#and my gentleman boy with gloves and hat | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pollunam · 5 months ago

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Flaws. Part 1.

Warnings: 18 + blood, and canon typical violence.

"So, Gus, I want to introduce you to a lady who will be joining you," Gabbin nodded, gesturing to open the door. I stood confidently behind her, fiddling with my gloves. I wouldn't say I was easily frightened. Try being scared when your father made you throw knives at apples atop your brother's head from childhood.

The door creaked open, revealing a smoke-filled room. Smoke swirled elegantly in the air, forming intricate patterns against dark wallpaper and faces full of hope, albeit not the most enthusiastic ones.

"Well, this is Gus March-Phillips. Maybe not the finest gentleman, but he knows his trade," Gabbin introduced.

"Welcome, milady," he smiled, adjusting his already curled mustache.

I nodded. "Lovely coat, I think I've seen it on someone else before."

Gabbin sighed heavily. "It's time for you to go, before he starts undressing me."

I smiled, pulling out a cigarette. Gus promptly offered a lighter.

"And I'm certain I've seen it somewhere too."

With that remark came two heavy sighs, and we triumphantly left the room. There was no time to think about formalities; we had a challenging task ahead, which I already knew about, but this man inspired confidence.

"Our team is quite unusual, I trust you understand that," Gus closed the car door with my suitcases already inside. The driver set off, illuminating the gravel road with yellow headlights.

"It doesn't bother me; I'm part of this 'unusual' company," I air-quoted.

"They'll like you."

"Now I'm nervous," I chuckled.

"I just can't figure out how they picked you for this assignment. You don't look like a reckless headhunter at all."

"Someone has to keep an eye on you boys."

The car stopped at the pier. The night air was fresh and breezy, blowing in from the ocean. Salty splashes danced joyfully at the shore, cresting with white foam on the sand. The sky glittered with a myriad of stars, perhaps the most romantic scene I'd ever witnessed. I stood mesmerized, watching the waves break beautifully against the pier.

"Enjoying the view?" Gus held my suitcases. "Too bad, it's time to go. I'm sure the ship's view won't disappoint."

I nodded quickly, following him.

"Finally, we've been waiting for you," someone shouted from the deck, and a head in a comical sailor hat appeared over the stern. "Good evening, milady," the stranger whistled, offering his hand. "Graham at your service."

I smiled. "Thank you for your help. This dress isn't the best attire for a ship." With one hand, I lifted the hem of my dress to climb aboard.

"Then take it off," a broad-shouldered man with round glasses appeared in the cabin doorway. His accent marked him as a foreigner. Tall and sturdy, he resembled a Viking woven from northern winds.

"Isn't that a bit forward of you?" I retorted.

"I didn't mean what you thought, mind you," he chuckled warmly.

"Then say it so you're understood."

"Affirmative, my dear."

I flared up. The big guy was clearly teasing me.

"Anders, where are your manners?" Gus shook his head. "We're not a band of brigands; we're gentlemen who never underestimate ladies. Especially ones like her."

"Are you planning to travel with us?" Anders agilely descended from the cabin. "This isn't an Atlantic cruise."

Graham whistled again. "Pay him no mind. He's big, but not the brightest."

"No problem. I just don't understand how such a massive bear isn't sinking the ship with his presence."

Anders squinted. "I find that amusing."

"I'll try to entertain you more often," I smirked.

"Good evening! I'm Freddy," a man appeared from behind, sporting a blue scarf around his neck. He smiled warmly and openly.

"I'll show you to your cabin. Space is tight, but we'll find something suitable," Gus gestured for me to go ahead, descending a small staircase inside.

The large room served as a dining area, kitchen, and bedroom with two bunk beds. It smelled of apples and wine. The beds were neatly made, and an open bottle of alcohol sat on the table, emitting a pungent scent.

"The safest bet would be one of these beds."

"Seems like there aren't enough."

"Don't worry, we've got sleeping bags."

"I can take it, no problem. I've slept in worse conditions."

"No, no. We'll do it differently," Gus grinned, "forget about the sleeping bag, it's pure mockery."

"Listen, Gus, I appreciate that, really, but it's not necessary at all."

"It's absolutely necessary, trust me. Conversation's over, just like the tour. Make yourself comfortable," he said, heading upstairs heavily, while I sat at the table, resting my head on my hands. Thoughts leapt and tangled in my mind. Well, this adventure was right up my alley: gunfire, smell of danger, and the scent of pure escapade.

I pulled out trousers and a white shirt from my suitcase and quickly changed, listening to voices from above.

"Someone needs to sleep in the sleeping bag tonight. We'll take turns after."

"I can do it, no problem," a hearty man offered. I chuckled approvingly, tying my hair up in a bun.

By the time I finished brewing tea for everyone, the ship had already set sail. Carefully, I climbed up, carrying four mugs.

"Thanks a lot!" Graham smiled, noticing me; he immediately took one cup, "need a hand?"

"No, it's alright, I'll manage."

Fredrick appeared right away, "now that's service."

"Just a friendly gesture."

Gus stood at the helm.

"Hey! Up there! Tea?"

"Leave it there, I'll get it later!" he shouted back.

I carefully placed the mug on the stair step and looked around for the Viking. How could one miss such a broad man - it was a mystery. A silhouette appeared at the stern. Anders was coiling rope, sitting on the edge of the hull; he seemed completely absorbed in his thoughts, focused on his task.

"Hi again," I leaned against the rail, offering him a steaming cup, "care for some?"

"Is it poisoned?"

"No, if I wanted to kill you, I wouldn't do it so blatantly."

"Now I'll have to be on guard," Anders smiled, taking the tea, "thanks."

I looked at the receding shore, flickering in the darkness like a fallen star.

"Why are you here? I mean, your job... it's quite... dangerous."

"It's a long story of family drama, but I'm glad to be where I am, despite the danger."

"I understand, yes," the Viking nodded, "I have a similar story."

"Where are you from?"

"Denmark."

"Ah, a true Viking," I smiled, "how could I possibly be scared then?"

"Still, don't anger me, alright," Anders also smiled, adjusting his glasses, "I like how you called me that, but please don't spread the idea."

"Deal."

We sat in silence, listening to the sound of water pushing against the hull and the wind whistling through the sails. The coolness enveloped me, but it seemed I had completely forgotten about it, imagining London engulfed in fire and war, left behind. Ahead, the horizon blended seamlessly with the ocean in a vast blue landscape.

"Aren't you cold?" Anders broke the fragile silence.

"A bit, but it's so beautiful here, I can't stop admiring."

"Better go below, it's easy to catch a cold in the ocean."

I nodded, "I'll go down soon."

Alone again, I leaned against the stern, staring at the ocean's surface. Dark as lead. I didn't feel like sleeping.

"Here," I didn't even notice Anders returning, handing me a blanket, "for the tea."

"Thanks, what will you do for two teas?"

"Save the pleasure for later. Although, you did take off your dress."

"Hey, Viking!"

He laughed, "I'm just kidding."

"Go already, or you'll catch a cold," I teased him back, wrapping the blanket around my shoulders.

"Just a tip, if you're sailing for the first time, it's easy to get seasick if you stare at the water. You won't notice when you fall in."

"My intuition tells me to listen to you, but common sense suggests testing that theory."

"Now I see why you're here," he sat on coiled ropes, "go ahead, test it."

"You're a troublemaker."

"How so?" Anders raised his eyebrows in confusion, "I've been sitting quietly, brought you a blanket, and said nothing about your clothes."

"Alright," I turned away.

In reality, I felt dizzy. I couldn't afford to collapse now, or else there would be enough jokes to fill three huge books titled "I'm the funniest person on Earth and I'm called the Giant Viking."

" You know, you really annoy me. I'd better go."

Anders slyly raised his eyes at me, "just like that? Just because of me, darling? You give up quickly."

"I've had enough of your teasing for today."

"Well then, good night."

He didn't move from his spot, not even a twitch, much like me. My legs felt weak.

"Are you alright?" Graham shouted, having taken over from Gus at his post, he raised an eyebrow, "you don't look too good."

"You all here are masters at giving compliments."

"I meant you look kinda green."

"Ah, no, that's my natural skin tone," I waved dismissively, feeling nausea creeping up.

"Alright, then can I take Anders from you? I need some help."

"No problem."

Anders stared at me intently, gripping the ship's railing.

"Five minutes, buddy," he signaled to Graham with five fingers, climbing up. "You know, my intuition tells me to just toss you overboard, but common sense," he scooped me up, throwing me over his shoulder, "suggests helping you again."

"Let me go, I'm about to be sick," I covered my mouth with my hand.

"Not on my favorite sweater. Hang in there."

"Oh God!" Everything blurred before my eyes. "I'm not kidding."

Anders sat me down on the step leading to the helm. "Don't go anywhere," he smirked.

I dropped my head back, closing my eyes. Silly rocking. Silly mission and silly Viking.

"Pour."

"What are you pouring?" I couldn't open my eyes, and that turned out to be a blessing because right after that command, water splashed over me. It eased the discomfort.

"I don't know what's wrong with your character, darling, but this is the second time in a couple of hours that I've had to come to your aid. And now I'll have to sleep in a sleeping bag instead of a warm bed."

"Well, it'll pass quickly," Graham's voice assured me, "I've been through the same."

"I warned you."

"It's okay, she'll recover," Freddie chimed in.

And I still couldn't open my eyes. I had no idea the ocean was a worse enemy than the Germans.

"Can you get up?"

"Yeah, just a minute," I sighed, gathering my strength, and slowly stood up, leaning on the railing. "I feel better, thank you, really."

"You'll feel like a fish in water tomorrow," Graham promised, "good night."

I nodded, unable to carry on the conversation.

"Let's go," Freddie offered his hand.

Anders critically observed what was happening, folding his arms across his chest.

1:0 in his favor, it seems. However, there's still plenty ahead.

#Anders Lassen × Reader #anders lassen #female reader #the ministry of ungentlemanly warfare #request #fanfic

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bookishdream · 2 years ago

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wooden swords

Hi, long time no see :<<. But here I come, after a break, hopefully with some new ideas and a fresh head for sure!

Synopsis: just Kaz being a little annoying bitch, enjoy! CW: none <3

“You’re making it too easy for me, y/n” the infamous bastard of the barrel remarked, when yet again your wooden sword met his. You were out of breath, your lungs felt like they were on fire and every little movement tighten your muscles to an unbearable degree. “Live up to my expectations, love”

“I don’t think your ego fits in this hideous hat of yours anymore, Brekker” you took a step back, preparing yourself for the next hit. Your feet firmly planted on the ground, back straightened and every single muscle tensed. You lift the weapon again, concentrating and trying to foresee his next move.

You had been training with Kaz, Dirtyhands Brekker for quite some time. Your first encounter was a rough one, to say at least. You had been brought up in Novyziem and after your parents had thrown you out, with only the clothes on your back, you’d thought that Ketterdam would be a marvelous idea to start all over again. Little did you know that it was a place the devil himself was scared to visit. Or on the contrary, lived in, you still weren’t sure whether Kaz was The Devil.

When the ship you’d been on finally finished his journey, you’d been more than frightened. Immediately, you’d felt shivers, your anxiety had risen and you’d been off to look for a shelter. After the most tiring wandering, you had noticed a nice clothed gentleman, his attire black, as had been his awful hat. The only sound that could’ve been heard was a systematical clicking of his cane, which also looked quite expensive. Your eyes sharpened, the gears in your mind working quickly, thinking about the most efficient way to obtain some cash, the gentleman looked as an easy target.

You’d followed him for what felt like every single damn street and nook of Ketterdam, when eventually you’d got close enough to slip your palm into his pocket and–

“What are you doing, exactly?” the rough material of his glove had connected with your thin wrist, with only one move he could’ve snapped it in half, leaving you with only one good hand. He didn’t look old, nor did he look young. His expression dark and steady, making you shiver. “Do you think of me that low to assume I wasn’t aware of you following me?”

