#Bust Down Pendant

[missradiantjewels]

[hiphopbling]

Bust down chain:

10K Yellow Gold Diamond Tennis Chain 3MM Miracle Setting. Micro Pave Prong Set round cut diamonds.  Miracle setting to look like a 15 Carat Diamond Chain that would cost over $10,000. 

[eddiestightywhities]

also on ao3 HERE

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“So, I overheard this guy in the line at the coffee shop this morning talking about name meanings—”

“Of course you did,” Eddie interjects, not unkindly.

Buck turned up with beers about a half hour ago, and has had his head in his phone for the last, what, twenty minutes? Something like that.

This is the first thing he's said since Eddie let him in and he sat his ass down on the couch in silence, looking like he needed Eddie to just allow him to.

Eddie did.

“—and I thought I'd look up ours.”

He's chewing on his bottom lip like it tastes good.

Eddie surprises himself by wondering if it does.

“I'm guessing you already know what Christopher means.”

Thinking back to when Shannon asked if he liked the name, Eddie smiles.

“Means 'Bearer of Christ', or something, right? We chose it because was Shannon's grandfather's name, though. He was Greek, and she adored him.”

Searching fingers instinctively find his pendant. It's positioned to the left, sitting right over his heart.

He misses his son like he'd miss a lung.

Buck looks up at him and smiles back, and Eddie feels glad the release he'd found dancing 'round his living room earlier isn't going to suddenly disappear down the bathroom sinkhole, along with his moustache.

“So, tell me, what does Edmundo mean, oh scholarly one?”

Buck's eyebrows try to meet his hairline.

“You don't know?”

Eddie tips his head back against the couch and scrunches his mouth up into nose.

“I have sisters, man, of course I know what it means. But that doesn't mean I don't want you to tell me.”

Buck seems somewhat happy with that.

“Well, it's a derivative of the Old English name Edmund, which is a combination of the words ēad and mund. The first part means prosperity, or riches, which is a bit of a bust, sorry man,” and he tries for a grin. It almost hits.

“But the the mund part means protector—which is pretty spot on, I reckon.”

Buck's eyelashes are kind of blonde, and kind of pretty. Eddie's thought it before, but there's just something about them in this light, in Eddie's house, on Eddie's couch.

“It's actually a real pretty name, Edmundo. Don't know if I've ever told you I think that.”

“Don't think I've ever told you your eyelashes are kind of pretty, so that makes us even, I guess.”

Eddie smiles at Buck, big and genuine, and somehow it's so easy.

Buck smiles back. Looks a little confused, or pleased, or both. Eddie's not sure, but either is okay with him.

“Um, thanks?”

Eddie bites his tongue between his teeth in a poor effort to stop his grin turning positively goofy.

Buck takes it for what it is, and bats his eyelashes at Eddie, silly, and laughs.

His whole demeanor then changes as he finally settles properly into the couch and gifts his lungs with what might be the first proper breath he's taken since he arrived.

“Anyway, Evan is the worst of the three. It means yew, like the tree? Which is—it symbolises, like, spirituality, and rebirth and shit like that. 'S not really, uh, me, you know?”

“You mean like Evan isn't really you?”

Buck bites at his red, red lip again.

Eddie decides it'd taste like cherry Chupa Chups.

“Yeah. But it's—my name.”

“Except it isn't though, it's it?” Eddie reminds him. “You're name is Buck, Buck. You decided that.”

“I don't know why he always insisted on calling me Evan. Or why I just—let him. It was kind of weird.”

Tommy.

"Called? Past tense?” Eddie flips his tongue in his mouth. Breathes a little more deliberately.

Buck looks at his phone again before he's slowly placing it down on the couch between them.

His fingers are touching the outside of Eddie's thigh, and Eddie's suddenly acutely aware that he still isn't wearing any pants.

Buck leaves his hand where it is.

“He, uh, he dumped me. Because I—”

Buck sucks in oxygen, a lot of it, and holds it in his lungs before puffing out his cheeks as he makes a show of blowing it back out again.

“I asked him to move in with me.”

Eddie was not expecting either of those statements.

"Ouch.”

Buck's fingers twitch against Eddie's skin, and Eddie feels it travel right down his leg and into his toes, which curl involuntarily into the carpet.

“You wanna talk about it?” he offers, kind of knowing Buck doesn't. He will when he's ready.

“Not really.”

Eddie licks at his lips. They taste like beer, and a little like confidence.

“How about Buck?”

Buck looks at him, perplexed.

Eddie's leg is starting to cramp a bit.

He doesn't move it.

“A Buck is another name for a stag, right?” he continues. “And the stag symbolises strength and purity—

“Don't forget fertility” Buck is looking at Eddie, and it feels like something.

Eddie snorts. “'Course, don't wanna forget fertility.”

Buck smiles the first proper Buck smile of the evening, and Eddie's feels it in his chest.

“Hey, hang on, how come you know so much about stags, Edmundo?”

“You did that project with Chris about the forest.”

Buck blinks at him.

“Dude that was, like, years ago. And, as you said, I was the one learning all about the woodland creatures and different types berries and toadstools, so how do you—”

“Because you told me,” Eddie shrugs a shoulder.

Buck blinks some more.

“And you—remembered that?” he asks.

In this moment, Eddie couldn't blink, nor look away from Buck, even if somebody were to pay him.

“I remember everything you tell me.”

It's weird but it's like the air itself is crackling as they sit here, just staring at each other.

They look at each other for what feels like a long time. Or maybe it's just a single heartbeat, Eddie can't really be sure.

He watches as Buck swallows, his Adam's apple a calling card.

Eddie isn't entirely sure of why he thinks of that.

Until he is.

When Buck moves his hand, it's to slide it fully onto Eddie's thigh to just sit there, right at home.

Eddie's suddenly blinking so much he's a little worried he might be stroking.

He doesn't mean to say, “Can you smell toast?” but finds himself saying it anyway.

Buck smile is both crooked and adorable.

“You worried you're having a stroke, old man?”

“We'd have been at the same school at the same time, Buck. I'm not that much older than you.”

“You are old and I am young and everyone and the universe knows this,” Buck claims, cocky and sure of himself once more.

Eddie licks at his lips again.

“I, uh, I think I finally believe you.”

Buck now mirrors him, licking his own lips.

Cherry Chupa Chups.

“You mean about the universe?” he's asking, like he doesn't almost always knew what Eddie means.

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes.

Buck waits.

Just as Eddie is thinking he really should go put some on some sweats or something, Buck must get impatient because he replies, “I think it always wanted you to believe.”

Eddie doesn't have a clue what time it is, or whether he had dinner or not, or how he got so damn lucky.

“I'm gonna choose to believe, because you believe—and I believe in you, Buck” he says, somehow both sure and unsure of absolutely everything that is to come.

At long last, he finds he is totally okay with that.

���Anyways, I can hear it now,” he tells Buck, “and I'm listening.”

.

unedited; pls be kind!

.

edited version now found HERE on ao3 if you'd like to pop across and leave me a comment xp

[lifespectator]

Punk Nun

Power bottom nun!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: The pretty nun named Wanda ended up with you…

Warnings: no specified gender but reader is AMAB, VERY little plot, mostly smut MINORS DNI, strong language, some angst Ig but hopeful ending.

A/N: I’m back and posting this to proof that visiting Santa Monica Pier at night changes a person lol anyways sorry if it isn’t the best but hope you enjoy it. Also, art not mine so credit to the original artist.

-

Who would have thought?

"I'm eager to see what's under that habit." You eyed up the horny nun as your wish to see her nude body grew more and more with each second, along with the need to touch her.

That pretty innocent-looking nun with short strawberry blonde hair that had crossed a few glances with you on the few times you did attend church would end up in your room—sitting on the edge of your bed, looking at you with lustful eyes.

It happened too fast. You heard a knock on your door, and Wanda stood there, perplexing you. When you thought she would read the Bible to you, she pushed past you with the excuse of wanting to talk to you like you had offered last time. Things went up from there, so you just chalked it up to 'fate.'

A low moan left the nun's mouth, seeing as you removed your black shirt, exposing your bare torso to her. She looked attentively at your body. Looks like your build was eye candy for her.

"I promise to let you touch." You said as Wanda shifted her attention to you. "But for now, you're in my house, so we'll do a ritual." With that, you walked out of the room. The words that had come out of your mouth had only elevated her sensation of need between her legs.

A sin? Yes. An unforgivable one for sure. She had made her vows to the church. But it wasn't her fault. Wanda never wanted to be part of that. Before, she was a typical teen with dreams and aspirations like many others. But one day, her parents told her they had chosen her life path. Why? Because they had some dream that Wanda would become a nexus being that would destroy everything. Pure nonsense, she always thought. Her biggest regret is that she never fought against her parents' decision.

It didn't matter anymore because she was with you now, and no one could stop her.

Wanda removed her loafers before you came back into the room. Carrying a bottle of red wine, you walked towards her and gently laid the bottle on the bed. She couldn't resist having you so close and lifted her hand and ran it over your abdomen. A low gasp left your mouth at her gentle touch.

"Couldn't stop yourself, huh?" You grabbed a part of the fabric of her habit. "Help me a bit." Wanda raised her arms, letting you gently pull it off her, exposing her beautiful body that was only covered by her black panties. Only Wanda's perky tits were exposed but adorned with a silver cross pendant that hung from a matching necklace. From her face down, she was worthy of being described as a goddess.

"The real sin is having you wear this, which doesn't allow me to see such beauty." You lusted, tossing the habit away, and instead reached for her soft breast, caressing them to feel their softness, making her breathing hitched when you rubbed your thumb on her perky tit. "I will have to include this in my thesis now." You teased, squeezing her breast.

"Oh, you're a priest now?" Wanda asked in a challenging tone, pushing your hands off her bust.

Cheeky. Despite not speaking much, Wanda announced she was not as innocent as she looked.

