#. .. I am Going to his factory. Even just for old time’s sake

[leshytwo]

Should I fret over him like this .

[bunji-enthusiast]

Hello again! I am that Anon that requested the Reader is a Smiling Critter and blah blah, I need more and thank you for making these, my heart is filled <3

This is gonna be quite detailed, feel free to change it!

Note: This might be a lil ooc or perhaps more of an AU?? Ah yes, Dogday's legs aren't gone, still attached just for the sake of the nature of the dynamics here.

The reader is a Smiling Critter once again, they had a dream about their old friends ( ex: Smiling Critters or maybe the other toys ). After they woke up in tears, soon they decided to go around the factory in hopes of finding the mini toy versions of their old friends, something to hopefully lessen the ache in their heart. Yeah, they also forgot to tell Catnap where they went and uh the living mini toys noticed their absence and reported it to Catnap 💀

Catnap ain't happy about it, he finishes up whatever he was doing and went on to find the Reader himself ( we're special jk- ). Later, he finally found them, whatever he felt at that time came to halt as he saw the Reader sitting down on the floor, in a pile of toy versions of their old friends, HIS old friends, their old friends, silently weeping to themselves. Without a second thought, he curled up around the reader, patting their head as if to silently reassure them it'll be okay, Catnap was actually genuine about it though the reader knew that it's not that simple ( with the whole prototype and how Catnap just listens to him 💀 ). But in their sadness and loneliness, they let their guard down and sink into the giant cat's affection, feeling nostalgic as they remember they always used to do this during naptime, with THEIR old friends.

After the reader fell into a deep sleep, Catnap decided to just stay where they were even with second thoughts in his mind, in this very moment, the old Catnap is back, not the one that follows the Prototype like a lost puppy. The Catnap his old friends know, the one Dogday knows, the one Reader knows. But he snapped back to his senses, deciding to rest his head on top of the Reader's in order to shutdown all those thoughts, purring while at it. This is ALL FOR THEM, FOR JUSTICE, TO END THE MADNESS, the Prototype promised him.

.....

Dogday is silent as he listens to his " former " friend talk about the events that occured a few hours ago. Catnap has decided to visit Dogday, free him from the belts to eat the food he brought. Dogday silently took the food and ate them as he listens Catnap's talk, understandably hesitant to butt in. It was more than weird, Catnap changed so suddenly and drastically, but recently he was softer, more like the old Catnap, albeit still threatening.

" Dogday... " That made the giant dog snapped out of his thoughts upon hearing his name, his eyes met with Catnap's. Before letting out a surprised yelp as the cat pounced on him, Dogday was terrified for his fate until he felt long arms curled around him. Catnap was hugging him tightly. Read that again. Hugging him. The so-called heretic. Dogday now knows what his friend ( Reader ) felt when Catnap helps them get back to sleep.

This is the Catnap they knew, the actions speak louder than words one, he wasn't truly gone after all.

Night Befallen

Note || I cast brain rot upon ye 🤲

WC || 1,384

Sypnosis || Maybe, just maybe knowing what one can know now—your old friend isn’t entirely stolen away from you.

You had found yourself immersed in a poignant dream, revisiting cherished memories of old friends. Awaking with tears lingering on your lashes, you felt an insistent pull to embark on a heartfelt quest. Determined to reconnect with the essence of your past, you resolve to venture into the depths of the factory, in search of the miniature toy replicas of your beloved originals. With each step forward, anticipation intertwined with nostalgia, guiding your path through the echoes of your cherished history.

You just wished things had truly stayed the same, why did it all happen before–this, Hour of Joy–whatever it had been. CatNap, the same cat you came to cherish and love had been completely twisted, viewing Prototype as a god?

It just made no sense to you, everything is madness.

For now, perhaps you could absolve in finding peace with your recreational little toys, shadows of former friends they may be of course. 

“Tch-” You snorted, trying to keep yourself from breaking down in the face of your tiny little friends that are piling up around you. Just like all the old times before, the times… before. All the tiny smiling critters were just plain adorable though, so that was advantageous. 

Beyond the shadows, some creeping figures watching you took notice of your absence. No, not in CatNap’s home, nothing goes one without CatNap knowing of anything. 

A small critter skittered away, you didn’t notice—you were far in too deep to properly take recognition of anything happening, only mourning your former friends. Who knew trying to take a look at the essences of your past, a past of once where you were happy, content. You were just doing your job as a fellow critter, you loved your job. You loved being a critter, you loved your friends.

“You guys are so cute..” You smile softly, hugging them close in spite of the few stray tears streaming down your face. Normally, you’d wipe them away, but right now you just wanted to stay in the moment. 

Stay with all your old friends, even if they weren’t your real ones. 

You could be allowed the peace of illusion, atleast.

To say he was furious was an understatement, what had the tiny critter meant by your absence? 

In CatNap’s eyes, this was unacceptable. 

One should remain where they are, they are not to derail from their paths. You shouldn’t be derailing from your path. No matter the reason, he will quickly finish his patrolling, and come straight to you to put you in your place. Mostly, being stern. 

Should he allow you that courtesy? Yes, CatNap should. You are his old friend, you were so kind as to work with the Prototype (even if you were completely against it), CatNap will be lenient with you. 

Suddenly CatNap had gotten lost in thought, and lifted his paw to see what he was doing. Oh yes, he was killing a human survivor for their incompetence – that is what was happening. He repeatedly shook his paw to get the remains of the human off his claws and paw as well, the blood remained on his fur unfortunately. CatNap can find some way to clean that off later.

As if he was sighing, CatNap’s mouth emitted a large breath of Poppy Gas, something of which he used sparsely; only when he wanted to block out people from areas he didn’t want them in. CatNap admittedly felt as if what he was doing here was wrong, but it was only in the name of the Prototype. 

CatNap finally went on his way once he cleared his head of these troubling thoughts, he was going to deal with you and he wouldn’t delay it any longer.

He always had eyes all around Playcare, did you really think you could get away with this so easily? Prototype is leader, god. He would not allow anyone to defile Prototype’s name, not even you.

No matter, he was going to make this quite clear.

It seemed the small smiling critters had felt his immense aura for bloodlust, causing them to skitter away from whence he came. CatNap without a shadow of a doubt, can be terrifying. 

CatNap simply paid no mind, and continued on making his way toward you. 

Even in all the rubble and dust, one clear distinction his keen ears could pick up was reminiscent of crying. To the normal ear, one would not be able to hear this. It was so silent, was it out of a fear that you were crying so silently?

No, it was because of the smiling critters, the smaller bodies. Merely replicas, but so well done for just being copies of the original critters. Shadows always danced in CatNap’s headspace, perhaps he could make it out the same within your case. He had always crossed his heart, locking it away in soul and key. CatNap deemed it all unnecessary. Yet, with you it was recurring.

Slowly enough, whatever emotions – whatever anger he had before was fading away. CatNap was overcome with a sense of sympathy, he wanted to comfort you, his friend. Now he just came to a complete halt, trying to figure out what was wise on what to do. 

CatNap felt pitiful, sounding low when he remembered those very screams. 

You have seen just as much as he did.

Hesitantly, he stepped forward, CatNap didn’t want to frighten you out of your stupor. His long elongated tail wrapped around your being, calmly re-adjusting you with a steady stance. CatNap laid down, folding his back legs and crossing his front ones. He so suddenly cuddled up against you, patting your head to reassure you silently. 

You nodded your head, snapping to the attention of CatNap’s presence. You knew otherwise that he wasn’t being as genuine, in spite of it being real in his eyes. 

Otherwise, you didn’t feel as on guard. You weren’t stressed or protesting in any case, you felt as if you were falling asleep. You began to fall asleep, CatNap sensed this, curling up against you to feel more comfortable. 

That was in your sadness and loneliness, had sleep finally claimed you – purely out of nostalgia that you had used to do this during naptime, with your old friends. 

Abornormally enough, he didn’t feel so angry. CatNap felt more as if he was at peace with you, even with these thoughts. How the Prototype had promised him justice, to end all the madness, just for you… for all of them. 

In a moment soon enough, CatNap had promptly followed you into sleep. 

If death was a choice, then he rejects it.

Silent and contemplative, DogDay listened as his "former friend" recounted the recent events, memories of comforting you when tears flowed and offering solace in the embrace of sleep. CatNap's unexpected visit and the subsequent act of liberation from his restraints were met with wary acceptance as DogDay consumed the offered sustenance, his attention captured by CatNap's unusual demeanor.

It was a peculiar sight, witnessing CatNap revert to a semblance of his former self amidst the oppressive atmosphere of their surroundings. Despite the underlying threat that lingered in CatNap's presence, there was a glimmer of familiarity in his actions, stirring a sense of unease within DogDay's battered psyche.

“This isn’t his usual behavior,” or “He’s just now had a revelation?” 

Lost in his thoughts, DogDay was abruptly pulled back to reality by the mention of his name, a sharp reminder of the precariousness of his situation. Anticipation coiled within him as CatNap lunged forward, bracing for the inevitable retribution that awaited him. Yet, to his astonishment, instead of aggression, he was enveloped in an unexpected embrace.

Stunned and bewildered, DogDay felt the weight of CatNap's arms around him, a gesture of affection that defied all expectations. In that fleeting moment of connection, DogDay experienced a revelation, a glimpse into the profound bond shared between you and CatNap, a bond forged amidst the chaos and strife of your shared existence.

As the echoes of their encounter lingered in the air, DogDay found himself grappling with newfound understanding. The warmth of CatNap's embrace, though fleeting, offered a glimpse of redemption amidst the shadows of his past transgressions. And in that moment, DogDay realized the profound impact of companionship, transcending the boundaries of fear and prejudice.

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

You're Always Going To Mean Something - Charles Leclerc

<word count - 695>

"Not right now Charles, OK?" you said, unable to look at him. You weren't really able to look at him much anymore, even if he was once the only thing you wanted in your line of sight. Well, that was still the case, but the situation was vastly different.

"Please, I just need help with the last few notes, that's it. I wouldn't ask if I thought someone else could do a better job," he said, always having to lace a compliment into his words like a well thought out stitch in a garment.

"Message Sofiane, I'm sure he'd be happy to help," you said, still busying yourself with 'tidying' the papers on your desk back at the factory in Maranello.

"He's busy, and we already-"

"And you don't think I am?" you asked, still shuffling around with the random papers that had no real meaning to you or your work. They were simply something to look at instead of looking at him, and you could feel his eyes as they bore into your side profile.

"That's not what I meant and you know that," he sighed, leaning on the side of your desk as if he were trying to get your full attention instead of the papers. "I'm not asking for it now, but maybe later?" he continued.

"Charles, I can't, OK?" you said, putting the stack of papers that you had in your hands in a random drawer that just happened to be empty. When you had done that, you stood in front of him, actually looking at him instead of avoiding eye contact.

"Why not?" he pressed, crossing his arms.

"I don't have time, sorry," you said, looking down at your hands that you were fidgeting. Charles knew what you were actually saying, and he understood to an extent. But, you'd never actually denied him of your time.

"For old times sake? You started the song, it's only right that you be the one to finish it," he said, still trying to convince you, but not quite succeeding. You stayed silent, unsure of what to tell him, what excuse to make to get him to drop it.

He knew you were concealing what you were feeling, he knew what made you tick. But, he thought you were getting annoyed at his constant badgering. However, he also knew that this song did mean a lot to you.

"Is it not always going to mean something to you? Like you said it would?" he pried, and you were having to bite back what you wanted to say. But that became increasingly harder as the man you loved stood there, still wanting things from you when he had decided he didn't want you.

"You're always going to mean something to me, Charles," you mumbled, and his breath caught in his throat as he heard your words.

"I... see," he responded, unsure of what to say, exactly. "Why... What... What happened to us?" he quietly asked, seemingly already knowing the answer, but he wanted to hear it from you. Well, he knew precisely what happened, because it was all his fault.

"You said you didn't love me anymore..." you whispered so quietly that he couldn't even hear what you said, but he knew because he already knew what you were going to say.

