto the table. “Bingham’s after y/n, yeah?” he muttered.

John scoffed. “No shit. But why’s he fuckin' with us? If he wants her, why not go straight for her?”

“Because she’s under our protection,” Polly said sharply, her tone firm. “He wants to draw her out. Make her feel like she’s a liability, like she’s putting all of you in danger, so she'll leave on her own accord.”

Arthur’s fists clenched at his sides. “Well, it’s working, isn’t it? She’s already holed up at Arrow House, can barely move without us watching over her.”

“Arthur.” The room fell silent as everyone turned to Tommy. He exhaled a plume of smoke. “Bingham’s not trying to break her. He’s trying to break us first. He knows if he keeps pressing, we’ll start to question whether she’s worth the trouble.”

John’s jaw tightened, his hands flexing at his sides. “Then he’s barking up the wrong fucking tree.”

“Would we?” Finn asked quietly, his voice hesitant. “We wouldn't... We wouldn't actually—”

Arthur turned on him, his voice a low growl. “She took a bullet, Finn. Saved John's skin. And Tommy's. That makes her one of us.”

Polly stepped forward, her voice calm but unyielding. “She is more than capable of handling herself, but Bingham is exploiting her one weakness: she cares about all of you. And he knows it.”

The family exchanged grim glances. Until now, they hadn't considered how you felt about them, dismissing it as loyalty, not something as deep as care or concern.

“She doesn’t want us dragged into this,” Michael said, almost to himself. “That’s why she’s been so off.”

Tommy stubbed out his cigarette. “That’s exactly what Bingham wants. Isolate her and make her think she’s better off walking away.”

Polly’s eyes softened, just slightly, as she looked at Tommy. “And you’re not going to let that happen.”

Tommy’s gaze flickered to her, then back to the table. “No.”

John stopped pacing, leaning on the back of one of the chairs. “So what’s the plan, then? Sit around and wait for him to strike again?”

“No,” Tommy said, his voice calm but firm. “We make him come to us.”

Arthur frowned. “How? He’s been playing it smart, picking off the edges of our operations. He’s not stupid enough to walk into a trap.”

“We need to control the board again,” Tommy continued, his voice steady. “He underestimates how far we’ll go to protect our own, but we need to know how he'll show his hand.”

“And y/n?” Polly asked, her voice softer now. “How far will you go for her, Tommy?”

He didn’t answer. His gaze remained fixed on the cigarette in his hand.

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

The meeting was set on Tommy’s terms—neutral ground, but entirely orchestrated by the Shelbys. An abandoned factory on the outskirts of Birmingham, its cavernous halls swallowed the sound of approaching footsteps. The chill in the air was biting, but Tommy barely noticed, his mind focused entirely on the man he was about to face. John and Arthur flanked him as they approached the table set in the middle of the empty space. The Shelbys had arrived first, as planned, ensuring they controlled the environment. Men loyal to the Blinders waited in the shadows, armed and ready, though Tommy’s orders were clear: hold fire unless he signaled.

Bingham arrived precisely on time, a calculated move that didn’t escape Tommy’s attention. The man walked with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, his tailored coat swaying as he approached. Two men followed him, their hands hovering near their coats, but they stopped when Bingham raised his hand.

“Mr. Shelby,” Bingham greeted, his tone smooth as he sat across from the Blinders. “I appreciate the invitation. Though I must admit, your hospitality feels… Dare I say, prickly.”

Tommy didn’t smile, didn’t blink. He lit a cigarette, letting the silence stretch before finally speaking. “You’ve been busy, Alfred.”

Bingham leaned back, feigning casualness. “I’ve been investing my time wisely. Disrupting this city is hardly a chore when your people seem so… distracted.” His eyes gleamed as he added, “She’s quite the distraction, isn’t she?”

Arthur’s fists clenched, and John bristled, but Tommy raised his hand, keeping them in check.

A devious grin stretched over Bingham's face, one of mania and a love of chaos. “Enlighten me, Mr. Shelby. You seem quite invested in this little venture of mine. After all, the pawns must fall before I can reach the King—or in this case, the Queen. If that's what you consider her.”

“I told you once before. We don't take kindly to strangers touching our property,” Tommy continued, his voice low and steady. “And you've done just that.” He leaned forward slightly, his icy gaze locking onto Bingham's. “You will be beneath that rubble before the week is up.”

Bingham’s smirk faltered, just slightly. He chuckled, though there was no humor in it. “Bold words, Shelby. But let’s not pretend this is about your family. This is about y/n, is it not?”

Your name hung in the air, charged with unspoken tension.

“She’s more trouble than she’s worth,” Bingham continued, his tone dripping with disdain. “Always has been. I’m surprised you’ve tolerated her this long. Or is it something else? Something more… personal?”

Arthur shifted, but Tommy stayed perfectly still, his expression unreadable.

Bingham leaned forward, his voice low. “Don't tell me... You fucked her, didn't you? No... You don't seem so simple as to be effected by one night." His eyes widened with rabid curiosity. "You're in love with her."

Tommy's lip twitched in the slightest, wondering if Bingham was prodding him for the truth or if he really knew.

"You can be honest with me, it's alright. You must have a... Savior complex. You think you can protect her from me, from herself. That woman is truly bewitching, so I cannot fault you. But she's always running, always hiding. And you think you can save her? She doesn’t want to be saved, Shelby. She belongs to no one, but, in time, she will have to make a decision.”

Tommy’s jaw tightened, but his voice remained calm. “You’re right about one thing. She’s not mine. But she’s not yours either.”

Bingham's eyes narrowed. He smirked, clearly enjoying the friction. "Ah, but she was. You see, Tommy, y/n was never truly meant for this world of yours. Not really. Not when she could have so much more—when she should be so much more. You think she belongs here with you, but she was always mine. My prodigal protégée. I taught her everything she knows. Has she told you about me?"

Tommy stiffened at the phrase. Prodigal protégée. It stung in a way he couldn’t quite explain. He'd never fully understood the hold Bingham had on you, but hearing it spoken so plainly stirred something deep within him—something protective and possessive that he had long buried.

"That's the thing about protégée's," Tommy finally spoke, his voice cold and flat, though the muscles in his shoulders twitched with a restrained fury. He could feel the anger bubbling beneath the surface, wanting to break free. "Eventually, they leave. She already made her choice. She’s not going back."

Bingham chuckled softly, a low sound that was almost mocking. "Oh, she hasn’t made her decision yet, Tommy. Not truly. You’re fooling yourself if you think she’s all in with you. All of this? The Blinders? It’s not her world. Not really. She’s just playing a part for now. She's smarter than that. Though, I suppose it's not your fault that you can't see that."

John's eyes flickered to Tommy, watching him closely, knowing his mind was working. "Fuck this guy, Tom. Let's fucking end this already."

Bingham leaned back in his chair, his grin widening like a serpent preparing to strike. "John Shelby, am I correct? How well do you know her, John? I know exactly what she’s been running from. What she's done. I hope, for your sake, you aren't in love with her, too. After all, the last man who loved her met a sticky ending. I'm sure she told you about Ezra. Poor fellow. Such a... Messy death. Foaming at the mouth. Convulsing... It was unsightly. So, if you think she’s over all that—if you think she’s really free of me—well, you’re more deluded than I thought."

Tommy’s fist clenched, but he didn’t move. Ezra—the name hit Tommy like a physical blow, a reminder of everything that had gone wrong in the past, everything that you had lost. He knew what Bingham was doing—he was pushing him, trying to force him into a corner. And, deep down, Tommy hated it. Because Bingham knew. He knew the way you carried that guilt with you all these years, the burden you refused to speak of, and now Bingham was using it against you—and against him.

Bingham saw the flicker of doubt in Tommy’s eyes. It was brief, but it was there. "Your face betrays you, Mr. Shelby. I taught her that as well, how to read people. A face can reveal so much, and right now, your face is telling me that some part of you also believes she's the reason her former beloved is dead in the ground. The other part tells me that despite this doubt, your lust for her forces you to doubt what the facts tell you. She will falter, and the Peaky Blinders will simply be collateral damage."

Tommy felt the anger and frustration rising, his pulse quickening. He opened his mouth to respond, but Arthur beat him to it, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

"She didn't have us back then though, did she?" Arthur smirked. "Reckon you don't realize what that means."

"It means we'll put you in the fuckin' ground," John sneered.

Bingham’s smirk returned, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Look at all of you. Trying to protect her like a rabid dog. Or perhaps, she's the piece of meat you three fight over. Y/n made her choice when she tried to walk away, but she’ll make another one soon enough.”

Tommy stood abruptly, snuffing out his cigarette with a forceful twist. John and Arthur mirrored his movement, their postures taut with restrained anger.

“We’re done here,” Tommy said coldly. “Enjoy whatever time you’ve got left. It won’t be much.”

Bingham stood slowly, adjusting his coat. “It was a pleasure meeting you officially, Mr. Shelby.”

Tommy’s lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile, one devoid of warmth.

As Bingham and his men left, John turned to Tommy, his voice low. “You think he’s bluffing?”

Tommy’s gaze remained fixed on the door Bingham had just exited. “No. He’s planning something.”

Arthur huffed with a grunt. “Then why let him walk out?”

Tommy lit another cigarette, the glow illuminating his steely eyes. “Because now we know exactly where he stands. And when he makes his move, we’ll meet him there.”

The brothers nodded, the weight of what was to come settling over them. Tommy exhaled a long breath, his thoughts already racing ahead. Bingham had made this personal, and Tommy Shelby never lost when it was personal.

✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒✒

The news came to Tommy as the brothers regrouped in the Garrison later that evening, the meeting with Bingham still a lingering storm cloud. The bar was quieter than usual, tension making even the usual rowdy regulars keep their voices low. Arthur poured himself a drink at the counter, grumbling under his breath, while John leaned against the wall, his sharp eyes scanning the room as though expecting to emerge from the dark.

Finn burst through the doors, his face pale, a streak of dirt across his cheek. His usual easygoing demeanor was replaced by something darker—fear, tinged with fury.

“Tommy!” he called, breathless.

Arthur turned sharply, the glass in his hand clinking against the counter. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s bad,” Finn said, swallowing hard as he stepped closer. “Canal Street warehouse—torched while you were on your way back. Took out everything inside—cash, guns, booze. All of it gone.”

Arthur slammed his glass down, the sharp sound echoing through the room. “The bastards waited till we were sitting with him. That fuckin'—”

“There’s more,” Finn interrupted, his voice lower now. “They didn’t just hit the warehouse. They went after Charlie’s yard.”

That name landed like a bomb. Tommy’s eyes sharpened, the icy calm of his demeanor cracking just slightly.

“Charlie’s yard?” he repeated, his voice deadly quiet.

Finn nodded, his jaw tight. “They roughed up some of the boys there. Left a message… said you can’t protect everything.”

Arthur’s face darkened, and he reached for his coat. “That’s it. We go now. We take the fight to them.”

John nodded, his anger barely restrained. “We should’ve finished him at that bloody meeting!”

But Tommy held up a hand, silencing them both. His mind was already working, the pieces of this new game falling into place. Bingham hadn’t just struck at their operations—he’d struck at their family. It was bold, reckless even, but it was also effective.

His brothers exchanged glances but ultimately nodded. Tommy’s way had always been the way that got results.

As the others dispersed to prepare for what was to come, Tommy sat alone at the table, staring into the glass in front of him. He knew Bingham was pushing all the right buttons, trying to draw him into a fight on his terms. But this wasn’t just about strategy anymore. This was all out war, and death would surely follow.

[falloutwitch2004]

But Daddy, I Love Him! ~ Songfic

Steve Harrington x Fem Hopper Reader

TW: implied smut, cursing, established relationship

I forget how the west was won. I forget if this was ever fun. I just learn these people only raise you to cage you. Sarahs and Hannahs in their Sunday best. Clutching their pearls, sighing "what a mess". I just learned these people only try and save you, 'cause they hate you

Y/n sat in her class, barely there. Her mind wandered to when she'd see Steve in the hall during her free period. The bell rang, alerting her class was over.