"I ain't no Martin Luther." You grinned, lightly pushing her against the bed and crawling on top of her. "But I'll gladly be your punk monk, my dear punk nun."

You planted your lips on hers as Wanda gave you access to her mouth. She reciprocated, deepening the kiss. Her tongue was swirling with yours. It was noticeable how it wasn't her first "steamy" makeout. How her hands ran from your hair to your back demonstrated how much she wanted this as much as you did. Her soft hands made her touch unique.

You parted your lips from hers and rested them on the tip of her ear.

"I'm going to begin my ritual." A low moan escaped Wanda's mouth, shivering at the feeling of your warm breath next to her ear.

You got off Wanda and kneeled beside her on the bed, grabbing the bottle of wine and opening it quickly. You offered her the bottle first, which she grabbed without hesitation. It was her favorite, after all. The nun took a deep sip of it and handed it back.

She laid back down at your instruction, letting you do as you pleased with her now. You ran your hand through her soft abdomen, preparing to give her the unexpected.

You lifted the wine bottle and tilted it towards her, pouring some of the wine on her belly button. Wanda jolted and let out a high-pitched hiss at the feeling of the cool liquid making contact with her skin.

"It's okay, beauty. You're okay." You comforted the nun. Her glare softened once she heard your words.

When the naughty nun was relaxed again, you lowered your head into her abdomen and sucked the wine that had stained her skin. Some breathy moans left her mouth as you sucked the red wine on her skin, especially at the sensitivity of her stomach. Groans left your mouth at the feeling of her warm skin. You sucked and even licked her skin until there was no trace of any liquid ever being there.

Your hand made contact with her black panties, making your cock twitch when you felt how drenched in her arousal fluids they were. The touch of your fingers on the cotton fabric that separates you from her entrance was enough to make her moan.

"Hurry the fuck up." Wanda cried when you teased her by rubbing your fingers on the fabric.

"What would your fellow sisters say with that vocabulary of yours?" You grabbed her panties from the waist and gently pulled them off her.

"I don't know. You're the one who is said not to worry about what other people say." Wanda raised her legs to assist you in removing her panties.

You passed your fingers on the top of her exposed entrance that was glistening with her wetness. Wanda mouthed a moan. "Nice to know that you do listen to me." You remarked.

Wanda moaned as you rubbed her entrance. "Fuck." She Let out when you started rubbing her clit followed by other curse words. Shaking her legs at the sensation. Her losing control gave you ideas. Without warning, you inserted two fingers into her entrance. Her sudden gasp turned into repeated moans when you started pumping your fingers into her fast. "Just like that." She begged, feeling you increase your pace. "Cum for me, nun." You groaned, feeling her walls tighten around your fingers, followed by a loud moan of hers and then the feeling of her warm fluids coming out of her pussy, getting all over your hand and staining the bed.

You brought your hand up to you and licked off her cum, savoring the taste.

You unbuckle your belt and slide off your jeans, accompanied by your boxers. Finally, let out your hardened cock, twitching at the thought of being inside Wanda.

"Show me how much you wanted this." You lay in the bed, inviting the sex-starved nun to get on top of you. She crawled on top of you, her legs on each side of your thighs. "I'll make you lose control." She smirked, looking down at you. Her confidence in her voice piqued your curiosity and even increased your need for her. "Show, not tell." You countered, also smirking and running your hand through her legs.

Letting out a low moan when you felt her soft hand grabbed your hardened cock and gave it a few slow strokes before aligning it with her entrance. She kept looking down, breathing out moans when she rubbed your tip with her slit and slowly took your whole length. "Ahh." Similar moans and some groans came out of your and Wanda's mouths as she felt your length go deeper while you felt her wet walls around your cock. You melted at the unknown energy she had. Almost as if it was another person.

You were left in a trance as you felt her soft, warm walls surrounding your cock that you overlooked when she bent down to whisper in your ear. "Let me know if you can't handle it." You weren't able to process her words once she started rocking back and forth on your cock at a slow pace to accustom to your size.

"You're a demon in disguise, huh?" You groaned at her sensual actions. Wanda placed her hands on your chest. "Let's find out." She started moving at a faster pace, waves of pleasure going through both your bodies. Wanda whimpered as she repeatedly sank into your cock. The view it gave you was mesmerizing as the way her breasts bounced, which impulsed you into grabbing them again. Kneading and teasing her perked nipples. "Keep going." She encouraged you in a breathy voice, inviting you to do more with her.

Wanting more of her body, your hands left her breast and, out of instinct, reached for her ass and held her with a tight grip stopping her movements.

"You might hurt me," Wanda teased in a raspy voice between breaths, coming to a stop and having an idea of what you were about to do. "Too late to back out now." You stretched her bum a bit before and, with no warning, pumped your cock as deeply as possible into her needy pussy. The noises of your hips hitting hers just right were barely audible as the repeated moans were louder. You continued until another sexy idea popped into your mind.

Out of nowhere, you turned her over and pinned her down on the bed without pulling out of the pretty nun. She yelped at the sudden action and breathed a bit to regain herself. Your eyes locked with hers; she was panting, sweat rolling down her face. Despite your initial thought, she wasn't amused. "You love being deep inside me." She muttered, making you lose any sense of control you had left in you.

You began moving your hips, pushing your cock deep in Wanda as much as you could at a pace that even made the bed creak. Wanda's hands gripped your biceps tightly as you started hitting the right spot. The sound of her moans and skin-to-skin contact pushed you to increase your pace; at the same time, her nails started digging into your skin; you were too lost in the pleasure even to notice it.

The good sensation of her walls clenching on you announced what was coming, so you didn't stop. You wanted to feel every last bit of her like she did of you. Wanda let out a high-pitched moan as you felt her warm juices fall on your cock, announcing her release of pleasure that you had helped build up. You stayed there on top of her, still hard, waiting for her to regain her breath. Needless to say that you were euphoric to release as well, which led you to pull out of her gently, and after giving yourself a few strokes, you reached your high as thick ropes of your cum landed just outside Wanda's entrance and her inner thighs. You Guessed this was the closest to getting to heaven as you can get.

"Fuck.. that was.. was great." Wanda panted, looking up to see you trying to smile while you regained your breath, then gently moved off her to lay beside her. You would follow up on what she said, but she stood up and went to the bathroom. "You alright?" You asked, concerned that you might have hurt her with your roughness. But again, no response from her.

You got up and followed her into the bathroom after sliding on your boxers, where Wanda had gotten one of your towels to clean herself up. You stood there waiting for her to acknowledge you, but she did not react as if you weren't there. You sighed before taking the initiative to break the uncomfortable silence. "Hey." You spoke almost like a middle schooler talking with their crush for the first time.

The nun stopped her actions, looking down after finally acknowledging you. Wanda sighed and looked back up at the mirror in front. "It's just," She gritted her teeth. "Fuck," She muttered, letting the towel hit the floor. "I have to return to my boring life as a nun." Her words expressed impotence and frustration.

You stayed quiet, imagining Wanda's daily torment of being somewhere she didn't want. A literal place that can be a dream killer. Well, you didn't have to. Living in the same old boring town took away your will to live mentally. But it was nothing compared to what Wanda has been through.

"Maybe you don't have to, Wanda," You picked up the towel and put it around Wanda's shoulder to cover her. Your words made her look at you with curiosity and perhaps a bit of hope, which she needed at this time. "Why don't we leave this shitty place together?" You offered, as shock and confusion plastered on her face.

"What do you mean?" She asked, still trying to understand what you had said.

"Fuck whatever we have here. Let's leave somewhere else where we can be ourselves and leave all this behind." You said as you realized what some of her concerns could be. Also, the fact that you barely knew each other. "There is no easy way to explain, but just think about it."

Wanda said nothing but was attentive to your words. She said nothing at first, but the smile that started to creep on her face was enough to confirm that she had already made her decision, and it would be one that would change something for both.

[d1s1ntegrated]

hiii, 🧸 anon here!

i was wondering if you could write shig celebrating his s/o’s birthday hcs pretty please 🙏 it’s my birthday today & i lowkey just want love from him as my only gift hahah

thank youu ♡

happy birthday pretty babe! a fellow leo i see 🫶

and obv, absolutely i can!

shigaraki x reader!bday edition (some light nsfw ;) )

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ

shigaraki didn't typically care about birthdays. being raised by AFO meant that his birthday consisted of the same daily routine, trained to pretend it didn't even exist.

but after growing and living with the League for so long, he relearned the significance of them (mostly for toga, since she was so young. the older members wanted her to be happy as much as possible.)

your birthday, he learned, was today- and he was VERY ill-prepared.

he panicked and asked kurogiri to bring him out- explaining he NEEDED to spoil you

"tomura shigaraki, it would not be wise to be in public right now"

"i don't give shit. i'm getting them something."

scrambling, he consulted toga and spinner on what to get you. he got overwhelmed and ended up stealing a whole bunch of shit, unsure of what you'd want most.

he decided he was also going to try his damnedest to make you a cake.

quickly he faced the dilemma of not knowing how to bake. or cook at all for that matter.

"what's the difference between a dry and a liquid measure?? it's the same fucking thing!"

so with the help of a very clumsy twice and toga, you had a cake sitting on the bar top when you arrived. and a heaping of very poorly wrapped gifts.

shigaraki, sitting nervously on a barstool, biting his nails, gives you a very gentle and quiet "happy birthday"

there weren't a lot of words you could really muster the courage to say, so instead you kissed him and smiled.

he didn't protest it, but when you pulled away, he pointed at the pile and eagerly waited for you to open them

a headset was first- one that matched his.

"i knew you needed a new pair"

then a matching controller, plushies, and a switch game.

"you can use mine and we can play it together...if you want"

when you noticed the cake, you busted out in laughter and took a picture of it. but at that point, he couldn't wait any longer, and grabbed your hand.