"I did say that, didn't I?" he asked, but the question was completely rhetorical. Expecting an answer but just be plain cruel.

"You sure did," you confirmed with a nod as your voice cracked. You weren't going to stand there and cry in front of him, that was for sure, so you turned and walked away, leaving him leaning against your desk.

To be frank, Charles felt like a complete fool. Not loving you anymore? It was utter bullshit. He thought he must have been a mad man to say that, and he couldn't think of any reason that he would actually want to break up with you, so why did he?

He didn't know that, but he knew you were always going to mean something to him. 

A/N - Oooh your girl is on it! Don't get used to it lovelies... I don't know if this is going to last much longer. Have a wonderful day/evening, love y'all 💖

|masterlist|this made me feel something|

[miiilowo]

Hey Milo, follow-up question regarding In the Flesh: why does this exist.

(Like genuinely why are there FNAF books. Is it a sales thing? AFAIK the lore is different in some ways and none of it is directly referenced in any of the games, where did the books come from? WHO WROTE THESE)

i dont. know..........

The FNAF books originally began as a main-line novel series. While still being sort of insane, they were...relatively? grounded; You had your main cast characters investigating an old Freddy's location. Hijinks ensue, alongside sexy robot clones of people that turn into sexier versions of already existing robots but im getting ahead of myself

The original novels aren't supposed to directly line up with the FNAF game timeline in any sense, and are more like an alternate universe that provides information to fill up holes and gaps in the lore of the games. And to get Scott Cawthon money of course

The other book series (Tales of The Pizzaplex & Fazbear Frights) fill the same niche, but instead of being a direct line of novels they're more like goosebumps books. they're anthologies. they have absolutely nothing holding them together, and they get batshit insane. i am wholly convinced that most of the people involved in these projects have no idea what fnaf even is on a base level, aside from "fucked up haunted robots at a pizzeria kill people"

some of them have good concepts, but are executed poorly. most of the time, they have bad concepts and are executed badly. sometimes they accidentally write what looks like intentional anti-trans allegories. sometimes a girl accidentally kills her friend in a...freddy fazbears pizza factory, only for her friend to only kind of be dead and for there to be like, two of her for some reason. sometimes they have springtrap mpreg. sometimes a kid's flesh gets replaced by sea monkeys that resemble bonnie. and of course lest we not forget FAZ GOO whatever the fuck FAZ GOO is

there's only one story that sort of feels FNAF to me, which would be one called bunny call. it mimics (ha. hahahahah. ha. sorry you wouldnt get that) the gameplay loop in a sense at one point, with a father trying to keep his family safe from an intruder as he makes a mad dash around the cabin, not letting it get in any of the entrances. that's all fine and good, but the COVER ART DOESN'T EVEN MATCH WHAT'S DESCRIBED IN THE BOOK ASIDE FROM IT BEING A CARTOON RABBIT

whatever purpose the books originally had has sort of been entirely lost and spun into it's whole separate universe with vague fnaf allusions, existing almost entirely to make money. at least, thats how fazbear frights was. what's worse is tales of the pizzaplex, a series in which you absolutely 100% cannot understand anything happening in security breach without reading them, and feels more like a band-aid solution to the absolutely abysmal storytelling and lore that game didn't get to execute. i could go on for hours and hours about SB's cut content and story, but thats not the point here

i've yet to find a diehard fnaf fan who actually enjoys these things. which, i suppose, makes sense, since theyre more targeted toward children (which is odd considering all the extreme body horror in almost every single book, when you remember they wouldnt let vanny have her knife in SB for the sake of family friendliness) but it doesn't change the fact that theyre just absolutely fucking nuts and incoherent

i typed out way more than i wanted to here but ive been thinking about the books a LOT recently. i thought the sci-fi angle the main novels took was bad, unaware of the world of terror i was about to unleash by checking these out

[atinydetective]

ATEEZ universe part 2

⋐DIARY BOOKS

A Intro: The time passing by, our dreams.

With this page, they told us that the factory they use as a bunker-hideout was waiting for us after passing the maze. If you pass the entrance you can hear some familiar beats. It’s their own place that separates them from the adult world.

Now here, before we make a commitment to compromise about our path, it's the moment before we opened that Door.

01 Hongjoong: I don’t want to be forgotten as if I never existed.

People on TV that can be seen from everywhere like a bright star. Hongjoong wants to become a bright star like them. Even if it were by coincidence his family can notice him if he shines.

And in the photo Hongjoong has blue hair.

02 Seonghwa: She, who was dancing to the beat.

The moment Seonghwa saw the girl was the exit from reality for him. And the girl left a bracelet that says “Be free.” Even when Seonghwa went back there another day to find her again, she didn't come back.

But something inside Seonghwa has changed!!

03 Yunho: Weather is clear.

Like how Dear Diary starts it has the same title: Weather is clear. There must be a connection but for now let’s continue.

“Weather is so good as well.” Almost in every world members live they emphasize the world kinda has an oppressive air with the exception of Yunho.

And Hongjoong looks like his brother.

Also he is holding a pencil in the photo.

04 Yeosang:Just like a midsummer night’s dream.

İnteresting.

We learn that even though he doesn't really like it, he is good at mechanics. And this skill gave him a chance to escape from the cycle his parents declared for him. This gives the result of him and the member's meeting.

These words come from his mind are just narrated in the Dear Diary intro. They use exactly the same sentences to show this to readers. Also he was the one talking in the intro of the diary.

I think Yeosang’s part will be important in this series.

05 San: I don’t know.

As soon as he gets closer to someone, becomes friends, his family keeps moving from somewhere to there for an unknown reason. And this time he needs to talk about this with members.

06 Mingi: The sound of his laughter

Who would laugh at a child because of this state?

In his poverty life music was the key to open his dream’s door. His one and only friend Wooyoung also became a key for meeting with the members in the factory for him. His dream to our dream. But these moments full of laughter and cries, can he really have dreams?

Which laughter he will choose is the question.

07 Wooyoung: It’s different this time.

In his webtoon card he said that “I’m only going to think about one thing now.”

“My mind has completely gone blank. Who am I? Where am I?” When he got shy on performing in a crowd he kinda lost his thought, just blank. So losing consciousness

He has this potential to repeat..

08 Jongho: I had it all planned.

After his injury he had to face his lifeless eyes in the mirror. Because he lost all his planned life. And when Mingi also wanted to leave the group with lifeless eyes like his past, he couldn’t stop himself but punch him.

So the lost friend in his webtoon card was Mingi.

Z Outro: Into the New World

A man who wears black fedora starts to come and communicate with Hongjoong from the moment they separate their own worlds, lifes.

Cromer which is the key between worlds, now it’s in Hongjoong’s hand. And members went back to the old factory at the time, for the sake of their shared dream.

They communicate in dreams but the item black fedora who actually look so similar give Hongjoong is in real world. Then can we call the dream an illusion or a limbo?

Let’s see members who all -expect San Wooyoung and Jongho- wear the “Be free” bracelet we saw in Seonghwa’s card, do!

[muiltifandomnerd]

Adventures of Chika Hanabusa: The Restoration of Earth

Disclaimer: This book follows the events of Percy Jackson and Heros of Olympus fanfic, this fanfic will not include Trails of Apollo, The Kane Chronicles, and Magnus Chase.

Chapter 21: Earth Being A Cranky Old Lady

Gaia PoV

I had awakened from my nap, still trapped in that girl’s body. Her self-consciousness seems very pure with many flowers like roses, sunflowers, daisies, and even cacti. The landscape is forever a sunny day. It is impressive but it is still a prison. This girl, Chika Hanabusa, is painfully naive when it comes to understanding evil, but I sense no malice from her compare to her kind. I would have pity demigods for they are slaves to the gods, if they didn’t defeated my children and I in the war. I can respect the fact that they are braver than the gods and have the gall to face me. How can demigods be so content to fight for uncaring beings? After all, they have neglected to take care of my body and focus on making bastards with mortals. Humans are awful too, they have polluted my domain with their factories and have wage wars with each other since they were created by Prometheus, my grandson. Speaking of humans, I can sense the girl has appeared in this realm.

“Hi I assume you have woken up, I want to talk to you?" The human girl, Chika appears, with her green shorts and a floral design tanktop, I'm assuming these clothes are what is considered sleepwear.

“What makes you think I want to talk to you mortal?” I sneered, that gall of this girl to demand my audience.

“If you don’t want to talk to me that’s fine but I do want to understand you.” The girl naively says. I just bitterly chuckle, how can a human even attempt to comprehend a being such as myself?

"Know your limits, girl, how can you think of such a thing?" I coldly say and the air has become a bit colder, I see so this place can change this girl and my emotions.

“You’re right, I can’t understand you since I’m a human and you are the planet. I do want to make this world a better place and I do want to end pollution in some way. I do want to stop animals from becoming extinct thanks to my kind actions. I do need your guidance.” Chika bows in the grass. I came out under the grass and formed a humanoid form. The grass has covered my body and hair is loose around my head. The human looks at me in awe, it seems she can sense my power.

“You seem aware of human wickedness and yet you dare pester me with these false promises, tsk just say you want my power to wage your stupid wars," I say in an irritated tone, I'm not going to hear it from her, she's no different from her kind. Greedy, treacherous, violent, revolting primates.

“No I don’t want your powers at all, I just want to help the planet the best way I can. I’m very limited but I am passionate about preserving the environment. I just want to make things right.” Chika exclaimed while she sat on her knees in front of me.

“You can’t make things right, you are just one stupid demigod. Your kind has hurt me for all too long. Your kind are nothing but a bunch of selfish ingrates, who destroyed my body beyond repair. Your kind has made zero contributions to making my realm better. Now get out of my sight before I will kill you." I say loudly, this human is making me angry. She has been wasting my time, saying all this feel-good rubbish. ‘oh, I want to help you, I’m a good person’, she just scum like all the rest.

“You’re right, I’m a stupid demigod who is way over her head. But at least I’m not a bitter old hag like you, you just give up on us. I guess I can’t blame you, my kind have taken you for granted and we have exploited you for our gain for far too long. I do want to help you, but not at the cost of killing my kind. Look I will leave now, someday I hope you can open your heart to me and we can become friends. I just want to say on behalf of my entire species, that we are sorry and that we will do better for your sake." Chika says while her presence is gone away from me.

Good riddance, this girl is way over her head. I’m not going to get duped with her small promises. Is she right about me being a bitter old hag? Great now I'm being self-conscious about this. Why did she just apologize to me? What game is she playing? Was she being sincere?  I didn't detect any lies from her. I don't know what to do with her or even what I should feel about her. I can say that she's annoying, I'm going to sleep. I'm too old for this do-goody nonsense.

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

Hi! If it’s not too much, could I request a matchup for One Piece and Hikyuu?

Pronouns: She/her

Sexuality: Demi

Zodiac/MBTI: Scorpio, INFJ-T

Appearance: 5’1”, Mid length blonde hair, very pale skin, light freckles across my nose, green eyes, slightly chubby

Personality: Due to being neurodivergent, I am incredibly guarded when I meet someone new…if my RBF isn’t scaring them off then my silence probably will! In all honesty, I’m just not used to people wanting to interact with me and I don’t know what to talk about- small talk has never been my strong suit plus I don’t know what kind of common ground we have. It makes finding topics to talk about difficult, but I make a great listener! I won’t really open up until I’ve met you a few times and I can tell that you won’t judge me, only then do I get a bit louder with my responses and start making little jokes (I might even tease someone every now and again! You have to be really special to me for that to happen though…) Stick with me long enough and you’ll get to see me for the clumsy, overdramatic, passionate goof that I actually am. I am the ultimate ride or die for those I care for and I want to make sure they know I care for them!!

Likes and dislikes: I love food (literally the least picky eater I know), looking at the stars, old movies, Star Trek, sunflowers, nicknames, greens/blues/yellows, bugs. My absolute favorite thing to do is laugh (it’s not hard to make me laugh, I am quite giggly. I also kind of like the sound of my own laugh, especially if you can get me to snort lol). I dislike large crowds, anything orange flavored, and when someone turns the tv up too loud.