"What'd he say?" Steve asked when he saw her.

"You don't want to know." Y/n replied. "What'd Tommy and Carol have to say?"

"Oh, you really don't want to know." Steve replied.

"Stevie, I can take it." Y/n said.

"Then you tell me what your dad said first." Steve prompted.

"He says he won't watch me lose all my life plans to a guy like you." Y/n said. "That he doesn't want to see us together anymore."

"Ouch." Steve commented. "Guess I'm bursting his bubble in about half an hour."

"I'll go hide out at Eddie's if I have to." Y/n added.

"What, no, that's what I'm for." Steve argued.

"And your place is the first place he'll look." Y/n said. "Besides, Eddie's been my best friend since we were kids. I trust him."

Too high a horse for a simple girl to rise above it. They slammed the door on my whole world. The one thing I wanted

"You've been sneaking out?" Hopper asked angrily glaring at his daughter.

"Well it's not like I can sneak him in." Y/n talked back. Hopper was having none of that.

"You keep the act up, young lady, you're window'll be nailed shut." Hopper threatened.

"Good, then I can use the door like a normal person." Y/n sassed.

Now I'm running with my dress unbuttoned. Screaming "But Daddy, I love him!" I'm having his baby. No I'm not, but you should see your faces!

"You're not leaving this house with him again." Hopper ordered.

"Watch me." Y/n said, tossing the cardigan she wore over her dress aside and running out the door. Steve stood at the parkway, arms open for his girl.

"Have you lost your mind?!" Hopper asked from the front porch.

"No, Daddy, I love him!" Y/n yelled back with a smirk. "I fucking love him! Oh, and I'm having his baby!" Even Steve's jaw dropped at that. "I'm kidding!" Steve let out a relieved sigh.

I'm telling him to floor it through the fences. No, I'm not coming to my senses. I know he's crazy, but he's the one I want

"Drive." Y/n ordered of Steve.

"Where to?" Steve asked.

"Anywhere but here." Y/n said.

"She'll come to her senses." Hopper thought out loud.

"No she won't." El said gripping the leg of Hopper's khakis. Hopper watched Steve's car drive away, y/n flipping the bird out the window as a Tears For Fears song played.

Dutiful daughter, all the plans were laid. Tendrils tucked into a woven braid. Growing up precocious sometimes means not growing up at all

Since she was small, Hopper had an idea of what he wanted for his girls. He unfortunately lost Sarah, whixh in turn made him harder on y/n. He was hust as hard in El when she had come into his life.

"You're always going to be my little girl." Hopper would tell y/n.

He was chaos; he was revelry. Bedroom eyes likeca remedy. Soon enough the elders had convened down at the city hall

"You see my daughter out there, you bring her and the boy she's with in." Hopper said to the officers under his authority. Little did he kniw they wouldn't find them. Y/n was wrapped up in Steve's arms, tangled in his off white sheets.

"You gonna stay tonight?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, yeah I'm staying." Y/n confirmed.

"Stay away from her!" The saboteurs protested too much. Lord knows the words we never heard. Just screeching tires of true love

So many stood at the curb outside watching as Steve drove the pair out of Hawkins. They screamed words that were all to jumbled to hear and threw soda cans at Steve's car. Y/n's hand quickly found Steve's.

"We'll be alright, sunshine." Steve reassured.

I'll tell you something right now. I'd rather burn ny whole life down than listen to one more second of this bitchin' and moanin'. I'll tell you something 'bout my good name. It's mine alone to disgrace. I don't cater to all these vipers dressed in empath's clothing

"We should go back." Steve said as he waited in line at a Wendy's drive thru.

"What, no!" Y/n argued. "Steve, I made this choice to run away with you, so don't say you're keeping me from my family or that yoy forced me to do this. I chose this Steve. I chose you."

There's a lot of people in town that I bestow upon my fakest smiles. Scandal does funny things to pride, but brings lovers closer. We came back when the heat died down. Went to my parents, and they came around. All the wine moms are still holding out, but fuck 'em. It's over

After nearly a year in Chicago, Steve and y/n came back to Hawkins.

"Hey, you're back!" Eddie said hugging his best friend.

"I missed you too, Eds." Y/n replied. That's when they saw Hopper and El. "Hi, Dad." El ran up and hugged her big sister.

"How've you been?" Hopper asked.

"We've been good." Steve replied.

"And, we're gettin' married." Y/n added.

Now I'm dancing with my dress in the sun and even my daddy just loves him. I'm his lady, and oh my god you should see your faces. Time, doesn't it give some perspective. I know you can't come to the wedding. I know he's crazy, but he's the one i want

Y/n danced with Steve on the balcony of their Chicago apartment.

"You're the best choice I ever made." Y/n said before pulling Steve by the collar in for a kiss.

[cbsghostsmetasandtrevor]

CBS Ghosts 4x19 Live Reaction

It's a Trevor-isode!!! <3

I hope it's good.

Oh more Joan....

WOW everyone asking if he did it.

PINKUS!!! Trevor's so excited!

LOL a decision that haunts us to this day.

Alberta still loving the Yiddish.

Aww Pinks <3 he wants to respect Trevor. I love that he so genuinely cares for him <3

I love Sam explaining this painfully.

Sam's forcing everyone to watch - LOL.

Donna mention ... LOL Pete hasn't broken up with her.

Love Pete throwing it back at Isaac.

HAHAHAHA "You're the only ghost he hasn't met"

AWWWWW<3

Jay pretending he didn't know.

Abby! A phone number - Laurie Goldstein. He literally ghosted her.

OOOOHHHHH. The pants just keep on giving!!! Love that Pinkus has so much love for Trevor!!!

Okay, why is this in this episode??? It's not related. I do not care.

Donna asking him to go and investigate. Why does he believe her? I wouldn't.

BEFORE MY WEINER DISAPPEARS.

OMG HIS DAUGHTER KNOWS THIS. DAMN.

OOOH Laurie passed away.

OH FUCK. HE DIDN'T KNOW HER WHOLE HER LIFE???? He wants to tell her???

HE'S HER DAD!

OMFG JAY. also, who believes that??? Please stop with No Pants.

"My boys can swim." - "That's your first reaction?" - "I'm in shocked"

Sass! Pastrami Gene???

OMG Sam. Bad start.

Awww Trevor.

Alberta - "sounds like she'll be living with Pinkus for a while"

this is awkward.

Ohhh Trevor wants her to know. OOOOH Trevor... OOOOH.

This is not going to go well.

On the plus side, Sam's learning to say no to ghosts.

LOL this ghost - I have some bad news : It was your GF.

Stop it, Trevor.

Sass "I don't know about this - could you get me pizza?"

AWWWW he sent it to Abby!

Suspiciously clumped. LOL.

OMG THIS IS HILARIOUS.

And now it's not funny. - Fuck Trevor. WTF.

Alberta's dilemma is funny.

PLEASE HAVE TREVOR TELL HIM IT WAS HIM NOT SAM.

'Cause this is not good.

Side note - why did Sam have Abby and Adam in her phone?? And why leave her phone when she knows that this is the kind of thing Trevor would do.

there are so many commercials damn.

Aww Trevor <3 He knows he screwed up. and is sorry <3

SUPER LAME PHOTO MONTAGE.

Awww Trevor can right the mistake.

TMONEY! Magic Fingers McGee. OMG.

Richard was lying! And Isaac's GASPS.

Awwww <3 This song. Jesus.

Big guns - Green Day.

Trevor <3 wishing he could have been there, but Pinkus doing great!!

Awwww, sweet moment!!!

"That feels fishy" - "I see that now"

OHHH Richard's WIFE KILLED HER????

She's still alive and a murder.

Oh, she wants to know more about Trevor! Sam offering to talk to her about him.

Awww Trevor always wanted a family.

This is the most organically conversation of Sam interpreting for a ghost. I love it <3

Also, the whole excitement of her loving the cutting edge and Sam mentioning the memorial!!!! And claiming that she heard these things from people there <3

God, I love it! <3

This is how things could've gone for Trevor and his brother.

OMG did Sam give the tip!! Donna's innocent.

Sam could solve murderers.

LOL Sam being like "you know what - you need things from me."

Okay, okay, I loved this Trevor episode! <33333

[kay-wren]

I'll Come Running - R.C. - Chapter 58

"Well I don't care what you have to do to keep her! It's always cheaper to keep them than to replace them. If she won't move to New York, make it an offer she can't refuse." Rafe demanded over the phone as he walked through the kitchen the next morning. He leaned up against the counter to watch Jessie make breakfast for Charley, who was still fast asleep in the king size bed. Jessie whipped her head away from the stove long enough to put her finger to her lips to tell her husband to quiet down. It was way too early for him to be yelling, especially over work. He simply nodded his head with pursed lips and furrowed brows, clearly agitated but listening to his wife. She giggled at the sight as she went back to making breakfast.

The conversation continued for a few more minutes until Rafe abruptly hung up and flung his phone down beside him. He never moved from his spot on the counter, instead he folded his arms up, clearly in thought as he looked down at the ground. Jessie decided to lighten the mood as best she could by walking over to him and leaning on him with her arms wrapped around his neck.

"It's wayyy too early to be this frustrated." She simply said with a soft smile.

"Yeah well working out of three different time zones makes stuff like this kinda hard." Rafe explained through frustration. He wrapped his arms around Jessie's waist, albeit a little more aggressively than usual, looking at her soft eyes with stern ones. She dismissed the look, knowing it wasn't for her and kissed his lips gently.

"What's the problem now?" She asked, genuinely curious.

"My secretary doesn't want to move." Rafe simply stated through a short temper.

"So find a new secretary." Jessie replied as if the answer was obvious. Rafe just paused for a moment, trying to think of an appropriate explanation.

"She knows too much." Rafe responded with a guilty look. At that Jessie couldn't help but giggle a little. She then decided to pause to come up with a solution of her own.

"Well then you'll just have to kill her." Jessie joked with a shrug of her shoulders.

"That's a very real possibility." Rafe cracked a smile as he joked right along with her, to which she laughed. He brought Jessie closer to him to kiss her harder, this time getting a little more heated, until they were rudely interrupted.

"Oh god, okay, ya know what? It's sickening enough for me to be hungover and now I have to watch you two play tongue hockey!" JJ mumbled as he walked in the kitchen with squinted eyes. Jessie couldn't tell if that was due to the massive hangover or the fact that the two of them were making out right in front of him. "Seriously get a room." He sassed.

"Our room is occupied by a three year old little girl." Rafe sassed right back as JJ took a seat at the bar.

"And so your solution is to have sex in the kitchen? Seriously there's dozens of rooms in this house." JJ mumbled as he rubbed his eyes. The couple just couldn't help but laugh. Jessie dismissed his snide remarks and went to the fridge.

"Hey grab me a beer outta that." JJ said mindlessly pointing over that direction still holding his head.

"Seriously, Jayj? You know a beer is not gonna help." Jessie scolded as she opted for the milk.

"Yeah, and kooks don't typically drink this damn early." Rafe joked. JJ just groaned in annoyance as he laid his head on the cold marble counter. He looked quite comical they had to admit.

"You're getting toast instead." Jessie exclaimed as she went to grab the bread from the pantry. JJ knew better than to argue, especially when he was this hungover.

"Rafe will you go wake Charley up? I don't want her sleeping all day." Jessie asked. Rafe gave her a look that said he really didn't wanna do that. Jessie noticed.

"Oh come on, you're gonna have to be the bad guy at some point. She'll live." Jessie reiterated. Much like JJ, Rafe knew better than to argue. Instead, he marched back to their room.

Jessie slid the cinnamon sugar toast over to her brother, who's head was still laying on the counter. She figured he was asleep, so she snapped her fingers to get his attention. It worked, and he jolted his head up with eyes open, but not for long considering the pounding headache he just remembered he had.