"i have one more for you"

you were practically dragged into his bedroom, tossed onto his bed, and he shoved a small box into your hands.

in it was a little necklace, with a pendant with half of a controller on it.

he yanked at his shirt collar and pulled out a match, the other half of it, and nervously scratched at his neck as you put yours on.

"i love it" was the only thing you could say as you hugged him- for being so villainous, he really was a cheesy fuck sometimes.

once it was around your neck, he yanked you in by it and kissed you, tongue searching your mouth aggressively as he pushed you down into the mattress

"i lied. two more gifts" he whispered in your ear before wrapping you in his arms and rutting into you, making you see stars over and over again.

the cake was actually pretty good, too.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ

:D again, happy birthday 🧸!! (i wrote this fast so i could get it out asap for u <3)

[pikachic]

Hi it's me again. TMA/POKÉMON AU??? YES HELLO PARDON ME I NEED TO THROW MYSELF AT THIS OCCULUS AU YOU'VE GOT GOING ON IF YOU DONT MIND

*BUSTS DOWN THE DOOR* I’M SO GLAD YOU ASKED

I’ve had this AU simmering away for a while and but haven’t posted that much about it, so thank you for the excuse to scream about my extremely self indulgent Pokémon x The Magnus Archives AU

*ahem*

Introducing:

POKÉMON OCULUS

(Here’s an illustration I did after getting your ask - Champion Jonathan and his ace Pokémon, Vigitera!)

This AU is set in the Ervenis Region, a relatively small island region off the coast of Galar. It closed its borders two years prior to the main storyline, shortly after its Champion went missing during a series of attacks in its major cities and his predecessor was found murdered. Since then, an acting Champion has been instated and the borders have been reopened, but the Champion still has not been found. Most Ervenisans believe he is dead.

However, the Ervenis Champion isn’t as dead as everyone thinks, and his disappearance is only the first in long chain of events that will shake Ervenis to its very core, orchestrated by a man who aims to rule over a ruined world governed by nothing but his own will and the fear of people and Pokémon alike, and who will stop at nothing to bring that goal into reality.

More lore under the cut!

(Some of the AU-specific names and terms might be placeholders in that I haven’t been able to come up with anything better lmao)

(Also some of the art might be a bit old)

General Lore Stuff

Jon is the Champion who went missing, and Gertrude is his murdered predecessor.

Martin is Ervenis’ Pokémon Professor

Martin being the Professor is literally perfect.

Be. Because.

All of the Pokemon Professors (except for the newest ones) are named after trees.

And Martin’s last name is BLACKWOOD. Which is an ACTUAL TREE.

(My first rough attempt at drawing Jmart in the Pokémon art style)

Also jmart are extremely married

They’re Ervenis’ favorite power couple

(Professor Blackwood for half of the main plot: *sighs.* …I miss my husband. I miss him a lot. I’ll be back.)

Their Pokémon ship name would be Londonfogshipping

Martin has a Galvantula (most likely a regional form), a Sinistea, a Frosslass, and a Togekiss

Jon, in addition to AU-specific Fakemon, has a Gardevoir and a Luxray

Jon also has a shiny Appletun on his team and Martin has a Flapple. Make of that what you will :D

Also yes there are Fakemon in this thing

I have never designed any Fakemon before except for one thirty-minute period of time from when I was ten but I’m not going to let that stop me

(Initial Fakemon sketches! Three guesses as to which characters get Sqwyrm and Manickregus and the first two don’t count)

(Also Ervenisan Yamask has another form, which evolves into Ervenisan Cofagrigus which is inspired by the Do Not Open coffin)

(I have a whole list of Fakemon designs I want to make but 90% of them aren’t fleshed out at all)

Tim and Sasha are Professors in their own right, and also Martin’s assistants/fellow researchers

Tim has a Houndoom because I saw another TMA Pokémon AU that gave him one and I really liked the idea, he also has a Ludicolo because I lost a debate with my friend who is also into both TMA and Pokémon

Sasha has a Dartrix and a Meowstic

Most of the Avatars are gym leaders

(Yippee gym leader designs!)

(Not pictured because I ran out of steam before I could draw them: Michael and Helen, who run a double Electric-type gym; Daisy, who runs a Dragon-type gym; Karolina, who runs a Ground-type gym; and Jared, who runs a Normal-type gym)

Elias is the acting Champion in Jon’s absence and the secret leader of Team Chrysalis

The current Elite Four consists of Peter, Simon, Maxwell, and Annabelle

You might have noticed that Jon and the gym leaders are all wearing (mostly) black pendants/brooches

This is part of the Ervenis’ region’s “gimmick:”

Metafestation (which is. Almost definitely a placeholder name)

Skilled trainers can use special items called Metalenses to tap into the psyches of Pokemon and Trainer to manifest the shape of their desires and the power of their emotions in reality.

You basically give the Pokémon a JoJo Stand

Each Metalens must be specially shaped and cut to suit unique trainers and Pokémon, and since using poorly made Metalenses may have disastrous consequences on its users, only a handful of people have the qualifications and legal authorization to do so

(Gerard Keay is one of these people!)

Metalenses are usually worn as pendants or brooches so they’re close to the user’s heart

For the Metafestation power-up to be strongest, the trainer and Pokémon must have a shared goal/desire and a deep bond

(This bond does not have to be a positive one. It just needs to be strong.)

These Metafestations have their own typing system, though no one’s been able to figure out exactly what it is yet.

It’s the Fears. The Fears are the typing system.

Though most users of this system aren’t aware of it, Metafestation comes from achieving a delicate balance of both desire and fear.

When I first came up with this idea, it was JUST Fear, but I felt like that was a bit dark for frickin POKÉMON so I added the desire aspect

After all, what we fear and and what we desire often go hand in hand

You desire safety because you fear its absence, you desire light because you fear the dark, you desire freedom because you fear being confined, etc.

For example, Professor Blackwood desires companionship, and fears being forgotten. Most of the Metafestations he and his Pokémon create are foggy and cold, but in a way soothing at the same time.

Though a small handful of them are spindly and laced with puppet strings and reflect his desire to wield his cunning for good.

(However, he hasn’t been able to properly use his Metalens in years. The first and only time he tried after his husband vanished, it backfired horribly, consuming both him and his Pokémon in a chilling fog and sending them spiraling into unconsciousness. It took weeks for them to recover, and Professor Blackwood bears a physical scar of the incident in the streaks of stark white in his hair.)

Of course, most people don’t have just one desire/fear. The Metalens just channels the strongest ones, and most users don’t achieve more than three separate tertiary types of power-ups.

One of the biggest exceptions is Jon.

He desires many things: Safety, love, knowledge. He also fears many things: Being manipulated and controlled, abandonment, the unknown.

When he was a child, something happened to him that scarred his psyche in such a way that he could channel all of his desires and fears.

It’s what makes him such a potent conduit for the power-up system, and what makes him a prime target for:

Team Chrysalis

Team Chrysalis is a criminal organization/sort of cult disguised as something innocent: The Magnus Institute, the region’s main research institution that Professor Blackwood works at

The AU’s main plot gets kicked off when Professor Blackwood finds evidence that his husband, the missing Champion, is still alive

If this were a real game, the main story on the side of doing the gym challenge would be helping Professor Blackwood look for clues about Jon’s whereabouts and about The Magnus Institute’s hidden goals

Professor Blackwood also figures out that it’s very likely that Elias had a hand in Jon’s disappearance

(Professor Blackwood for the other half of the main plot: *slams down the Do Not Open coffin in front of Elias* It’s a coffin. There’s a name engraved on it. “WHORE!” IT’S EMPTY!! *grabs Elias by the collar* AND YOU’RE GOING IN IT!!!)

The Elite Four are also part of Team Chrysalis and fully on board with its plan

Though Annabelle might have her own machinations going on

Team Chrysalis plans to reshape the world as they see fit by summoning a Legendary Pokémon that’s a warped physical manifestation of the fears and desires of all living creatures, and simultaneously embodies and feeds on those fears and desires

(It’s basically all the Fears mashed into one eldritch monstrosity)

(I’m mildly worried this sounds too similar to some existing legendaries but at the same time I’m just spitballing and having fun here)

To summon this Legendary, they need a lynchpin capable of channeling all of those fears and desires

This lynchpin is Jon because of course it is.

Team Chrysalis’ whole plan actually only serves to grant Elias immortality and make him king of a ruined world but shhh none of the team members know that

I have zero idea what the Legendary would look like, I just have the fact I want it to have “Pan” in its name

The climax of the story comes when Team Chrysalis starts their ritual and the end of the world. In order to stop them, their Vessel and the Legendary must be defeated.

You are challenged by The Archivist!

The Really Self Indulgent Part

I started working on this at the same time that my friend was watching through XY for the first time

So at some point when coming up with all of the story stuff my brain went “what if I stuck Ash Ketchum into the story?”

So Ash is there now. For some reason lol

He’s 19 now and is just doing his thing and traveling the world

As usual, he takes on the player’s role, challenging gyms and helping Professor Blackwood in his investigation and eventually helping him take on Team Chrysalis

(I made this shitpost in like. Less than an hour lmao)

Ash is so done with these evil team leaders trying to destroy the world

Greninja is also there because tHIS IS MY AU AND I DO WHAT I WANT *MANIACAL LAUGHTER*

And I think that’s it for an overview of Pokémon Oculus!

I have a bunch more stuff for this AU, mostly spitballs and WIP writing snippets, and I do plan on making more art and Fakemon designs eventually (especially now that I’m getting better at emulating the Pokémon art style)

Thank you for reading this far, and feel free to ask me anything about this AU! :D

[matthewswifeyy]

After awhile you went quiet, and I got mean 4

Summary: Exgirlfriend!reader lives with S4!rafe. She constantly has to watch rafe treat someone better and it finally gets to her

Part 1 part 2 Part 3 part 5

Rafes pov

I was enjoying my drink when I heard footsteps behind me and a voice calling my name. I put glass down and look behind me. I see topper walking up behind me. I roll my eyes and turn back to my drink.