“Honestly, I found you as stupid as any other merchant in this city” you’d tried to keep a calm face and a steady voice, but your breath had been coming out sharply, betraying your calm demeanour. “Your hat is what makes you look foolish”

His eyes had glowed dangerously at your remark, and you wished you hadn’t spoken a word. Then he smirked. “You have potential, let’s go.” started walking, leaving you alone in the middle of a dark alley. A dark shape had run in front of your feet, making you squeak, and you quickly had caught up with the mysterious boy. But it was a long time ago, almost a year had passed since Kaz Brekker had let you stay with the Dregs.

“Y/n, please, we all know that my hats make you swoon” he smirked, paring his sword with yours. Again. You cursed, pushing harder, which came out as fruitless, since Kaz hit your weapon, making you hiss out of pain and let it fall. “I thought I told you not to play with sharp objects”

“It’s not sharp, you–“ your words cut short, as you felt the tip of his sword on your throat. You swallowed and looked him in the eyes.

“Do not use this language, young lady.”

“We’re the same age.”

“I’m two months older.” his smirk was still on his face, making you really tempted to wipe it off, the sword still unmoving. “Hence, my word is the last word”

He let the sword fall on the ground with a small thud, putting his fallen hat back on his head. Kaz turned around, taking a few steps ahead. You, on the other hand, lifted the sword from the dirty street and aimed it at his back, jabbing him in his very expensive and pricey coat. “Never turn your back, unless your opponent is dead. That was the first thing you taught me.” It was your turn to smile, just a little.

Kaz showed you his profile, his cheekbones were highlighted by the warm glow of the street lamps. A little smile was playing in the corners of his lips. “Good job, y/n. Now let’s go and drink, it’s freezing”

#kaz brekker imagine #kaz soc #soc kaz #kaz brekker x reader #kaz my beloved #six of crows #crooked kingdom #shadow and bone

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hard-deckpilots · 11 months ago

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Cowboy.

Pairing: Rhett Abbot × Rider! Reader.

Summary: Whilst competing at an international horse show event, Rhett has his eye on a certain rider.

Warnings: Rhett being a gentleman. Kissing. Mentions of falling off horse. I'm not a professional in horse stuff.

Wordcount: 1.73k

Tags: @sebsxphia @briseisgone

Images not mine.

These days where you spent so much time eventing was your favourite. 5 days straight of competing against other riders. You main areas were horsemanship and show jumping.

Not only did you compete but you watched other people compete. Mostly the cowboys. The rodeo and barrel racing was always an interest of yours.

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

Day 1:

You had finally gotten Tidus your show horse, settled in his stable at the eventing ground. Preparing your saddle to go warm up in the arena, you placed it on the side of the wall. Tidus nudged your shoulder as you continued to prepare.

"I know boy, we'll get into the arena soon." You spoke softly to the chestnut coloured horse, stroking his maine softly.

Placing the saddle onto Tidus, you put in your riding gear and climbed up onto your horse. Riding out of the stables you rode past others and into the warm up arena. Gently leading through the paddock, you make sure to be aware of who is around you. To the left of you and Tidus, was a gentleman in a red flannel shirt, jeans, leather gloves hanging out his back pocket and a black Stetson.

Tidus being the boy he is, gently nudges the man's shoulder.

"Tidus stop it. I am so sorry." You apologise as you pull the reins away from the gentleman,

"It's no problems. I'm use to it anyways. May I?" The gentleman asking to pet Tidus.

"Of course." You smiled. Watching as the man pats Tidus on the neck. "What eventing you doing?" You asked the mystery cowboy.

"Rodeo and Barrel racing. I bet you do the fancy stuff don't ya with all that get up." The cowboy looked up at you with striking blue eyes. Eyes that literally took your breath away.

"Horsemenship and show jumping... Going there now actually." You smiled. He smiled back at you.

"Rhett." He held his hand up so you could reach it.

"Y/n." You shook his hand. "Rhett... I guess I'll see you later otherwise I'll be late."

"Of course." Rhett smiled. "Good luck out there and I'll see you around." Rhett smiled up at you.

You both said goodbye and you rode to the arena where you started your warm up. Entering the main arena you started your show jumping routine. Managing to complete the set jumps. When finishing Tidus walked around the arena and you saw a distinct black Stetson in the audience. He had a small smile on his lips, which made you blush lightly.

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

Day 2:

You were in the stable cleaning Tidus, listening to music on a low volume not paying attention to anything but Tidus.

"Well done on the jumping yesterday." A southern voice sounded out making you jump.

"Oh!" You turned around. "Thanks Rhett... We don't have anything today until later this afternoon. You enjoyed the show yeah?" You replied leaning against the stable door.

"It was quite a spectacle I have to say. I'm amazed Tidus can't jump that high. Here... For you." Rhett handed you a flower which appeared to be a dahlia.

"Oh... Thank you so much Rhett." You blushes taking the flower from him and smelling it.

"Where's your stable by the way?" You asked Rhett continuing to smell the flower,

"Just down there, see where that older gentleman is farriering. That's my stable." Rhett smiled "Is it okay if I see you later? I've got barrel racing in half and hour."

You smiled and nodded. Then decided to be brave. Leaning over the stable door on your tip toes you kissed his cheek softly. And this time it was for him to blush.

"Good luck Rhett."

He smiled and tipped his hat then walked off. Roughly half an hour later you hear hooves trotting down the paddock path. You look up and see Rhett on a beautiful grey horse, his Stetson still on with a blue flannel and a padded jacket. His leather gloved hands holding the reins.

You smiled and walked down to the arena to watch him. The barrel racing was incredibly amazing to you, the speed Rhett sent his horse round the barrels. As he finished he saw you standing off to the side and rode over to you, placing his Stetson on top of your head.

Afterwards you kept his Stetson on, and went to find him.

"Hey cowboy." You smiled. He looked up and smiled at you.

"You know... I think I'm falling for you Y/n." Rhett spoke as he looked at you, his eyes portraying more emotion than his face.

"I think I am as well." You smiled. Rhett took of the Stetson on your head, and pulled you gently by your waist and kissing you gently.

You kissed back and you both stayed behind the stables kissing.

"wow... You're a good kisser." Rhett spoke with a schoolboy smile,

"So are you... Not just a cowboy are you?" You smiled back giving him another kiss.

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

Day 3:

You walked down to Rhett's stable in the morning before you got ready, and saw him working on his horse.

"Morning cowboy." You spoke softly,

"Good morning fancy." He smiled back at you as he worked on his horse dart.

"I made something for you by the way. It's probably stupid..." You held out a bracelet made out of twine which you braided. Rhett looked at it and smiled and let you put it on his wrist.

"Thank you fancy." Rhett spoke kissing your cheek. "Good luck for your show jumping today." He continued making sure you knew he'd be there.

He watched as you prepared and walked you and Tidus to the arena, then took a seat near the gate. Watching as you done jumps, Rhett watched you and Tidus jump and then the next thing he knew you was on the floor.

Rhett didn't think as he jumped the fence and ran over to you.

"Y/n! Are you okay?" Rhett asked as he came over to you,

"Grab Tidus... Make sure he's okay please." You responded sounded winded. Rhett nodded and gently grabbed the reins of Tidus and calmed the horse down.

After a few minutes you managed to get back up and take the reins from Rhett. His hand laid on the small of your back, leading you out of the arena and to the medics. The medics checked you out, and said you had a sprained wrist. They wrapped it up and sent you on your way.

Rhett walked you and Tidus back to your stable. Doing all the work for you.

"You okay fancy?" Rhett asked softly,

"Sore but I'll be okay... What's horse riding without falling off aye?" You smiled softly at his concern.

Rhett kisses the top of your head. And he let you lead him to the room you stayed in, and layed together for the night. Eventually you fell asleep on him.

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

Day 4:

You and Rhett had spent the night together. This to you both felt right.

"Rhett... Where do you live?" You asked softly whilst still laying against him,

"Dayton in Wyoming." Rhett replied. "What about you?"

"We live closer to each other than I thought. I'm in Wyola in Montana." You smiled up at him. "Only 30 minutes from each other."

Rhett smiled down at you and kissed the top of your head. Neither of you had competitions today, which you were glad about as the tumble you took yesterday shook you.

"Do you wanna go look at the shops?" You asked,

"Sure." Rhett replied. Both you and Rhett got changed and walked around the shops set up. You walk past a stand selling leather riding boots.

"Oh... These are nice." You looked over them and checked the length of them against your leg.

"You wear these?" Rhett raised an eyebrow. "I could buy like 5 hay bails for this price." He spoke as he checked the price.

"Unlike you cowboy. When doing horsemanship competitions both I and Tidus have to be in the smartest condition when showing the judges." You smiled teasing Rhett a bit.

"Understandable miss/ Mr fancy." He smiled back as he couldn't believe the price of the riding boots. He looked at another shop with you, which were leather gloves.

"Those are nice." You spoke,

"I got a pair." Rhett smiled showing you his gloves which have been worn through. You rolled your eyes and kept them in mind.

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

Day 5:

It was the final. The final day you'd get to see Rhett. You had your horsemanship competitions during the day, before having to pack away. Your wrist was in a brace but you braved through it.

Rhett watched you as though you had enchanted him. The horsemanship was something different he hadn't really watched before. All the competitors finished and the judges were calling out the top 3. Rhett sat there with his fingers crossed, hoping you at least made it to the top 3. And when your name was read out last, he cheered so loudly and was smiling at you brightly.

Your face was tearful in a good way when you rode out of the arena, and he helped you off Tidus.

"You won! You won the championship Y/n." He cheered, twirling you in his arms.

"I done it!" You smiled burying your head into the crook of Rhett's neck. The two of you celebrated for a while and then it came time to say goodbye.

"I made something so we could match." Rhett spoke placing a twine bracelet on your good wrist. You smiled up at him.

"Well I got something for you as well.... Here." You held out brand new leather riding gloves, the ones Rhett had noticed the day before.

"Y/n... You didn't have to...." Rhett looked at you with admiration. Rhett held the gloves and then noticed a note inside. He opened it and noticed it was your name and number and address.

"Text me?" You asked softly.

"I'll call you every day... Is that okay?" Rhett responded. You nodded and kisses him on the lips softly.

He smiled and kissed back.

"Make sure you look after that wrist okay?"

Nods

"I will. I'll come visit you at the ranch one day. It's only a thirty minute drive, so we don't have too far do we."

Rhett kisses your forehead again and gave you one of his hoodies to keep with you. You hugged before you went your separate ways. And on the way home all your mind could think about was him.

The Cowboy.

#writing #outer range #rhett abbott #cowboy

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gok1bvri72 · 1 year ago

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💛💫Voca/Utauloid Headcanons of Mine💫💛

Not proofread, too lazy😍😍

💫 Hatsune Miku 💫

I think Miku is a bit of a spoiled diva, but only a bit!

She is pretty generous despite the whole "World is Mine" thing, I like to think she uses her brand to get charities off the ground🤔

Miku gives me Pansexual and proud vibes

Her hair is a chore to take care of and takes hours to prepare for a concert! Loads of teal hair in the trash and clogging the shower drain.

She has an arsenal of scrunchies at the ready for her pigtails>:)

Miku doesn't like the coral colour. Yknow that reddish orange colour? She doesn't like wearing it.

Miku doesn't actually know how to do make-up, Luka always does it for her!

💫 Kagamine Rin 💫

Rin has ADHD me thinks🤔

She has a load of fidget spinners cuz she thinks they are cool✊

She has roller skates and she rides around town in the 24/7!

Her bow collection rivals Jojo Siwa's and is definitely more fashionable😩

Her notebook is filled with all sorts of goofy song ideas written in bright orange highlighter.

She has to cut her hair or it starts to grow out- like almost as long as Miku's! It grows fast so regular hair trims><

She love love LOVES little charms and accessories! Sanrio and Animal Crossing are some of her favourite things to collection stuff from!

💫 Kagamine Len 💫

I have the most to say about him cuz he is my favourite so strap in>:)

Len has a skateboard that has all sorts of stickers on it ranging from MLP G2 stickers from his sister to spiderman and undertale references!