Hobbies: Baking, sewing, writing, being terrible at video games but the best at card games

Extra info: I am quite literally the type to get deep red and have to spend 10 minutes factory resetting at the slightest hint of affection, I am not used to it at all. I will actually turn into goo, but please don’t stop, I secretly love it.

Thank you so much in advance!!

Hi Galaxy! Thank you for your request! Sorry it took so long. I am currently up to episode 447 (Impel Down) of One Piece, so please keep that in mind while reading. I hope you like your matchups!

In One Piece, I match you with...

Sanji balances you out nicely. For all your guarded, difficult to approach, somewhat standoffish personality traits, he’s there to counter it, for both your sake and others.

Will give you bouquets at every possible opportunity and always does his best to include sunflowers in there somewhere.

Always makes sure to remove orange flavouring from your food. If there’s a recipe that calls for it, he’ll make them normally but leave a few aside minus the orange so you can enjoy them as well.

If you thought you were ride or die, you clearly haven’t met Sanji. This guy takes loyalty to a whole other level. He’s never going to leave your side if he has anything to do with it.

Will pour all of his affection onto you, especially since he knows you secretly like affection and being flustered. He’s all over it, you’ll never feel neglected when he’s around!

In Haikyuu, I match you with...

Kuroo is another good match for you since I think you’re actually quite similar. The only difference is that Kuroo is a bit more outgoing than you.

He strikes me as someone who is neurodivergent as well so he can certainly empathise with you. If you’re the kind of person to infodump, he will eagerly return the favour, especially if you share interests.

Speaking of interests, I can definitely see Kuroo as someone who likes Star Trek and old movies. He finds them interesting and likes comparing them to modern films to see how much technology has improved.

I see Kuroo as someone who doesn’t mind being in big crowds but he’s also more than happy to help you avoid them if you prefer.

He’s a lot more subtle in his affection than Sanji but that doesn’t mean he won’t still fluster you. He’s got a way with words that seems to come out of nowhere and will leave you speechless.

[crowtrobotx]

Let your followers love you and write us a ficlet of Karl trying to get Lottie to eat her least favorite food.

This is my first time posting one of these, pls be gentle lol. But thank you very much for sending this, and thank you for your patience! I am old and always tired. And sorry for any bad/weird formatting, I am having a Boomer Moment™️ on mobile and can’t figure out how to do anything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Beets Me

Characters: Karl Heisenberg, Original character (daughter)

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None, unless you count swearing and an old man negotiating with a child.

Word count: 1068

Humiliating.

That was the only word that came to mind - Karl Heisenberg was a Lord, a nigh indestructible and powerful demigod who instilled awe and terror in all who stumbled across his path. He could make life from death, had built machines the likes of which no one in world had seen or would ever see again, and for God’s sake he could wield a fucking lightning hammer. He had worked incredibly hard for all of these things, for his reputation, which made the fact that he was currently being bested by his own personal tiny tyrant all the more miserable.

“Lottie,” he called not for the first time, his tone even but with a twinge of desperation. His latest soldat was due to wake up soon, and he preferred to be present lest the stupid things felt the need to have a destructive existential crisis upon realizing they were decidedly not dead anymore. He searched about what passed as the living room, grimacing internally at all of the not-so-childproof items carelessly strewn about.

Is that a rusty bone saw— nope, better not think about it.

He’d already checked all of the kid’s usual hiding places, and it would have been a lie to say there wasn’t a twinge of panic beginning to worm its way up his throat. Most of the horrors that lurked outside and below couldn’t reach her here, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t leave of her own accord - and there was one person he knew he couldn’t stop, not until his army was finished. Not that he trusted a damn thing dearest Mother said, but she’d sworn she wouldn’t take Lottie - she wasn’t a suitable vessel, she’d made that abundantly and infuriatingly clear.

At last, two little grey-blue eyes appeared from beneath a milk crate stashed under one of the many workbenches that littered the factory. Karl quirked a brow, amusement and relief playing on his lips. After a small squeak of alarm, Lottie disappeared just as quickly back into the shadows - as if it would change the fact that she’d been undeniably caught.

Karl snorted, his knees cracking in protest when he begrudgingly knelt to her level. It was fortunate she was cute - the frankly embarrassing amount of shenanigans she got away with made him feel ridiculous. He barely remembered his own father but he knew that he sure as shit wouldn’t have taken this lying down from his own son. Lucky Lottie, he wasn’t his father. He tossed his hat aside and ran a hand through his wiry hair, waiting for her to reappear.

And reappear she did, squishing her nose up against the plastic to get a better view. Stifling a laugh when he saw the rebellious and familiar expression his daughter boasted, Karl knocked politely on the top of the crate. “Anybody home?”

“No.”

“No? Then who’s talkin’?”

A pause. “…Not Lottie, that’s for sure”

Heisenberg sighed, removing his trademark glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Well, Not Lottie, you still have to eat dinner, I’m afraid. I’m running behind already and don’t have time for hide and seek right now.”

The little demon glared out in defiance from the baby jail of her own design. “I hate beets.”

Ah. So she’d seen the cans he’d set on the counter earlier in the day. Observant.

“Yeah, not my favorite either,” he conceded, “but Duke ain’t due back here until tomorrow and it’s dark out. I don’t want to go stomping out there to shake down the village grocer just because you’re being picky.”

Not that he hadn’t been conned into doing that before. Not that there hadn’t been at least three separate occasions where he’d found himself crossing the ancient bridge that separated the Heisenberg Factory from the rest of town and audibly yelled “What the fuck am I doing” to no one in particular. Not that he hadn’t always found it completely worthwhile to see Lottie’s little face light up when he returned with a bag of goodies for the two of them.

“It’s not just beets, y’know,” he attempted to reason with her. “I’m not a monster. There’s some, uh…. Meat of some sort, too.”

Lottie groaned. “But what if the beets touch everything else! They’ll ruin it! Can’t you call the supersized bi—”

“No, absolutely not,” the Lord had never answered a question so quickly in his life. “Although it would be pretty funny to piss her off with a takeout order from those ridiculous kitchens of hers, I think I got on her last mega nerve at the meeting yesterday and she might actually try to kill me this time. Then what’d you do? You might have to live with her. And wear dresses.”

Lottie gasped in horror.

They sat in silence for a moment after, clearly at a standstill. The ambient noises of the factory were much fainter here, amounting to little more than distant humming. Karl could practically hear the gears in that little head of hers overheating while she tried to think of a way out of Beet Hell.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said at last, “you suffer through this hideous torment tonight, and I’ll make it up to you with extra good stuff from the Duke tomorrow. Sound good?” He threw in a good natured wink for added effect.

Lottie drummed her fingers on the floor, her nose scrunching while she considered the offer. “Five donuts this time,” she declared firmly.

“Three,” Karl countered.

“Four.”

“Three and I’ll throw in that new bright ass pink screwdriver you were eyeing last time.”

“Hmm,” Lottie was making an obvious show of trying to sustain the suspense. “I dunno… Maybe… I guess we have a deal.”

“Perfect,” Karl grinned. “I’d shake your hand but you’d have to come out for that.”

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’,” she grumbled, the sounds of shuffling now audible from beneath the crate.

Karl rose with a grunt, satisfied with the negotiations. He returned his shades to their proper place and glanced at the grimy old clock that hung sadly in his makeshift living quarters, relieved to see that he still had plenty of time to feed the little gremlin and get back down into the bowels of the factory.

He hadn’t made it but two steps toward the kitchen when he heard an uncertain voice call out from behind.

“Papa?”

“Yes, princess?”

“I think I’m stuck.”

[darknessawaits28]

Maxwell Roth x Jacob Frye Love Story; Soothing Syrup~

Hello my peeps! So I see that everyone enjoyed my first post of Jacob and Roth love story, so here's part 2, a even more delicious outcome for this part if I do say so myself. Hope yall enjoy! Don't forget to like, follow, and obey! :3 :3 Love yal!

Another breezy night in London, the Rooks train speeding down the tracks ever so slightly. A soft groan came from Jacob as he felt the train turn slightly to the right, nearly jolting him off the couch. "Argh, what time is it?" He asked himself, sitting up and looking out at the windows. "Hmm, not too late to catch up on conquering the last bits of London," he yawned, standing up on his own two feet and heading off the train. Jacob soon arrived at Southwark, deciding to take a mission on the secrets of the soothing syrup, and where in the world was its production line? "You're ruining my husband's life with your syrup!" "Look at him, he can barely walk and talk for heavens sake!" "Why don't you bugger off you old coop, you're scaring my customers away!" The vender yelled, trying to scare off the woman. "You can't talk to me like that you little guttling-" "What's all this then?" Jacob questioned, waving to the woman to relax and indicating to her that he would take care of this. "Sod off!" The vendor growled as he pulled out a dagger. With quick movements, Jacob slapped the dagger out of the man's hand, instantly making him run off, "If you'll excuse me madam" Jacob smiled cunningly and rushed off to catch the man. "Get back here you blundering idiot!" Jacob yelled, climbing various wooden fences and wooden poles just to catch this vendor. "Ugh the sewers, honestly?!" Jacob growled in frustration as he rushed within, trying to chase down the man. With luck, he was able to tackle the man when he appeared on the other side of the sewer. "Now that I've caught your attention, tell me where the syrup originates?!" "Okay, okay, all I know is that they make a run each day, between the gasometers and the asylum....I told you all that I know please don't hurt me!" The man was lucky was Jacob left him to find the distributer; man this was so easy! Within a few minutes, Jacob grabbed a carriage and headed off to find this distributer, his mind suddenly becoming cloudy. Roth's voice abruptly appeared in his head, "Jacob my dear boy, how does it feel to have my hand wrap around your cock?" "Fuck....it feels....so good Roth....more please!" A whimper echoed along Jacob's ear. His mind quickly returned to reality when he nearly hit another carriage on the way to finding the distributer, "Sorry!!" Jacob called back to the other carriage. "What in God's name is wrong with me" Jacob sighed in annoyance, feeling his pants already tightening at the thought of Roth. He couldn't let him distract him, he couldn't and won't be distracted like his dear sister gets when she sees Greenie. "I've got to focus, can't let Roth distract me." Using his assassin vision, Jacob found a bunch of blighters heading towards somewhere that might help him find where this soothing syrup was headed. "Let's follow them" he smirked, slapping the reigns on the horse and making it follow closely behind the blighter carriage. Once they arrived at a factory, Jacob parked the carriage a bit behind and got off; taking off his hat and pulling on his assassin hood. "Time to get information" Jacob whispered to himself, quickly sneaking towards the man that had the plan. "Oh sir didn't expect you too soon...uh..." A worker gulped worriedly as he stared into the dark eyes of the blighter. "I am here now, how is the production going?" The blighter growled as he crossed his arms. During their conversation, Jacob mysteriously snuck behind the oblivious blighter and stole the plans; getting away from the area as quickly as possible. "Huh, the man in charge of the syrup distribution runs a fighting club at the foundry...". Within minutes, Jacob had arrived at the foundry, "There he is" Jacob muttered, finding the big boss with his assassin vision. "Time to get creative" a snicker came from Jacob's lips as he grabbed an unsuspecting blighter to help him walk into the foundry unnoticed. "Hey what's ya deal, let go of me!" "Shh, we're good friends now, don't try anything or I'll make sure you'll pay with your life" Jacob warned the guard.