Of course she went to him.

“Yo what the fuck is up with you huh” he said patting my shoulder.

“Nothing” I said shrugging his hand off me.

“Nothing huh. So you’re just kicking Y/n out for no reason.” He said sitting down next to me.

“There was a reason alright” I told him leaning back in my chair.

“I know you two have been arguing rafe but come on. You know she has no where and no one to go to.”

“That’s a lie.” I scoffed.

“Rafe are you kidding me.”

“What topper.” I said turning my head my towards him.

“This is Y/n we are talking about here. Not some random.”

“I know topper.” I said before calling the bartender over. “Get me another one”

“And you don’t care about how she’s doing after that at all.”

“She out of my hands” I said as the bartender placed another full glass of whiskey in front of me.

“I give up at this point. Will you at least try and talk to her about it. Whether you wanna make things right or not.”

“Will it get you to leave me alone about it.” I looked at him.

“Yes”

“Then fine i will talk to her. Tell her to meet me at my place tomorrow at 3.” I said before downing my drink and walking towards my car.

I really did want to talk to her. I just had to seem like I didn’t care to topper because of his big mouth.

I miss what I had with Y/n. I really do. Now I feel like I’m a complete idiot for kicking her out because of Sofia just for me to break up with her not even 10 minutes after she left.

I started my car and drove home.

Readers pov

I was sitting in the guest bed reading my book until there was a knock on the door.

“Come in” I said placing my book on the night stand next to the bed while topper busted into the room.

“He said he will talk to you tomorrow at his place at 3” he said quickly.

“Topper are you serious. I said I wanted to know what was going on with him. I don’t want to make things right with him!” I said to him.

“Oh” he said quietly before leaving.

I groaned and threw my head back into the pillows.

———

I was now getting ready to go on a date with a guy I met at the island club. His name was Jackson. I’ve seen him around before but I’ve never talked to him.

I’m extremely excited to say the least. All these years it been rafe. I’m glad it someone new.

I finished my hair, outfit, and makeup and it was now time for jewelry. I picked out a beautiful pair of small gold hoops. I now looked at my necklace options. I stared at the gold necklace with a small heart pendant that rafe got me many years ago.

I sighed as I picked it up. I bit my lip as I continued to stare at it contemplating putting it on.

Fuck it

I undid the clasp and brought it around my neck. I clasped it and brought my hands down to my side. I looked at myself in the mirror as I continued to chew at my lip.

I turned away from the mirror and grabbed my purse from off the bed. I walked out of the guest room and into the living room.

“Where are you going” topper said from the kitchen.

“A date.”

“With who?” He questioned.

“Jackson Moore.” I said proudly.

“You’re joking right. That douche.” Topper said as he tilted his head at me.

“What he seems nice.” I said as a knocked came from the front door.

I walked towards the door to open it to Jackson.

“Hey”

“Hi” I said with a smile.

“You uh ready to go.”

“Yeah” I say nodding my head.

I walked out the door and closed it behind me. I follow behind Jackson to his car. He opened the door for me and gestured me to get in.

I smiled at him before getting in. He closed the door and walked in front of the car and got in the car.

After about a 5 minute drive we had arrived to the island club. Jackson got out of the car while I gathered my stuff. I waited for the door to open but it never did. I looked out the window and saw Jackson waiting for me.

What the fuck is wrong with this guy

I opened the door and got out. Closing the door before walking over to Jackson.

“Sorry couldn’t find my purse.” I lied to save myself from the embarrassment.

“It’s okay” he said before wrapping his arm around my waist as he lead us toward the entrance.

“Table for Moore.” Jackson told the host.

“Okay right this way.” The host lead us to a table in the back corner of the island club. Jackson pulls my chair out and sits in his seat.

“Thank you” I said quietly.

Our date was going great. We ordered our food and talked. We currently were sitting in a comfortable silence waiting for the bill.

“I have a question Y/n” Jackson said breaking the silence.

“What’s up”

“I know that you and rafe aren’t on the best terms but I was wondering if you would want to go with me to his party tomorrow night.” He asked me.

“Um sure. You won’t have to pick me up though. All of my stuff is at his place still so I’ll probably get ready there if that’s okay with you.”

“Oh that’s okay.” He said as the host dropped the bill of at the table.

As he signed the bill as I grabbed my purse. I took one last sip of my wine before standing up. Jackson came up behind and put his hand on the small of my back.

“Shall we go, my lady.” Jackson joked.

That was something rafe would always say whenever we finished our dates.

“Yeah” I said with a fake laugh.

We walked to the car and saw rafe sitting at the bar. He turned around and locked eyes with mine. I quickly looked away.

Rafes pov

Jackson Moore.

He’s been on my shit list since 8th grade. He always has been going after everything I do.

I’m not surprised he’s with her. He probably only likes her because I dated her.

I was finishing my drink when I heard my phone ping.

Y/n:I’m coming to your place at 8 instead of 3.

Rafe:why

Y/n:I’m going to your party with Jackson. I have to get ready there because all of my stuff is there. We can talk then.

Rafe: k

I sighed and shoved my phone in my pocket before leaving the island club.

————————————————————————

Taglist: @tincanhat @maybankslover @esposamultifandom

[arminsumi]

WHEW🚴 can i request corrupting canon verse armin??? sure, he’s seen his fellow soldiers go in and out of brothels but that’s so indecent to him!!! :( poor boy doesn’t get the hype of sex and even how good it feels, maybe armin had an occasional wet dream but he’s too focused on his work to know how an orgasm feels or how to pleasure others… UNTIL Y/N PULLS UPPP😶‍🌫️

thank you sm i adore your writing

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

ARMIN x f.reader

Warnings; 🔞 MDNI, smut

Kinks; masturbation, oraljob (reader giving), inxperienced Armin x experienced reader, accidental edging, unprotected sex, creampie, kinda sub!armin and soft dom!reader

A/N; WHEEE this request had me holding my breath 😩💕 ty i hope u like what i did with it mwaaa

It just didn't occur to armin that he could touch and stroke his cock whenever it got stiff. That needy feeling persistently nagged him, but he paid it no mind like a good and disciplined soldier and went back to his duties.

Sometimes he'd look confusedly at his sheets in the morning after waking, wondering why there was a small puddle on his sheets of this creamy white... milk? No, that couldn't be milk, it was the wrong consistency, and it also didn't taste like milk, as he discovered.

It was curious that, when he was around you, his cock got stiff. And stubbornly so. Sometimes while talking to you, he felt it begin to strain against the black fabric of his uniform dress pants.

When you confronted him about it, he stuttered and attempted to explain himself sophisticatedly. "I don't know, it gets like this when I talk to you... when I think about you."

How cute. But you knew more than he did, poor innocent angel that he was. You offered to help him out, and he accepted with a nervous gulp.

"Wh-what are you getting on your knees for? You're gonna hurt your knees and — it's — it's cold!" he looked at you confusedly.

"Oh, Armin, don't worry. I'm gonna teach you how to take care of yourself, m'kay?" you smiled, your thighs pillowing flat as you kneeled before him.

You looked up at him. What a damn good-looking man, so handsome in his uniform with that pendant around his neck.

When he first felt your lips engulf his hard cock, he visibly melted and went straight to heaven. A staggering moan escaped his lips, but he had no idea why he made that sound. "Sorry... that was, um, involuntary?" he apologized through ragged breaths.

When you pulled away and he saw the sloppy mess of saliva left on his cock, he busted right there. Hot, creamy ropes of cum shot all over your tongue and mouth.

His chest heaved up and down, he tried to catch his breath and apologize at the same time.

"I-I don't know why I — how did I — I'm so sorry, it got all over you! Let me get you a towel!" and he scurried off to get you one.

After that life-changing experience, Armin practiced jerking himself off a few times. He was starting to get an idea of how good sex must be, and why his fellow soldiers snuck off to brothels so often.

Sometimes he felt shameful when he got hard, and avoided touching himself.

He had to really distract himself.

So he'd do some pushups and get into a sweaty workout. But he'd be rock hard throughout it, his cock aching and nagging to be touched. You at the forefront of his mind, of course.

In the shower one day, he finally gave into his desires and stroked himself off. Rivulets of piping hot water ran down the contours of his physique, precum spurted out his reddened cockhead. The veins showed up all over.

Each stroke became faster and faster as he tried to chase that familiar feeling to the finish line. He threw his head back and let the water wash over his face, let it run down his neck, his chest, his abs... his tummy flexed at the sensation of fucking his hand.

His cock twitched at the memory of your lips. And his thoughts? All he could think about was how it would feel to have sex with you. How it would feel to actually be between your soft thighs, to have you take his cock.

"Hey! Miiin? You in there?" you called.

He stopped immediately, hissing because he just unknowingly accidentally edged himself.

"Yeah! Just a minute!" he yelled in response.

He hastily turned the water off and wrapped a towel around his waist.

How annoying... his cock made a tent.

His tip nuzzled against the soft fabric, making a tickling sensation. "Shit..." he mumbled.

He had to calm down before presenting himself to you. But he just couldn't. So instead he compromised and folded his hands over that region, so he could press his cock down and look normal.

"What is it?" he innocently poked his head around the corner.

You motioned for him to come out quickly. It was just some small favor that you needed him for — fixing a tiny ODM gear mechanic.

"I should repay you in advance. Wanna take that towel off?" you asked cheekily.

His ears perked up. His heart raced — it went nuts. His cock only just started calming down, now it made a tent again with the towel. Armin flushed bright red and half-heartedly concealed his hard-on, but you pulled his hands away.

"Don't be ashamed, Armin, it's totally normal. I get it." you said.