Len forgets stuff easily, he isn't stupid just stuff slips his mind easily. So he carries a small pocket book to write stuff in if it's important!

He plays piano and guitar obvi but I totally see I'm sitting down after football season on the field after school and playing some melodies on an acoustic guitar with his homies.

Also has to trim his hair regularly JSKSJSKSJSK (Rapunzel Len😳😳???)

He snatches scrunchies from Miku's collections sometimes to put in his hair sometimes cuz he likes them.

100% a brony I refuse to believe otherwise♡♡♡

Can be a gentleman when he wants SoE wasn't 100% a lie💫

Fingerless gloves, T-shirts over white hoodies, naturally torn jeans, and bright sneakers or combats slay💅

Raging bisexual king

Had a crush on Fukase once. Immediately didn't anymore.

Possibly trans masc? Idk I feel like he isn't but he has that t-boy swag👁👁

Fangirls lowkey scare him, like yes he knows he has them and yes he is terrified of them. (Mention that Tei girl and he is outta there.)

Probably has a crush on random Utauloid girls cuz they aren't popular and he has a higher chance of wooing them💀

Does his make-up himself cuz Luka never adds enough eyeliner for his highness.

💫 Megurine Luka 💫

Mom friend

A bit of an air head and she always spends hours picking out her outfits because they needs to be perfect('□`)

She Miku dated at one point🤔

Make-up wizard~!!!

She does everybody's make-up except for Len's.

Really soft hands, like ethereal. If you hold them you will instantly feel self-conscious about yours if you're like me.

She sheds. Everywhere. It's like pink little worms everywhere. She sheds more than Miku. If the drain isn't clogged by a teal monster it's a pink one.

Paints everyone nails, yes even his highness Len. Luka just has really light handy-work! Super delicate and great for little details><

Luka likes to draw and paint pretty scenery!

She has an affinity for sun hats💛💛

Cottage core lesbian vibes

💫 Shion Kaito 💫

Kaito has an ice cream truck. He drives it around town while it plays a heavy metal version of the ice cream truck theme. Scares all the kids.

He and Len play smash bros as Joker and Pit 24/7 and have the most intense screaming battles!

He has a pusheen plush collection><

He has his room at like, 10 degrees colder than the rest of the mansion cuz mf likes his blankets and he is a.... Snowman.

HHEHEHEHEHEHEHHE

Anyways he has a whole closet of just scarves and it's like walking through a car wash minus all the water and soap almost.

We all know he wears his scarves to the pool but did you know he also wears them in the shower?!?!?!😱😱😱😱

Kinda feels like an omni with a male lean.

💫 Sakine Meiko 💫

She has every single alcoholic drink at the local bar memorized....

She really likes heels! She has a whole bunch. Kinda like the Barbie of Vocaloid when it comes to them U_U💅

She and Luka are besties and they have that lesbian "besties" vibe going on JSKJSSKSJJSSJ

Mmmmm yiAS- And they were *best friends.*

Anyways Meiko is totally called Koko and Meimei around the house.

When she isn't chugging alcohol she is chugging some kind of apple cider.

I feel like if her mascot item wasn't sake it would be apples or lipstick🤔

She has a whole 3 drawers of just lipsticks btw

💫 Kasane Teto 💫

As we all know she is now a Synth. But in my heart I still call her an Utau even tho it's technically wrong- but it's also not harming anyone so who cares?

She and Miku went on a date once. Best day of her life😍/hj

She is a bread connoisseur and her current dream is to some day visit France😔✊

Her hair is such a pain to style in the morning- when she isn't going out she doesn't even bother and leaves it loose.

I headcanon she and Fukase are siblings and also Fukkatsu Kozuko's older siblings. They all have those red eyes... they must be related! (Kozuko just got the recessive hair genes obviously LSJSKJSAKJSKAS)

Totally has gamer rage and plays competitive games like League of Legends and the online Pokemon battles.

Totally a huge Pokemon nerd btw and her favourite game is Pokemon Y cuz it's based on France!

She beat Rin over the head with a baguette once....

Pansexual or Bisexual vibes... tbh whatever it is she isn't straight that's for sure I mean that girl definitely has a crush on Miku.

Speaking of which, she is a frequent donater to Miku's collection getting her more scrunchies every chance she gets 😔

💫 Oliver 💫

MY BOYYYYYY

Oliver is great💛💛💛

When asked if he is a dog person or a cat person he confidently replies with "I'm a bird person>:D!!"

Luka was screaming about a spider in the snack cabinet once and he just grabbed it and ate it. I mean, it *was* in the snack cabinet. I wouldn't be surprised if he put it there....

He is kinda prone to getting sick easy.

He has asthma:(((

Len got him shoes and he never wears them.

Brush his hair for him, he will like it Q-Q *Holds Oliver gently*

💫 Fukase 💫

I don't like Fukase. But I also like him. Like I like that I can dislike him yknow? He is a radical dude and I think he is great we would just totally argue all the time and call eachother rude names then bro hug and fist bump and if anyone asks no we aren't friends we are broskenimes.

House hold name? Fuck ass.

He takes pride in that name.

He, Len, and Piko play minecraft together and take turns blowing up each other's houses.

Totally takes his little sister to meet ups with Len just to piss him off/freak him out.

He eats his toe nails.

Raging gay ass mf here

💫 Utatane Piko 💫

This trans mf

T-Boy swag is strong with this one

Also probably a gay but I also see him being an omni with a male lean

Dating Fukase 100%

They blow each other's house up in minecraft as a display of affection♡♡♡

He and Len are broskis forever and have friendship bracelets that are MLP themed

His favourite pony is Rarity or DJ Pony and yes he is a brony.

He also really likes TBHK and Genshin Impact

Uses all his money to get his husbandos

Cat person tbh

💫 Kamui Gakupo 💫

EYYY MY OTHER FAVOURITE LOID!!!

Omni with that male lean I mean look at those gay samurai from Japanese history he is totally one of those.

"IT'S NOT GAY! IT'S TRADITION!!😤😤😤"

Totally in denial about his gayness.

Rhythm game king

He takes great pride in his hair and he doesn't actually shed that much like Miku and Luka!

Doesn't actually like eggplants he just got them stuck on him because of popipo and Dancing Samurai.

He prefers grapes😔

Wine enthusiast and actually more of an alcoholic than Meiko😳

Gave Len advice on how to get hot girls once and the advice wound up with the girl jumping into the pool fully dressed to avoid him.

100% not gay guys idk what you're talking about

💫 Megpoid Gumi 💫

I don't have many headcanons for her😭😭

She has a garden!

Did a Lumine from Genshin Impact cosplay once😳😳😳

Totally into Len at one point but Len was too dense to notice

Straight alliance(???)

Again not much here for her

Into Octonauts tho, Tweak is her favourite.

💫 VFlower 💫

FLOWERRRR!!!

She is totally Miku's crush 🥺🥺

Tbh, ace vibes

Another one of Len's broskis

She hates her new design

Slay queen tbh

I don't have much on her either but she is cool asf

I feel like she worked at a McDonald's once and idk why🤔

Currently works at a cafe

Huge P5 fan idk why

Also an artist! She is more into character design tho:)

Awesome fashion sense.

💫 Akita Neru 💫

Imma be honest with yall, I don't like her😰

I hate tsunderes so much they are so annoying and they make my skin boil.

Watching her be so mean to Len in the fics I read makes it really hard for me to like her cuz Len is my emotional support character so I don't have any headcanons for her.

But I don't wanna disappoint so I'll make a few on the spot!

She is a top streamer and has lots of male fans cuz she has that gremlin streamer that runs off of doritos and mountain dew vibes><

Has an Insta and uses Tumblr 24/7 in secret👀👀

She feels like a straight alliance to me

Anger issues

Maybe she is used to getting ignored and the only way she thinks she can get Len's attention is by bullying him?

Idk

💫 Fukkatsu Kozuko 💫

I made her so I obvi have a lot of headcanons but none of them are fact because I want her to be like all the other loids:)

One of them cursed Len simps

But she is tame about it and honestly a sweetheart soooo we gucci👌

She isn't stalking him like Tei and Mayu or beating him up like Neru. Just like, normal girl stuff.

Even then she doesn't get into cat fights over it cuz she doesn't have the confidence to.

Oh yeah! Low self-esteem cuz her VB is crappy and she has a lisp sometimes 😔😔

She feels like she might fall somewhere on the autism spectrum, but that might just be me self-protecting again🤔

Probably cries easily.

She really likes to decorate her room in cutesy pink stuff and she always wears these over the top soft girl outfits.

A huge fan of Miku! Really wants to be her friend but doesn't have the confidence to talk to her.

Rin, Len, Oliver, and Teto are her friends. (Teto doesn't have a choice cuz they are siblings/j)

Fukase insults her a lot but not in the mean way in the sibling way yknow yknow

Like "You're smelly"

Fukase let her play minecraft with him and his gang once and they all had cute cottages by the end of it. Fukase was >:[ing the whole time cuz he wanted her to be annoying to Len.

She is that friend who is too nervous to talk up so she just agrees and nods to everything and she is easily manipulated into things q-q

She is scared of Mayu, Tei, and Neru and they are mostly the reason she doesn't approach Len unless multiple people are around. She feels a lot safer when Fukase is there cuz Fukase is... Fukase is scary. No one wants to mess with Fukase. Mess with Fukase mess with some ancient eldritch horror or smth.

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basileus · 8 months ago

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SEATTLE KRAKEN PLAYER PRIMER

I promised the beautiful @madroxed a Seattle Kraken current player primer so she can get into a West Coast (best coast) NHL team and then I went mad so it ended up too long for ask box without a read more. So here it is for your enjoyment, babe. 🦑

IMPORTANT THINGS TO KNOW:

1. When Kraken started playing their first season in 2021, there was a lot of discussion about the expansion plan, how many years they would take to become as successful as other expansion teams (cough VGK). That plan… has not fully panned out. So even though they made it to the playoffs last year, they're not super successful this season and likely won't squeeze their way into a wild card spot. This is okay because the Kraken are full of love.

2. This is important enough to say twice: THE KRAKEN PLAYERS ARE FULL OF LOVE. They don't need to be good if they're having fun and being friends! And they are!

3. Kraken has no captain right now, just four As. Democracy, baby! Every game there is tons of talk on reddit about how it's a good thing because it's made the guys closer, or how it's a bad thing because they don't have a leader and they keep losing. IDK, it's just our thing. There will be a C eventually.

4. There's a joke on tiktok that Kraken is a team of beautiful shy horses, treated badly on their last teams and now learning to love again. Keep this in mind when you see them interacting with Coach Hakstol. They all deserve to have their hooves (skates) farrier-ed gently, ribbons braided into their manes and to be tenderly fed sugar cubes. Anyways.

5. Haha, Seattle runs on love and tentacles.

THE OLDIES:

- Jordan Eberle (Jordy, Ebby, Ebs, Ebber) - Ebs was MY MAN for the longest time because I was soooo fond of him and the mid aughts pre-McDavid Oiler rookie crew. Now he's 33 years old, everyone calls him dad, and just had his 1000th game ceremony. It makes me verklempt.

He just signed a 2-yr contract this month, which people agree is mostly because of his role on the team and less because of his points (which are just okay).

He is also a noted Nickleback fan :(

Also, Jordan Eberle... naked... singing.

- Jared McCann (Canner, also Jordan's on-ice wife) - Kraken's lead scorer right now. Has the saddest backstory ever (he's had troubles with his teams since draft) but the Kraken team loves him. I love him too. Jordan was in his wedding party! Fun fact: Canner is the one who KISSED Ebs' head after an OT win this year, the organization framed & posted the picture, and it's the most romantic thing that has ever happened on Kraken ice. Recognized PC gamer boy. He also wears really really ugly hats with his game day suits.