The two quickly entered the foundry with zero hassle, "Ah, there he is." "Who are you even looking for?" The blighter asked worriedly, gasping for air when he felt Jacob choke him out. "That's right, time to take a long nap" Jacob smirked, quickly pushing past the crowds of people looking at the fight until he grabbed the big boss. "Hey what's gong on here, let go!" "Hello, why don't we take a short walk for a bit, how does that sound?" "Unhand me you fiend!" The blighter boss yelled, but ultimately followed Jacob to the outside. "Now that we are in a quiet place, where is the syrup made, speak now or forever hold you-" "The distillery, it's the large building beside the brewery!" "Now to stop Soothing Syrup production once and for all." After the long night, Jacob decided to visit his blighter friend, Roth. "Hello Louis, lovely night isn't it?" "Mr. Roth wasn't expecting you, do you have an appointment?" "No but...I thought I was able to come and go as I please?" "Hmm" Louis grumbled as he opened the door for Jacob. "Thank you....I guess" Jacob huffed, not understanding why Louis was actin so strangely? "Yes this show will be amazing, I assure you, there will be fire, daggers flying across the stage and-" Roth's eyes soon lit up in excitement when he saw Jacob. "HA, my, my, it has been a while since you've visited Jacob, it is good to see you my dear." "Please excuse us" Roth smiled to his actors as he rushed to Jacob. "What brings you back here my boy?" "Well I wanted to see how the plans were going regarding Starrick." "The two quickly entered the foundry with zero hassle, "Ah, there he is." "Who are you even looking for?" The blighter asked worriedly, gasping for air when he felt Jacob choke him out. "That's right, time to take a long nap" Jacob smirked, quickly pushing past the crowds of people looking at the fight until he grabbed the big boss. "Hey what's gong on here, let go!" "Hello, why don't we take a short walk for a bit, how does that sound?" "Unhand me you fiend!" The blighter boss yelled, but ultimately followed Jacob to the outside. "Now that we are in a quiet place, where is the syrup made, speak now or forever hold you-" "The distillery, it's the large building beside the brewery!" "Now to stop Soothing Syrup production once and for all." After the long night, Jacob decided to visit his blighter friend, Roth. "Hello Louis, lovely night isn't it?" "Mr. Roth wasn't expecting you, do you have an appointment?" "No but...I thought I was able to come and go as I please?" "Hmm" Louis grumbled as he opened the door for Jacob. "Thank you....I guess" Jacob huffed, not understanding why Louis was actin so strangely? "Yes this show will be amazing, I assure you, there will be fire, daggers flying across the stage and-" Roth's eyes soon lit up in excitement when he saw Jacob. "HA, my, my, it has been a while since you've visited Jacob, it is good to see you my dear." "Please excuse us" Roth smiled to his actors as he rushed to Jacob. "What brings you back here my boy?" "Well I wanted to see how the plans were going regarding Starrick." "I'm still compiling it my dear, I'll let you know when they are ready." "Oh" Jacob lowly whispered. "Even so, I know you Jacob, you did not just come here to check on the plans did you?" Roth smirked, approaching the glooming assassin. "Yes I did, I do not know what you are referring t-" Jacob quickly went silent when Roth pulled him into a hungry kiss. "R-Roth" Jacob moaned, placing both his hands on his chest. "Don't let yourself get distracted Jacob, you know what we have to do" A voice ringed inside Jacob's head, instantly making him push Roth back violently. Roth, confused by this sudden gesture, fixed his suit a bit and reproached the assassin, "Are you alright my dear?" Jacob stood there, looking into Roth's eyes with confusion and anger, his cheeks instantly becoming bright red........

Couldn't fit more, come check it out here :3

[anon-e-miss]

Vault - Feint

“It’s just over here,” Barricade said, gesturing to the shattered remains of a temple. “Freak turned the crypt into his lab.”

“Strange choice,” Jazz replied.

“Not really,” Barricade replied. “It gets a wide berth. Mecha think its haunted.”

“Why would it be haunted?” Jazz asked.

“Because something like thirty mechanisms got burnt alive in the temple,” Barricade replied. “The priests were sheltering so of Straxis’ enemies. They defied his demands. So he sent them to the Pit.”

“Scrap,” Jazz cursed.

“Yeah,” Barricade huffed as he climbed over a toppled statue. Prima... probably. Ricochet grit his denta as he chased after him. “Empties wail if they get fragged up here. Their processors are too fragmented for them to really remember but they know something terrible happened here.”

“Ya don’t gotta go in,” Ricochet said. “Ya can wait outside.”

“And if the freak returns?” Barricade asked, lightly. He knew he had already one the argument.

“Frag,” Ricochet cursed. It had been a long time since Jazz had seen his twin so frustrated.

“What’s the deal, Rico?” Jazz asked. “I don’t got time for petty scrap.”

“He’s carryin’,” Rico growled. “‘N still goin’ round actin’ like he’s fit.”

“I am fit,” Barricade snapped back. “I’m carrying, not sick for frag’s sake.”

“Ori is gonna turn ya into scrap, Rico,” Jazz warned his twin. “Lettin’ yer gravid lover come out here.”

“I didn’t let’m,” Ricochet grumbled. “He just don’t listen to sense!”

“Aren’t we on a deadline?” Barricade asked. The way he spoke, the way he held his chin, Jazz saw a bit of a resemblance between this gold-faced Con and Prowl.

“‘M takin’ point,” Jazz declared. “Rico, take the rear.”

“Got it,” Ricochet replied. Barricade levelled Jazz a look and once again, Jazz could see the familial resemblance. “What made ya enlist wit the Cons?” Jazz asked as he stopped next to the Praxian.

“Sentinel,” Barricade replied. “When it was clear Megatron was going to capture Praxus, Sentinel Prime didn’t want his secret arms factory discovered. So he sent it all to the Pit.”

“Funny, ain’t heard that one before,” Jazz said.

“I heard him give the order,” Barricade replied.

“Scrap,” Jazz cursed. “Does Prowl know.”

“I’m sure he does,” Barricade said. “Considering what Megatron let happen to him, I’m going to be he decided Optimus Prime was the lesser of the available evils.”

“I don’t think he’s wrong,” Jazz replied.

“Probably not,” Barricade agreed. Jazz nodded.

“Let’s go.”

Despite the vorns that had past, the scent of melted wiring and scorched sentio-metallico still clung to the broken walls of the old temple. Jazz was not an especially religious mech but he admired the conviction of the priests who had died her, rather than bend to a tyrant. In his life, Jazz had scented death many times. As they descended into the crypt via a trapdoor that had clearly been added after the fire, Jazz scented a more recent death, the scent of stale mechfluid. He turned as he reached the bottom, turning to assure that Barricade made it safely down. From above, Ricochet gave him a look of gratitude; Jazz only nodded.

“What are you to Prowl anyways?” Barricade asked, begrudgingly accepting Jazz’s servo and he took the last, sharp step.

“A friend,” Jazz replied. “He saved my creations so I owe’m everythin’.”

“I didn’t know he had a bitlet,” Barricade said. “I didn’t know, not for certain, that he was even alive until he suddenly turned up on your side. I wouldn’t have left him to that freak.”

“I believe ya,” Jazz declared. He turned a corner, and stopped midstep. “Fraggin’ Primus.”

“What?” Barricade asked, pushing against Jazz’s arm as the saboteur raised it to stop him.

“Easy,” he said. He gesture to a jar on a shelf on the wall. “Found out what he did with Vortex’s helm.”

“Disgusting,” Barricade growled and his gold face paled.

“Easy,” Jazz cautioned him.

“I’m fine,” Barricade said, denta clenched. “They call it light-cycle sickness. Ought to’ve called it, every waking joor sickness.”

“Ori’s ruby tea’ll set ya right,” Jazz declared. Barricade stiffened. “Ya know y’re comin’ back wit us. That’s the real reason Ricochet agreed to have ya come along.”

“I figured out his plan,” Barricade agreed.

“Ya don’t wanna have a bitty in Darkmount,” Jazz said. “Ya don’t wanna risk how Megatron’ll take it, or he’d know already.”

There was a mech laid out on the table and Jazz thought it was the spiderbot’s newest kill and not an Empty this time but a warbuild, one fresh off the assembly line. But as he left Barricade, as Ricochet wrapped his arm around his lover’s waste, Jazz circled the table and he realized all at once that this was not a mech but a protoform, one whose spark chamber had never closed around a spark. Why? Jazz asked as he examined the clutter of machinery, a peace offering for Megatron, maybe? A trap? Where was the mechling? Tarantulas must have had some sort of recharge space. Perhaps he played family with the bitty... a CR chamber caught Jazz’s attention. It was small, very small. He wiped condesation from the glass and looked inside.

“What is it?” Ricochet called to him.

“A bitlet,” Jazz replied. “In suspended animation. The freak didn’t wall of the bond between Prowl ‘n his bitty, he put the bitty into stasis lock ‘n kept’m on ice all this time.”

***

Punch ignore the fleck of dirt that floated in his peripheral vision. Though he could have left the dishes to air dry, Punch picked up a dish towel the big pot, taking a moment to adjust his grip. It was a heavy pot, and he was getting on in vorns. He hummed merrily as he wiped the pot down and gave it a bit of a polish. With an audible oof, Punch hefted the pot onto the shelf. Jazz kept them up high; it reduced the number of spontaneous “concerts” the mechlings might perform. Of course, Jazz was the musical sort, they all were, and he was not afraid of noise, but Prowl, the poor spark, needed his rest. In the corner of his optic, the speck of dirt still and Punch leaned on the counter as he reached for a plate. The speck shifted course and as it seemed to fly towards him, Punch threw back his arm and let his blade fly. With a sharp ping, it lodge in the wall. Dispassionately, Punch watched his quarry try to mass shift, once, twice, legs flailing as the madmech only managed to carve his gut wound bigger.

“I figured the shiftin’ was tied to yer t-cog,” Punch declared as he walked toward’s his pinned prey, no limb insight. “Fell for the oldest trick in the book. It’s typical. The mecha who think they’re the smartest are usually utter fools.”

“Guh,” Tarantulas writhed in agony.

“I could end it hear ‘n now,” Punch said, conversationally as he watched the monster suffer. “I could slice ya clean in half ‘n go to my berth but ya know, I don’t feel tired just yet.”

He had what he needed in his subspace. You did not survive in his business, you did not keep your creations alive, if you were not prepared for absolutely anything. Punch hummed with joyful wrath as he laid a piece of foam on the table before he wrench his throwing knife from the wall. Tarantulas’ legs curled towards his abdomen and he made a high pinch keen. Unmoved, Punch pushed the tip of his knife into the foam, pinning the spiderbot like the wretched pest he was. Just to make sure there was no lucky, or unlucky escape, Punch placed his snivelling prize into a clear box, and locked it shut.

“Hey Hound,” Punch commed the scout. “Any chance ya could come o’er to Jazz’s place ‘n help me wit a project?”

“At this joor?” Hound asked. “Is Jazz, is Prowl in trouble?”

“Everyone’s fine,” Punch declared. He tapped his digits against the box. “Everyone that matters.”

It did not take long for Hound to arrive. He was alone; Mirage had his own business to contend with. Apart from Bumblebee, Hound was scene by Decepticons as the least intimidating of Jazz’s team. That was a mistake, Punch knew that Hound was lethal and when he got on someone’s scent, they were not going to escape him easily. The scout saw the hole in the wall and the trail of energon. Punch smiled as he held the box up, with the pinned spiderbot still twitching fitful on the thin blade. Hound’s expression was one of shock and Punch clucked his glossa; he was not even as old as Ratchet and these younglings acted like he was infirm. Jazz did not, but of course, Jazz knew better and he knew he would not get away with any suggestion that Punch slow down.

“I need ya to sparklin’ sit,” Punch explained. “‘N clean that bit o’ mess. What this monster did don’t earn a quick death. I’ll be back in a couple o’ joor.”

“Don’t rush on my part,” Hound replied.

There was no need to go far. Jazz’s building had a basement and within it were laundry and maintenance rooms. Sure, the maintenance room had a lock on it but it was nothing that Punch could not get passed in a few nanokliks. Everything he could need, that he did not have at servo, would be found here. Punch removed the foam from the box and began his preparations. He pinned the spiderbot’s eight legs to the foam and then carefully removed the thin knife from his thorax. He examined the t-cog and the trailing that had come out on his blade. No one needed this power. No Autobot. No Deception. Without hesitation, he used the butt of his knife’s handle to grind it into dust. There was little time to give Tarantulas the torture he deserved. Energon loss would end him soon, too soon but such was life, and death.