"Eat up, I don't want you puking on the floor. This shit's probably priceless." Jessie joked as she pointed to the toast. She then brought him a glass of milk as well.

It wasn't but a few more moments until Rafe rounded the corner with a sleepy Charley clinging to his hip. Her head rested comfortably on his shoulder and Jessie could tell she was almost back asleep. She sleeps just like her uncle: anywhere at anytime. Rafe looked smitten as he just rubbed her back, wanting her to choose when to wake up. Unfortunately, he had to let go considering he got a call as soon he as he entered the kitchen. He huffed and gave Jessie a sympathetic look as he had to pass her off.

"What?" Rafe snapped as he walked out of the room. JJ watched as he marched away and looked back at Jessie.

"Does that not bother you?" JJ mumbled as he took another bite.

"What?" Jessie asked.

"The constant phone calls, the bad mood he's in, the stress?"

"That's all just a season. We're all going to find a new normal at some point and he won't be this busy." Jessie said dismissively with a head shake. JJ just shook his head in disbelief as he looked down at his food.

"How many times did you see Ward on the phone, stressed out, talking about business, and all that other shit?" JJ asked, allowing for a pause for his sister to think. "Right, a lot. Probably almost everytime you saw the man. That man had been running that company for decades and never got a break. The only time that man was ever off his phone was when he was entertaining all the other rich goons around him. You're kidding yourself if you think that's gonna change, sis."

Jessie just sighed deeply with an annoyed look on her face as if she knew a lot more about this situation than JJ did. She hated that he was so confident in his speculation. He decided to back off.

"Alright, alright..." JJ said as he held his hands up in surrender. "But all I'm sayin is... if I ran the same business he was running, I'd do hard drugs too."

JJ meant that as a joke, but to Jessie it was anything but. She didn't even want to think about the path her husband could go down if he didn't draw some boundaries and take a break every once and a while. But then again, Rafe had seen first hand the man that his father had become, so she liked to believe that he would be self aware enough to not let that happen. After all, he already revolved his life around Charley and her the second they came back into his life. She had to hold on to that truth to not let her mind run wild with doubt and fear.

Jessie was pulled out of her thoughts by a clearly flustered Rafe coming back into the kitchen, now breathing a sigh and scratching the back of his neck. He came to stand right beside his wife, putting his hands on the countertop and stretching his neck with his eyes closed. JJ noticed it too.

"You alright there, big guy?" JJ asked with knitted brows. Rafe just opened his eyes slowly to give JJ a subtle glare and brought his eyes over to Jessie, who had the same look of curious concern on her face.

"I'm fine." He muttered. "I'm going to get in the shower, if Pope comes down tell him I've got people coming at noon and he needs to be ready."

The siblings simply nodded their heads, trying not to push it.

"Do you need me to do anything?" Jessie asked with sympathetic eyes, genuinely trying to be of any assistance she could. Rafe picked up on her fragile tone and immediately shifted his attitude as best he could.

"No, baby, I'm fine, it's all gonna be fine." Rafe whispered as he cupped her face and gave her a reassuring look. He admired her beautiful face for just a moment, and took in his favorite sight of his two girls. He planted a sweet kiss to Jessie's lips and slowly peeled his fingers away. JJ tried his best not to ruin the moment by being disgusted with the public display of affection. With that, Rafe backed away and headed for their master bathroom. Jessie watched as his back muscles tensed as he clinched his fists on the way out. She could tell he was still deep in thought about anything and everything.

- - -

"Pope, I'd like you to meet Mr. Singh. Mr. Singh, this is Mr. Heyward." Rafe introduced the two men who were now standing in the grand living room, both dressed in collared shirts and perfectly ironed pants. Not Pope's preferred wardrobe, but he knew he had to dress to impress-- literally.

Rafe had his driver take the rest of the crew out for a day at the beach, with security standing back modestly of course.

The two men shook hands and exchanged nods of approval.

"So, Mr. Heyward." The man spoke up in a thick Bahamian accent. "I hear you have something of great value to me."

Pope had no idea what to say, after all, he'd never done this before. Pope's words got caught in his throat for fear of saying the wrong thing or giving off the wrong vibe. Despite Rafe's brief teaching before the meeting, Pope still forgot everything, now only looking at Rafe to rescue him. Thankfully, not too much awkward silence lapsed before Rafe quickly stepped in.

"That's correct, Mr. Singh." Rafe played it off as he rubbed his hands together and dawned a confident smile, making sure to look the man directly in the eyes. "It's a cross. Seven foot long made of pure gold and adorned with diamonds and other precious stones. Appraisers say it's priceless."

"Your father and I have been business partners for a long time now, Cameron. And although he hasn't screwed me yet, I would like to know... how did this young lad get involved?" Mr. Singh asked with furrowed brows in Pope's direction. He ran his hand mindlessly through his beard waiting for an answer. Rafe didn't waver.

"This cross— the cross of Santo Domingo— was found by this young man. And he wants to make sure that when this artifact is sold that it's sold to the right partner. Someone who's... going to appreciate it as much as he does. And of course I thought who better than you Mr. Singh?" Rafe calmly stated through a kind smile that Pope couldn't help but tell was fake. That's all these pleasantries seemed to be... fake. But Rafe told him it would be. These were negotiations, nothing more.

"Well that is a fair point but I still do not see how this man found you, Mr. Cameron? And if you found him then... why aren't you wanting this "priceless artifact" all for yourself?" The Bahamian asked with a knowing smirk. Rafe expected the man to always be looking to get under his skin.

"Well that's really none of your concern, Mr. Singh. Because what I have in front of you right now is much more important than any backstory you claim to need."

Pope just watched as the two men eyed each other up and down, clearly playing a silent game of dick measuring. He thought he was ready for this, apparently he wasn't. Still, he couldn't stand the thought of not saying something. He finally cleared his throat.

"It's worth at least 500 million dollars."

Rafe just pursed his lips just enough to keep himself from scolding Pope. No straight answers was what he was told, and yet here he was, spewing a cold hard number to this man. Luckily, Rafe was good at not letting anyone see that he was upset. Now was not the time to lose it.

Mr. Signh was visibly shocked that Pope spoke up. He raised his eyebrows and let out a slight chuckle as he leaned back in his chair, now feeling like he had the leverage.

"Well well well... he speaks!" Mr. Signh exclaimed as he clapped his hands together.

Rafe looked at Pope with a grin that he knew held so much sarcasm. Rafe decided against saying anything else, feeling like Pope needed to sort this one out now. Pope felt the judgement, and just decided to roll with it.

"Yeah I do..." Pope stated calmly, now inhaling deeply and rubbing his sweaty palms on his perfectly starched khakis. "And I want you to know that this cross isn't to be altered in any way if I sell it to you. I want this in a museum on display somewhere. I feel that that's what it deserves."

"Fair enough, Mr. Heyward..." The man leaned in once more with his hands folded together neatly, giving Pope an oddly genuine smile. "But I feel that Mr. Cameron has yet to inform you that... I'm more interested in... off the record purchases. One's that don't get put in museums but... ones that put 500 million dollars cash in your pocket today. Is that something you'd be interested in, Mr. Heyward?" He whispered. Pope looked over at Rafe, unsure of what to say or do. Rafe gave no physical indication of what to do. After all, this was his cross. Rafe's input or previous coaching clearly didn't matter to Pope.

"Well yeah but-"

"But what, Mr. Heyward?" Mr. Signh asked with harsh eyes and a tilt of his head. Pope just sighed.

"If it's not going in a museum or to a good cause... then I can't sell it to you." Pope said sternly, finally finding his voice. Mr. Singh looked down at the floor and tapped his freshly polished leather loafer against the expensive rug.

"Very well, Mr. Heyward. But just a word of advice." Mr. Singh said as he stood up from the couch and looked between the two men in front of him. "Mr. Cameron... doesn't do honest deals either."

With that, the man strutted out of the mansion with his goons in tow. Pope and Rafe both watched as he ominously walked out of the room. Suddenly, Pope whipped his head back around with fury as he looked at Rafe with narrowed eyes and a puffed chest. He looked like he was trying to control his breathing.

"What?" Rafe spat with arms slightly extended.

"What does that prick mean by not doing honest deals? You know what? Never mind, I know exactly what he meant by that! That guy's not from some museum! He's not a collector!" Pope fumed as he now paced around the room.

"Oh he's a collector..." Rafe corrected defensively. Pope had to physically stop and ball his fists in that moment to contain himself. He pursed his lips and let the pent up air out slowly through his nose. Suddenly the collared shirt he had on felt suffocating, and he hastily unbuttoned the top button.

"That's not what I meant, Rafe. He's a black market collector and-"

"And he'll make you more money than you ever thought possible if you give up the damn merit! Dude, I understand you're new to all this, but you gotta understand, I'm not... and I'm telling you... this is what gets you and your little friends to full kook just like you all wanted!" Rafe seethed as he now met Pope where he was standing, being sure to point a finger towards his chest.

Pope had to pause once again to contain his anger.

"My little friends are also your sister and your brother in law. God, Rafe, I thought you understood by now!"

"Understood what?!"

"... We're not friends... we're family... you're family. We all let you in on this despite having our reservations about you because we love Jessie and chose to trust her. You still don't get it! You're still trying to do things your way and you're not understanding that we can sell this cross to the right people, make money, and still keep the moral high ground! We may want to be kooks... but we're not gonna be sell outs to get there..."

"If you're gonna be a kook you're gonna have to-"

"What you just did was not treating me or anyone else like family. This is not just a transaction, Rafe."

Rafe matched Pope's demeanor, now eyeing the man in front of him up and down with fists planted firmly by his side and his chest slowly heaving up and down. Pope could tell he had so much left to say, yet he didn't. Instead he walked away still fuming. Despite everything that just happened, Pope had to admit he was impressed. Not a punch thrown, not a shove, not even one more venomous word.

Rafe marched back to his hidden room, planting himself firmly on the bed and rubbing his eyes furiously as if to try and forget the memory of what just happened. Rafe felt like he had been punched in the gut with all the family talk.

"This is not just a transaction, Rafe."

Rafe didn't understand family... he understood transactions. That was the problem, and it broke his own heart. After all, that's all he was ever taught. Life was not a journey, but a game, a game that his father taught him to win. Ward toured around as a "family man" but Rafe knew he was anything but. He couldn't help but wonder if he would ever view life as more than just transactions as well. He needed Jessie here to prove him wrong, but she wasn't. Rafe started to sob with his head in his hands as he grasped the weight of Pope's words. Jessie and Charley were clearly his family, but the Pogues? Maybe he wasn't as open minded as he thought. Years of hatred and a brainwashed narrative will do that to a person. Then again, he thought he was doing the right thing by Pope and the others by trying to make the most money, not giving much thought to Pope's true intentions. Maybe that was his problem, he was never taught to move morally, only strategically. The sudden rush of emotions and flood of childhood traumatic memories overwhelmed Rafe. He needed Jessie, but she wasn't there.

Before he could process what he was doing, he felt his legs move towards the pantry right outside his hidden door. His mind was numb, only processing what felt like weights around his feet weighing down his legs. He felt drunk and out of his mind and yet he had nothing in his system. He scoured the cabinets for anything he could find, of course, all the wines, champagnes and whiskeys one could possibly imagine were right where they were supposed to be. He quickly grabbed the closest whiskey he could find, not even bothering to grab a certain brand and downed one big swig. The burn down his throat still wasn't enough to drown out the pounding in his head. He held his eyes once more trying to forget. He stumbled back into his bedroom and towards the master bath, not from drunkenness, but from losing his senses altogether due to the overwhelming anxiety he felt. He managed to catch himself as he placed his arms on the marble sink, slowly looking up at himself in the mirror. He took notice of the blown out pupils and wet bloodshot eyes.

"Be a man, men don't cry!"

Rafe heard his dead father ring in his ears the same way he heard him when he was ten years old. He physically groaned at the thought and put his head down feeling like the weight could snap it right off. Given the migraine he was suffering from, he wished it would.