- Philipp Grubauer (Grubi, The German Gentleman) - Gruuuuu. The more experienced goalie on the team. Noted horse girl (loves horses, there's a video all about his volunteer efforts with them). Gets a lot of undeserved shit from dude fans for being a conservative goalie, the man is NOT gonna move. He straight up close lined a player yesterday because they got too close to his crease lol.

- Vince Dunn - You already know this guy. Feral, but also submissive and breedable. I sent you the "screaming with a bloody face" vid but here's one where he drop gloves for a Matty hit and another from Juniors where he fights OFF ICE. His nickname is Dunner but because he's a pretty princess, he also goes by "Vincess" in hrpf. He's very popular this season both for his looks and his performance this season. Unfortunately injured right now due to a bad hit. Noted "gamer (fornite) boy" lol.

- Adam Larsson - You also know this guy. Big Cat. Quiet but a leader to the D rookies. Surprisingly funny - he's a silent prankster and the custom t-shirts this season with his face on it were a hit. Outside the hrpf space, he's engaged to a beautiful blonde Swede and about to be a dad this month.

- Jaden Schwartz (Schwartzy) - Peak millennial. Is it wrong that I think Schwartzy is the hottest Kraken after Vince? Because I don't care. He gives hot dad, with two dogs with girl names.

He changed his hockey number to match his sister's who died of cancer :'( Has been injured a lot this season and we miss him :'(

- Yanni Gourde (Gourdo) - FERAL!! FRENCH (CANADIAN)!!!! A tiktok star, sassy, charming, and also part of the team leadership.

Married and dad to little girls, who he has allowed Matty to babysit, if you can believe it. There was a super cute vid of them at the pumpkin patch this year. I'm a proud member of the GOURDO IS HOT club but even people with bad eyes and no love for goofy faces love Yanni.

- Andre Burakovsky (Burky) - You might remember him from his Cap or Av days. He's a beautiful little bird who is so good at scoring but so broken. The man has two Stanley Cups but he's played like 2 games for Kraken where he was both healthy & productive lol. People ship him with Gru sometimes in hrpf because they have cute nicknames for each other and also vacation together. He also just had a baby like two months ago so my sisters and I call him a teen mom even though he's like 29, lmaoo.

- Pierre-Edouard Bellemare (Belly) - His shirt is always off in every video I have ever seen him in. Handsome. Beard. French, like literally from France, but we won't hold it against him. He's an older guy who was brought in to help the team with offense (which we badly need).

- Oliver Bjorkstrand (Bjorky) - I always describe Bjorky as like a less handsome Dylan O'Brien if he played hockey. A chill, smiley dude who cares a lot. He played in Portland for the Winterhawks back in Juniors and I saw him a lot there! He's playing super well this year, he even was at the ASG!

THE YOUNG ONES:

- Matty Beniers (Matty, Benny) - OUR BEAUTIFUL FIRST DRAFT EVER. A baby boy. Ebs and Canner are his mom and dad. If you're on tiktok, he made that viral "Yes, Yes, Nope, Nope" sound while mic'd up.

He's growing up :') but also is having kind of a bad season :'( Part of the planned growth of the Kraken team though!

- Will Borgen (Borgy) - One of the baby D. He kinda looks like Canner but more frog. Matty and Borgy are roommates & pretty much BEST FRIENDS during the season. There's a lot of good locker room videos of them giving each other shit. He has also bullied Karts lol. Self describes himself as a little deer.

- Joey Daccord (Joey, Dacs) - Baby goalie. Gives the F1 recaps on tiktok. One of the biggest joys of my year so far was chanting "Joey" in the crowd after his shutout in the Winter Classic. Sometimes he strays too far from the net and makes boo boos. We love & cherish him.

- Kailer Yamamoto (Yamo, Yams, Yammer) - Little man. So little. Great at shootouts & stealing teammate's jerseys. He's the only Washingtonian on the team. Was a Oilers rookie and I've heard he featured in the whole Draisital hrpf narrative thing (idk I'm not an Oilers fan rn lol). Has a terrible goatee right now.

There's a funny af tweet about a reporter seeing a huge cheering section for him at a game and assumed it was friends & family but went over and it was just random people rooting for Yamo purely because he's short.

- Ryker Evans - The newest baby D. Has the deadest eyes you will ever see but he also spent an entire Firebirds youtube interview series just hanging out in a child's pool. He's played great since being called up from the Firebirds and we love him. So new he doesn't have a Breaking the Ice sheet yet :( Also his middle name is GARTH!

- Tye Kartye (Karts) - It's important that you know his last name is pronounced like "Cart-che" but even the announcers say "Car-ti-eh" like the jewelry brand. A quiet-ish sweetheart but also kind of spicy while playing. Rooms with Ryker. They're flirty and have been since the Firebirds. Scored his first NHL goal in his first NHL game, during the Kraken's first ever playoffs!

- Cale (& Haydn) Fleury - REAL LIFE BROTHERS. Not actually related to Flower. Haydn is on the Lightning now and we miss him. Cale mostly plays for the Firebirds but he's developing well and has gotten called up several times this season.

- Ryan Winterton (Wints) - A goofy little baby. He's still playing mostly with the Firebirds but he had his NHL debut this season.

- Shane Wright - I don't actually know his nickname. (EDIT: I have been informed it is Shaner or Wrighter!) Big boy. Our SECOND DRAFT EVER. Playing with the minor leagues right now. We'll see him playing a line on Kraken next season or so, probably (?). If Coach Dave is willing.

THE OTHERS (THAT I OFTEN FORGET ABOUT):

- Brandon Tanev - Turbo. He's fast. Has beautiful long hair. Keeps getting hit by pucks because he's in the way. Fun fact: he helped start the 'Kraken are horses' thing because there was a video on Tiktok where an equipment manager was adjusting his skates and they used a hoof care video sound and it went viral. We might lose him when he's a free agent and that's fine.

- Jamie Oleksiak - Big Rig, Riggy. In my shit list right now because he's playing bad and I hate his stupid credit card commercial that they always play during games. Member of the 'my sister is prettier and a better athlete than me' club. People speculate there's a chance we might lose him over the summer when his no-trade clause opens up as well. He's often Borgy's d-partner, and he and Borgy are very very sweet though.

- Tomas Tatar - Tuna, he's fun and nice. I like his accent. Sometimes I forget he exists.

- Eeli Tolvanen - Tolvy. I also sometimes forget about him. Sorry. He's a buddy to everyone on the team though.

- Justin Shultz - Shultzy, he's fine. Gets injured a lot. Not the best player. I think we're gonna lose him eventually too.

- Brian Dumoulin - Dumo, he's also fine. He's won a couple Stanley Cups. Cute baby face for an older player but he gives a kinda empty brain, 'there's not a thought behind those eyes' feeling lol.

HOPE THIS HELPS. I ALSO HOPE THEY DON'T CRUSH THIS PRIMER OVER THE OFF SEASON WITH TRADES LOL but who knows. Whatever happens, happens. Just remember this team runs on love (and tentacles).

#hockey

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crimbabyops · 11 months ago

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The Un-Natural Love Story

Chapter 1/? The Meet Up

Warnings: Long as fuck, murder but not in detail, smut later on, usage of curse words, fluff, No Y/N all OC based uhh that should be it but let me know if not.

A/N: I know this ain’t the Montai and Nixx fic I promised but I’m still working on that but please do enjoy this series I am writing and I do promise to post the other fic that’s a promise.

These chapters are long so be prepared.

The sounds of leaves crunching, birds singing, and….curses being said in the distance. Makes a great drama in the making. But this is a story about a pirate vampire and a ninja assassin falling in love.

I know I know this isn’t your normal fantasy love story but it is very enjoyable. Let’s get started all about the pirate vampire. Named Diablo Cattaneo, he’s uhhh let’s just say older than the universe.

Born a twin to Crimson Morningstar, he was the more calm but chaotic type of person. He was so attracted to wet stuff and not in that type of way…..I think. When he landed on earth to find his twin he landed in the ocean with no direction on where to go.

He swam and swam until he reached this sandy area that mortals call a beach. Dia explored until he found this bar filled with drunks galore, clothes ragged, and his twin near the bottles of strange liquid and barrels of unknown substance.

He sat and listened as his twin told him all about her adventures of different places, treasures and a chest filled with greed and sin. He was more focused on the creatures though, mostly these 8 legged creatures called spiders. He wanted to learn more so he did.

He adventures out to unknown and un-searched lands. Along the way he finds this band of drunks complaining about being moneyless and bloodless. He continues to listen from afar. Finds out that their vampire pirates that were thrown away by their captain for he was a prince that wanted control over adventure. But before that could happen he turned them to forever be damned to the darkness and castaways to the sea forever to stay away from the shore.

This gives Dia an idea, he starts his search with the help of his twin for a spell that can turn any damned soul into a living soul once again. He finds these pirates again still on the beach moping and complaining about their troubles. “Fuck that prince he was always an ass kisser anyways.” one states in a whiny tone “You mean he was a stuck up rich boy who desired control.” another states kicking the ocean with a gruffy tone. “Now now, don’t kick the ocean, she has nothing to do with it.” Dia walks out with a chuckle and two barrels filled with whiskey and rum and maybe even a little bit of blood.

The men stand up and draw their swords at him. “Who are you?!” one shouts with a shaky but scared tone at the 8 '10 8' 11 man standing in front of them with brown and black horns, neon blue long but slightly curly hair, heterochromia eyes one brown and one blue, and arms half covered like they was a glove, and a brown skin dark like carmel once it settles. “Who am I? Well I can be your savor or your worst fucking nightmare. Truly up to you darlings but I think I may have something you utterly desire.” he spoke with a smooth but dark voice.

“We want nothing of yours, demon!” A man says getting closer to land but only immediately falling to his knees in pain. Fading away into ash, Dia chuckles and takes his hat off in respect. “See here gentleman, you can call me whatever you want but the more you deny me the more you deny the only way to feel the sand in between your toes, the heat from the sun, and the sin you disgustingly want with another body.” Dia says already getting impatient.

Dia puts the barrels down to sit on top of it while his tail just sways back and forth. The two men still alive inhale and smell blood in the barrels. Dia sees this and chuckles “Now I think yall are getting my drift here. These barrels contain what you need to feel land but on one condition.” He says poking a hole into the barrel for them to get a better whiff of the blood. The men look at each other and back at Dia, putting away their swords.

“What’s the condition?” one of them asked “I need a boat and a crew. Where can I find both of them, maybe even just one but where?” Both men look at each other thinking before finally saying. “There's an island 3 days from here. It’s called Rikers Island where you’ll find all the crooked criminals. You’ll find your crew there but for the boat that’s a longer story. ” Dia throws one of the barrels at the man. He watches as they fight over the one barrel till the one pushes the other off of him and takes the barrel and runs.

“Don’t forget I have two so tell me about the boat or you can stay here for all of your natural unborn life.” Dia says, looking at his nails waiting for his answer. “If you want a boat you have to be granted it by the ocean.” Dia looks at him curiously “What do you mean?” “In this world, there are 4 elements: each one grants people these blessings basically, if the fire grants you worthy of wielding its power it gives you that and more. 3 people were already granted these powers, One was granted earth, one was granted fire, and one was granted wind.”

Dia ponders this and tells him to continue. “If you want to get blessed, some people say you have to bring offerings, or you have to die to get your blessing. Many have brought the sea offerings only to be denied. If you can get the sea to approve you. You are one lucky son of a bitch.” The man says being close to fading out since the sun is almost out. “Please we had a deal! I told you everything I know! Give me the barrel!” Dia pokes a hole in the barrel only for it to leak out sand. “Whoops. I guess I forgot to fill it.” He says with a smirk and walks away as he listens to the man screaming curses at him.