As Taratulas had experimented on Prowl, so to did Punch on him, to a point. He had no particular direction to the vivisection, only the desire to see the monster suffer. Punch flayed his carapace opened as he shrieked, the sound echoed throughout the maintenance room. It would do no use, there were not habsuites above them and the businesses that operated on the first floor were closed at this joor. The shrieks weakened under Punch’s cruel ministrations. He saw the monster’s spark feebly flare. There was a certain science to this work and Punch kept a close watch on the spiderbot’s spark and when it began to gutter, Punch removed the pins holding the dying mech to the foam board.

Tarantulas was too weak and too broken to take advantage; he may not even have been aware. It did not matter. He pulled a jar of fluoroantimonic acid from his subspace and taking care, he lowered Tarantulas into the superacid and watched the monster disappear. His work done, Punch replaced the lid on the jar and locked it down. Later, he would dispose of it but for the moment, he focused on cleaning any trace of energon and spider bits from the maintenance room. When his clean up was done, Punch returned upstairs. Vengeance satisfied, he was ready for his berth.

[rengokuneedshugs]

Hey could you do Karl and eithen comforting their s/o

Oh absolutely my love! here ya go! this is such a cute request!!! I set it as them walking in on their S/O having a panic attack i hope that's ok 😅

Karl Heisenberg/Ethan Winters Comforting their S/O

Karl Heisenberg

~Sneaking off in the factory is nothing new for you but when you're gone for hours is when Karl starts to get nervous. It scares him every time you sneak off let alone when it's for hours like this. In fear of you hurting yourself somehow he sets off from work, ready to search the entire factory just to find you. After 15-20 minutes of searching and even checking your room he still can't find you. Now even more worried than before he goes to the last place he could possibly think you would be. His room. Slowly he opens the door, just peeking through in case you might have fallen asleep in there. But then Karl saw you, curled up in his bed, clutching his pillow to your chest as you cry. You had told him about your panic attacks before, figuring that he should know about something so detrimental to your health but you never told him they were this bad. Slowly he opens the door just enough for him to slip through, once in the room he slips his jacket off. Now close enough to you he gently tuck his jacket onto you and curls up behind you, his arm tightly around your waist "Hey buttercup, wanna talk about it?" he asks quietly just above a whisper. Without saying a word you turn to face him and bury your head in his chest, now clutching his shirt instead. Sadly enough though the tears don't stop, they only come out more violently. Just now feeling safe enough to let it all out " Shh it's okay, I've got you now" he says just as quiet as before, rubbing circles into your back. He knew it would take some time to get you feeling better and he was going to stay with you until then.

Ethan Winters

~"Hey babe" you called out, walking towards your husband "I'm going to head upstairs and take a quick shower, I'll be back down in a few" you say as you lean up to kiss the spot by his ear that always makes him go weak. Well, that was and hour and a half ago, and your showers never take that long. Eventually Ethan gets a little worried and stands up from the small couch to head upstairs. Once he gets close enough to the bathroom he realizes he doesn't hear the water running. Gently he opens the door not all that worried if your 'decent' "Hey hon everything okay in here?" When he first looks he doesn't even notice you're there, at second glance though he sees you. Curled up in your towel, head to your knees. Once it sets in what happening he drops down quickly to look at you. of course he knew you had panic attacks, he's your husband for goodness sakes, but it doesn't mean he knows the best way to help you with them most of the time. Brushing your wet hair away from your eyes and tucking it behind your ear he wipes away a few tears along with it "Hey honeybun, it's alright i've got you" he says readying to lift you up and carry you to your shared bedroom. "Ready? 1..2..3.." he says as he lifts you up in his arms bridal style. Once by your bed he gently sits you down and presses his hands to your shoulders "Stay here for just a second" he says reassuringly as he walks over to his part of the dresser to pull out one of his old t-shirts and a pair of his boxers. As he walks back to you he kneels down in front of you to slip the boxers on you. Next he holds the edge of your towel waiting for permission to tug it away. After a second you nod and he gently pulls the towel off of you to slip his shirt on. Once done he grabs your hand to kiss your knuckles and stand back up and pull you down to lay on the bed with him. "C'mere honeybun" he says warmly. After a moment you go to lay with him letting him pull you close. He always knew the way to help you even when he didn't.

A/N: This was super fun to write! warning though its 2:40 AM and i haven't really read over this but regardless i hope you enjoyed, thanks for reading and remember the Lord loves you

[the-broken-truth]

Can I request i male reader who treats all of the lords and mother mranda like his own kids cause of his animal instincts? 🙍‍♂️🐾

(You can choose the sifter)

Broken (Chuckles): Hello, @imanewboi99 - back again to spoil me with delicious scenarios, are you? (Reads ask) A Shifter that treats The Lords & Mother Miranda like his children? Hm...I can imagine the Lords but the Lords see Mother Miranda as their mother...I'll make him Miranda's Lover - Hopefully that is good for you, my friend. As for Shifter Form... I'll make him a Caracal Cat; I like their ears and they have stubby little tails, plus cats are one of the animals I think will take in another animal's infant as their own. Now, let the words weave together!

Note: The Reader will be known as [Father].

🦇 [Alcina Dimitrescu] 🦇

When Alcina met [Father] during the Lord Meeting, she didn't like him for the simple fact he was a man but she was curious of the large feline ears he had in replacement for his human ears & they weren't just for show - he made that clear when Karl called Alcina 'Lady Super-Sized Bitch' during a Lord Meeting, causing the tall buff man to walk over to the 4th Lord and glare down at him.

His Response: "You will not refer to another Lord, your sister, and my daughter as a 'bitch' in my presence or the presence of your mother and siblings again, Karl Heisenberg or I show you the power I hold in a way you will not be fond of. Now, apologize to Alcina this minute."

When Karl didn't move fast enough, [Father] grabbed the German by his trench coat and held him high (Keep in mind that [Father] is around the same height as Alcina) with a glare on his face and snarl in his voice, "I SAID 'APOLOGIZE', YOU UNGRATEFUL BOY!'; Karl wheezed out an apology before the man placed in back on the pew, "And never...disrespect anyone of my children again, I wouldn't let any of them do it to you, Son." then he went to sit.

As time went on, [Father] would come to Castle Dimitrescu and repair any kind of structural damaging or ask Alcina if she needed anything to be delivered to the castle.

Alcina would say, "Father, you don't need to worry yourself with these petty issues."

But he would say, "As your father, I don't want my eldest daughter and granddaughters to be without. Please, let me be a good father and grandfather to you and my granddaughters, Alcina."

Alcina was touched and handed him a list of things she needed to be taken care of that no one else would do or couldn't do. Everything was done within a few hours.

When it comes to the daughters, [Father] loves them as a man would love his biological grandchildren.

He would come to the castle with gifts: A new book collection for Bela, Gadgets of Torment for Cassandra, or a new weapon for Daniela.

If the daughters were bored and had nothing to do, [Father] would turn into his Feline Form and let the daughters hunt him, but he was rather fast & which made the daughters have fun with the chase.

[Father] has a manor that is around the same size as Heisenberg's Factory and the daughters love to visit because the large man spoils them too much.

They would go every single weekend but one day, Alcina told them that they didn't need to go everything single weekend and to give [Father] some space. The daughters didn't like that and called their grandfather to complain and waited around the corner when Alcina received a call from [Father].

"Father, all I said was they don't need to be over there all of the time," Alcina explained.

"Alcina, don't say anything to me; you are lucky that I am 5 whiskey glasses in, otherwise I would come to get them myself. Call the carriage and bring me my granddaughters." He hung up after that.

Not wanting to disappoint her Father Figure, she called the carriage and delivered the daughters and she was given a case of fine wines to relax with while they were with him.

She may hate men - but [Father] was the only man-thing she would admit to caring about. Mother Miranda picked well.

🎎 [Donna Beneviento + Angie] 🎎

[Father] knew that Donna was timid & Angie was her way of communication - he didn't want to frighten her thus began their relationship with phone calls.

For the most time, he spoke to Angie and each conversation would with [Father] asking if Donna or Angie needed anything; yes, he considered Angie another person and not just a doll.

On the occasion that they did need something, he would go purchase what they needed and let it on the porch of Beneviento Manor, knocked on the door, and stepped away; he knew that Donna was scared of his height.

One day, he was delivering some Doll Parts Donna asked for, he did his normal routine and was about to leave when Angie called out and asked if he wanted to come in for tea. He accepted.

He shrunk himself to be a more acceptable height for Donna and the three of them had tea and conversation.

Donna became more adjusted to his presence and would call him herself - without Angie - and ask if they would have tea, make dolls together, or work in the garden together.

One day, he came with an eyepatch with the Crest of House Beneviento stitched into it as a way to cover the scar but not her whole face.

At the next meeting, she wore it.

Salvatore complimented her on it and she said 'Father made it for me.'

He smiled.

🐟 [Salvatore Moreau] 🐟

Salvatore was curious about [Father] but was too nervous to talk to him - thinking he was going to be mean or make fun of him his appearance. Imagine his surprise when [Father] wanted up to him and smiled before saying, 'Hello, Salvatore. It's nice to meet you, son.".

Salvatore looked at him with wide eyes - he thought of Salvatore as a son? He didn't make fun of him?

Salvatore and [Father] would talk whenever they saw each other at the Lord Meetings but one day, [Father] asked to spend a day with his son because he never got to learn about him.

Salvatore was nervous but agreed.

When [Father] arrived at Salvatore's Territory, he was displeased that his son was living in such poor conditions and he vowed to do something about it and his son's vomiting.

The two of them spent hours watching movies together and eating cheese & fish while Salvatore told [Father] everything about him.

One day, Salvatore was surprised to see his father building a new house on steady ground and told Salvatore that it was his new home because he was not gonna let his Lord and Son live in poor conditions like that. Salvatore was also informed that there was a new collection of movies for the two of them to enjoy.

They have movie nights every Wednesday and Sunday.

As for Salvatore's vomiting, [Father] was able to make an elixir that prevents vomiting but Sal has to drink it every month. It's bitter but he will do it regardless.

🛠 [Karl Heisenberg] 🛠

[Father] knew that Karl was still cross with him for embarrassing him before Mother Miranda and the Other Lords & no real father would want his son to be angry with him at every family get-together.

[Father] went to Karl's Factory with an apology but when he went inside, he saw his son running from a strange contraption with a large drill arm.

His Paternal Instincts kicked in and he charged at the creature, crushing its head in his hand before turning to his son to make sure he was alright.

Karl was angry to see him at first but he did thank him for saving his life before that thing turned him into a pin-cushion. He then asked [Father] what he was doing in his factory and the taller man said he didn't want any bad blood between the two of them and offered his services to his son.

Karl wasn't interested and first but he then realized that he could use [Father] to get inside information on Miranda so he agreed.

The two of them worked on projects, blueprints, or repairs for hours, enjoying each other conversation and presence.

[Father] asked the 4th Lord to be kinder to the other lords - he hated seeing his family argue and be bitter with each other.

Karl - while he never saw the others as his family - agreed to this for the sake of the only one he really respected and cared for.

Karl was still planning on making Miranda suffer for what she had done to him and the others...but...Did [Father] really deserve it?

This man - he had a heart of gold - but it was clear he suffered as well and this 'family' was the only thing that kept him together, kept him happy - Karl didn't want him to be unhappy.

What would destroying Miranda and this 'family' do to [Father]? Karl wondered but at the same time, he didn't want to know. This man was a father to him...what was he supposed to do?

🧪 [Mother Miranda + The Lords As A Whole] 🧪

Miranda would wake up to the smell of [Father]'s cooking and coffee every morning - he refused to let her start the daily research without a good meal and coffee, and she didn't object to this - the man made some delicious food.

One day - Miranda went to the meeting grounds and found the man cleaning, fixing pillars, and making individual thrones for the Lords, Mother Miranda, and himself. Reason: "My wife and children are not sitting on old ass furniture and possibly getting sick."

The Lords love their thrones - he even made one for Angie.

When an argument - mostly between Alcina and Karl - broke out, [Father] would roar for them to shut up and respect the Mother of All and each other.

"You are my children - not savages - and you will act like it or I shall show you how savages were treated where I came from!"

It would take Miranda's gentle hand to calm him when the children acted out of line.