Speaking of migraines, Rafe remembered he was in the bathroom, and behind the mirror would be some medicine that could help. With that he sniffled, wiped his face and tried to pull himself together despite nobody being around to see. Suddenly the suit jacket he had on felt like a straight jacket, and he immediately pulled it off. He rummaged through the cabinet sure enough to find the bottle of pills he was looking for, but when he opened it up, it was not Tylenol he found. It was a plastic baggy of the all too familiar powder. God, why'd he have to hide that shit everywhere he wondered. Even after he decided to get clean he still couldn't seem to escape his former self who undoubtedly had the best hiding spots. Still he stopped in shock as he looked at the contents of the bottle. He expected to immediately throw the bottle down and run out of the bathroom out of fear. Instead, he gripped it tighter out of anger for contemplating his next move. He still felt drunk to his senses, yet now he was filled with rage. Rage that this bottle had so much control over him in the moment. He gritted his teeth at the thought of the cocaine undoubtedly taking his headache away... and all the other pain he was feeling. He needed his Jessie... but she wasn't there.

Finally unable to take the pressure that kept building in his skull and in his mind, he created the perfect line of coke that would carry him through until his girls got home.

[sleepsonclouds]

Clouds tropespots: The Spirealm, E09

Episode 9 (Drum sisters, 3rd door)

I've been insanely busy, but this show's helped me keep some sanity points... which is kind of ironic, considering. Anyway, we're back in the drum world, Nanzhu is still his tragic self, and it's time for the first Girlfriend Discussion! Baijie makes her (very) brief cameo!

Sickly Victorian heroine: Xu Jin has a bone to pick with Ruan Nanzhu: after questioning his courage, next come his sleeping habits! How can he be tired after sleeping all day? Nanzhu, quiet and pitiful and beautifully passive aggressive: "Sorry. I've always been in bad health. I'm sorry if I have inconvenienced you." I bet Lin Qiushi is not inconvenienced…

Appreciating partner (flirt mode): …because Nanzhu simply must thank his Linlin-ge for taking care of him! Oh, the sass is strong with this one. And is Qiushi any better for telling Nanzhu to behave while he's gone? Did he have to lean in like that? Can they get more married? (Yes.)

Refusing to sleep with strangers: Qiushi is peacefully gazing upon Nanzhu's sleeping countenance, when he's interrupted by Xu Jin. She's cold, and the only heat source she'll accept is Linlin-ge. Peak social awkwardness from Qiushi: "You're too fat. The bed's too small." Oh dear.

What did you do last night?: Nanzhu's been watching over the sleeping Qiushi. He waits until Xu Jin's left, and then: "Last night, did anything happen? …I meant between you and Xu Jin?" Not that anyone's possessive or anything. Qiushi: "What could possibly happen between me and her?" It's not that Qiushi doesn't get it - the answer just happens to be nothing.

The Girlfriend Discussion: Nanzhu asks big questions bright and early: "What broke you up with your last girlfriend?" Qiushi (practical): "I've never had a girlfriend. How am I supposed to have an ex-girlfriend?" He's been too busy with… stuff. Nanzhu (eloquent): "Oh." Why's Nanzhu so interested anyway? The answer is the most weighty "I was just asking" he could possibly deliver. While looking at Qiushi Like That. While the romantic piano music is playing.

Saving partner: Nanzhu saves Qiushi, who's hallucinating and about to kill himself. We see another, blurry person (memory?), but Nanzhu's frantic "Linlin" is the only thing that gets through, and his face is the only thing that comes into focus. Does Nanzhu actually slap him? It's very quick. At least there is lingering shoulder-touching. Someone's reluctant to let go.

Crossdressing: Li Dongyan's got a crush. On Nanzhu's cross-dressing alter ego. He's got photo proof and everything! I was wondering what they'd do with novel!crossdressing - I'm glad Nanzhu's still got his hobby! Everyone from Obsidian recognizes him, though I couldn't tell. (He's just that good.)

The Perils of Crossdressing and Being Too Hot: I have no words for this conversation, just watch it. Apparently Nanzhu has no right to make decisions for herself as himself… Cue comedy music.

Sickly Victorian heroine (cont.): Qiushi is concerned (yet again) - is Nanzhu tired? Though he was the one who almost jumped off the building. And later, he volunteers to climb up to the drum roof (despite almost being pushed down earlier), because Nanzhu's just recovered and must protect his delicate health! I'm starting to see Qiushi's priorities.

Fishing for compliments from partner: Xu Jin says something which Nanzhu misunderstands on purpose. Who'd miss a chance to ask their partner's opinion on important matters: "Linlin, do I look like a freak?" Well, not at all, of course! Naturally Nanzhu then wants to know what that means, exactly... and they're interrupted by Xu Jin. At least she admits Nanzhu is the most handsome man around. Nanzhu may forgive this.

-> Episode 10 wraps up the drum sisters story, and then we'll have something creepier to look forward to.

[crimson-calligraphyx]

I don't know how long I held onto Leora, but no amount of time would ever be enough with how badly I had missed her. She didn't seem to mind, but eventually she got sick of my crying, and the whole room erupted into laughter when she very forcefully told me to stop. I wiped my tears away with a laugh; oh, how I missed her sass.

She laid her head on my chest, her little arms wrapped around me tightly, and I played with her hair. It was still just as soft as I remembered and smelled of strawberries. I couldn't stop twiddling the dark strands between my fingers, the smile on my face never vanishing. Even though I was constricted to a hospital bed and hooked up to IVs with my leg suspended in a splint, I never felt more at home.

I asked how Christmas was, if Santa had brought her everything she wanted, and my heart broke hearing her say 'everything but you'. I squeezed her a little tighter and tried to suppress the cries that were bubbling inside me again by pressing a kiss to her head. "I'm so sorry, babygirl," I whispered, "I'll make it up to you, I promise. I'll get you everything you want for your birthday, and more." Though I wasn't audibly crying, the tears still rolled down my face.

"I already got what I wanted, momma. I just wanted you back," she mumbles, her cheek squished against my chest as she nuzzles further into me. "Really?" My voice was hoarse and my chin trembles. She nods, her head still against my chest, and I took a deep breath in and let all the air out of my lungs to try and calm myself. I couldn't keep crying, I had to be strong for my little girl.

"Hey, Leo," Nick makes his way over to my side, rubbing the back of her head. "Why don't we let mom sleep for a bit, hm? Head back to the hotel with Nana and Papa, then we'll all come back tomorrow when she's rested." "No, I don't wanna," she whines, burying her face into me. I chuckled, rubbing her back. "I'm not going anywhere, I'll be here tomorrow, I promise." "Promise?" She picks her head up to look at me, tears glossing over her eyes. I stuck my pinky out and she hooks her pinky around mine. We both kissed our hands, sealing my promise.

I give her one last kiss on her cheek and tell her I love her before she slips off me, landing on her feet gracefully. She begins to trot towards the door, stopping in front of Noah, who had since moved to the vacant chair to give us our space, with an inquisitive look. She continues to stare at him, and he gives her a soft smile paired with a small wave.

Leora suddenly closes the distance between them and hugs him. I see the shock written on Noah's face, his body stiffening for a moment with the uncertainty of what to do. "Thanks for saving my mom," she says quietly, still clinging onto him. Noah and I locked eyes briefly, and all I could do was grin at the sincerity of the moment. He timidly wraps his arm around her small body, rubbing her back, and I see the subtle curl of his lips while he does so.

I look up at Nick when he places his hand on my shoulder, and he leans down to give me a hug. "Did you tell him?" he asked in a hushed tone. I simply nodded, feeling his arm tighten around me. "Good. I'm proud of you, Meels." He winks and gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze when he pulls away from me, then makes his way towards the exit.

Leora and Noah separate, and she makes her way over to Nick's awaiting hand. I can see how reluctant she is to leave, with how she stares at me longingly, as if she's scared that she won't see me again. It hurts me to see her go so soon, but I know she'll be back tomorrow. Even so, I couldn't stop the tears from falling when I watched them leave.

Noah brings the chair over to my side and takes my hand in his, giving me a gentle squeeze. I roll my head towards him; he has a sympathetic, yet reassuring smile gracing his lips. I try to smile back, but my lips tremble and I'm crying all over again. He squeezes my hand a little tighter and wipes the tears away with his free hand, hushing me.

"They'll be back tomorrow, Meels. You heard him. Eat something and get some sleep." He motions his head towards the food tray on the other side of me. I take a choppy breath in and nod, trying to calm myself. "Okay," I mumbled. My food was probably cold by now, but he was right, I needed to eat.

He stands and lingers, still holding my hand. His eyes were soft even though he looked at me with uncertainty, like he wasn't sure if he should return to his room or stay by my side. A selfish part of me wanted him to stay so I wouldn't be alone, but he needs to rest, too. I let go of his hand and tell him to go back to his room so he can rest, and he hesitantly nods before turning around to head back.

"Thank you," I say just as he reaches the doorway. He turns around, one eyebrow perked in questioning. "For what?" "For...everything," I let out an airy laugh. "Encouraging me to keep fighting, getting me out and taking me here, and..." I trailed off and started picking at my nails, unsure if I should say the last bit of my sentence. "And?"

I smiled down at my hands bashfully and continued to pick at the skin, feeling my cheeks warm. I don't know why I felt so nervous suddenly; we just spent the last 6 weeks locked in a cellar together, completely vulnerable with one another. Between him getting sick and getting the shit kicked out of him, using the restroom in front of each other, me breaking down in front of him several times, and of course telling him some life-altering shit, there shouldn't be any reason I can't say something so simple.

Shaking my head, I laughed lightly at my foolishness and returned my gaze to him. "For being here. I really don't think I could've made it without you, Noah. Which feels ridiculous to say considering...well, you know." He lets out a soft chuckle, bobbing his head in understanding. "We're in this together, Amelia. Remember?" All I can do is nod in agreement. "Get some rest. I'll see you later." He gives me a thoughtful smile before turning and heading back to his room.

Together. It's still such a strange word to describe us.

But I couldn't stop the grin from spreading across my face or the butterflies from ricocheting in my stomach at the thought. Something about it just felt right.

-

There's a knock at my door, and it startles me awake—I let out a scream, unsure of who or what it was. I sat up quickly in a panic, the heart monitor beeping in time with my erratic heart as I looked around the room. It's not dark and it doesn't smell of mold or mildew. I can see the sky; clear blue and accompanied by puffy clouds. There's no dirt underneath me, but a clean bed with a blanket on top of me. I let out a huge sigh of relief, finally looking at the door.

I'm puzzled when two police officers cautiously make their way in, stopping by the foot of my bed. "Amelia Ruffilo?" One of them asks, and all I do is nod. He smiles kindly, "I’m Officer Michael DeCecca, this is my partner, Detective Andrew Garcia. How are you feeling?" They both flash their badges as he says their names. "I... I don't know," I croaked, my throat dry. I pulled the side table to me, reaching for the cup of water from earlier. I took a few small sips and cleared my throat. "For starters, confused." DeCecca chuckles, "You're not in any trouble, Amelia, we just want to ask you a few questions. Is that alright with you?"

My eyes dart between the two men in front of me while I once again picked at my nails anxiously. I knew I should trust them, but I couldn’t help the hesitancy that I felt, my stomach doing somersaults as the room filled with an uneasy silence. I huffed after a minute or two and nodded; they had been patiently waiting for confirmation from me.

“Great,” DeCecca starts. “Do you know why you’re here?” “Well, my leg is broken,” I mumbled and motioned to my leg that was still suspended in a splint. “How did you break your leg?” Detective Garcia steps in, a little on the assertive side compared to his partner. I jerked my head back slightly and scrunched my brows together, not appreciating the tone. “I stepped on a bear trap.” “And how did you step on a bear trap?” “I-I wasn’t paying attention when I was running from…him,” I stammered and squeezed my eyes shut as the memories flooded me.