Dia walks away and hums before stopping in front of the sea. “So I guess I gotta start bringing you offerings huh? Let’s see what the sea likes.” he says walking away. While in a different timezone on the other side of the world.

~~~~

A shadow, a mystery, and danger to most but mostly to his kill-list but to others he’s an introvert, keeps his head down and keeps to himself. His name is Nahru Ito and he’s a 23 year old ninja assassin.

Leaving the house at 15, meeting his Master Osaka. Nahru was always the silent type, never really in drama. Was more focused on his training than instead of finding love or having fun. I know it's cliche but he is still a child so I can understand.

Living in an ‘entertainment’ district Sokjin, Japan. Nahru was never allowed out, especially at night. So he trained and trained and slept until he was 18. This was the age he left to explore and start his ninja career. While also getting hired at Osaka's club. The Drunken Fox this club was very known especially for those desperate bitches who needed love.

And our character Nahru was one of the hosts. He was very requested by a few men but mostly women. Let me stop you right there by host club I mostly mean people who need dates, arm candy even for events. While being one of the hosts he was also a bodyguard to keep the place in control.

Until he was approached by a very known client that was in trouble. “I need your help. I know you're just a bodyguard and a ninja but I need your help. I can pay you however but I need you to get rid of someone for me. ” He gets curious and pulls the client into the room so they can talk privately.

“What’s going on?” He asks the client giving her water to drink . “It’s my sister she went missing a few days back only to be found once again but when she got back I could tell she wasn’t herself.” “I mean she got kidnapped so she’s probably scared.” “That’s what I thought too but when she came back with this guy nowhere near her type he…was weird. When I say weird I mean weird he talked in third person. Always holding the back of my sister's neck to keep her near him. Never slept and never ate.” She continues to tell him the situation.

“What do you want me to do about it?” He asks her, realizing what she’s talking about. “I will pay you a thousand dollars to get info and get rid of him and find my sister.” She says her eyes filled with despair and maybe even some guilt. “Make it 3,000 and you have a deal.” She agrees and gives him enough information for him to get started.

Nahru packs his stuff getting ready to make his journey over to Tokyo, Japan. As he does he starts asking locals about him. “Oh yeah, he's a very strange man. Never talked to anyone but himself and his wife. His wife was weirder though she used to smile and wave and even play with the kids but now she just stares. Always has this blank, no emotion stare. Un-human even.” The locals continue to explain until the wife and husband come out. “Look there, they go right there. See the way she just stares.” Nahru looks at her and notices more than just an emotionless void.

He notices a camera and realizes something about her neck. It turned at an unnatural angle. ‘Weird’ he thinks as he finds his temporary home for him to stay. Over the weeks he investigates and searches for answers all while more creepy stuff has happened. All the locals turned into emotionless creatures and always stared at him with blank stares. Never smiled or wave, never stopped him to talk.

They were always just staring. It didn't make him uneasy but it made him more curious than ever. The week continued with more and more strange things happening. Until he woke up one day vision foggy, hearing clouded, and his head was pounding. He tried to rub his eyes only for him to find out his hands were tied to the wall. He looks around to see all the villagers and even the sister scared and frightened.

All pleading or begging to be released. Some pray to the gods above while others just want to know what’s going on. Nahru asks the person next to him what's going on. “I-I don’t know. We woke up here with no explanation. They put food in the middle and expect us to fight over them and when we don’t…….they kill us.” The man says scared.

A red light starts shining and a loud buzzer starts going off. The middle part of the ceiling starts slowly moving down. In the middle, is stale and bland food while everyone is looking at the food. The handcuffs release their hands for them to start fighting. Except for Nahru……

Chapter two

#love story #oc x oc #onis #pirates #vampires #first series #monster smut #monster boyfriends #boy on boy

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deadlyflan · 11 months ago

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Ah! My favorite scene is from the TMNT Chain Reaction fic that I wanted to talk about when I started this Ask-A-Thon. It's my favorite interlude because it's the first full-sensory experience my OC, a mutant turtle girl named Dinah, gets of the TMNT core cast.

She's been recovering from a medically induced quasi-cryogenic sleep. Her eyesight has been greatly reduced. She's not in full control of her limbs. She's been bed-bound while the restorative process slowly brings her back to health.

The TMNT family has been treating her with kid gloves. Not only is she medically fragile, but she's the first girl mutant they've ever encountered. Out of respect and reasonable worry, they've minimized physical contact, tried not to crowd her, and generally been very careful about their interactions with her.

While that's polite and good--because they are good boys, these 1990s TMNT movie-verse turtles--Dinah's lived experience has been with an exceptionally tactile pile of sisters back at her home laboratory. Dinah, with her vision reduced to extreme near-sightedness and her mobility reduced to near zero, has been getting more and more distressed by the LACK of contact in this new place with its new people.

EXCERPT OF (draft)SCENE::

The men moved so quickly! Her eyes refused to focus, but even if they had been cooperative, Dinah wasn't sure she could have kept up. Dark, blurred shapes were moving and talking at the doorway. ‘Mike’ had appeared on the mattress at her left. By the time she registered his presence, suddenly the first man was much closer.

They’d confirmed they were turtles when she last woke, so the colored bits on their round heads were probably hats. Now that they were at arm’s length, she could tell that the first was blue and the one on her left was orange. Good! She could use the hats to tell them apart when they weren't talking.

“I'm going to lean you forward a moment while my brother sets up the pillows behind you. Is that all right?" Leonardo stood near her hips. He had previously picked her up a few times in getting her to the bed but this would be the first time she was awake and conscious enough to ask about it.

Both men were much larger this close, and definitely the same kind of strange-smelling turtle as the one who held his hand to her cheek. She could not distinguish their individual scents, though. They mingled and merged with each other and the rest of the room, but the flavor and textures her nose reported added to their imposing auras. They waited above her and she squinted to make sense of how their hats worked. Where were these giant turtles’ eyes?

Michelangelo cleared his throat. Dinah’s silence had stretched and left Leonardo standing there awkwardly. Something had confused her. All they needed was approval to get her settled.

"It'll only be for a moment. You’ll be able to sit up on your own." Leonardo wasn't sure what had derailed her, but for a split-second she managed actual eye contact, and he could feel his cheeks heating. He ignored his body's reaction to the awkwardness--his only option with Michelangelo kneeling right there on the bed.

Dinah’s attention snapped back from wherever it had wandered. "Oh. Yes, sir."

Mike snorted. "That's no ‘sir,’ that's Leo.”

Caught off guard by the ‘sir,’ Leonardo was grateful for Mike's interjection. "Michelangelo’s right. No need for formality with my brothers or myself. Let me just lean you forward first."

Leonardo leaned down, folded back her blankets just a bit, and slid a hand under each of her arms. Her under arm skin slipped beneath his fingers like silk. There wasn't a spot on his entire body with scales so smooth — well, not anywhere a gentleman considers while helping a bedbound young lady. He cracked down on that train of thought immediately. He eased her upright. She struggled for a moment to keep her head at the right angle, but got it under control before he could change his grip.

He could feel the bones of her upper arms. If anything dampened inappropriate reactions, that did. Some human, possibly one he had known and trusted had raised her in captivity for years and fed her the bare minimum. He held her upright effortlessly, but his thoughts now focused on the coming information. Anything she could tell them would help free the other turtles and take out Perry and anyone assisting him.

Dinah marveled at the warmth radiating from his hands. Not overbearing and hot like human hands, but gentle and permeating like a nice lamp. He held her upright effortlessly, as if she were a stack of fluffy towels. Finally sitting up, her blood pounded in her head and she reeled in a swirl of strong arms and warm hands.

Michelangelo made short work of the pillows, mounding them up like a wall with a concave impression that would cradle her shell. Bonus, it offered support for her head if she needed to lean back. He was an expert at this arrangement; it was hands-down the best for binging movie marathons. "All set!”

Leo flashed his brother a tight, grateful smile over Dinah’s head. He was back in control and very ready to move into the planning portion of all this. "Thanks, Mike. Can you pull those?,” he pointed with his eyes. He indicated the waterproof layers beneath her and Mike caught on quickly. "I'll make sure she stays covered and move her backwards with you.”

Leonardo slid one hand further back to cradle her shell and let her lean back against his forearm while he pulled her blankets up as high as he could. Only inches from her, he addressed her once more. "OK, Dinah. You ready? On three. One. Two. Three."

He casually lifted her just an inch or so. He moved her easily with one arm around the bowl of her shell and the other pinning her blankets high on her left side as he dragged her backwards in concert with Michelangelo.

Dinah held her breath. He was enormous! Every time he moved closer, she reassessed her estimate of his size. She had never known a turtle with shoulders so broad. And he was definitely a turtle. His front plates brushed hers when he first lifted her. It grated on strange nerves like two teeth touching unexpectedly. She shivered at the sensation. Her head fell forward and bumped gently off his jaw and shoulder. His skin pressed against her cheek and she felt his firm muscles shifting beneath his scales.

His scent surrounded her. Undeniably turtle, but absolutely nothing like any of her sisters. His musk flooded her nose with a rounded, dark scent that clarified what she’d smelled in her blankets and in the room. This, though? It snapped into focus the way her eyes would not — she had simply never been close enough to perceive it properly.

Oh, he smelled so healthy and strong; the kind family must take good care of him! Dinah breathed him in because he smelled new and strange and pleasant on a level she couldn't describe, but mostly because his scent was the same general shape as her sisters’ even if its textures and colors were all unexpected and different. She ached in the back of her throat and down into her chest. It was so close. Almost like being home. Almost.

She was sniffing him. Dinah was—was more than sniffing. She was breathing obviously, mouth open right up against his neck! Leo felt heat surge across his face. His brothers warned him about innocent, sleepy sniffs! Not… this!

Leonardo settled her against the pillows as quickly as he could without jostling her. He gulped a deep breath out of nervousness as he pulled his arm away. This close to her, he got much more than he had bargained for.

At this range, he understood what he did not get by sniffing near the doorway. Her scent was subtle, but there was almost a taste to the air. The same way you could smell the coming snow. The same way he could pick out each individual brother in a pitch black melee. The same way he knew when a brother was actually sick or just faking. Something lit up in the back of his mind that screamed, ‘GIRL.’

Leonardo's blush kept right on marching. It rolled from cheeks to beak to forehead to neck. Dammit. He breathed out and retreated, worried he’d overstepped somehow, but he paused and frowned. There had actually been a subtle sour note to the end of the smell, like an unpleasant aftertaste. To her scent. Something was off. She wasn't healthy. No kidding, she wasn’t healthy. He could see she wasn't healthy. He knew she wasn't healthy. It was just beyond bizarre to have his nose confirm it.

Leonardo rallied, trying not to let his thoughts show on his face or carry into his voice. Stay on target. "Are you better now, Dinah? Can you tell my family what you were telling me? About the buyout date?"

2. I would love to say that, 'yes! I use advanced techniques like foreshadowing and symbolism all the time!' but honestly, I'm more focused on making sure everything that's supposed to happen happens and everyone's reactions make consistent sense.

3. My process? I daydream the SHIT out of it. Play through the scene--don't like it? Brain Etch-A-Sketch! Shake your head and try it again. I have a bunch of paper journals where I trial different ways a scene could go. Write in pen and never look back. Just play and replay and spin it around and write it again. Does it feel better this time? Cool.

Day 3

What’s your favorite scene you’ve written? Why is that one your favorite?

Do you use symbolism and/or foreshadowing often? Why or why not? If so, give an example if you’d like.

What is your process like when coming up with a story?

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inkandpen22 · 3 years ago

Text

The Heiress and the Gangster (1/?)

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Female!Reader

Warnings: violence, swearing

Word Count: 2.7k

Part Summary: Y/N Adair, an American heiress, is visiting London for the social season with her fiancé Alfred Bamford. Alfie Simmons and Tommy Shelby have formed a plan to kidnap Y/N and hold her for ransom, that is until Tommy changes his mind...