"Sorry... I-I gues I just... I like you a lot?"

"Mmm... i think it's a bit more than that." you said. "you wanna fuck me, don't you?"

He audibly swallowed and stared at you dumbfoundedly with those baby blue eyes. He nodded and weakly responded with a small and shy "Y-yeah... I do."

"Well, c'mon, I'm right here. Give it to me." you said, hopping on his bed, pulling off your panties from under your uniform skirt.

Armin's eyes went big. His dick was so hard that it hurt.

"Come here." you beckoned him. He didn't hesitate.

Soon you had him kneeling on the bed, staring curiously as your pretty plush thighs parted for the blond soldier. Your dirty smile was so inviting to him, but —

"What... what exactly am I supposed to do?" he asked.

"Fuck me." you giggled.

"But... how?" he blinked.

You giggled louder.

He let out a gasp when you reached for his cock, tugging on it a bit. "Put this," you said, "in here." you spread your legs wider to display your soaked pussy.

That sight made him widen his eyes. He stuttered, "Oh... o-okay, I'll try?"

The poor boy, it took him a while to... ahem... find the hole. And when his tip first pushed past your supple lower lips, he came immediately. He came a lot. It felt like he burst inside you.

"Ooh, you've never felt pussy before, huh?" you teased.

Well, it wasn't only that; he had just edged himself in the shower.

"N-no, I haven't. I-I don't really know what I'm doing. c-can you guide me? Please?" he pleaded cutely.

"Of course, come closer; push it deeper. Mhm, there, like that, keep going. Deeper, deeper — there we go — oh fuck — you're thick."

"Is that a good thing...?"

"Mhm, definitely. Ah, okay, thrust your hips now, just imagine you're doing those ODM gear warmup exercises, Y'know what I'm talking about?"

"Y-yeah. Ah fuck... like this?"

You rolled your eyes back and he groaned. His cock was pulsating. It felt so damn good all over, he felt all this dopamine rushing through his brain.

"Oh — oh — yes — fuck, ohmygod— Armin, keep doing that."

You kept guiding him through the motions until... well, until he figured it out and ended up fucking you dumb.

You didn't expect that. But that's so Armin of him; he's a quick learner, of course after a little sex lesson he'd know exactly what to do, and excel at it. Well, some of it was also just primal instinct.

Your plush pussy engulfed him and squeezed out more of his creamy cum. It got messy, so messy.

His forehead beaded with sweat, dampening his bangs and causing them stick to his skin.

Fully flushed. Breath short — he panted as he easily came a third time inside you.

His thrusts made your eyes roll back, hard, and your pussy clenched around him like it never wanted to let go. Just a few more strokes and you felt yourself gushing and shaking under him.

"Oh my god..." he whimpered at the sight of you cumming for him.

He wanted to make you do that again and again — he got a little addicted to sex with you after that, some days he'd come pawing on your skirt with these pleading, lustful eyes.

[clown-paws]

> hav a siblings. cuz they're cool.

> ID below and in alt text -

[Image Description: Two traditional, bust sketches of Jonny D'ville and Nastya Rasputina from The Mechanisms.

Image 1: Nastya has light skin, with short stubble on her jaw and chin. Her hair is tied back into a loose ponytail and she has a low undercut that starts just above her ear. A few strands lie on the forhead and around her temple. She is wearing a button up shirt, rectangular glasses, a black choker and two necklaces, one of which has a cat pendant. She is at a 3/4 angle to the right and looking at the viewer curiously, with one eyebrow raised.

Image 2: Jonny has light skin with black veins coming from his eyes, a mustache and short goatee. He has a sort of mullet, pushed back by his goggles. His ears are pointy. He's wearing a button up shirt and collard vest, which are drawn without much detail. He is looking off to the side, downwards to something below him, and grinning with furrowed brows. Text beside his head reads "He's having fun [heart]" in all capitals.

Corner of Image 2: A small doodle of Jonny and Nastya. Jonny is about half a head shorted than Nastya and is wrapping his right arm around her shoulders, pulling her down. He looks very smug with his eyes closed and smiling, and a hand on his hip. Nastya looks angry and shocked, with her mouth agape and visible arm flailing. The sketch cuts off at both of their belts.

End ID.]

[ixdoll]

dividers/banners by @anitalenia, thank you!

᭪─── Victor Van Dort × Reader ˎˊ˗

warnings: suggestive, mentions of a female body

It was the last thing he could give you before ultimately disappearing from your life for good. It was funny to you, funny in a way that twisted your heart until it blocked the crimson blood from pumping throughout your body. The same blood that ran cold once you found out about his engagement.

You never thought you'd be met with such circumstances, considering the long history you've had with your dear Victor. Maybe it was all just child's play and he didn't care about you like you did him, but we both know that it just wasn't true. Earlier that morning, hours before the ceremony, he visited your estate, it took a few knocks before you were at the door at his beck and call, basking in the great shadow his thin figure cast. Even now, you wonder what went through his mind when giving you the pendant. Was it supposed to hold you back? Keep you chained to his ankle until his bones wither away into dust?

Apart from your hellish dilemma, the jewel was quite beautiful. Silver chains hung on your neck and over the hill that is your collarbone and finally met with a handsome crystal laid against the valley leading down to your breasts (you felt like a slave to his heart, damn). You wanted to thank him and jump into his arms while ensuring him that all was forgiven but you could only look down while pitying yourself for having waited this long to tell him anything. So you didn't, no words needed to be exchanged, especially if both your mouths locked onto each other. It was a silent yet passionate message being made to you, his tongue curved and ran across the bumps that are your taste buds, savoring the print hoping it'd be imbedded into his long-term memory.

It didn't take long for the two of you to be standing in your bedroom, naked and vulnerable. It wasn't different really, as your previous conversations ran deep within your bone marrow and always stuck with you, like a souvenir only for your heart and mind. He was the first to touch your body, he ran his bony fingers over the ample curves of your stomach, and then up to your bust, and finally rested upon your nipple, circling the gentle bumps around the darker skin.

Author's Note: I haven't seen any Victor fics at all, so I wanted to add my own. This is based on ashmatsu's amazing fic on A03 linked below.

[shovelbug]

I see your requests are open !!

Could you do an Amethio x Admin! Reader ,?

Like the reader is also part of the Explorers and is another admin, (I'm sure yk what I ment, but just wanted to clarify that,)

a/n: here you go! gonna combine these two reqs.

-

You've been an admin under Gibeon alongside Amethio for a while now.

While you know the morality of your job is… questionable, at best, you really felt that you had no other choice.

Your family had a habit of not being communicative. They weren't bad people, but they had a very hands-off approach.

Realizing this at a young age, you kinda… vanished without a trace.

Which you know is also bad and hypocritical! But, knowing how your family operates, it was the only way you could think to protect your little sister.

You still kept an eye on her from a distance where you could, wanting her to find her own independence while staying safe.

You knew that the pendant your grandmother had entrusted her with held some greater secret, and secrets like that tended to attract the wrong type of attention.

You hoped that in joining the Explorers, you could take over the pendant mission yourself, to preserve your baby sister's safety.

At least she had that Nyahoja of hers. It was a fickle little thing, but it cared about her, which eased your mind a little.

And for a while, it did seem like you were going to get the mission. You worked hard and were a strong trainer, and you being the one to approach her would make her much more likely to trust her and give it to you.

That's how you presented it to Gibeon, anyways.

It hurt your heart to do this to your sibling who you adored, especially after up and leaving seemingly out of nowhere. But it was better than the alternative.

And then Amethio got the mission.

Internally, you were freaking out. You had half the mind to bust into wherever in the world Gibeon was and give him a piece of your mind.

That would undo all your hard work up to this point, though, so you refrain.

Luckily enough for you though, your relationship with Amethio is much more amicable than that of the other Admins.

You were similar in age, and you never took unnecessary shots at him when the other Explorers were dog piling on him, even defending him at some points.

You were no saint, but you weren't a monster.

You had trained with him too, and that time together translated into you being a strong and efficient team, so you got assigned on missions together often. That strengthened your bond further.

Eventually, you pretty bluntly asked him out once you realized your feelings, never one to beat around the bush.

He accepted, which surprised both of you a little.

Your relationship is very much so on the down-low, though. You have no doubt that if word got out in the explorers it would be used against you.

Except for Zir and Conia. They both know, but only because you trust them to keep a secret.

It's an unconventional relationship, and you two take it slow and steady. You both are happy, though, so that's what matters.

You're more level-headed and tend to get straight to the point, so when Amethio tries to bottle things up or gets caught up in his mistakes you shut that down fast.

In turn, he'll often lend a listening ear to your troubles and go out of his way to do things for you (missions you don't like, grabbing some snack you mentioned craving, etc.)

Sometimes he's not the best with words or being affectionate, so he shows his care through actions most of all.

Back to the point, you're understandably distraught when Amethio gets the pendant mission instead of you. You're pacing around your quarters after the meeting when Amethio stops by.

He holds you close as you cling onto him, unsure what to say. He wishes he could fix this for you.

You can't be upset at him, not really. He's just as stuck in this position as you are.

Eventually, you pull away from him, rubbing at your face.

“Don't hurt her. Please.“

“I will make sure she is unharmed, I promise. You have my word.”

You nod, satisfied. You trust Amethio. He and his grunts seem to be the only other half decent people here.

Neither of you can begin to expect how things will unfold, but Liko does put up more of a fight than either of you expect, and Amethio returns to HQ empty-handed.

A part of you can't help feel a little (a lot) proud of how much your little sister has grown.

You review the footage of Liko's Nyahoja and her (frankly scarily) powerful Leafage.

Turning to your partner Pokemon, you hum, amused.

“This will be interesting, don't you think, Meowscarada?”

Your Magician Pokemon purrs in agreement.