When it came to the Cadou Experiments - [Father] would aid Miranda or his children without a second thought. Whatever they needed, he would get for them.

[Father] would try to have a family dinner with everyone at his manor once a week, just so the family could all be together.

As much as Miranda didn't want to admit it - she loved the dinners; it really felt as if she had a real family.

Maybe...when Eva was returned to her...they could be a family.

[End]

[interstellargatorskinboots1812]

'I've Done Some Things that I Shouldn't have done'

Tommy directs himself to the heart of his sister's new living room, exerting into a green velvet armchair. The house mute, save for the distant rattle of Edna, clambering through the kitchen cupboards.

His features illuminate in a burnt orange hue from the spring sunset  – the silhouettes of the town houses outside, washing with a golden glow. He reaches into his pocket for his new sterling silver cigarette case. Smoke fills the space and just like the belching cars aligning the roads outside, it brings with it an entitlement to pollute the air- a strange notion of dominance.

Edna infiltrates his fumes, parading across to him carrying a tray of tea, biscuits and a tan bottle of Solomons' Finest Old Rum. Functionally , she lays it on the coffee table.

'Thank you'. Tommy's tone is low and polite. He picks up the glass bottle to inspect.

'If you need anything else, give me a shout. As I said, they should be home soon- Ms Shelby has been making sure that Mr Solomons returns home for six each night'.

As Edna leaves the room, a slight smile catches on Tommy's lips – his sister has been gone four weeks but it seems her tenacity has not gotten home sick.

His ash barely has time to settle into the tray, when the front door slams shut. Heavy footsteps carry through the hallway and raised voices break the stillness.

'You had no right Alfie, I am not your property!'

'Arabella, let me be clear, all right? You, yeh, are my fucking fiance and I will not have those mongrels and booze hounds at the factory thinking they can look you up and down whenever the mood takes them – you treacle are off the fucking menu and that needed to be made clear'.

'I am not a piece of meat, Alfie. How dare you embarrass and undermine me like that, lining all you men up to roar at them about me – you might as well have pissed up my legs to mark your damn territory!'

'God, give me strength!' Alfie's brow furrows. He is certain that the lines on his forehead have increased with each passing week of Arabella living and working with him.

'Strength? I'll give you a puncture if you ever pull anything like that again! You can send flowers round to the wife of that man you knocked unconscious as a peace offering'.

'I will fucking not!'

'Yes you fucking will, Alfie!'

'Go on, fuck off. It's your fault he got hit anyway'.

'My fault? How the hell do you jump to that conclusion?'

'Well, if you hadn't kicked me -yeh -in the fucking shin - then I wouldn't have felt the need to have to re-exert my authority and restore the natural balance'.

'You deserved that kick and worse! Don't ever, ever speak like that on my behalf again! Fiancé or no fiancé, I am not yours to show off'.

'Fuck sake, woman!'

With every pulse in his body throbbing, a disgruntled Alfie barrages his way through his living room door. He stares down at Tommy, taking a moment and looking skyward.

'Good lord, you Shelby's know how to fuckin' multiply! - Evening Thomas, what brings you here on this fine night?'

Tripping on the boots she is trying to remove, Arabella dashes from the hall, shocked to see her big brother there, unannounced. Forgetting her grumble with Alfie, she studies Tommy closely.

'You didn't say you were coming?' She raises an eyebrow.

'Do I need an invitation to see my sister now?'

Of course not, but I do hope you're not checking up on me?'

'Doesn't sound to me like it's you who needs checking up on'.

Tommy's eyes tauntingly skim to Alfie who returns the look with his own venomous and threatening one whist standing behind his fiancé in controlled silence, arms firmly folded.

'Why are you here then?' Arabella sits on the sleek beige sofa opposite, shaking off the amused irritation at his comment to Alfie.

'Well, I was in the area and thought i'd see how you have settled.'

Alfie heads toward the door.

'In that case, i'll leave you two to catch up on your curses and voodoo'. He wiggles his ring-infested fingers mockingly in front of his face. 'I'll take Cyril for a walk'.

Tommy cuts him off.

'Actually, I need to speak to you both as it seems we have hit some what of a impediment with this deal'. Tommy gestures between his two counterparts with the flat of his hand. Alfie eases slowly next to Arabella, grumbling to himself in the process, whilst Arabella ponders when her big brother started using words with more than three syllables.

'Did you know that Jewish mythology is one of the least explored in the world? Yeh, it is – and not 'cause of any lack , no. Jewish myth is rich and fascinating in it's stories'.

He places his hand on Arabella's knee in emphasis, which she instantly swots away.

'Alfie please,  not another fucking riddle'.

'Oh no, you'll want to hear this one, sweetie.'

Tommy nonchalantly puffs his cigarette, looking to Alfie with his trademark barren countenance. Arabella rubs at her brow warding off her oncoming headache- her brain auditing possible reasons for Tommy's tarriance.

'Us Jews right, we have a creed about the unfinished corner of creation. The belief runs thus: “Whoever declares himself to be God, let him come and finish this corner, and then all shall know he is a god.” Now this corner, yeh, happens to be where the coldest and most bitter winds hail from. It is said that every form of evil spirit and demon dwell there, drawn to this one remaining corner of primordial darkness out of their arrogance to finish what God started. Do you know where this corner resides?'

'No, but i've got a feeling you're going to tell us'. Arabella looks pointedly at him, tapping her fingers relentlessly on her leg.

'The place that is the hyperborean of malicious maleficence, where God himself thought fuck that – and that place is the North. Now, it just so happens that you two came down the canal appertaining from that very compass point and ever since the both of you seem fucking content in unleashing all matter of earth's fury on me, dancing along with the evilness that is giving my sciatica cause for concern'.

Arabella releases a rasping groan.

'And yet you still set up the deal to join us both together in the eyes of your God'.

'Yeh, well I was up for the challenge weren't I?'

Arabella turns away from Alfie, shaking her head in the process.

'So, what problem have we got then, it must be a good one to get you out of Birmingham'.

Tommy's eyes radiate detachment-  despite the cigarette hanging from his plump lips, high-handedness was his biggest vice. A seed that was planted in the war and whose roots now run deep, giving Arabella sleepless nights.

'It seems that I will need to be in New York in the coming weeks and so, with that in mind, we will need to rush along the engagement announcement as I will need to be here when it happens'.

'New York? Why the hell are you going to New York?' Arabella firmly folds her arms across her chest.

'It's some personal business that I need to take care of, that's all.'

She lowers her brow- the devil in her so used to sowing suspicion when it comes to Tommy's words and his hollow promises. After all, one lie is enough to question all truths.

'I hope it's not Irish business, Tommy. You swore to me that was done'.

'And that's because it is done. Irish business is exactly that – their business. This is something I am dealing with on my own.'

She stares at her twin with intensifying uneasiness- surely this wasn't anything to do with that woman again.

'Old ways won't open new doors Tommy. You know that'.

Tommy looks at her impassively, but she knows he catches her drift. Alfie, with an overemphasised clearing of his throat, breaks up the twins' stalemate.

'If I might just interrupt- I happen to have things to fuckin' do, so if you wouldn't mind getting on with it Thomas and telling us why you're 'ere...'

Stubbing out his cigarette, Tommy sits forward in the chair.

'I need your engagement to be announced this week.'

Arabella jolts to her feet.

'This fucking week?!' Her tone is biting as she works hard to silence each irrational thought that pops into her head.

'Fucking hell Tommy, you've gone fuckin' mad, ain't ya! This week?!  

Tommy straightens his collar and bucks up, still stone-faced. After initially agreeing a three month settling period prior to any formal announcement, he knows this is going to be a hard sell.

'I know what i'm asking of you both, makes you angry, but it's not like i'm asking for the wedding to be this week- just the engagement announcement'.

Alfie steps forward towards Tommy.

'Tom, let me tell you something, right? The Jewish faith, we have traditions, we do, we have customs and rituals that must be abided by. Your sister, as well-informed as she is,  is not ready to enter into a Jewish engagement. Setting the engagement this week – fuckin' ridiculous!'

Tommy checks his watch, coolly.

'I need to make this quick, I have a meeting shortly'.

'Who with?' Arabella's tone is curt, not wanting to be omitted from any upcoming business,

'No one you would know, it's . . .'

'Let me guess, personal business?'

Tommy doesn't dignify his sister with an answer, turning his attention instead to Alfie.

'I spoke with your housemaid earlier, she informs me that you two are invited to a function this coming weekend for the Jewish Board of Guardians'.

'Did she now?' Disparagement hangs in Alfie's rhetoric, his eyes fissures of agitation.    

'It would be convenient if this event marks the official proclamation of your engagement into Jewish society. Arabella here is a quick learner, any etiquette required of her she can pick up in a few days'.

'She can also speak for herself, Thomas'. Her words dart at her brother.

'Tomorrow I have arranged for the family to come down to London. I took the liberty of sending then a dinner invitation for the Grosvenor House Hotel, they know you have news for them Arabella, they just don't know what it is.'

'Oh fuck off Tommy, this is far too short notice. I do not need you to fucking sort out my fuckin engagement!'

Spittle flies from Alfie's lips, landing in his beard. His face incinerating in resentment.

'Things have changed- i'm not going to be here in the coming weeks and you'll need me when the family hear this news'. Tommy shrugs his shoulders, as if he were timestamping his arrogance.

'Now listen, I don't know how things are done in the wilderness you call home, but let me tell you this, right? It is not for you to plan out our announcement. You- fucking you-coming in here and telling me how and when i'll announce my wedding is fucking fanciful mate!'

Alfie's hands slam on the coffee table, sending the teapot tumbling- treating Tommy to a hostile glare and a clenched jaw.

'Alfie, you need to calm down this needs sorting rationally'. Arabella gently squeezes his bicep in an attempt to tame the unleashed beast.

'I don't give a fuck about rational right now, treacle.' His eyes constricting as he jabs his forefinger practically into Tommy's face.

'I will not have him, fucking waltzing into my house, sitting in my chair and telling me he has arranged our fucking deal without one consultation with either of us- it's un-fuckin-justified!'.

'Look, I can see what i've done is making you mad, but we need to move things along anyway, there's little point in dallying around.'

Alfie reaches slowly inside his waistcoat.

'Tommy, I am going to fucking shoot you'.

Arabella grabs at his arm, seeing this as her point to draw the line.

'Alfie, leave your bullets where they are. Tommy is an domineering bastard, but he's right. We might as well get this over and done with then we can begin our alliance properly'.

'Precisely what I'm saying. We do the announcing this week, whilst I am here then you two can get to work on new deals.'

'Do not for one second think I condone your presumptuous actions. You ever try anything like this again and I will cut you. Right out of this business deal. Doubt my abilities to make decisions on timings again and you risk everything down here in the South, is that understood'.

Tommy could feel the heat from the fire behind her eyes.

'Understood. So, do we have a deal of the running order for the week? Shelby family meeting tomorrow at the Grosvenor and formal announcement at your gala on Saturday?'

Alfie scolds exaggeratedly under his breath.

'Alfie?' Tommy questions collectedly.

'I want some assurances made.' Alfie looks out of the window into the distance, creaking his neck and connecting his hands together.

'And what would they be?' Tommy's voice muffles around his freshly lit cigarette.

'Your brother, yeh? He is an untamed brute- I want certainty that he is not going to come for me. I'd hate to have his blood on my hands before the wedding'.

Arabella rolls her eyes.

'Shut up Alfie, you've got nothing to fear from Arthur. His bark is worse than his bite. Polly on the other hand is going to have your balls as a starter unless you reassure her of your commitment to me.'

'Fucking Shelby's! Right, that's it, i've had enough, I have- I have had enough. I'm taking Cyril out for a walk and may I just say that I may choose to stay outside in the wilderness and never return, save being the prize winning-pig on the Shelby dinner table tomorrow'.

Alfie stands slowly, holding on to his hip. 'This Shelby meeting at the Grosvenor? It will be conducted in a private room- if I'm to be bombarded with Gypsies, then it's happening in private'.

'Alfie stop being so bloody dramatic'.