Masterlist

Y/N

The car rolls up to the entrance of the race track. My driver, Mr. Richards, comes to a steady halt and immediately hops out of the car.

"Ready, darling?" Al questions with a grin beside me.

I pull back the velvet curtain covering my window to peer up at the arena. "As I'll ever be."

Mr. Richards opens the door and offers me his glove-covered hand. "Miss Adair."

I step out gracefully, my wide-brim hat blocking the beaming sun from my face. Al crosses behind the car to join me. His head finds its way to my back securely. Robert, my main bodyguard, climbs out of his own car with two more security my father hired. Al escorts me inside the stadium to the boxes. Robert leads the way with his two henchmen behind us. It's like being put into a human box.

When we arrive at our box, we're greeted by our friends in attendance. It's rare that we make it over to England, so when we do it's nice to see everyone. Al and I perform our social duties, making small talk and asking about everyone's families as though we all didn't have dinner together last night. It's the same couples in different settings for the entire month we're here.

_________________________________

Tommy

I watch from one of the pub tables at the top of the box with John as posh folks shuffle in to find their spots. When news broke that Y/N Adair would be visiting London for a month, both American and England were over the moon. The youngest child and only daughter of William Vincent Adair, the richest banker in America. She will inherit a third of his multi-million dollar fortune. It's a known fact amongst the public that's she's the favorite child so the percentage may be greater than just a third. My boys and Alfie's team are banking on that rumor. If she were to be kidnapped and held for ransom by a couple of English gangsters, it's certain her father will pay a hefty sum for her safe return to The States.

John nudges me subtly to avoid attention. "There she is!"

My eyes flicker away from the hustle and bustle of the crowd toward the entrance of the box. A young woman in an all-white lace dress crosses our path. A gentle smile rests across her lips as the Viscount and Viscountess Furness approach her, each greeting her with an embrace. Her Y/H/C hair peeks through beneath her lavish matching hat. For a moment, I experience hesitation. She's not what I expected at all.

John nudges my arm with a snicker. “You alright, Tom? Look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

I shake my head, taking a smoke from my cigarette. "No, that can't be her. She's far too young."

"Of course it is!" John argues.

A young gentleman in a brand new navy suit follows close beside her, keeping a protective hand pressed to her back. He shakes hands with his peers, charming his audience as he and Miss Adair are greeted with cheers.

"And her arrogant playboy fiancé, Alfred Bamford." My brother scoffs. "His family owns more railways in the U.S. than any company in the entire world!"

As my brother babbles, I watch closely as Y/N stands beside Alfred with a restrained, but convincing, smile. As he gloats and encourages banter with their fellow posh folk, she's quiet and glancing about the arena.

"Their marriage will create a media frenzy!" John describes in my ear. "Adair Banks and Bamford Rails, it's a match made in posh people heaven. Shame she'll never live to see it," he snickers.

I press my cigarette into the ashtray and turn my body toward my brother. "As soon as the gun fires that's when Alfie's man takes the shot.” I check my watch. “He'll be here in five minutes. That's when you leave and fetch the car. Understood?"

He nods sharply, "right, Tom. Got it."

___________________________________

Y/N

Anticipating the race, Al and I stand right against the rail with our dainty gold binoculars, searching for my family's horse.

"I need Olympus to win," I worry outwardly. "I need to prove to my father that this trip was worth it."

"I’m certain William will be pleased no matter the outcome."

"You don't know my father then," I chuckle.

"Excuse me!" A voice announces over the chatter of the box.

I glance over my shoulder as a well-dressed middle-aged man hurries up to my security. His brow is sweaty and his white suit wrinkled. He rushes out words to Robert before being escorted over to me.

"Welcome to Ascot, Madam," he welcomes, gesturing to the large building. "I'm John Wilkson and I'm a partner at the track. May I get you anything before the festivities?" He rubs his hands in circles nervously.

I offer John my hand with a warm smile. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance. If possible, I would like a pot of Earl Grey."

"Oh yes! Yes, definitely!" The man gushes as Robert leads him toward the door. "Right away, Madam!"

"Thank you!" I nod, maintaining my smile until he's out of view.

Al chuckles beside me at the man’s expense as he rubs his palm up and down my spine. "How are you enjoying it so far, My Dear?"

"I don't see what all the fuss is about," I remark. " It doesn't appear any more luxurious than Arlington Park."

"You are far too difficult to please, darling," he teases, scooping up my glove-covered hand and planting a kiss to the back of it.

"Welcome ladies and gentlemen to today's festivities..." the announcer begins, causing widespread cheering across the crowd.

Al and I clap our hands along with our friends.

"Your tea, Miss Adair, a young waiter informs me as he sets down the set on a side table by our chairs.

I thank him quietly before he dismisses himself.

"Don't forget, tonight is the dinner with Prince Albert and Lady Elizabeth," Al reminds me.

"Aw yes, thank you!" I express with relief as I step back to pick up my teacup and return to my spot beside him. "They're quite lovely, aren't they? Their engagement is such delightful news." I bring my cup to my lips for a sip.

"I'm certainly looking forward to the wedding, it'll be a spectacle." He smirks. “Another excuse to return in the spring.”

I narrow my eyes mischievously, sharing the same agenda as him. "They can be the social event of the season in England, but we shall claim America."

Tommy

Two of Miss Adair’s men are positioned outside while his Head stands against the far wall, just a few feet from her. Alfie's hitman enters the tent without suspicion, dressed like a posh race-goer and his gun well concealed. He glances in my direction, giving me the signal to release my brother. I give John a brief nod and he disappears through the opening in the curtain.

"Jockeys! Prepare your horses!" The announcer declares, marking the start of the races.

I clap along with the crowd. Everyone in the box is zoned in on the gates where the jockeys are mounting their horses. Alfie's man claps as well, keeping his eyes on the horses to blend in as he continues toward Miss Adair and Mr. Bamford. He stops in the second row, just behind the couple.

My eyes flicker to Y/N. A glowing smile forms across her face as she switches her sight away from the gates toward her fiancé. Her eyes glimmering with optimism and excitement. There’s a youthfulness in her I haven’t seen in anyone since the war. She has no idea that the man behind her has been sent to point a gun at her head and kidnap her. Her attention travels about the box, at her friends and peers. Her eyes glance in my direction, her soft Y/E/C eyes meet mine. Her radiating smile softens as her hands slows to a steady halt. Then, something in me just... snaps.

My attention changes to the man on the field lifts his gun into the air. At the same moment, Alfie's man reaches into his coat pocket.

"No! Wait!" I shout, knocking the table out of the way. "Everyone down!"

I leap over the chairs and tackle Alfie's man. He sets off the gun as we stumble to the floor, chairs flying all about. Screams ensue as we wrestle on the floor. A man I recognize as the Head of Y/N's security steps on Alfie's man's hand. With a hiss, he releases his fist around the gun and the security knocks it away. I rush to my feet to inspect the damages, to see if Y/N was hurt, but I see no sign of her. Where did the bullet hit? A hanging bit of cloth that was once the awning answers my question. The arena is in chaos as people travel upstream toward the exists. People are being trampled and pushing each other about.

I work against the traffic down toward the railing to where I last saw Y/N. I shove people out of my way in a hurry. Then, that's when I spot her hat, squashed flat on the floor. I lean down to pick it up and that's when I finally find her resting against the wood base of the rail, holding her head with a bloody hand.

Y/N

I remove my hand from my stinging forehead to see my once white-glove soaked in blood. One minute I was scanning the reaction of the crowd behind me, then there was a shout. The shot for the race to begin rang and I was knocked forward. My head hit the metal railing and I fell to the floor. My forehead was stinging and I realized I was bleeding. Then, I swear I heard another gunshot. I've tried to stand up, but everyone’s scrambling to get out. Plus, my head is throbbing

Suddenly, a man appears hovering above me. He stares down at me with a clenched jaw and a look of determination. He leans down, scoops up my unscathed hand. Before I utter a word, he begins to usher me through the chaos. My feet shuffle across the floor briskly to keep up as he grips my hand tightly. People continue to shout and scream for their loved ones, frightened.

"Who are you?" I ask loudly over the noise.

He ignores me, guiding the way through the arena. People rush down the closest stairs, eager to reach one of the main exits. This man, however, avoids all the staircases and remains on the walkway of the top floor. I sense he's leading me to the furthermost end and hopefully to an emergency exit.

"Answer me this instant!" I demand, attempting to yank my hand free. "Do you know who I am?"

"Yes, Miss Adair, I do!" He finally answers and whips his head around to meet my gaze. "Now, if you wish to not get shot, I suggest you follow me!"

I check over my shoulder for Al. "But my fiancé-"

"They're not after him," he states turning his attention back ahead.

My stomach drops. "You mean you know who's behind this?"

"I know enough..." His answer is vague and it worries me.

"Why do they wish to hurt me?"

"Your family is the wealthiest in the United States! You should really travel with more security," he suggests over his shoulder.

My prediction was correct, the man takes me to the furthest end of the platform to a fire escape of sorts behind a curtain. It's much less hectic than the main stairwells other than some workers attempting to escape. The man never releases my hand as he leads the swift way down the metal stairs. Once we're on solid ground, we weave through various parts of the arena. Booths and vendors scatter the area. The man seems to know this well, making a bee-line for a large white tent tucked away near the main staircase where Al and I first entered the race track.

When we rush into the tent, I first note a series of telephone booths, the dirt floor, and the absence of any of else. The man releases my hand and starts marching around. I assume checking to make sure we're alone. I spin around, checking my surroundings, frightened that one of these men this stranger speaks of will attack me suddenly.

My head is pounding and I can feel the warm blood twinkle down my cheek. My hair must look a fright. Who am I kidding, my white dress is covered in blood and dirt, every part of me is messy.

Tommy

Y/N and I both struggle to catch our breath. I double-check that neither Alfie nor any of his men are hiding out in here. "We should be safe in here," I announce.

"Don't you think we should fetch a car or something!" She rushes out worriedly. “My car is parked just-”

I shake my head, moving back toward her. "No, not yet. They'll be expecting that."

Now that her hand is away from her head, I can inspect her injury properly. A minor gash above her brow. It doesn't appear awful, won't need stitches, but she has significant amounts of blood down the side of her face and cheek.

Y/N

"Here." The man reaches into his pocket square and pulls out his handkerchief. He brings one hand behind my head and the other presses the fabric to my forehead. "We'll have someone look at this once everything is settled."

I nod, still a tad dazed to say the least. "Thank you," I mumble as my eyes fall to his tie directly ahead of me.

For a moment, despite the chaos outside the tent, there's a sense of peacefulness as the stranger pats my cut.

"So, you know my name, what's yours?" I ask. Considering he saved my life, I don't think we should be strangers anymore. “Since we were in the same box, I suspect you’re friends with the Bowes-Lyons.”

"Thomas, Thomas Shelby," he answers directly without much emotion.

"Well, despite the circumstance, it's pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sir. I'm surprised we've never met before considering we share friends."

A faint snicker escapes him as a smirk creeps onto the edge of his lips.

I grin. "What's so funny?"

"An heiress calling me "sir," he chuckles, glancing down from my forehead to meet my gaze. "It's not exactly something I thought I'd ever hear."

My brows scrunch together in confusion. “But aren’t you-”

"Tommy!" A voice calls from behind me.

Frightened, I rush to stand behind Mr. Shelby. My hands wrap around his bicep as I peek around his shoulder. His arm reaches around to keep me close to his back.

"In here Arthur!" He hollers.

Wait, he knows the person?

Suddenly, a lengthy man with a mustache marches into the tent. When his eyes land on us, his brows scrunch together. "What's this? What happened to-"

"Change of plans," Mr. Shelby states, physically relaxing at the sight of him.

The man switches his sight between me and Mr. Shelby. He rocks on his heels nervously. He steps to the side to get a better view of me. "Oh uh... hello then... Miss Adair. Nice to meet ya," he greets.

"And he's a friend?" I ask Mr. Shelby quietly.

He chuckles. "Yes, he's my brother. He's safe."

I step out from behind him hesitantly. I redirect my attention to Arthur and remove my glove to offer him my hand slowly. "Pleasure to meet you as well."

His brows rise at the sight of my hand, but he shakes it nonetheless. He chuckles. "She's awfully friendly," he tells his brother.

"Did you happen to see my fiancé? Alfred Bamford," I ask, growing worried that Al may have been hurt.