I tried to shake the vision from my head—I could see the blur of the trees as my legs moved as fast as they could to get me away from that prison. I could feel the burning in my lungs when I fell to the ground and knocked the wind out of myself, gasping for air as the teeth of the bear trap ripped into my flesh. I could feel the panic caving in when I saw the crimson soaking through the denim I wore, coating the steel and hindering me from releasing the jaws from my leg.

I remember how helpless I felt, lying back against the icy leaves, accepting that I had met my fate. I remember the fear I felt when I saw Charles’ menacing shape reappear in front of me, trying my hardest to get away from his vile touch. I remember how defeated I felt when he carelessly dragged me back to the house and dumped me onto the dirt.

“No!” I shouted, suddenly feeling a hand on my shoulder. I blindly threw my arms out, swatting whoever it was that touched me, “Don’t touch me!” “Amelia, calm down hon,” I hear someone say. “I’m not going to hurt you, I’m here to help.” “Get away from me, Charles!” I screamed, feeling tears trail down my face.

I covered my ears with my hands, shaking my head, trying to rid the nightmare living in my head. It was of no use; I was stuck in those four concrete walls and dirt floor with nothing but a disgusting mattress and a single light bulb. There was no food, no water, no warmth other than the filthy clothes that I wore. There was the paradox of a door that I wanted open yet shut at the same time—open so I could escape but shut so I knew Charles wasn’t in the room with me.

I felt the hand on my shoulder again, but this time I threw my fist out and hit whoever was next to me. Hard. My eyes shot open when I heard something topple over and crash onto the floor, and gasped for air as the panic clenched around my chest.

I realize now that I had just punched an officer and he had bumped into the heart monitor, knocking it to the ground. Some of the electrodes were ripped from me, but I couldn't even feel the sting that typically accompanied adhesive being tugged from the skin due to the adrenaline I had coursing through me.

There were hands on my shoulders, pinning me down to the mattress, and I tried my hardest to push them off—I couldn't be restrained again. I couldn't let another person overpower me. "Get the fuck off me!" I hollered, attempting to put my good leg between my body and theirs to get them off of me.

It was no use; they were much stronger than me, and effortlessly held me down no matter how hard I thrashed. I gave up eventually and went limp. All I could do was cry as more people rushed in, and even that was difficult with how hard I was heaving. I couldn't breathe, feeling like the wind had once again been knocked out of me.

Suddenly, I felt incredibly fatigued and my limbs were tingling. I felt like my skin was crawling, and I had the urge to scratch, but couldn't lift my arms to do so. I couldn't even keep my eyes open; my eyelids felt like they weighed a ton, and everytime I could open my eyes, everything was blurry. However, I could breathe again, and my heart wasn't beating out of my chest anymore.

A few deep breaths later, and I was comfortably numb, drifting into a deep sleep.

A/N: sorry for the chapter being on the shortish side. I hope you enjoyed 😅

|Chapter 13|

[booksrbetterthanpeople]

Mirrorverse Crossover- Adrien

Jafardrien hissed with discontent when he walked into the room. This... Varient of him was almost too paintful to look at, from that blindingly white smile of his to those God-awful shades of pink he's actually wearing. The young sorceror made no effort to hide his disgust, making the prince curl in on himself a bit and look away. 'Good.'

Adriunzel clears his throat a bit and manages a smile. "So! You're... Me."

"No kidding," Jafardrien retorted without so much as looking away from his snake staff. He gives it a quick polish with the hem of his jacket as he takes his seet across from the Prince. "Would you care to ssstate more obviousss factsss, or keep sssmiling there in sssilence like the idiot Prince you are?" To his surprise, Adriunzel didn't flinch or even cry like he was hoping he would. He bristled a bit, but, the sorcerer could work with that.

Adriunzel's eyes then zeroed in on the golden staff in his counterpart's hand, specifically the cobra-shaped topper. "Oh, I'm guessing that you like snakes? So do I, actually." When Jafardrien arches an eyebrow, he holds his hand up to what looks like a scale-print scrunchie in his hair, only for it to move into his hand and reveal itself as a snake. "This is Sass." He admitted bashfully, "He's sort of been my best friend since forever."

If Jafardrien were impressed, he tried not to show it. When he reached a hand toward the turquoise snake, it bit his finger, making him quickly retract.

"Sass!" The Prince lightly admonished. "We don't bite people." He whispers a quick, "Even if they are villains." Sass only curled up around his neck and nuzzled against his cheek as an apology. "I-I am so sorry-"

"Don't be," Jafardrien interrupted. "A little venom never hurt anyone, now hasss it?" With that, he licked up the venom beginning to ooze from his bite with a forked tongue. Adriunzel tried not to gag. "It isss quite an impresssive feat though, that sssuch a... Ditzy young prince sssuch asss yourssself, ssso naive and vulnerable to the outside world managed to tame sssuch a thing." Sass bared his fangs at the remark, and Jafardrien bared his larger set.

Adriunzel only shrugged his shoulder. "Well, it wasn't like he was going to bite me, or anything. I found Sass out on the balcony, and he was hurt, so I healed him. We've been friends ever since."

"And that is ssso lucky for you," Jafardrien hissed. "But, had it been a diferent sssnake, who knowsss? That kindnesss will get you killed, Princey." His eyebrow raised the same time as Adriunzel's.

"Look," Adriunzel started. "I think I see what you're trying to do, and I hate to break it to you, I really do, but I've grown accustomed to insults hidden in the form of concern and "compliments,"" he said with finger quotes. "So, if this is an attempt to break my self-esteem or something, I don't know what to tell you."

🌼🐍

"That's my boy!" Fairy GodBro hollered, much to to irritation of Honest Nino. "That oversized garter snake's got nothing on him!"

Marinette De Vil gritted her teeth. "You shut your mouth, you... You-!"

"Oh!" Madame Aurore raised her hand. "Pixie punk?"

"Bubble-brain?" Maxdrome offered.

"Over-glorified babysitter?" Lady Chloé sneered.

Marinette De Vil seethed and crossed her arms. "All of the above!" Before she could confront the fairy, a wooden spoon was held up to her face, courtesy of TiAlya.

"Take one step closer to him," she threatened with a glint in her amber eyes. "I dare you."

Out of the corner of her eye, the designer saw Doctor Cabello gesturing with their hands to back down. Trusting the shadow witch's experience with Louisiana chefs in the past, Marientte De Vil wisely stepped away, but still shot Fairy GodBro a glare before joining up with Shan Kagami and DiabLuka to watch their boyfriend put that Prince in his place.

Lacey Gothel was eyeing the door with a greedy look in her eyes. If she could just have one little snip of that Prince's hair, then that'll be enough! She'll remain young and beautiful forever until the end of time!

Without giving it another thought, she raced toward the door with her scissors already on hand, only for Demolition Denise to suddenly into view and restrain her arms in one hand. "Nice try, crazy."

"I NEED HIS HAIR!" She all but screamed. "UNHAND ME!" She made an attempt to slash Denise with her scissors, only for Simon Pan to snatch them out of her hand.

"I'll say to you what I've never said to anyone," he snarked. "Grow up."

🌼🐍

Jafardrien barked out a laugh. "It had taken you that long to realize that'sss now how a parent should treat their own kid? Even if I were not the massster of all deception, I would be able to tell that old bassstard is a piece of shit."

"Well, pardon me for never knowing life outside of the tower," Adriunzel said as his eye began to twitch. "See, there, it was either set foot on the grass and be killed or stay safe with father and be constantly belittled and treated like a three-year-old at the age of thirteen."

"Now, now, no need to get worked up Princey," Jafardrien simpered. "I'm sssimply ssstating factsss. Surely, you had to have known that parent should not imply that their children are ditzy little onesss and make sure that they never leave the confinementsss of home, right? And if my pathetic sssperm donor in your universsse is anything like Lacey, then-" He lets out a fake gasp and brings his hand up to his chest with a faux sympathetic look. "He mussst've loved your hair more than you, correct?"

He laughs again as a dark look crosses Adriunzel's face. "That isss too pricelesss! Oh, your own father loved your magic hair more than you, and you didn't see any red flagsss there?! You really are the lesser me! Oh, how your own girlfriendsss can ssstand to be around sssuch ssstupidity isss- HRK!" He's suddenly jerked forward by a coil of Adriunzel's unbraided hair wrapped around his neck.

The Prince stared him dead in the eye while keeping a white-knuckle grip around his locks. "Never talk about my girlfriends ever again," he threatened. "You think you or any of those other villains can make me feel inferior? Like an idiot? When every day since I was just born, I have dealt with all sorts of psychological and emotional manipulation. Compared to that, you all are just the world's smallest mosquito, buzzing around for hours on end until your slapped out of the air."

He eventually unwrapped his hair from around the sorceror's neck. Before Jafardrien could back away, Adriunzel grabbed his arm and pulled him close so he could whisper, "Go tell your girlfriends and boyfriend to not bother my partners until this is all over. Understood?" Without waiting for a response, he let Jafardrien go, allowing him to barrel out of the room. Now alone, he turned to Sass and asked, "Think I over did it?"

Sass only nudged his cheek with his head.

"Yeah, I think he's fine."

🌼🐍

The villains and heroes all stared at the bubble with various expressions. They ranged from shocked, to disturbed, to terrified.

Mireides broke the silence first. "... That was... Chilling."

Suddenly, the door swung open. Jafardrien walked in with a vacant look in his toxic green eyes, much to the alarm of Shan Kagami and Marinette De Vil.

"Adrien-" Whatever the general was about to say got cut off by by Jafardrien suddenly wrapping his arms around her and Marinette De Vil and ushering them far away from Kagamerida and Marilan.

"I, uh..." He finally says. "I'm not gonna be the sssame for a while.”

Just then, Adriunzel walked into the room with an innocent smile, looking nothing how he did earlier. While rebraiding his hair, he said, "I'm so glad we had that talk!" Jafardrien seemed to twitch at those words.

Lacey Gothel, who was hellbent on stealing his hair, seemed to calm down in Demolition Denise's hold.

@imsparky2002 @msweebyness

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

🦇 Divine Rivals Book Review 🦇

Find my review below.

❝ I think we all wear armor. I think those who don’t are fools, risking the pain of being wounded by the sharp edges of the world, over and over again. But if I’ve learned anything from those fools, it’s that to be vulnerable is a strength most of us fear. It takes courage to let down your armor, to welcome people to see you as you are. ❞

❓ #QOTD Have you ever had a pen pal OR what book do you want to read before the end of the year? ❓

❝ Perhaps it begins with one person. Someone you trust. You remove a piece of armor for them; you let the light stream in, even if it makes you wince. Perhaps that is how you learn to be soft yet strong, even in fear and uncertainty. One person, one piece of steel. ❞ 🦇 For centuries the gods have slept, only to drag mortals into their feud upon waking. After her brother leaves to fight, 18-year-old Iris Winnow strives to support herself and her mother. She'll need to win the columnist position at the Oath Gazette to do so. Only one problem: her rival, Roman Kitt, who seems to have everything handed to him. In her brother's absence, Iris drafts letters to him on her nan's old typewriter. After slipping them under her wardrobe door, they vanish―unknowingly, into the hands of Kitt. As they write back and forth to one another, they forge a connection stronger than any war. Can the kindled hope between them survive this world?

💜 The mingled scents of black tea and smeared ink, the clatter of an old typewriter, and the vulnerable longing left by loss. Add a dash of magic, wailing sirens, the echoes of bombs exploding...it all seems like a recipe for disaster, not an enemies-to-lovers romantasy novel, and yet, these key ingredients set Divine Rivals apart as one of the must-read novels of the year. Rebecca Ross has crafted a clever, enthralling love story that perfectly balances whimsy, fear, longing, and mystery with this deeply emotional, spellcasting first installment. The shared heartache for those they miss and lost unites Iris and Roman in ways they don't even realize from the start. The magic of their typewriters and the vague mythology behind the war mix well with the historical setting. It's the almost-lyrical, poetic prose of their love letters that is perhaps most striking. With each letter, they both shed a bit of the armor they hide behind, revealing scars and vulnerabilities underneath. What starts as an enemies-to-lovers romance full of sass, wit, and charm becomes so much more. By the last few chapters, this story will take grasp of your heart, seep into your bones, and trigger intense feelings of longing until the second novel is in your hands.