[leviscxmkitten]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ SANDBOX LOVE [CHAPTER 2] ⋆⭒˚.⋆

Summary:

“I’ll come back for you.” Levi had promised, with a pinky wrapped around her own, and then his lips pressed against hers in a hasty kiss. It wasn’t their first but it was different, this time felt real.

His uncle pulled him away, and he was gone. The air was thick and heavy without him but his last words left her with a sliver of comfort, the feeling of his lips lingered like a second skin. The seemingly unfriendly little boy she had met and grown with, the first boy she loved - she watched him peddle away with misty eyes. That was her first heartbreak, the one she never saw coming.

He didn’t keep his promise.

It’s been 11 years since childhood best friends Levi and Azalea last saw each other. Now college students, what were the odds of them reuniting? Will old feelings bring them closer than before, or will it create a greater distance between them?

Cover art by Sumiensp on Twitter! 🤍

Azalea's not quite sure how much time has passed after her friends leave when she hears a knock; being too preoccupied with unpacking, and occasional coffee breaks. She rushes toward her door, standing on her toes as she peeks through the peephole when she recognizes Ilyana, and swings the door open.

"Oh, hey!" 

"Hey girl," Ilyana says, and Azalea catches sight of a bottle of wine being cradled in her arms. "I thought I'd bring by a welcome gift, and offer some help unpacking as a thank you for last night." 

Azalea smiles gratefully. "Thank you, yeah, that would actually be really great, come on in." She says, and steps aside to let Ilyana stride inside. 

"Looks cute in here already," She says as she walks in and sets the bottle onto the counter. "What can I help with?"

"Well you're just in time to help hang up some lights," Azalea says playfully as she pulls out an unkept mess of Christmas lights. "Or at least be here to dial 911 if I bust my ass doing it."

"Two short girls hanging up lights? Sounds totally doable," Ilyana laughs, helping to untangle the wires. "So, what're you coming to Paradis for?" 

"Oh, I'm majoring in psychology. I figured why not get extra credits for graduation here at one of the best universities in the country." 

"No fuckin' way." 

Azalea peaks over at Ilyana, her jaw dropped with an astonished look on her face. "Uhh -"

"I'm a psychology major too!" 

"You're lying." 

"I'm so serious!" She laughs and they both work on hanging up the lights around the balcony door. "That's perfect though, now I'll have back up when giving my friends unsolicited advice about all their behavioral problems." 

"Oh, I've absolutely got your back. That is one of my favorite activities, Isabel and Furlan always hated when I'd go brutally honest therapist mode on them." Azalea laughs, kneeling down to open up another box.

"Oh my god, same! Just wait until you meet the squad, they're absolutely crazy. There's Jean and he's a complete ...." Ilyana's voice fades out and Azalea's heart nearly drops into her stomach as she pries open this box. Sitting right on top is an old kids shoe box covered in stickers and sharpie drawings. 

She didn't remember packing this up, thinking back it must have been one of her friends who did. In a way she's thankful — but it also reminds her of the little piece missing in her heart. As she opened it, that little yarn bracelet and pendant engraved with the letter "L" was right where she left it.

"Hey, everything okay?" She hears Ilyana say, her friend now sitting across from her.

"Oh yeah, sorry. I just —" She pauses for a moment before holding up the bracelet. "I didn't realize this was packed up."

Ilyana takes it in her hand, carefully studying the pendant. "L... is this from an ex friend? An old lover?!"

Azalea looks back in the box, seeing old candy wrappers and dried flowers, all tucked on top of his old sweatshirt; little things she had saved that reminded her of him. 

"It's just a bracelet from an old friend, his name is Levi. We were really close when we were kids but he moved away. I haven't seen him since I was... twelve I think?" She says with a shrug.

"But... you kept all this stuff for this long." Ilyana says, a hint of curiosity and implication in her tone. "He must've been special."

Azalea looks at her with a soft smile. "He was." She sighs. "You know, first kiss and all that."

"Oh my god, I'm so invested now." Ilyana says excitedly, handing back the bracelet. "So what happened? You never found a way to contact him again after he moved?" 

"Pretty much. We were so young we didn't have cell phones or any way to keep in touch, I don't think he even really knew where he was moving to, and well now we're adults so it is what it is. He'll always be special to me though." She smiles back at the pendant, tucking it back into the box. 

"Whoa. Your life could literally be a Taylor swift song, all you need is to find him again and boom, her next top chart song." Ilyana says lightheartedly.

Azalea laughs, "We'd better get some of the royalties then if that ever happened."

The apartment was a mess of half-opened boxes and scattered belongings, but Azalea learns a lot about Ilyana as they work. Talking about anything and everything, as if they had known each other for years; touching on their favorite movies and books, shows and music. They joked about their friendship being fated, that being neighbors and meeting last night was meant to be. 

Hours slipped by unnoticed; the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the room. Suddenly, Ilyana's phone buzzed incessantly, interrupting their flow. She sighed, rolling her eyes as she swiped through a barrage of messages.

"Jean is blowing up my phone," she says, exasperated. "He's at the bar down the road with Connie and Sasha, they're apparently having a wing eating contest and he's bored of them. Would you want to go meet them and get some food?"

Suddenly aware of just how hungry she is, Azalea nods. "God, yes. Let me just change and fix myself up."

"I'll apologize in advanced for the heavy flirting Jean will do with you, if you're not interested just let me know and I'll tell him you're off limits." Ilyana pauses, "or if you're looking for an easy hook up, more power to you." 

"I'm not really looking for anything honestly, but also not opposed to anything either?" She feels her face warm up, realizing how unsure of herself she sounds. 

"Well I got your back either way, I'll be your wing woman or bodyguard, just say the word." Ilyana winks.

They're ready and headed out before long; Azalea feels her anxiousness about being introduced to an already close-knit friend group, though she doesn't admit it. She only hopes she clicks with the rest of them as easily as she had with Ilyana.

The bar is only a ten minute walk from their apartments, the streets lit up, bustling with college students reuniting after the summer break. It's all so different from her hometown, she tries to hide her awe as she takes it all in.

The bar is packed from the first step in the door. Azalea's nerves intensified, but Ilyana grabs her hand, guiding her through the groups of people until they reach a booth in the back. There, Azalea sees a brunette girl with a ponytail at the edge of the booth, her mouth covered in sauce as she devoured wings like her life depended on it. Next to her is a man with short gray hair and a pierced eyebrow, struggling to keep up with her pace. They must be Sasha and Connie. At the inside of the booth is another man with a brown mullet and light facial hair, scrolling through his phone, evidently not paying any mind to the two next to him. So that's Jean; Ilyana was right about him being attractive, that's for sure.

As they approach the table, Jean looks up and quickly nudges Connie's arm muttering, "Be cool." He glances up, hastily wiping wing sauce from his mouth.

"Hey guys, this is Azalea." Ilyana says. "Azalea this is Sasha, Connie and —"

Jean quickly stands up, bumping the table in the process as he extends his hand out. Azalea shakes his hand, before she can pull away his lips are pressed to the top of it with a small smirk. "I'm Jean. Ilyana didn't mention she was going to bring a beautiful woman such as yourself." 

Azalea giggles nervously, feeling herself blush under his hazel gaze. Ten seconds in and she's already questioning her ability to handle this level of flirting, especially with how attractive he actually is.

"Jesus calm down beanstalk, she just got here." Connie mutters, jabbing Jean in the side.

"Shut up Caillou." Jean retorts, punching him in arm as he sits back down.

Connie's eyes widen, "That joke is ten years old, get some new ones dickwad." He mumbles before his attention turns to Ilyana, smiling at her. "Hey Ilyana."

"Hey Connie," Ilyana says quietly as she slides into the booth next to Azalea. 

"Done!" Sasha shouts suddenly, slamming her fists onto the table then sticking a sauce covered finger in Connie's face. "Suck it, loser!" 

"Yeah, yeah. Were you even paying attention?" Connie shoves her hand away. "Ilyana and Azalea are here." 

"Oh." Sasha looks up and waves. "Hey, I'm Sasha!" 

"It's nice to meet you." Azalea smiles and waves back.

"Well that was an amazing introduction, I told you they were crazy." Ilyana says, wrapping an arm around Azaleas' shoulder. "But now you'll be part of the craziness too, you can thank me later." 

Jean orders drinks and food for the table; and while everyone talks amongst each other Azalea catches his gaze rarely shifting off of her. It's been a while since she's had attention like this, she does her best to smile softly at him each time their eyes meet. 

"So how did you two meet?" 

"Oh we're neighbors, I moved into the apartment last night and bumped into Ilyana, we just hit it off." 

"Nice, well hopefully we'll have some classes together so we can see more of each other." Jean smiles cheekily. "You'll be coming to our house show on Friday, right?"

"House show?" Azalea raises an eyebrow. 

"After the game we have a house party and we preform; our band." Connie chimes in. 

"He's the drummer, and the singer is yours truly." Jean winks. "Then there's Eren and Ymir too, I'm sure you'll meet them sometime. So you'll come Friday, right?"

"Yeah, I'd love to." Azalea smiles. "What game plays?"

"The college soccer team." Ilyana says. "They're a big deal here, and the first game of the year is against the rival school so it's going to be huge."

"I heard Zeke is coming back this season. Has Eren confirmed?" Sasha asks.

"Yeah he is, he's going to be coming in hot for the captain after last years game." Connie grins. "I still can't believe such a short guy has so much power, how he managed to twist Zekes leg on the field was awesome." 

"I've never heard of soccer being the college sport, isn't it usually football or something?" 

"You'll just have to wait and see the game. I'll get your ticket, we can go together." Jean smiles, hopeful but confident. Azalea's heart beats a little faster. 

"We're all going to the game Mr. Lover boy." Connie states, making Ilyana giggle softly.

"Dude shut the fuck up." 

"I'd like that." Azalea laughs, smiling at how flustered Jean is. "It'll be fun."