'Sweetie, the last time I clapped eyes on your other brother was when I got him clinked up and battered- there's nothing dramatic about it.'

'Well, you'll just have to make sure your performance of love and devotion to me is a strong one then won't you?'

'Fuckin' death of me you, I swear it. Right, I will see you Tommy, tomorrow- make sure you bring mute Arthur'. Alfie exits the room, umbrage sprouting from every pore.

'You're unbelievable Tommy, you know that?' Arabella groans. 'We're all a pawn in your game of chess, aren't we?' She grinds her teeth as she watches him.

'Look, don't fight me on this- just know that I've not got a choice but to push things forward.'

His agitated words make her see his mask slipping and the anxiety showing through.

'You're not in any trouble are you Tommy?'

He shakes his head.

'No, nothing like that. It's just something that requires my immediate attention'.

Sensing there is more to the story, but not wanting to push him, Arabella changes the subject.

'Do the family have any idea at all about this?'

Tommy shakes his head again.

'Oh fuck, Alfie is in trouble then isn't he? I hope you're bringing a leash for Arthur.'

'They'll be anger tomorrow, of course there will, but you are a good actress when the occasion calls and once they all calm down they will accept your relationship with Alfie'.

'Or they'll make me a widow before i'm even married'. Arabella smirks at Tommy, inciting the same response back.

'I'm sure Solomons can handle himself just fine. As for Arthur, you are very skilled at turning his head the direction you wish it to go and it seems you are making progress with Alfie on that front'.

Tommy idly moves to the large bay window, turning the corner of the silk curtain and looking out to see Alfie sauntering over the road whilst animatedly telling a tale to the large hound at the end of his lead.

'There is another reason I came her tonight.'

'Why don't I like the sound of this?'

Tommy reaches into his inside pocket, rummaging about until his hand touches what he is looking for. He passes Arabella a piece of paper, which she carefully studies.

'Michael McCleary? Am I supposed to know who that is?'

Tommy sits down next to his sister. A serious expression drawn on his face.

'I need you to find out if Alfie has any business connections to him, which I suspect he does'.

'And why do you need to know that, who is this McCleary?'

'McCleary is the head of a Liverpool gang called the High Rip Gang. They've been targeting dockers and sailors coming into port and now it seems they're turning their attentions further south. We've had a few hold ups on our cargo over the last few weeks and it seems the High Rips are at the heart of them'.

'And you think Alfie is involved?'

'I'm not saying he has anything to do with our stolen cargo, but I think he knows more than he is willing to let on about them. It won't do us any harm to find out what dealings he has. Do you think you can do some digging and let me know If you can find anything?'

'I'll see what I can do.' Arabella folds up the piece of paper and places it in her skirt pocket, feeling rather excited at the thought of having something to sink her teeth into. Tommy gets up from the sofa and places his flat cap back on.

'I need to get going. I'll have the details of tomorrow sent across by telegram.'

'Tommy?' Arabella's tone is soft, stopping Tommy in his pursuit of the exit.

'Be careful, won't you?' He doesn't answer, just solemnly walks out of the room, leaving Arabella alone. She lounges warily against the plush velvet, tomorrow was going to be a nightmare. Convincing Polly would certainly take some doing. She was going to have to sit down with Alfie when he returns so they can put into place a plan of action and perfect their story. Arabella's eyes begin to fall closed, her breathing getting heavier. She's pulled from her tired state by the loud ringing of the telephone. Huffing, she uses both hands to propel herself from the couch. The phone had been a hotspot this week for calls whereby no one was ever on the other end when she answered. Picking up the receiver, she is about to speak when she is beaten to it by the frantic voice of a female.

'Alfie?'

Arabella's response is irked.

'Who's this?'

For a moment, the line is completely silent, before the call is ended abruptly. Who the hell was that and are they the one responsible for all the dead phone calls they had received that week? Arabella drops the receiver down, picking it straight back up an dialling zero.

'Operator?'

'Yes hello, I'd like the telephone number of our last caller please'.

As the operator reels off the number, it sounds all too familiar. Running upstairs she rushes to her bedside table and hidden inside her mirror compact lays the scrunched up piece of paper that Alfie had hidden in his pocket the first night she arrived- the exact same phone number embellished onto it. Arabella breathes out heavily- she will find out who this mystery caller is if it's the last thing she does. First though, she would need to make sure tomorrow's meeting with her family doesn't end up in a shoot out of epic proportions. That headache of hers, felt stronger than ever.

_______________________________________________________

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[tiesthatbind-tf]

The movement is a rhythm to us Freedom is like religion to us Justice is juxtapositionin' us Justice for all just ain't specific enough

I swear to god this man’s sheet took up way more effort than initially planned but holy shit is he ever worth it all. IDW did you dirty, Jazz, but I sure as hell am not going to.  So you know what you’re going to get buddy? A full background, connections, a QPP who sees you as their sun and a lead role as a Matrix holder and rebellion leader in the Functionist Universe arc because we go big or go home here, and no one deserves it more.  Full story below the cut!

Jace was born out of wedlock in New York to a single-parent household and worked at the Red Hook docks in Brooklyn as teenager; He lived in a district redlined for Class 5 (manual workers) which he was immediately assigned to and never managed to finish his formal schooling as his mother, who was a factory worker, was maimed while at work and was unable to keep supporting the family as the  breadwinner, so he stepped up early at the age of fourteen.

He is cousin to Shamar Wesley (affectionately named ‘Streetwise’) who is  five years younger than him and was adopted by his mother when Shamar’s own parents passed away in a workers’ bus crash. Despite his education being cut short for sake of supporting his family, Shamar ended up helping Jace keep up by teaching him what had been learnt at school when he came home from his shift.

His mother, Nichelle,  had a love for singing and from her is where his love for music (and his gift for it, as he claims) came from, and her death when he was 17 due to a chronic illness which they had no coverage for and he couldn’t earn nearly enough to mitigate, hit him hard.

To make things worse, Shamar was taken away from him because he wasn’t legally considered an adult yet, and even if he could argue in court for guardianship, he had a home life considered to be financially unstable.

With no choice but to surrender Shamar to the adoption system, Jace promised him that they would be together again once he was considered stable enough to provide a good home. In the meantime however, he found himself  becoming more and more involved with unions as it became increasingly clear to him that people in his work class were being locked into a generational cycle of poverty that had to be broken.

With his innate charisma and alluring voice, he made connections and friends and became a visible youth figurehead of the union movement demanding for minimum wage and compensation for workplace injuries like the one which disabled his mother.

His activities didn’t go unnoticed however, and during a peaceful protest which was violently broken up by police, he was arrested on charges of inciting a riot and persuaded to give up his colleagues in return for a lower sentence and being given custody of Shamar.

However, a cop with a crippling guilty conscience, Barrin Caidel (Barricade) stopped him from commiserating over the deal and revealed that the intention from higher up had always been to punish him and his colleagues as an example, and that he was slated to be sentenced to Empurata like his older friends—-the only reason the procedure for him had been delayed was because of the red tape concerning his relative youth, and it had been cleared the same evening the offer had been made to him.

Urging for Jace to run, Barrin offered him enough money to take him across the Atlantic via a migrant smuggling operation at the docks to the UK where extradition would be a tedious process even if they could track him down, and Jace, torn between the horror of what was going to be done to him and the guilt of leaving behind Shamar, made a call to his cousin to explain the situation. Shamar wasted no time in echoing Barrin’s advice, asserting that this wasn’t goodbye and that they were going to see each other again.

Landing on UK shores a week later, Jace took on the pseudonym of ‘Jaden Tanner’ to hide his tracks and blend in with the working population.  He found employment at the docks near Wapping and spent the next few years keeping an eye over his shoulder for every shadow and every face that seemed to linger on him longer than usual.

As his fear of being caught by US agents faded however, he began to properly integrate himself into the dock-working community and began pursuing music as a side career, joining a group of buskers on the streets after hours to earn a little extra income.

His gift caught the attention of the owner of Maccadam’s New Tavern in London’s Newham borough who offered to give him a bigger platform to perform for a night, which he enthusiastically agreed too.

On the night of his debut however, the career musicians on call staged a walkout after discovering that a manual worker would be joining their ranks as a vocalist, and for a moment it seemed as though his dream to make a real career out of music was in danger of being killed before it even began, until several patrons who were witness to the argument between Maccadam’s owner and the musicians offered their services to help him put on a show. It was here that he was first introduced to Omar Parvez (Optimus, who offered to take the piano), Omar’s close friend Morgan Trayton (Megatron, who offered to work the violin), Ramiro Vasquez (Ravage, who volunteered for the guitar) and Lara Soelberg (who made a beeline for the drums).

With the help of these four strangers, he managed to put on a show that earned him a weekend gig at Maccadam’s.

He continued to see Omar and Morgan sporadically on those weekends and became casually acquainted with them, until Morgan stopped coming entirely and the next time he saw Omar, it was when the man has been demoted from Constable to lost, confused and dejected dock worker for speaking up against systemic corruption.

Determined to repay Omar’s goodwill, he took the man under his wing and taught him how to work on and with the ships that docked in the area and during that time, became close enough friends with him that they ended up housemates in a shared apartment, and he ended up telling Omar his real name and the truth about his past.

When Omar was called on by Senator Sharifuddin Waseem (Shockwave) to investigate Senate corruption, he offered his services as well to connect to people on the ground and run infiltration exercises, having caught the glimpse of true revolution on the horizon and no longer willing to keep his head low and stay in hiding as the momentum grew stronger.

Once upon a time he’d been a teenager who fled a continent out of fear of how the government planned to break his body and spirit for lighting the the smallest of sparks on the bonfire of reform.

This time, the spark was a torch, and he wasn’t going to stand down until the old system was baptized in its flames.

[fandom-puff]

As Time Went On

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Requested by: anon ‘Could I request a Tommy Shelby x reader where it shows your relationship throughout your whole life so like from being friends at a really young age until married in adulthood’

Warnings: mentions of war/violence/sex but nothing in detail. Also, drinking and smoking

Gif creds to owner

“Oi! You’re not allowed here. Girls aren’t allowed,”

You rolled your eyes, concentrating on scribbling the names of the horses your father had told you onto a bit of paper with a blunt pencil.

“Shut it, Shelby. Your Aunt Polly is a girl and she’s always here. Anyway, Dad doesn’t finish in the factory until after closing time and Mum’s too busy taking care of my brother, so shut the fuck up and let me put my bloody bet on,”

Polly smirked into her cup as she walked over to you both, trying not to laugh at the argument between the two seven year olds (although Tommy would constantly remind everyone that he was actually seven and a half). “Alright, Thomas. Go and help your brother, you know he’s bad at sums. You written those horses down for me , love?” She asked, and you handed her the piece of paper. While she checked over your wonky writing, tommy glared at you, sticking his tongue out at you as he walked away.

***

“What if he kicks me? Or throws me off? Or bites me?”

Tommy laughed slightly. “He won’t. Shadow’s a good horse. Even our Ada rides him sometimes. C’mon, I’ll help you up,” Although a little apprehensive, you accepted Tommy’s leg up as you got onto the horse, eyes widening as he shifted. “It’s alright. He’s just getting used to you,”

“I thought girls were meant to ride with their legs on one side,” you said after a while as Tommy began leading the horse slowly around his paddock.

“Only rich, posh girls who don’t know anything about horses,” tommy said. “Us? We know horses. This is how we do it,”

You nodded, smiling slightly as you looked down at tommy. You were both fourteen now, him nearing fifteen, and he seemed to have grown overnight. When you were younger, you had been a few inches taller than him, which came at a real advantage when you played chase (or a fun game called Run As Fast As You Can So Polly Doesn’t Wack Us With Her Wooden Spoon) but now, even with you atop the horse, you could see how much taller he was.

A little while later, he helped you down off Shadow, and he gulped, feeling the softness of your waist beneath your dress. He cleared his throat and together you led the horse back to the stables, stealing glances at one another when the other wasn’t looking.

***

“My dad will fucking kill me,” you said in a hushed voice, barely suppressing your tipsy giggles as you and Tommy sat by the Cut, hiding in the shadows of Charlie’s yard.