💜 Iris is a heroine you can stand behind and root for from the first page, but it's Roman who holds the cards in the first half of the novel. Watching him fall first (initially through the love letters), while struggling with guilt, grief, and his familial debt was a beautifully painful experience. I've experienced part of Iris' journey, falling for someone through pen and page; Ross captures that enamorment perfectly. For the most part, the story is more historical fiction than fantasy. The magic seeps into the roots of the story, adding bewitching elements without stealing from the star of the show: the growing feelings between Iris and Roman. They find love in the dark, a spark of happiness in moments of fear and despair. Iris experiences so much loss, only to gain a found family (also, sapphic ship alert!). I rarely, rarely say this, but this is the type of story I'd love to see on screen.

🦇 Since this is a slow-burn romance, the pacing does drag at times, especially in the first half. While Ross' choice to sprinkle hints of the mythology and magic throughout the story leaves readers to focus on the character development and romance, it does keep us entirely in the dark. Though the rivalry between the gods started centuries ago, it seems strange that there's little known about its origins. Even the snippets Roman finds (which paint Darce and Enva like Hades and Persephone) feel incomplete. The world-building holds us at arm's length from the fantasy side of the novel until the very end, causing the final chapter to feel nearly out of place. It seems the mythology was restricted only for the shock value of that final chapter.

🦇 Recommended to fans of VE Schwab, Sarah J Maas, Jennifer L Armentrout, Lore, and Fourth Wing.

✨ The Vibes ✨ 🖋️ Rivals to Lovers/Dual POV 💌 Found Family 🖋️ Love Letters/Witty Banter 💌 Historical Fiction/Fantasy/Romantasy 🖋️ War Setting 💌 Magic, Myths, and Gods 🖋️ He Falls First 💌 Slow Burn

[after-nine-at-the-oasis]

Quick post for Ghosts 3x03

I never got around to making the post but it's almost time for the next episode so let's do this lol

Hetty's scandalous artwork xD genuinely loved that lol, so good

And Nancy's comment xD she slayed that lol

Genuinely though, getting more Hetty backstory was amazing!! It's so sad what happened though :(( I know we know her dad was Not Good but it just sucks :(. And her poor man xd.

I am glad Isaac ended up not listening to her though lol. Like sure, protecting your money in many cases is totally valid. But also like. It's 10 thousand dollars and you're dead xD. What is either of you gonna do with it without the other's say so lol. It's not a deal breaker xD. Anyway, I love Isaac and Nigel with my whole heart thank you <33.

I knew Bela would start seeing him as a bad boy after lying to her xD. I'm glad she still stood up for herself though!! Also it's just wild that he came up with that lie in the first place 💀. Poor ghosts though, they were so happy and hopeful for a second xd. Anyway, I do think it would've been interesting to see them try and communicate it without Sam! But Sam coming back made for some hilarious moments lol. Her and Jay lying about it too was wild though 💀. And him throwing himself down the stairs xD man is out of control slfjdhs. Also naur the Flower mention 😭😭💔. Also oof for blowing his cover with that xd. I am glad Bela found out, though, she deserved to know. Also the biker being a ghost XDD. But nonetheless, I am glad she's still with a mostly good guy lol. Also why didn't Jay and Sam just try and convince her that made him a bad boy instead of keep up the lie lol xD.

And I genuinely kinda expected him to start seeing ghosts for real after his fall and not have anyone believe him for a hot second XD. Anyway lol!

Ahh right his name is Eric

I saw it when I was looking up a summary to make sure I wasn't missing anything xD.

Also, I loved seeing Thor and Sass watching Hetty's flashback! A their reactions were great lol, and B it's nice when we see the older ghosts in flashbacks :)! Helps everything more connected :D. Also I'm glad they managed to help because of it.

Anyway, Alberta, Pete, and Trevor also slayed <3 we just didn't see as much of them. Though of course there's still Trevor being hung up on Bela lol. Good for him I guess xD

Oh and the idea to bring Flower back with a seance!! I'll talk about that in a minute but for now just AAAHHHH that would be so slay :'D

I also watched the promo for the next episode, and WOW it looks wild lol. A seance, AND CAROL DYING?? I'm wondering if maybe she'll die but go up to heaven, and the seance will bring her down (briefly). But, who knows I guess ┐⁠(⁠ ⁠∵⁠ ⁠)⁠┌. I don't think we're going to see Flower, but it would be really nice :')). Especially for Thor :'D :'( 🥰🥰❤️. I miss her so much 🥺😭❤️. But, I'm just not sure that I believe we will.

Anyway, I loved this episode!! It was great :D. It was fun seeing Eric and Bela again, and thinking, if even just for a moment lol, there might be someone else who can see ghosts xD :). And it was great to see more of Hetty's life! Also, just, Nisaac <3. But yeah :DD! I had a lot of fun watching this episode :)).

I'll see y'all for the next one!!

[countlessrealities]

5 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐎 𝐈𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 [part 1]

Won't Saw play petty but potentially deadly tricks on you if Morty also really likes you

Will make you gadgets unprompted

Will invite you to his best parties

Will share his personal booze with you

Will take you on a few space trips (with or without Morty)

Extra: in my timeline split verse with @advnterccs, he'll introduce you to his counterpart

Will stand up for you if Rick is a jerk to you

Will make sure to learn about your interests, so he can join in if you'd like to share them with him

Will steal the ship and take you somewhere cool (be it Blips and Chitz, or some other place in space)

Will tell you all about his adventures with Rick

Will bend over backwards to try and help you with whatever issue you might have

Extra: in my timeline split verse with @advnterccs, he'll introduce you to his counterpart

Will put down her phone when she's talking to you

Will sass to death whoever even just thinks about bothering you

Will take you shopping and give you fashion advice

Will invite you at the house for sleepovers

Will bring back little cool trinkets for you whenever she goes on an adventure

Extra: in my shared verse with @imprvdente, she'll ask Fish if you can tag along for one of their fantasy adventures

Will acknowledge and listen to you out of genuine interest and not because he's keeping up his President persona

Will be more indulgent towards you than he is with everyone else

Will invite you out for drinks or meals

Will stalk keep a close eye on you

Will make sure that no harm comes to you

Extra: in my timeline split verse with @mcltiples, he'll introduce you to his counterpart

Will acknowledge your existence even if it's not unavoidable

Won't harm / murder / gore / torture / experiment on / vivisect you

Will allow you to watch him while he works

Might briefly talk to you even if it's not strictly necessary

Might share some chemical he synthesized and know you would find useful

Extra: In my shared verse with @mcltiples, he'll introduce you to his partner (as someone who isn't to be touched)

[shads-shipposts]

Hey everyone! I'm back to complete the rest of part one! I did originally intend to post earlier in March, but then I finally got a job! Plus I just wasn't happy with the flow of things so I ended up restructuring a lot of things. Due to the job, it took longer than expected but I wanted to at least get a larger stockpile of chapters before I started posting again. I have up to ch 15 written, and am almost done with ch 16. Instead of the bi-weekly uploads, I'm sticking to weekly (every Sunday) uploads anywhere between 9-11AM EST. 

Enjoy the chaos!

Masterlist

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

Hope she'll be alright in there.

To hell with Allan, if that creep lays a hand on 'er I'll flay him alive myself.

Neil's eyes remained fixed on the manor as he and Harry stood by the old blue car, worry and guilt swirling within him. As the dark shadows gradually rose up the faded and ivy-choked facade, so too did his apprehension rise.

This was taking too long.

He looked at his watch, dismayed and angry that only a few minutes had passed.

Felt like hours.

Neil glared at the manor again, tapping his foot impatiently.

He should have gone in there with them. Shouldn't have put his faith in Allan to keep Shadow 100% safe. Neil trusted the first mate enough to follow his command, sure, but he knew how men like Allan operated.

To stay in their good graces, you had to be useful. No free rides, no charity. You earned your keep with men like Allan. If you didn't appease them day and night, you could count on being cast aside. If you were lucky, you'd just be booted out of the crew and sent home with nothing. If you weren't...

The sea kept the secrets she was given, and rarely if ever would she cough them up.

Allan seemed to take to Shadow well enough; he wouldn't tolerate the constant sass if he didn't find her at least somewhat amusing. But would that be enough for a selfish man like Allan to stick his neck out for her?

At least Tom was with them. Neil knew he had a darker, nastier side to him, but from what he'd seen, the third mate had a soft spot for Shadow just as she did for him.

Probably reminds him of Scarlett.

Neil never met the alien himself, but he heard enough about her to understand her importance to the crew. Particularly Tom.

Harry, in his drunken ramblings, mentioned Scarlett saved Tom's life and had been closest to her before she mysteriously vanished. It made sense that Tom would form a bond with someone who reminded him of the person who saved his life nearly at the cost of her own.

"Oi," Harry grunted around an unlit cigarette, elbowing him. "Let's see that lighter, mine isn't workin'."

Neil rolled his eyes, fishing his out of his pocket and giving it to Harry. "That's goin' to be the death of ya."

"Hasn't killed me yet," Harry snorted, cupping his hand around the flickering flame and lighting the end of the cigarette. As it smoldered, he flicked the lighter shut and focused once more on the hulking silhouette of Marlinspike.

He hasn't stopped staring at that manor since Shadow went in, either.

Gravel crunching beneath light footsteps drew Neil's attention to the bottom of the main steps leading into the back of the manor. For a brief, hopeful moment Neil thought Shadow escaped through the basement. But while the shape resembled a shadow, with jet black fur aside from tan points, it wasn't the American.

Instead, the estate's guard dog crept cautiously toward Neil and Harry.

A rush of affection overtook Neil, and he crouched down. "Hey, mate," he coaxed, extending a hand. "Where'd you come from?"

Seemingly encouraged by the friendly tone, the dog snuck closer and wagged its tail. Hesitantly at first, but then with more vigor when Neil patted his head and scratched his ears.

"That's it. Come have a bit of a scratch," Neil chuckled, the rottweiler's presence helping him relax.

Should he encourage the pup to stick around? Would Shadow be happy with him, or was she scared of dogs? If the latter was true, Neil would shoo him off. But Shadow struck him as an animal lover, so maybe keeping the guard dog around would lift her spirits after Sakharine inevitably stressed her out.

Animals always cheered his sister up, too

Harry sighed. "You and your strays, Neil. Pickin' 'em up left and right, you bring back another and Allan'll have your hide."

Fuck him to the moon. I don't give a damn what he thinks if this helps Shadow.

"Speakin' of strays, what d'ya think of the kid?" Neil prompted. "I mean, she's gonna be stickin' with us after all."

Harry rolled his eyes, taking a drag before exhaling and gesturing vaguely. "Think she should trot her ass back to whatever fancy university she came from, and leave the fightin' to the big dogs."

Neil rolled his eyes. "I mean what do you really think?"

Harry fell silent, flicking Neil's lighter as his face shifted from disdain to concern. "She's in over 'er head," he muttered around the cigarette after a long pause. "She doesn't know what she's gettin' into, she can't."

"She knows, Harry."

"The hell she does. She's stubborn and treats everything as a joke, and it's gonna land herself in trouble that we can't get 'er out of," Harry fretted. He flicked the lighter anxiously. "Then what? I'm not... I can't bury a kid." Sorrow crossed his face. "Not again."

Neil's chest ached.

It'd been years since that terrible night when Harry's dirty dealings caught up to him and stole his family from him, but it still weighed heavily on him. Countless times Neil had to nudge the bottle away from Harry, the older man often snapping viciously at him before immediately breaking down again.

"Shadow's not exactly a kid, Harry," Neil said gently.