It's nearly midnight by the time they leave the bar, getting too caught up in conversation to notice how much time passed. In the time they were there, everyone coordinated class schedules and planned to meet up during free period at the cafe for lunch, Jean took a picture of her and Ilyana to be virtually introduced to Eren, Mikasa, Ymir and Historia in their group chat; and Sasha, in her wing induced coma, was practically carried out by Jean and Connie. 

Finally in bed, Azalea settles down. Her mind at ease about starting classes, at least she knows she isn't going into her first day alone. She sends the picture Jean took to Furlan and Isabel, just to let them know she's doing okay. 

Suddenly her phone vibrates — expecting it to be their reply, she's surprised to see it's Jean. 

Goodnight gorgeous, it was nice meeting you tonight. I hope I'm lucky enough to see you in my dreams.

Azalea can't help but laugh at the text, her chest getting tight and face warm. This fresh start is looking better already.

[mischievouslittlecreature]

Part 12: Bloodied & Broken

Summary: Tommy continues to wait with bated breathe to see if Lucy will actually wake up.

Word Count: 3,170

Warnings: Gunshot wounds.

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Chapter 3: Trinkets

Tommy watched Esme move about the hospital room warily, bag slung over one shoulder and skirts swishing around her ankles. Adjusting the papers she’d handed him the moment she walked in, he crossed one leg over the other, balancing them against his knee.

Esme touched a fingertip to a leaf from the bouquet Ada had dropped by, now settled in a vase on Lucy’s bedside table. She picked up the stuffed bear where it was propped up against the vase, and looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Cute.”

“It’s from Ada,” he said, before she could get any ideas. Esme’s eyes sparkled a little with amusement as she set the bear back down. 

“I brought some things,” she reached into her bag, and pulled out a black madonna. “I know neither you or her really believe,” she looped the twine that held the pendant around the vase. “But I do.”  

Tommy hummed, watching her movements analytically. He was more on his guard this time. Not allowing himself to make the mistake of relaxing like he had with Ada. 

“And I brought some other things too. That might help. For luck and healing,” she started to dig deeper into her bag, carefully setting down little trinkets onto the table. Tommy fiddled with the edges of the papers while he watched her. It was a nice thought. And couldn’t hurt. 

It had been a couple days since Lucy had come out of surgery, and she still hadn’t woken up yet. They could use all the luck they could get.   

Clearing his throat awkwardly, he looked down at his lap. “Thank you, Esme.”

She shot him a sage look. “My brains would likely be splattered across the betting shop wall if it weren’t for her,” she set the last little trinket down with a clink. “I owe her a debt.”

“Still. I know she’d appreciate it.”

Adjusting the strap on her shoulder, she nodded slowly. Her eyes flitted around the room, pausing on the cot set up beside Lucy’s bed. Where he’d been sleeping for the past couple of nights. 

Well, ‘sleeping’ was perhaps a generous term. He only dozed for fleeting moments at a time, constantly jerking awake at the slightest sounds coming from the hallway outside the room, or to check to make sure Lucy was okay. The nurses, after realizing that he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, had briefed him on the signs to keep an eye out for regarding infection or brain bleeding. That way he could call for them if he noticed anything. 

Eager to change the subject, he coughed into his fist, pulling a pen from his pocket to make marks and scribble his signature on the papers she’d brought. “How are things at the shop?”

“Fine. John and Arthur fixed the door. Put these big, fancy new locks on it. No one should be able to bust in like that again.”

“Good.”

He could feel Esme’s eyes boring into the side of his head while he finished marking up the papers she’d handed him.

“Polly wants to know if you have any idea when you will be back yet.”

His teeth grinded together at the mention of his aunt.

“I don’t think she’s trying to be presumptuous. She genuinely is just wondering. Some of the men get a little weird, you know. When they have to take orders from a woman.”

“I’m sure Polly can handle them.”

“Of course she can. She just wants to know for how long.”

“Yeah, well,” he sighed, scribbling the last signature and gathering the papers back up into a neat pile to hand to her. “I don’t know yet.”

Esme tucked the papers back into her bag, then looked at him, head angled a little to the side. Then she looked back over at Lucy. Taking a step forward, she gently rested her fingertips on Lucy’s forehead, murmuring something in Romani, too quietly under her breath for Tommy to hear. After a moment, she stepped back. 

“It’s nice for you to stay with her like this.”

Tommy shrugged awkwardly. “I promised I wouldn’t leave her,” he blinked, a little surprised at the admittance. Esme hummed.

“The others don’t always see things so clearly. I think Ada is starting to piece things together a little more, but she’s so busy with Freddie and Karl she’s not here enough to really see…”

Tommy shot her a sharp look. “See what?”

Esme did not balk at the challenge in his voice. Reaching out, she took his hand, opening his palm, and tracing her fingertips along the line of the scar covering it. 

“I noticed that yours and hers matched the first day we met,” she said softly, dropping his hand and lifting her own, fingers splayed so he could plainly see the scar on her own palm. “Just like me and John’s do.”

“Esme…” he warned, but she still didn’t back down.

“Don’t treat me as an idiot, Thomas. I know what a blood bond means.”

He closed his mouth, jaw working as he processed Esme’s words. “Have you told anyone?”

She snorted. “Of course not. But they’re not blind, Thomas. There’s no way Polly hasn’t noticed the matching scars on both of your palms.”

“I know.”

“John thinks you’re just fucking her. Arthur is oblivious. Ada is finally starting to put things together. Polly…Polly is still in denial a little, I think.”

“Denial?”

At his sharp gaze, her eyes just sparkled with mirth and sage wisdom. “She’s still clinging to a scrap of hope that Lucy doesn’t really mean all that much to you.”

“Is it really that terrible that I’ve actually managed to find someone who makes me happy?”

“For her? Yes, I think it would be. It threatens her position in the family. It means that there’s another woman in your life that you listen to even more than her.” 

“Fucking hell…”

“If it makes you feel any better, I think that Lucy saving our asses might’ve softened Polly just a tiny fraction in regards to her.”

Tommy shot her an unconvinced look. Esme cocked her head, dark, wise eyes assessing him uncannily. 

“You’re angry with her.”

“What was your first hint?” he asked sarcastically, leaning back in his chair with a huff. He looked back at Lucy, still sleeping. There was little more color to her cheeks, and her breaths seemed stronger. Not as shallow. “She could have at least sent some fucking flowers or something.”

“I don’t think it’s malicious. She’s just too proud for her own good, sometimes. All you Shelbys are. I see it in John too, on occasion. Maybe she just figures that the best thing she can do for you both is focus on running things so you don’t have to worry about anything regarding the business and can just focus on Lucy…”

Tommy shook his head. “I know how Polly feels about Lucy, Esme. Just like I know that once Polly’s made up her mind about someone, you’d sooner be more likely to convince a mountain to move than to get her to change her mind. She’d sooner knowingly drink poison than purposefully do something nice for her.”

“I think you’re being a little pessimistic.”

“I suppose we’ll see, eh?” 

Esme shrugged. “I ought to be getting back. John took the kids out to the fair, but they’ll be home for supper soon.”

“Right,” he rubbed his hands together, fingertips unconsciously tracing the bump of the scar on his palm, where the blade had sunk into his flesh and cut deep, before he and Lucy entwined their fingers together, wounds pressed tight to each other, blood pouring and running through one another’s veins. 

An unbreakable, sacred bond. Forever keeping them entangled. 

God, what was he going to do if she never woke up?

“Thank you for coming by,” he said, hoping that she didn’t notice the way his voice ever so slightly broke.

“Course,” Esme’s shoes clicked as she made her way towards the door. 

“Esme?” he called before she could pull it open. She turned back to him. “You won’t tell anyone, will you?”

“No.”   

He nodded, looking back to Lucy, still unmoving. Still sleeping. 

“We haven’t always seen eye to eye, you and me,” Esme said after a moment of watching him from the door. “I doubt that will change. But I’ve watched you with her,” she jerked her head towards Lucy. “From what I’ve seen, you’ve always been good to her. She’s lucky to have you watching over her.”

Tommy cleared his throat awkwardly, half tempted to remind her that if it weren’t for him, Lucy probably wouldn’t be laying in a hospital bed in the first place. But instead he said nothing, eyes remaining focused on his little red head where she laid, listening to the sounds of Esme’s shoes clicking as she stepped out the door, and made her way down the hall. 

∗ ∗ ∗

Her first coherent thought, when she woke up, was that it felt like she’d been hit by a bus.

It was like her head had been stuffed full of cotton, swimming and spinning a little. 

Sometimes, she thought that she heard voices. An angry woman, half shouting. A soothing Welsh lilt. But mostly, she just heard Tommy. Deep and gentle. Twinged with slight pleading. She struggled to hold onto it, to let the sound of him draw her back to wakefulness. But everytime, before she could fully make it there, she was dragged back down into sleep. 

But today she was able to hold on long enough to make it to full consciousness. Though it was not Tommy’s voice that helped to draw her back, but the steady, encompassing warmth around her right hand. She grabbed onto the sensation of it; how it soaked into her skin and heated her chilled fingers and the gentle, tender pet of a thumb swiping across her knuckles. 

Soon, she was able to sense enough to know that she was lying on her back, the smell of disinfectant and medicine lodged in her nose and blankets pulled up to her chest. 

Slowly, more and more of her mind started to rise from hibernation. 

And then, she felt the pain. 

It started at the back of her head, and ached throughout her entire body in a steady, distinct throbbing. There was a dullness to it, and her head still felt clouded and sluggish, likely not just a side-effect of sleep. She must be on some sort of drugs. Something bulky and a little scratchy was plastered to the back of her head. A bandage, maybe? 

Furrowing her brows in an attempt to recall what had happened hurt. And while she was awake, she had not yet opened her eyes. It felt as though her eyelids were weighed down with bricks. 