“He’s more likely to kill me,” Tommy grinned, taking a swig from the bottle before passing it to you. “Sixteen years old and here you are, out past midnight, getting you shitfaced, smoking. I really have led you astray,”

You grinned, gulping from the bottle and sloshing it down your front. Tommy shook his head fondly. “You’re such a fuckin’ lightweight, YN,” he said, and you laughed loudly. “Shhh shut the fuck up,” tommy said, his own laugh betraying him as he pressed his hand ovef your mouth. You stared at eachother for a moment as he slowly moved his hand and you leaned in close, pressing your lips against his.

“Oi! Who’s there?”

“Shit, Charlie’s coming, c’mon! Grab the fuckin’ whiskey, YN, for Christ’s sake!”

Tommy grabbed your hand and pulled you up and you ran off, laughing into the night.

***

He was different when he came back from France. They all were.

Tommy wouldn’t let go of you when he stepped off the train, his tears soaking into the shoulder of your coat. It was only when you promised you’d stay with him at the little house in Watery Lane that he pulled away, and you walked arm in arm together.

He proposed that night, and it was the first time you and the Shelby’s (save for Finn, who didn’t quite understand why his brothers were so sad all of a sudden) properly smiled in years.

***

The arrival of Grace Burgess to Small Heath caused quite the stir, but you and Polly saw right through her. She expected her singing to entrap tommy into spilling the Peaky secrets, but when you cornered her before opening time, she soon backed off. Whether it was the butterfly knife you rammed into the bar, the ice cold look you fixed her with, or your silver tongue, she knew it was more than her life’s worth to cross Polly Gray and YN Shelby.

You and Polly made a point of ordering Scotch whiskey whenever Grace was around- much to the brother’s amusement.

***

You were furious with Tommy for facing off with Billy Kimber, and even more so when Sabini got involved.

That didn’t stop you doting on him, making sure his bullet wound from Kimber was cleaned daily.

And Tommy definitely milked it, even after it began to scar.

“Ay, where’s my kiss to make it better, Mrs Shelby?” He’d ask with a cheeky glint in his eye that was only ever seen by you.

“You’re pushing your fucking luck, you,” you’d say.

But of course, you’d press a gentle kiss over the bandage, and another to his lips.

***

When Polly grasped onto your breast after a family meeting, all hell broke loose. Ada, with little Karl on her lap gave you a knowing look, while Arthur and John cheered loudly (“about time, Tom!”). Finn was confused as to why you were recieving an impromptu breast exam at the table, and Tommy... just stared at you with wide eyes.

“Am I...?”

“Is she...?” You said at the same time and Polly just nodded, returning to her seat and giving you both a smile.

You and Tommy left early, with John and Arthur shouting after you both to be careful, ready to wet the baby’s head even though it was barely more than a tiny speck at that moment in time.

***

“Thomas Michael Shelby I am never sleeping with you again you utter bastard! Ah!”

Tommy paced in the landing, your pained screams driving him mad. He had tried sitting at the table and smoking with brothers as you laboured, but he couldn’t bare to be so far away from you. Polly, Esme and Ada were keeping him busy, sending him for more hot water every now and then.

When the piercing sound of a baby crying filled the house, he slumped against the wall with relief as everyone downstairs cheered.

Polly peaked her head around the door, smiling warmly. “In you come then. Come and meet your little boy,”

Tommy felt his eyes well up as he stepped over the threshold to the rest of his life, smiling down at you as you looked up, looking utterly worn out, but with a smile bright enough to power the whole country, a tiny bundle in your arms.

Tommy say carefully on the edge of the bed, leaning a little closer.

“Come here, you silly git,” you said gently, letting him shuffle closer. He peaked over the blanket and felt his heart melt as he stared at the tiny, sleeping baby with a shock of dark hair.

“Our little boy, Tom,” you said gently.

“Yeah,” he said, staring at you both in awe. “Our little boy. My little family,”

Tags: @liliputbahn @lilymurphy03 @imareallygrumpyme @acciosiriusblack

DM me to be on my tag list (with what fandoms you wanna be tagged in, as well as if you wanna be tagged in smut x)

[cha-lyn]

A Series of Break Ins

bucky x black female reader

Summary: Someone breaks into your apartment

Warnings: break ins, lil bit of violence, wounds + blood

Words: 1617

A/N: Inspiration from @write-it-motherfuckers ( prompt is in bold somewhere below) :) some wonderful stuff on that blog

-------

January.

You lived in an old building in a shitty part of town. The loft kind that was once an office or a factory or something. Lots of windows. Terrible heat bill in the winter. You heard gunshots and fighting frequently. It wasn’t your dream home. No, your windows faced a manufacturing building with no windows. From your fire escape, if you stretched really far, you could cross the alley and touch the building. You only did that once though because the fire escape was rickety and not very safe.

That particular night, you were coming home from a mediocre date with a guy named Marcus. Usually you’d take a cab home, but your budget was tight this month. So you weaved through the alleys, the cold and the dark making you more jumpy than usual. You just wanna be home, with your warm fuzzy socks on and a glass of wine.

Your anxiety settles once you make it into your building. You take the steps two a time to your third floor studio. You open your door, shutting it quickly and leaning back against it.

That’s when the hairs on your arm stand up. Your eyes shoot open and your breath catches. Your kitchen light is on. You know it was not on when you left earlier. In your kitchen sits your first aid kit dumped out on the table.

You grab the baseball bat you keep next to the door and check every crevice of your home. Nothing.

You return to the kitchen, hesitantly. Next to the first aid kit is a napkin with a note: Sorry for the intrusion. I’ll replace everything I used. Thanks. - BB

You just looked at the note and blinked. Who the fuck had been in your apartment?!

The next day there’s a package outside your door containing the promised replacements from the stranger. There’s another note: Sorry again. -BB

You’re not quite sure what to do. Call the police? And say what- someone broke in, left no trace and then replaced what they stole? They would think you’re crazy.

February.

After the break in you upped your security. You got a deadbolt, a door chain, and a magnetic sensor on your front door that rang and alerted your phone when set off.

You felt pretty good about your upgrade… until it happened again. You’d come home late from drinks with a friend unlocked the door, then the deadbolt.

The light in your kitchen was on again. You grabbed your bat immediately, ready to swing on whoever was dumb enought to break into your house yet again.

“Whoa, whoa ma’am. Please don’t--” but you did. Whack him that is. Three times. And then a black gloved hand stopped your swings dead and blue eyes lock with yours.

“Holy fucking shit. B. B! It was you. Fucking Bucky Barnes broke into my house!”

He nods and watches your face as it goes from rage to confusion and then back to rage. You let go of the bat and he puts it behind him. “Look, I am really sorry. I know this is probably terrifying--”

“Yeah ‘cause I thought you were a god damn serial killer--not an Avenger!” You plop down onto a kitchen chair.

Bucky stared at you amused. “This is not how I thought this would go…”

“Don’t you have some Avenger place you can go and get fixed up? Instead of breaking into civilian households?” you sigh irritatedly.

“No. For one I’m not an Avenger…. And uh, two… I got hurt doing something not necessarily sanctioned by the government.” Bucky looked up at the ceiling bashfully.

“My god, you’re doing vigilante shit,” you breathed out a laugh.

Bucky shrugged, “You could call it that.” He wrung his gloved hands together. “I should go… I’ll send you replacements for the stuff I used. ”

“Or you could just not break into my house.” Bucky chuckled, before climbing out the window. “You could use the door!’

The man has the audacity to laugh as he closes your window, “Thanks again, doll.”

You let out a groan, wondering why on earth he chose your apartment and why on earth you weren’t more pissed off about it.

March

You’re dead asleep when you hear a thud on the fire escape outside your window. Your heart thuds like a bass drum as scenarios of you being murdered flash through your head. A stabbing. A shooting. God, please not a strangling. Then there’s a persistent tapping. You pretend to still be asleep, holding your breath and not moving.

“I know you're awake. I need to .. uh utilize your first aid kit again. Please, doll.”

Relief hits you like a wave and you flick the light on and get out of bed. You open the window and Sergeant Barnes slips through the space, holding his flesh arm, but not really effectively stopping the blood.

The two of you stand there for a second, until you remember that you don’t sleep with pants on and awkwardly move around him to find a pair of shorts. You find him sitting at your kitchen table again, waiting for you to get the first aid kit, like he doesn’t have a goddamn metal arm on him.

“For fuck’s sake…” You pull it out from under the sink and set it in front of him with a thud. Bucky smirks sheepishly. “Did you get shot again?” you ask after a while. He nods once as he gets to work. “Aren’t you like... super?” He nods. “Won't it heal super fast?” He nodded once again. “So what’s the point of the first aid kit?”

“You ask a lot of questions,” he sighs irritatedly.

You narrow your eyes, “Oh dear, am I inconveniencing you?”

He stops and looks up at you through his dark lashes. “Sorry. I’m being rude. What's your name anyway?”

You roll your eyes, but you tell him.

He cleans after himself and then stands. “Thank you again. Y/n.”

You ignore the lil shiver you get when he says your name, “Is this gonna be a regular thing Sargeant?”

Bucky flashed you a charming smile, “Do you want it to be, doll?”

You cross your arms and set you glare, “You have five seconds before I get my bat.”

Bucky let out a very boyish laugh before dramatically making his exit via the window again.

Over the next few days, you consider getting locks for the windows, but for some reason you just don’t.

Two weeks later, you open your door, arms full of groceries, and find Bucky sitting on the floor of your kitchen once more, first aid kit open in front of him. You’re not even surprised really.

“Ah, Hello again. We really need to stop meeting like this.”

You scoff, “Maybe we would, if you would sTOP BREAKING INTO MY FUCKING HOUSE!!” You toss your purse on the couch.

Bucky laughs and the winces and groans. It’s then that you realize he’s very pale in the face and his flesh hand isn’t gloved it’s just dark with blood.

You drop the groceries roughly on the table, “Shit Bucky. Are you-- You’re bleeding a lot!”

“I’m fine, doll.”

“I don’t think you are….” You panic, reaching for your phone, but remembering it’s deep in your purse across the room.

“You gotta-- you’re gonna have to sew it up, okay?”

“Let me just call an ambulance,” you get up to get your phone, but he grabs your wrist firmly.

“No. You can do this Y/n. I’ll walk you through it.” Something in his blue eyes assures you. You nod and Bucky has you cut his shirt off before he leads you through the cleaning of his wound. Your face felt hot at the sight of his beautiful broad chest, despite the mess around you. Bucky guided you, wincing and jaw ticking as you closed up his wound. By the end, your hands are red and sticky and you’re quite nauseous, but you didn’t care. The color was already back in his face and the sparkle back in his blue eyes. “You did good, doll.”

“I can’t believe I did that,” you say breathily. Bucky smiled fondly at you. You get up, wash your hands thoroughly and gently help Bucky up and to your couch. “You want something to eat? Let me get you some water.” You don’t wait for an answer before going to the kitchen. You bring him a bottle of water, a beer, and left over orange chicken from last night’s dinner- he inhaled all three while you cleaned and sanitized your kitchen floor.

“I should head out,” he stood up stiffly, favoring his wounded side. “I’m sorry about all this…” he gestured towards his wound and then to your kitchen. “It won't happen again. I’ll get my own first aid kit.”

You shrug, “You basically bought mine with as much as you use it.” You stick your hand out. “Phone.” Bucky eyes you warily before obeying. “How about next time you need to use my first aid kit, you just call first?”

Bucky smiles a lopsided, goofy smile, as you put your number in. “I think I can do that.”

Three days later, Bucky calls you around 7pm. Thirty minutes later there’s a knock at your door - not your window.

“What’s bleeding now--”

Instead of beat up and bleeding, Bucky stands before you in a black button up with a bouquet of flowers and a bag of take out. “Hey doll. I wanted to really apologize for everything and try to make it up to you,” he gives you a sheepish grin.

You can’t contain your own smile. “Well, orange chicken and flowers are a good start. Come in.”

----

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