"You know what I mean," Harry growled, pointing the cigarette at Neil. "She's too young to go down this path. Someone's gotta tell 'er the truth of it all, it's not glamorous. Not fun." He tapped his foot. "It's too late for us. We're in it for life. Shadow can still avoid it."

"Don't think she wants to get mixed up in the life, mate." Neil rubbed Hector's side. "Think she's just fixated on the ship because we're sailors, not because we're smugglers."

"Then she's still a damn fool for even comin' near us."

"She's more street savvy than you give 'er credit for."

Harry shook his head. "Neil, she's not Charlie. Don't treat 'er like she is."

Too fucking far.

Neil's voice turned cold as his throat seized. "I'm aware she's not my sister. She's a shadow, not a bloody ghost."

Harry shot him an apologetic look. "Look, I... didn't mean to-"

"It's fine," Neil growled, cutting him off. "But watch your fuckin' mouth."

Tense silence passed between the men, broken only by birdsong and the crunch of gravel beneath Harry's shoe as he shifted back and forth. Neil focused on the guard dog, choking back harsh, damning words that could bring Harry to his knees.

He knew the secrets.

Knew the weaknesses.

Knew exactly how to cut him so deep that even the entirety of the ship's stores couldn't numb the pain.

But what would that accomplish?

He didn't need to add to the tension. Shadow would have enough of a struggle as it was without Harry lashing out when she inevitably made a snarky comment.

Focus on the pup.

And so Neil did, focusing on getting the dog's leg to do the happy-kick even when the Rottweiler's body blurred beneath him.

"I... I think Charlie would have liked Shadow," Harry said eventually.

Neil lifted his eyes, focusing his watery vision on the manor. "Yeah." A bittersweet smile ghosted his face. "She damn well would have."

Allan took one hell of a risk touching Shadow with such familiarity.

Nearly every other close contact ended in a bite or a kick. Even if the actions held no genuine malice, Shadow didn't exactly inspire confidence when it came to predicting her actions.

But the risk was necessary; he needed to know just how comfortable she was with him. Before manipulating anyone, you had to know what boundary would cause them to pull away. What boundary would make all the other defenses raise, locking you out as they prepared to defend against a greater attack. To know their deal-breakers, you had to first have an idea of where the boundary even was.

After all... the only sure way to know where the barbed wire lay was to venture into No Man's Land yourself.

Thankfully, Shadow correctly read his touch as playful, and responded playfully back. There'd been some shrapnel in the form of a mildly disgruntled glare at his arm when he first touched her, but no barbed wire here.

Not yet.

It could be because she thought it was a dream and therefore didn't take it seriously, but he liked to think it was because she had at least some trust in him.

Good.

Very good.

Trust meant loyalty, and loyalty was useful. Especially during a high-stakes race to riches where multiple factions all bitterly fought to come out ahead.

Loyalty freely admitted without any fight? Even better.

Didn't take a super sleuth to figure out where Shadow stood; the kid had zero filter and offered no false pretense. What you saw was what you got, for better or worse, and Allan admittedly relished the change of pace. It got tiresome constantly fretting about backstabbers and narcs. Shadow flat-out said she could excuse most crimes as long as you didn't annoy her personally.

As for an undercover detective, she antagonized Sakharine any chance she got. Were she a plant, she'd try to cozy up to that aristocratic fool.

So, Allan supposed, that meant he could consider her a trustworthy ally. Now it'd be even easier to get her alone and ask her more pressing questions.

Namely, those pertaining to Scarlett.

She consistently dodged the topic, but she definitely knew the Alphian. And because she knew the Alphian, she knew Allan and his men. Hell, she even admitted it was because they mentioned Scarlett that she knew she was generally safe to drop her guard a little around them.

She knew Scarlett, and Allan's determination to get the truth of Scarlett out of her could not be overstated.

But the way she kept going on about dreams starting to unnerve Allan, and he honestly was beginning to wonder if he'd left one nightmare this morning and was caught up in another. Things certainly held a similar level of absurdity. But unlike his last memory of Scarlett, this nightmare remained less scary and more utterly perplexing and headache inducing.

The type that didn't make you wake up in a cold sweat, breathing hard and shaking, but the type that made you slowly sit up on the edge of the bed and stare blankly across the room as you tried to decipher what the fuck just happened.

He still didn't know what to make of Shadow's head splitting a boulder into fours, with the woman coming out the other side with not even a bruise.

Allan saw what happened when men went up against rocks, either stationary or wielded by an enemy...

No man came out unscathed.

Allan glanced at Shadow from the corner of his eye.

What's with you, kid?

What secrets are you hiding?

What aren't you telling me?

And how can I get it out of you?

Everyone had something they'd get loose-lipped for. Allan couldn't very well threaten anyone, as he needed her to like him rather than fear him. Allan was also short on funds right now, so bribery through money was out of the question. That didn't seem like her currency, anyway. He could try alcohol, but if Shadow realized his game her shields could raise.

A more... subtle approach would be needed.

Get her reliant on you. Get her to trust you. See you as someone to turn to when things go sideways.

Luckily, he very well may have an opportunity presented to him on a golden platter soon.

Sakharine may have pretended to be a cool-headed and unfazed nobleman, but the moment things went wrong and people stood up against him, that facade dropped.

Any belittling or condesecntion would drive Shadow straight to Allan, and he'd welcome her with open arms.

Her stubbornness could cause issues for Allan himself, but unlike Sakharine, Allan welcomed high-spirited fighters to his team. Spend too much time with yes-men and you forgot how to handle a legitimate threat.

Wit could atrophy just like any muscle.

Kid's definitely strong. Both in terms of will and physicality. Got more fire in her than some men I've served with.

It was nothing short of satisfying to see someone finally bite back at the boss, Allan had to admit. His crew couldn't without risking retribution, or the withholding of funds. Even Allan himself was at risk of the same punishment, and the bitter truth was he needed that money.

Shadow didn't, and so she offered much needed reprieve from Sakharine's ego.

That fire and spirit wasn't without pitfalls, however, and he wouldn't put it past Sakharine to put a hit out on Shadow if she pushed him too far. Sakharine himself would never dirty his hands or "stoop that low", Allan knew, but the same could not be said of the men with him.

Sure Allan's own men weren't lawful and had their own assemblage of vices that would make a priest flee, but across the board there was one boundary they would not cross. One boundary Allan wouldn't never tolerate in the men under his command.

Sakharine's two favored lapdogs, Kevin Walker and Anthony Rochester... they had no such reservations. Did Sakharine never do a background check on the men he dealt with? Did he even care what those two had on their records?

Kill all you want. Loot all you want. Torture all you want.

The moment you stepped into the realm of sexual assault, you earned yourself a one way ticket to the bottom of the sea.

Some things you just had to draw the line at.

Allan would happily let her poke and prod at Sakharine, even bite him, but he'd keep a close eye out for any threats from Sakharine that went too far.

Funds and Allan's plight be damned, that would not fly.

Unfortunately, Allan knew fight of some kind involving Shadow was inevitable. Whether Allan and his men started the fight to protect Shadow, or Shadow started it to protect herself, it would happen.

The only question was when.

He and his men took it easy on her that morning. If they didn't hold back, excluding guns of course, would Shadow be able to keep up? She may not have been gun-shy, which was still valuable, but some men who didn't fear guns couldn't handle themselves in an unarmed scuffle.

Could she take a true, honest hit and keep going?

Could she shake it off and press ahead?

She went up against an actual rock and came out on top. She'll survive.

Allan glanced at her they all walked down the now dark corridor to the showroom, taking note of squared shoulders and a confident stride that almost outpaced Tom's. She held her head high, laser-focused on the door at the end of the hall.

She looked ready to fight.

If you have any magic abilities, please keep it hidden until we leave this idiot. I don't need him catching on to your potential.

Sakharine saw her as just a mild nuisance and liability at the moment, and Allan hoped to keep it that way. Sakharine wouldn't waste his honeyed words on someone he didn't see as overly valuable. It'd be far easier to sway Shadow to his side without Sakharine trying to play the lesser of two evils.

Because unfortunately... the man would probably win.

"Hey, kid," Allan said in a low tone, pulling her to a stop. "He's goin' to try to get under your skin."

Shadow raised a brow. "Duh."

"Just... want you to be ready for it."

"Don't you worry." Shadow's gaze shifted back down the hall, a new darkness to it. "I ain't got a habit of sidin' with people that have a god-complex and think themselves better than everyone."

Tom shook his head. "Don't write 'im off, kid," he stressed. "He's sharp, sharper than you think. He will find your weakness."

"Well, sucks to be him, but my mind is already made up."

Allan followed behind her as she headed for the end of the hall again.

Perhaps it is, kid. But everyone has a price. And he will find yours.

He just hoped the man was too angry to be cunning.

The aristocrat waited for them, impatiently pacing back and forth. The moment he saw them, fury blazed in his eyes and he stormed over.

Here we go.

"That was a foolish move, girl." Sakharine pointed his cane at Shadow. "You should be thanking me for being merciful and not suing you for everything you're worth."

At least he's still legal-minded in his threats.

Shadow scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I ain't worth jack shit," she said, baring her teeth in a sarcastic grin.

Sakharine's jaw tensed as he stepped closer. "You are trying my patience and that is a very dangerous thing to do."

Tom started forward, fists clenched, but Allan halted him with an arm across his chest.

Allan didn't miss the way Shadow shifted her weight to her toes, or the way her shoulders tensed as her hands readied to fend off a blow. Despite all the Sakharine's posturing, without his sword cane, he wouldn't stand a chance in hand-to-hand combat with Shadow.

A full-force kick from her would break something, especially if she fought dirty and went to the knee. Not to mention that if she bit Allan and Neil, albeit lightly, she'd probably give a much nastier wound to Sakharine.

"You gonna lecture me on escapin' after bein' threatened? Really?" Shadow scoffed. "I mean I said it before and I'll say it again, that's a shit way to get someone on your team."

"Who said I wanted that?"

"Why else would you oh so graciously offer to bring me here?" Shadow asked. She gestured towards the door. "I laid that breadcrumb out about Rackham back at the market and you went to it like a malnourished magpie."

She knows about that?

Add it to the list of things she shouldn't know.

It was becoming... a worryingly long list.

"Your insolence and brazen disrespect will not do you any favors here," Sakharine snapped. "This is not America, and I will not tolerate it. I am being more than gracious and forgiving of your flippancy. You would do well to cooperate and cease this folly."

"I ain't even aware of what I need to do to cooperate," Shadow retorted. "You keep throwing threats left, right, and center, and are more wordy than a thesaurus, but ain't said once what you want from me."

"I want information, you obstinate woman!"

Shadow gave him an unimpressed look. "About...?"

"The bloody Unicorn!"

This is all it takes to get to you? A snarky teenager? Guess you're just used to people tripping over themselves to please you, Allan thought. But thank you so very, very much for the opportunity to win Shadow to me.

"Let me try, boss," Allan offered, stepping forward.

Sakharine glanced at him, then back at Shadow. "Last chance, my dear. Or I will let this man deal with you, and his methods will be far more brutal than mine."

Shadow turned to Allan, a look of guarded curiosity in her eyes. Her weight shifted as he took another step towards her, eyes roaming his body for weapons, but other than that she didn't move.

Easy, kid. Just work with me here.

"Oh, I don't think any threats will be necessary, boss," Allan said, keeping his eyes on Shadow as he offered a friendly smile. "Care to fill me in, kid?"

Shadow's eyes finally shifted back to Sakharine, and Allan caught a small smirk before it vanished.

She's willing to cooperate with me, then, especially if it's to spite Sakharine. Think I'm really beginning to like you, Shadow.

"Sure, I'll spill. But, uh." She looked Sakharine up and down. "May wanna sit down for this."

"I do not need advice from such a foolish youth."

Shadow's nose wrinkled. "Fine. Hope your crypt keeper ass has life alert because I sure as shit ain't helpin' you up."

Hope he has what?