"He was escorted to your car I believe by one of your security."

"And the others?" I press urgently. “Are my friends alright? What about Lord and Lady Elphinstone?”

His features fall. "I lost them in the crowd, Miss..."

My eyes grow wide. "I should go find them!"

I go to head back outside, but Mr. Shelby grabs my wrist and steps to block my path.

"The men trying to harm you may still be out there," he warns.

"But my friends! Alfred!” I argue. “They’re probably worried sick! I’ll find my car and have them take me back to the hotel!”

"They'll be searching for you there! I'm sure they already have it staked out."

I huff. "Then where do you suggest I go?"

His eyes flicker to his brother and it's evident a thought has crossed his mind.

"I have an idea..." he states vaguely.

Oh no...

_______________________

Masterlist

#peaky blinder imagine #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfiction

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years ago

Note

I’m not sure if you have something planned for this already but wouldn’t it be the height of irony if Tooley got monched on by a starved Chris when he forgot to drug him? Just opens the door and whoops! He eaten!

CW: Whumper death, drunkenness, some dehumanization, blood drinking, bit of gore, vampirism, some very light catholicism

New York City, 1936

KING EDWARD VIII ABDICATES THRONE British Monarch to Wed American Socialite Wallis Simpson

Tooley kicks at the sodden, half-frozen newspaper stuck to his shoe, grunting with the effort it takes to dislodge it. His hands are buried deep in the pockets of his thick woolen coat, and he ignores the envious stares of others whose threadbare outfits are patched, whose gloves are little more than rags wrapped around their not-quite-frostbitten fingers.

Instead, he pulls his scarf up higher, tucks his chin beneath its knitted warmth, and finally manages to send the scrap of paper with its water-stained black-and-white image of a stern-faced soon-to-be ex-king and his Baltimore lover into the street, where it sticks in a puddle and soaks clean through.

The old-timers say a heavy rain is coming, citing their aching joints and bones. It's been a wet winter already, and the absolute last thing New York needs is more rain.

Tooley plans to be holed up in his nice warm little house for the whole of it. He's sold three paintings in a month, and he can spend the next few weeks on the next one until his hands want to drop right off his wrists without having to distract himself with petty concerns like money.

The liquor bubbles warm inside him, and even with the frigid air he's broken a sweat along his back, trickling to his waistband, almost a tickle. He stumbles a little, catches himself, coughs out a laugh as the cold air burns deep into his lungs. It can't penetrate the hazy heat of the drink, though.

Mel's always has the best whiskey, and Tooley has the green these days to pay for the very best indeed. He's spent what might be a whole month's pay - if he weren't the luckiest artist in New York - in a single night.

You might say he's made a deal with the devil.

He pulls the brim of his fedora down, shielding his brow from the bit of freezing moisture speckling his cheeks. He struggles not to giggle like a child.

"Got a bit to spare for a hungry man?" A rasping voice calls out from an alley as he passes. "Help me feed my family, sir? I'm out of work, sir! Got three little ones with hungry bellies!"

Tooley ignores him.

There are crowds like that everywhere these days, always pressing for help, for a little something more and more and more. Men out of work, men in bread lines, women with tired faces and sad children. He's had just about enough of it.

They're calling it a depression, and he finds the term apt enough, considering it seems the whole country's been tumbled into a hole and can't find its way out.

He'd take his muse to Europe and paint there if it weren't for the echoing tension that bleeds over across the sea. Every nation he's idolized for their arts is trying to posture at each other. Rattling sabers while the people sigh heavily and keep washing their laundry, like always.

Tooley was a child when the Great War tore his own family apart - losing an older half-brother to the pointless trenches, a father to the mustard gas that ate his lungs to pieces, a mother to her desperate, sharp grief at her husband and stepson's loss.

The War had rendered him alone in the world before he was even twenty, though he'd been too young to hardly understand it and it had had nothing to do with him.

Wars were for rich men to send poor men to fight in, and Tooley is hoping to have enough wealth to maybe just float right past a new one, if the rumors beginning to swirl came true and Europe is going to erupt. Surely, though, no one would let a second war as horrible as the last happen.

Surely not.

Still, even so, he can simply disappear if they try to call him up to fight. He has no one left to lose, after all. No one to fight for, no one to care for. No one but his pretty little model, all locked away, his to keep.

Tooley takes a sharp left and the streets begin to change from the harsher gray of the city proper into neighborhoods, houses crammed tightly together. It's not the best part of town - Tooley's parents weren't the wealthiest, and he doesn't live like a gentleman, he's got no need to, it's not how he thinks a proper artist should live anyway. Have to keep up the image of the nearly-starving creative genius, after all.

There are still lights in some windows, despite the late hour. Tooley isn't the only one drunk at midnight and still moving.

It's a mile or so from the start of his street to where his house is nestled between two others, close enough he could reach out his kitchen window and touch the brick of the home next door. He smiles a little. His nose aches with the cold at the tip of it, but that's nothing to worry himself over.

He's home.

It takes him four tries to unlock his front door, the key jabbing into wood and brass too far to one side or the other. He laughs, breath puffing white clouds into the air, his ears burning with the cold where his hat doesn't quite cover them.

Good thing he's not with a woman, tonight, if his aim's so bad with just his hands.

The thought makes him laugh harder, nearly a guffaw, loud enough that he's sure he's woken a neighbor or two. It's not the first time.

Finally, the key slides home and the lock clicks and Tooley moves inside. The house is chilled in the entryroom, but as he slides his coat and fedora off to leave them on the coat rack and moves into the kitchen, towards the back, he can feel the warmth slowly trickling from the ticking radiators along the walls.

He's due for a coal delivery in the next couple of days, and boy, he's going to need it with the weather the way it's been.

Tooley heads for his perfect little secret, the vampire held in the backroom, once a sort of servant's bedroom for some family that had owned the home even before his own parents did. It's his studio, now, and the place where the little vampire boy is kept.

He unlocks that door, too. A key, a deadbolt, a little sliding lock at the top for added safety.

"Here, kitty kitty kitty," He slurs, and laughs again, delighted at his own little joke.

There's a scrape and a rustle, and Tooley steps back to let the vampire boy move forward, out of the freezing unheated room - Tooley only turns the radiator on in there when he himself is working, it's not like dead things care about being warm after all - and into the kitchen proper, with its little two-person table.

The boy is looking dirty - he's due for a bath, long overdue honestly. Good things he doesn't sweat enough to stink.

His hair hangs lank in his eyes, closer to dark copper than the new-penny shine Tooley prefers. There are smudges along his cheeks, marring his perfect freckles. He's draped in a sweater patched badly where his elbows have worn holes right through, pants that are tied with a rope since Tooley sure isn't going to waste money on a belt for a corpse.

"Is, did, did you, um, did you bring me food?" The vampire boy looks up at him, eyes glinting a little in the dimness, that unsettling cat-like glow-in-the-dark effect. His little fangs flash, too. "I'm... I'm, I'm hungry, Tooley."

"I know you are, bloodsucker."

"It's, it's been, um, it's been weeks, Tooley-"

"I know, I know. Shut your trap." Tooley ruffles his hair, then pulls his hand back with a grimace as he remembers how dirty and greasy it's gotten, walking away to go to the sink and wash his hands. "We'll get t'that. I met with someone very important at th' bar tonight, and first things first, you and I are going to celebrate."

The boy moves slowly, staying half-crouched - he's been hit before, when Tooley didn't want him to stand all the way up. He settles himself against the wall, head tilted to the side. His cheekbones cut sharp angles in his face, edging down to his narrow chin.

Those big green eyes follow Tooley everywhere he goes.

"Celebrate what?" He asks, and Tooley wonders just how old the ridiculous little thing is. He'd said early aughts, hadn't he, on when he was turned? So he'd be, what, in his forties really?

Funny.

Was he locked up during the Great War?

He's still a pretty teenager, but he's probably closing in on fifty. Tooley's twenty-some years younger and looks infinitely older, in his own estimation.

Tooley should look into vampirism, seems an excellent way to hold onto your looks, doesn't it? He wonders if the boy knows how to turn him. They could make beautiful work forever...

Hm.

Something to ruminate over when he's hungover in the morning.

"New commission. I'm taking a few weeks off, give us both a break, but I've got the basic details. I'll pick up a broad, get her all set up for modeling, we'll make us a mint, sweetheart." He moves to the counter, picking up the half-full bottle of gin he keeps there, taking a swig and grimacing, coughing. There's a rattle in his lungs these days he doesn't like much.

"You'll, you'll kill her?" The vampire watches him. He looks hungry, with all those sharp lines emphasized, as though he were a painting himself still in progress, with the outline still written in graphite showing through the colors. He's pale, painted in wash, not yet turned to vivid velvet intensity with oils.

"'Course. You think any of my models would stay alive anywhere near you?" He laughs at the very idea, missing the vampire's little flinch as he turns away. He pulls a loaf of bread from the breadbox, already starting to stale but that's all right, he's going to toast it over the stove anyway. The world swims around him from the liquor, and he catches the counter with one hand to keep himself upright.

The feeling brings another laugh out of him.

The little vampire smiles faintly in echo of it. He has to work to get the stove to gas, narrowing his eyes as it struggles, sputters, before finally a little flame flares up. Just enough to give off a little heat for the toast.

"Fuck. Drank too much. Or not enough." He laughs again, and pulls a knife from the knifeblock, the sharp serrated thin blade best for slicing through the heavy sourdough he buys from a woman down the block. Bit of toast, pat of salted butter, that'll get him through to morning when he can head down for eggs and bacon at Paulie's diner.

Maybe he'll even buy some extra for the hungry men who hound around the doors. He can be a philanthropist.

As he slices, the knife slips off the stale, hard crust and cuts right through the back of his hand, a long line immediately welling with bright red blood. He groans, irritated, and sets the knife down, turning to run cold water over it as the pain flares bright, but slightly muted from his drunkenness.

There's a rustle behind him, and Tooley's mind only belatedly begins to allow alarm to trickle through the warm fuzz of the gin and whiskey. He slowly turns around.

Where the vampire boy had been curled against the wall, a bundle of skinny bones and too-big clothes, there's... nothing.

Tooley glances to one side and sees the boy crouched on the floor by the edge of the lower cabinets, his hands pressed into the ground. He moved five feet in less than a second.

His eyes are flared, wide and with pupils burying the iris in black. He clicks, softly, tongue against teeth in an inhuman way.

Click-click-click-click.

click-click-click.

How'd he move so fast?

"Shit," Tooley whispers. "When's the last time I fed you?"

The vampire doesn't answer, only stares, unblinking, muscles tensing and relaxing, tensing and relaxing. He clicks again.

His lips pull back from his teeth and those fangs that seem so cute and little on every other day suddenly look long, like daggers, dripping a shimmering venom to the ground.

Tooley tries not to blink, too, but his eyes dry and dry and dry and eventually he can't help it. His eyes close, a fraction of a second, and flare open right away.

Not fast enough.

The vampire leaps and Tooley grunts at the impact of the small bony body against his own, his lower back smacking into the line of the counter with a flash of pain. The bread and knife both clatter to the ground.

Panic comes, but it doesn't help. He's still groping to get at another knife when the vampire's fingernails dig into his scalp, grip into his hair and jerk his head to the side to bare his throat.

"Hungry," The vampire boy hisses. "Hungry, Tooley. Hungry."

"I-I know, just, just don't blow your wig, gimmee a minute, I can get you something, just hold on-" Tooley's voice is thin from the harsh angle his neck is being held at, and he swallows, seeing in a bleary haze the way the vampire's huge eyes are focused on the movement of his adam's apple, the bob of his throat.

Can he see the blood pulsing there?

He puts his hands up against the vampire's chest to try and push him off, but it's like pushing against rock. He thinks about painting the vampire as a kind of young Prometheus for a dandy from Boston, tied naked to a rock to be pecked at by eagles, and wonders if the mythological man ever tried to push the rock itself, and if it failed as miserably for him as it does for Tooley now.

"There's blood in the shed out back, just let me go and I'll grab it for you." He pitches his voice soothing and slightly patronizing, like speaking to a whining dog. "Okay, kitten? Just two minutes and you'll be fed, right as rain."

The vampire pauses, hesitates, and Tooley feels his hands working at Tooley's hair and one shoulder, like a cat kneading into your lap before they settle. His little stray. His breathing starts to ease, his heart to slow down, the first rush of panic subsiding.