She remembered…she remembered…the betting shop floor. Blood. Pain. Fear. Convinced that she was going to die. Begging them not to leave her. And being left alone anyway. The ear-ringing crack of a gun going off. 

Oh, right. Gunshot wound to the head. She remembered now.

Something flexed around her hand, and it took her a moment to realize that something–someone–was firmly stroking their thumb along the scar on her palm. The one left from the blood bond she’d created with Tommy. 

With an Herculean effort, she peeled her eyes open, and almost immediately slammed them closed again, the bright lights from both the ceiling and the window irritating her eyes and causing pinpricks of pain to shoot through her already aching head. A little whine left her lips. 

The figure, who must have been sitting beside her based on the way they were clutching her hand, went stiff, shooting forward with their fingers tightening around hers. 

“Lucy?”

Tommy. Of course it was Tommy. She doubted that there was anyone else who would care enough to have sat at her bedside for who even knows how long, waiting to see if she ever woke up.  

Don’t leave me.

Never.

She half wanted to cry at the memory of him holding her on the betting shop floor, keeping pressure on her wound and murmuring reassuring promises that she was going to be okay; that he wouldn’t leave her alone. 

There had been endless agony in his eyes when the doctors and nurses practically had to wrench him away from her in the waiting room. By that point, she’d been fading in and out of consciousness consistently, verging more on passed out than actually awake, but she’d still seen the look of sheer helpless pain on his face when they started to wheel her away from him and into a surgical suite. 

Fighting down the exhaustion and agony trying to coax her back to sleep, she forced her eyes open again. 

She was greeted with Tommy’s face hovering over hers. His eyes–bloodshot and wide–bore her. There were very dark, swollen circles under them, and his hair was ruffled and sticking up in a few places, as if he’d been running his fingers through it repeatedly. A light shadow of stubble was beginning to sprout up along his jaw. His clothes were rumpled and wrinkled in several places.  

When she tried to angle herself towards him a little, it was to find that she was impeded by a brace keeping her from turning her head.  

So instead she settled for raising her hand to cup his cheek, brows creasing as she took in just how haggard and exhausted he looked. How long had she been out? How long had he just been sitting here, waiting with little more than a sliver of hope that she would find her way back to him?

His lips parted with a choked off sound as he took in her staring back at him, and at the press of her hand against his cheek, she saw his throat convulse as he swallowed, actually looking to be close to tears.

“Tommy, are you alright?” her voice was but a weak whisper. Definitely hadn’t been used for at least a couple of days, then. 

Tommy let out a quiet sound that was half laugh, half sob, at her question. His face turned against her palm to kiss her hands, big fingers curling around hers as he kissed her fingers, the back of her hands, and her palms over and over again.   

“I’m supposed to be the one asking you that, love,” he murmured, giving her hands a few more pecks.

“Mm,” she just hummed, eyes closing for a moment, not opening again until she felt him brushing a few tendrils of hair off her forehead.

“Lucy?”

“‘M still here,” she mumbled, opening her eyes again to find him looking her over concernedly. 

“How are you feeling? Are you in pain?”

“Hm…” she considered. “Head hurts a little, but I’m guessing that’s to be expected. Mostly just tired. And achy.”

“I can get the doctor–”

“No,” she squeezed his hand. “Not yet. Just stay a minute.”

He didn’t argue with her, settling back down where he’d half risen from his seat. He was staring at her like he was afraid she might disappear.

“How long was I out for?”

“Only a few days,” his finger trailed up and down her arm, not entirely making eye contact with her as he uttered the next bit. “We weren’t entirely sure if you would ever wake up.”

It hurt to let out the little snort she emitted from her nose, but it was worth it to see him relax a little at the sound of her amusement. “It’s gonna have to take worse than a bullet to the head to get rid of me.”

Tommy shot her a small, fond smile, reaching out to brush the back of his hand down her cheek. “I’m so glad you’re awake. I missed you.”

“You said I was only asleep for a couple days.”

He just shook his head. “Too long.”

She smiled to herself, and tugged the hand still holding hers to her lips, so she could press a kiss to it. “Thank you for staying with me.”

“I made you a promise,” he shrugged, like it wasn’t a big deal. “And, besides, I wouldn’t have been able to focus on much of anything else if I knew you were laying here all alone.”

Sweetheart, she thought to him affectionately, smile growing as he dropped his head a little bashfully. 

But the thought of work made it quickly fade, replaced instead by silent dread. She felt…fine, all things considered. Outside of just some general cloudiness and sluggishness in her thoughts, she wasn’t having any trouble thinking, or remembering things, now that she was more awake. And she could talk. She seemed able to move alright, general weakness aside, and the experimental little wiggle she did of her toes proved to be a success. 

But just because she didn’t currently feel any specific adverse effects from her injury, didn’t mean that there wouldn’t be any. She’d been shot in the fucking head. She’d touched her own brain with her fingertips. People didn’t just walk away from that, did they?

She closed her eyes again, bracing herself. “Tell me how bad it is. Really.”

“Not so bad. Recovery will probably be long. But they don’t expect you to have any long term complications. The bullet impacted your skull, but only the outermost layer of your brain. They didn’t see any significant damage to it,” he cleared his throat. “The doctor can give you more specific details on all of this.”

“Mm,” she hummed, absorbing the information. She was lucky, then. Incredibly so.

But a long recovery meant she would be out of commission for a while. And if she wasn’t able to do her job for a significant while…

She bit her lip, and tried to push the thought away, Tommy’s hand cupping her cheek distracting her a little.

“You’re really feeling alright?” he asked, big blue eyes wide with concern. 

“Mhm, I’m sure. Just tired,” she shifted slightly in the bed. “The brace is a little uncomfortable.”

“I don’t think you’ll have to wear it for very long.”

“Oh, good.”

Tommy stroked her hair back, leaning forward from his seat to press a gentle, slow kiss to her lips. Lucy’s eyes fluttered closed at the sensation, his mouth warm and soft as a pillow against hers. He retreated enough to also kiss her forehead before settling back into his chair. 

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too. I’m sorry that I made you worry.”

“Don’t–don’t apologize. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

She gave his hand a little squeeze. He kissed her again, then stood.

“I’ll go tell the doctor you’re awake, now.”

“Okay,” she watched him go to the door, teeth worrying a little at her lower lip as she resigned herself to what was likely to be a long and painful recovery. 

Meanwhile a thought, one she knew to be irrational and silly, scratched insistently on the insides of her mind.  

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[scotianostra]

On January 30th 1649 King Charles I was executed.

On January 30th 1649 King Charles I was executed.

His execution caused a change of sides by most of the Scots who had previously supported the Parliamentarians in the English Civil War as, for all his faults, Charles was still a Scottish Stuart king.

I love these accounts of what happened on occasions like this, it brings history alive for me and I can imagine being in the crowd at the time, I have a similar type post lined up for February 8th but this is an from tells us of a bitterly cold January day. Charles was wearing two heavy shirts so that he might not shiver in the cold and appear to be afraid. The following details of the event comes from an anonymous observer and begins as the doomed King addresses the crowd from the scaffold.

“[As for the people,] truly I desire their liberty and freedom as much as anybody whomsoever; but I must tell you that their liberty and freedom consist in having of government, those laws by which their life and their goods may be most their own. It is not for having share in government, sirs; that is nothing pertaining to them; a subject and a sovereign are clear different things. And therefore until they do that, I mean that you do put the people in that liberty, as I say, certainly they will never enjoy themselves. Sirs, it was for this that now I am come here. If I would have given way to an arbitrary way, for to have all laws changed according to the power of the sword, I needed not to have come here; and therefore I tell you (and I pray God it be not laid to your charge) that I am the martyr of the people…

And to the executioner he said, ‘I shall say but very short prayers, and when I thrust out my hands - ’

Then he called to the bishop for his cap, and having put it on, asked the executioner, 'Does my hair trouble you?’ who desired him to put it all under his cap; which, as he was doing by the help of the bishop and the executioner, he turned to the bishop, and said, 'I have a good cause, and a gracious God on my side.’

The bishop said, 'There is but one stage more, which, though turbulent and troublesome, yet is a very short one. You may consider it will soon carry you a very great way; it will carry you from earth to heaven; and there you shall find to your great joy the prize you hasten to, a crown of glory.’

The king adjoins, 'I go from a corruptible to an incorruptible crown; where no disturbance can be, no disturbance in the world.’

The bishop: 'You are exchanged from a temporal to an eternal crown, - a good exchange.’

Then the king asked the executioner, 'Is my hair well?’ And taking off his cloak and George [the jeweled pendant of the Order of the Garter, bearing the figure of St. George], he delivered his George to the bishop…

Then putting off his doublet and being in his waistcoat, he put on his cloak again, and looking upon the block, said to the executioner, 'You must set it fast.’

The executioner: 'It is fast, sir.’

King: 'It might have been a little higher.’

Executioner: 'It can be no higher, sir.’

King: 'When I put out my hands this way, then - ’

Then having said a few words to himself, as he stood, with hands and eyes lift up, immediately stooping down he laid his neck upon the block; and the executioner, again putting his hair under his cap, his Majesty, thinking he had been going to strike, bade him, 'Stay for the sign.’

Executioner: 'Yes, I will, and it please your Majesty.’

After a very short pause, his Majesty stretching forth his hands, the, executioner at one blow severed his head from his body; which, being held up and showed to the people, was with his body put into a coffin covered with black velvet and carried into his lodging.

His blood was taken up by divers persons for different ends: by some as trophies of their villainy; by others as relics of a martyr; and in some hath had the same effect, by the blessing of God, which was often found in his sacred touch when living.”

A bust of Charles is on the wall outside the Banqueting Hall at Whitehall, London near the spot of his execution, and today as usual supporters of the Stuart King will lay flowers

There are no shortages of depictions of the execution, I have chosen a few.