"Alrighty, which method y'all want?" Shadow asked, bouncing a little on her toes as she clapped her hands together. She blinked innocently at Allan. "Band-Aid, or ease into it?"

"Rip it off, kid," Allan said.

Shadow shrugged. "Aye aye, sir," she replied, pointing to finger-guns at him. "You're a movie."

That was... not what he expected. Neither Tom nor Sakharine expected it either, both wearing expressions of shock and bafflement.

Allan was right alongside them.

A movie? Surely Shadow didn't think their lack of hostility towards her meant this whole thing was all just for show? Had someone lied to her? Was that why she was so at ease around them? Why she wasn't taking things seriously?

"We're... what?" Allan said after a long struggle to get his mouth to work properly.

"A movie." Shadow frowned thoughtfully. "Or... do y'all call 'em pictures in this time period?"

This time period?

Well, that canned his earlier hypothesis.

"You mean a cinema?" Tom asked, speaking up for the first time.

Shadow snapped her fingers and pointed at him. "That's the bitch. You're all characters in a cinema which happens to be my favorite. I can quote the entire script, start to finish, from memory. I know trivia, the production history, all the names of the background characters, the voice actors, and so much more."

"What's a voice actor?" Tom asked.

"The movie is animated. Although it's so advanced you probably wouldn't even recognize it as animated."

Oh. Oh no. This was far worse than his original hypothesis. Shadow didn't just believe they were actors...

She didn't even think they were real!

"You're kiddin'," Allan said, tone flat in disbelief.

Shadow glared at him. "This face look like I'm kiddin'?" she asked, pointing to it.

No, not particularly.

"You believe we are simply actors?" Sakharine demanded.

Shadow shook her head. "Oh, no! You are quite real." She shrugged, crossing her arms. "In this universe at least."

Sakharine's eyes widened. "This universe?"

"Did I stutter?" Shadow asked. "Y'all wanted the truth, so here it is! Now that you have it, you got the audacity, nay, the gall, to call me a liar?"

"You aren't exactly making sense," Tom muttered.

Shadow got a strangely sadistic grin. "Oh, then this definitely won't make sense! If the movie deal wasn't enough of a shell shock, here's another bombshell!" Shadow laughed, but it sounded a bit too deranged to be normal amusement. "Not only am I from another universe, I'm also from the future! December 31st, New Years Eve, in the year 2019. Ain't that fun?"

Not only did she think they weren't real, and she was from another universe, but she thought she was from another time period?

Just what level of delusion was he working with?

Allan blinked, looking her up and down."That's... why you keep goin' on about dreams," he said slowly as he struggled to wrap his mind around the information. "You think you've been... what? Warped into your favorite cinema?"

"Aye. Because if it's not a dream, then I was actually sucked into another universe." A slightly crazed, nervous grin showed far too many teeth. "And boy howdy I ain't got the energy to unpack that."

We're certainly in agreement there.

"You're... real funny, ya know that?" Tom laughed nervously.

Shadow just blinked at him.

Tom's smile faded. "You... aren't jokin', are ya?"

"Again." Shadow pointed at her face, drawing a circle with her finger. "Check the face."

Tom shot Allan a worried glance, and Allan fought the urge to let worry overcome his own features.

He couldn't allow that. Couldn't allow weakness in front of Sakahrine.

"I thought you were just a foolish woman in over your head, but you are simply mental!" Sakharine exclaimed finally, fury filling his gaze. "You honestly believe you are from another universe? I should consider having you committed!"

That struck a nerve, panic flashing in Shadow's eyes before anger replaced it.

"Well ex-fuckin'-scuse me!" Shadow spat, throwing her hands up. "I didn't realize I was dealin' with a big shot who knew all the answers and secrets of the universe. Do enlighten me then, oh wise one, how the hell do I know about your ancestor? How the hell do I know Haddock's being held prisoner? And how the fuck do I know Rackham's last words to Sir Francis Haddock were a curse on his name and a promise that he would find him in another time, in another life?"

"Someone told you, I know not who," Sakharine blustered. "Such things are not possible, no more so than aliens."

Clearly you've never heard about Alphians, Allan thought, still fighting a rising nervous breakdown.

Allan didn't honestly know which was worse; Shadow being absolutely mental or... Shadow quite possibly being right.

Because the more he pondered it, putting it up against the rest of Shadow's behavior and knowledge so far...

The more it made a horrible, sickening kind of sense.

How she knew about the Karaboudjan. How she knew who Allan, Tom, and some of the others were. How she knew the ship would be in port. How she knew the crew wouldn't seriously harm her. How she knew about Haddock's plight. How she knew about Rackham. How she knew about...

About Scarlett.

But if she was right...

Then everything Allan knew to be true was not real.

He was not real.

He was just some puppet, victim to the whims of some being beyond his comprehension.

Oh, if only he could go back to this morning when the only person he had to worry about controlling him was a rich peacock with delusions of grandeur.

But, wait.

But if Scarlett is just another character alongside us in this universe...

Why is Shadow so twitchy about her?

There was something else, some truth even darker and more twisted than them simply being movie characters in Shadow's reality.

And Allan wasn't quite sure if he wanted the full answer.

He'd have to stow the rising existential panic and deal with it later, there were far more pressing matters to deal with. He had to get Shadow away from Sakharine so he could talk to her privately without alerting the aristocrat to the brewing mutiny. The sooner the better.

Scarlett would just have to wait.

Between the two, Shadow currently offered far more value to Allan; all the power in the world didn't hold a candle to foresight.

He couldn't let Sakharine claim that foresight for himself.

Nothing personal, boss, though maybe it is a little personal. But this is a game you only win by holding all the cards.

And Shadow very well could be the ace up his sleeve that tipped things in his favor. 

[wildskissed]

Random Asks - @elkenbulwark mused: He's taken to tuning and plucking at the bent up lute he usually carries on his back for extra protection should something knock his usual weapon out of his hand with a menacing strike. There's not much to the process as far as creativity goes. He simply strums at it and adjusts the strings as necessary to the tune of one he'd simply memorized during elven music lessons- nothing more than to appease an instructor than inspire an audience. 

This isn't a side of him that Eve is used to, and it caught her quite by surprise to even hear the tune, let alone to catch Birvor plucking away at it. She's much more acquainted with the side of him that's pummeling enemies on the battlefield and huffing about as he scoops her up to safety...so this is new. Moreso, it's not at all UNWELCOME, as watching him content and calm actually sparks butterflies in her stomach as she slowly pads out of her tent to sit near him.

A smile stretches out across her face as she rests an elbow on each thigh and then leans on her hands, looking him over. This isn't the big bad Birvor that lashes out and always has something to sass her about--though she's sure she'll see that side of him soon enough now that she's become his captive audience. More than that, she's looking at him with that sappy look on her face: the one she's sure he knows by now leads more towards flirting than it does sassing him for the Hell of it.

"I didn't know you were a MUSICIAN, Birvor..." she started gently, wiggling her eyebrows at him a little. "Were you keeping it a secret so I wouldn't compliment you?" Though, she probably should have asked more questions about his lute to begin with and maybe she would have known earlier. Then again, this was the first time she had heard him play it--she'd thought he just liked hitting people with it when his other weapons went missing. "It's good to know you have nimble fingers..."

[yanfeisty]

That SAGAU ask for a reader that is like Double from skullgirls makes me wanna ask for a SAGAU reader that’s like Bayonetta. If you don’t know who that is then she’s a badass umbra witch with many pacts that she can summon, uses a plethora of weapons, has torture attacks (you can look those up if you want) and is usually pretty flirty her main outfit is also made of partially, if not entirely of her hair. She can also transform into some animals like a panther, a bird, and a serpent (though the upcoming version of her can turn into lesser forms of her pacts) If you wanna know more then you can look her up on like anything. You don’t have to answer this ofc if you don’t wanna then delete this pls. But if so then can you pls do HC with the archons and the adepti and harbingers reaction to readers fighting and summoning pls?

Genshin sagau Hcs | Bayonetta!Reader

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : Childe, Ei, La Signora, Xiao x Bayonetta!Creator!Reader

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : You're a playful witch/wizard with mysterious powers, let's see how your acolytes act with you and your powers.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : Religious theme.

𝐀/𝐍 : I do in fact know her! While I don't play her games, I find her so cool and her in sagau is interesting. Thx for requesting that, hope you'll enjoy!

Masterlist

⠀‣ Childe

. He's beyond grateful that you were guiding him during battles, but that now that he can actually fight by your side, he's all the more excited. Especially when he learns that you have cool and unique abilities. You have guns as shoes and use your hair for fighting? That's interesting...He'll applause the originality.

. He really wants to fight but most of the time he ends up admiring you, and can you blame him? He finally gets a chance to see you in action, and he isn't disappointed to say the least, watching you summon deadly weapons while mocking the enemy, is a truly fascinating performance.

. Since you're the flirty type, he isn't afraid to do it back. In the middle of battle, kicking butts, unashamed to throw random flirts and tease each other, while the enemy is either mad or disgusted by you, but you'll both shut them down with a combo. You make a terrifying duo, as you synchronize perfectly.

. You'll absolutely have competition of who will have the highest body count, or who is the coolest while doing it, you may impress him and he may not have such unique abilities like yours, but don't underestimate him, he dedicated all his life to battles, and he also got some sass in him. He also made a challenge to try to beat you, defeating a witch god was now is ultimate life goal. he's still trying to this day.

⠀‣ Ei

. An umbra witch? How interesting, she never heard of them and their powers before, of course in this world you're one of a kind, so please tell her more about you, from how do your powers work or how did you learn them, if you don't know, she'll be glad if you showed her.

. And whe she's finally seeing you fight, well, she couldn't expect less from you, transforming into majestic and demonic creatures, punishing those for blasphemy with torture devices directly from hell they'll soon meet. All with graceful and perfectly controlled movements, she admires your quick reflexes the most, as it's also one of her strength that she's glad she shares it with you, you're surely one of the best fighter in Teyvat and maybe she could learn from you, so she can satisfy you with her technique, though she knows she could never compare.

. She is the type to be serious, and especially when she fights, but when it comes to your flirty personality, she may respond awkwardly, flustered by your behavior towards her, but she doesn't let her guard down, shutting down the enemy who dared to mock her rosy cheeks. Please, don't embarrass her further, and keep the flirts for moments when you're only together.

⠀‣ La Signora

. You're terrifying together, both a dominant type, loving the same kind of outfit and sometimes, around a cup of hot tea, shaming others that annoy you. You get along very well and no one wants to be the next subject of your discussion.

. She's very interested in your kind, you're more powerful than the Tsarista herself, and have powers coming from another world. Don't think she just wants to flatter you, having you at her side and the Fatui would really benefits them, but as someone she worships, she's proud to say she's in your good grace, she doesn't hesitate to brag about it with vanity to the others Harbingers and enjoy their jealousy.

. Whoever ask for a fight with you both, ask for a painful death, they're no match. She likes your sense of mockery, witty remark and dramatic dances, leaving people no chances but also humiliated, plus, with your back and forth teasing between each other, which make them unsettled and easier to distract.

⠀‣ Xiao

. He's questioning the usefulness of having guns on your shoes and hair as your combat outfit and powers, isn't it unconfortable? And if you use your hair to summon, what about your outf-. But, seeing you in action, makes him loose all of his doubts, you're able to control your movements and technique perfectly. It puts him in relief to see you can protect yourself if somehow he isn't here.

. He isn't so sure about the source of your powers coming from demons, you aren't being manipulated are you? And what do they want in return. He'll stay silent but go reassure him about this, because he can't help but worry a bit.

. Like Ei, he is a bit embarrassed by how you act, let's say, you're very confident with yourself, maybe a bit too much in his opinion, but he's just saying this because he is all blushy, and he doesn't like to show that part of himself, he'll scold you a bit on how you should take this more seriously. And if you respond with another flirt, you can call his name all you want, he'll stay hidden and give you the silent treatment.