The world still spins a little, but the rush of adrenaline is settling things into something more solid, wiping away the liquor.

"I'll put you back in your room and go get it for you, it's right outside, good and cold," Tooley coos, and realizes too late it isn't what he should have said.

"There's blood right here, and and and, and, and it's living," The vampire boy says, eyes wide and inhuman, and he's absolutely gorgeous. "Your, your, yours is hot."

Tooley would paint him like this, all feral instinct overwriting the living corpse of an anonymous Irish immigrant who died dozens of years ago. A metaphor, maybe, for the way some of the children who come here lose all their European culture and get boorishly American, and-

The vampire bites down, and all thoughts of art and culture flee from Tooley's mind.

The liquor holds off the pain so long the venom hits before he even feels the way those sharp teeth have breached his skin. He goes limp, dropping in a heap to the floor. He thinks he hits his head on the loaf of bread before it knocks into the floor.

They feel about the same level of hardness.

The knife is right next to his head, lying there, shining in the yellowed lamplight, with its carved wooden handle.

All he has to do is move his hand a few inches to reach it.

Just a few inches.

He tries, desperately, to tell his fingers where to go.

The vampire sucks hard at the wound in his neck, pulling blood from his veins like a man drinking an egg cream after a long hot day's work, and Tooley groans. He can feel the press and pull without the pain, and it's the strangest thing he's ever felt. Stranger than those he's gone to bed with.

The venom makes his limbs feel like stones, weighed down to motionless. He struggles even to swallow saliva, to take a deep breath. His heart never races again with panic. He isn't able to feel it any longer.

Those sharp little fingernails dig hard into his shoulders, the weight of the vampire settled on him, straddling him. A little flirty thought - at least buy me dinner first - makes its way across his mind, barely coherent, slow as molasses.

The vampire starts up his soft rumble, the vibration filtering in through into Tooley's body. It seems like it makes him feel even more frozen, heavy as the ocean and weightless at once.

His eyes are on the ceiling, and he realizes how long it's been since anyone cleaned the corners where cobwebs have grown and grown. They need swept away.

Funny how he never noticed before. Too busy with his art.

There's a moment where Tooley is surprised to look down at himself, as if he's floating somewhere near the ceiling staring down at his own open eyes. When he needed not to blink, he couldn't stop himself, but now the body he is looking at just stares and stares and stares, unseeing, unblinking, unbreathing-

Oh.

As soon as the realization hits, Tooley's awareness of himself as a body he can observe is gone.

There is darkness, and then a point of terrible final light. He feels the grasping of bloodied hands.

And he's gone.

The vampire drinks until the blood stops pumping, until the heart beneath his kneading hand is still. Then a rough tongue laps at the wounds, finding the last few droplets there that still sing with life.

The vampire pulls back, skin flush with life, no longer white as snow. His freckles stand out, scattered like constellations of stars over his skin. The dead man beneath him has all the paleness he had before, they are switched, swapped death for life.

He wipes the blood from around his mouth and looks slowly upwards, breathing in deep gulps he doesn't need but which feel so, so good.

He moves to the stove, to turn it off, but he doesn't quite turn it off all the way. An odd smell fills his nose and the vampire's nostrils wrinkle, but he doesn't know what the scent is, and he simply pulls Tooley's coat on before he leaves, door unlocked.

A few minutes later, a man with his hands over a barrel fire looks up to see a redheaded teenager in a woolen coat far too large for him move under a streetlamp, pausing to look up at it as if surprised by how bright its light is.

He blinks, and the man squints.

The young man's mouth is open, as if scenting the air by letting it roll over his tongue. Before the man can quite understand what he is looking at, the boy's mouth closes and he turns to look at the man. As his eyes shift from being lit by the lamp to draped in shadow, though...

They glow.

"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," The man whispers, crossing himself hurriedly. "Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle, b-be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil-"

The boy looks right at him, head tilted. The flames of the barrel flicker, hissing a little when raindrops start to fall. His lips pull back from his teeth and there are an animal's fangs there, plain as day.

The man feels pure horror at the sight of a demon walking free and unfettered in New York City. He grabs at the cross he wears around his neck and holds it out, his voice trembling. "May G-God... rebuke him, we humbly pray-"

"I, I, I hope that works for you," The boy says, and his voice is soft, and there's almost a lilt of the old country there that the man recognizes, not quite his own but not far off. "It never d-did for, um, for me. Don't worry. I'm... I'm full. You're, you're, you're in no danger from me. When, when, when, when... when did you come here? To this place?"

The man swallows around a lump in his throat, and yet he finds himself compelled to answer honestly. "Two years past, give or take. Came with m'wife and baby girl."

"From where?"

"... Kerry," He says, against his will. He can't seem to hold back the words. "And my wife grew up in County Cork."

The boy smiles, and his horrid teeth disappear when his lips press together. He looks for all the world like any other young man, a bit skinny perhaps and in need of a good meal or three, but no danger to anyone.

But the man has seen the demon that he is, and he finds himself grateful for the fire between them and the cross still in his hand, the shield of St. Michael and the cloak of Christ Himself.

"My, my, my, my parents were from County Cork," The demon boy says, lightly. His lilt is slightly stronger. "Wonder if we're cousins, your your wife and I. Maybe so. Stay home, um, after dark. Don't, don't, don't work when the sun is, um, is down."

The boy turns and walks away.

The man realizes with a start that in the midst of a chilly December night, the boy's feet are utterly bare. He steps over ice like he could walk on water.

There was blood smeared on the back of his coat.

The man flinches as he hears a sudden boom, close enough that he feels it in his chest as well as hearing the sound. A moment later a woman runs by shouting that a house has caught flame, to call for help.

The man looks back at the way the boy went.

He's gone.

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @insaneinthepaingame @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @newandfiguringitout @astrobly @endless-whump @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @doveotions @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @downriver914 @whumptywhumpdump @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @what-a-whump

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 4 years ago

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When We Were Young Part Three

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader Rating: T Notes: Not beta-read I just wanted to thank everyone for the likes/comments/reblogs!! I really appreciate it! Warnings: Uuuuuh none Summary: “Have you seen this?” You turned around to see Sherlock holding up the Pall Mall Gazette. You strode forward, holding your hand out for it.

Your next day was spent looking in on your aunt (your father’s sister, Mary - a kind woman, but always troubled with some illness; she would spend nearly an hour describing it to you and then say, “But I don’t want to bore you with that, dearie, it’s a trouble for an old woman”), as well as meeting with one of the investors that your father had asked you to speak with. You’d taken over the use of Cornelius’ study while you were in town, and had hoped that the atmosphere would soften the man’s attitude toward you. Unfortunately, it hadn’t had the desired effect. The man had been rude and condescending. It had taken everything in your power to keep your head and not snap at the man in the way you wanted to. As irritated as you were, this was your father’s livelihood, and the way he kept a roof over all your heads. That being said, you were in an awful mood when your Uncle informed you of a visitor. “Who is it?” You asked. Cornelius chuckled at your dark tone. “No need to look so dour. It’s your friend, Mr. Holmes,” He said. You hesitated before turning to answer him. “Which Mr. Holmes?” You asked. “The detective, not the politician,” He reassured you. You nodded. “Send him in, then,” You agreed. As soon as Cornelius was out of the room, you found yourself turning to check your reflection in the glass of the cabinet, reaching up to tuck away a stray hair. You immediately felt ridiculous. Sherlock wasn’t there to see you, he was there to tell you about what he knew about Enola. You huffed, resting your hands on your hips and turning away from the cabinet. Surely it was the meeting with your father’s investor earlier that had you so riled. Your hands absently smoothed over the skirt of your dress before you raised a hand to fiddle with the cameo on your choker. You heard the door open and you lowered your hand, resting it on the back of a chair. You opened your mouth to greet him, but he spoke up before you could. “Who did it?”

He’d hardly been there a moment and he was already throwing around questions.

“Excuse me?” You asked. “Who upset you?” He pressed. You had expected Cornelius to come in behind him, but the door closed, leaving the two of you alone. You knew that your mother would have a fit if she found out you were alone with a man, especially when her brother was meant to be looking after you. It was one thing for Sherlock to come and speak with you alone when you were in your own home. Your parents were always wary of what may happen to you and your reputation when you traveled - “People talk in London,” Your mother would always sniff (as if the country was entirely free of gossip). “What makes you think I’m upset?” You asked. Sherlock strode further into the study, looking you over openly. You didn’t have a book to hide behind this time, though, and despite the fact that you were wearing several layers of clothing, you felt very exposed. “You mean beyond your inability to keep still?” He asked. “I haven’t moved since you came in,” You argued. “Your fingers haven’t stopped tapping on that chair,” Sherlock nodded toward your hand. You hadn’t even noticed you started, and you immediately pressed the pads of your fingers into the leather of the chair to still them. “Your shoulders are pulled incredibly tight,” Sherlock added, continuing to come closer. “I value good posture,” You excused. “You're flushed...And your jaw is clenched,” Sherlock added, stopping right in front of you. You immediately relaxed your jaw, but the redness in your face, well. There was nothing you could do about that. “...Have you heard anything about Enola?” You asked, choosing not to address his initial question of who had upset you. Sherlock watched you for a few seconds as if waiting for you to crack. Then he hummed thoughtfully, brushing past you to go the desk. You felt your shoulders relax as he did; you hadn’t even realized how tense you were. You hated how easily he could read those things on you - but you reminded yourself that he could read those things on anyone.

“Have you seen this?” You turned around to see Sherlock holding up the Pall Mall Gazette. You strode forward, holding your hand out for it. He passed it to you before he unbuttoned his jacket, leaning back against the desk. You skimmed the article he’d opened to: Disturbance on London Express. Two Boys Leap From Train. Your brow furrowed as you turned away from him, paper in hand as you began to read it to yourself in a mutter: “There was a report of a disturbance on a London bound train yesterday morning. The London express train had left Basilweather station at 9:15, and was bound for the city when passengers witnessed two boys and a man with a bowler hat moving around the carriages excitedly and with much haste--” “You still read aloud to yourself?” You ear caught on the teasing in Sherlock’s tone and you grumbled, “Shush,” Before you went on reading in silence. You’d skimmed the article that morning, but it hadn’t caught your eye the way it had Sherlock’s. You unfolded the paper when you finished, eyes darting to the article on the Marquess that was reported missing before you rejoined Sherlock at the desk, pressing the paper into his chest wordlessly. You had intended to move your hand away, assuming he’d catch the paper quickly enough, but his hand quickly covered yours, keeping it there. It wasn’t for more than a moment or two, but it felt like ages. You never went into public without your gloves, rarely met with men or had occasion to touch a gentleman’s hand besides. Now Sherlock’s thumb brushed over your bare knuckles, the pads of his fingers fanning out over the back of your hand. It was a simple touch, innocent and soft, but it set your blood singing. You slipped your hand out from under his, picking up a stack of mail that had been deposited on the side of the desk and beginning to leaf through it. In truth, you’d already done this once, half an hour ago, but you needed something to keep your eyes off of Sherlock’s and your hands away from his. “...Thoughts?” He asked. You could hear him refolding the paper. “You know these matters better than I. I’ve never been in a situation where I’ve had to go looking for someone that didn’t want to be found,” You answered. “Perhaps not, but you’ve spent more time with Enola than I have in these last few years.” “Yes, and whose fault is that?” You volleyed back dryly, turning a letter over and inspecting the wax seal. When Sherlock didn’t answer, you glanced up to find him frowning and staring ahead. “Your jaw is clenched,” You informed him, reaching up and tapping at the tight muscle with the letter. Sherlock cut you a sharp look, and you smiled sweetly before you lowered your eyes back to the mail, tossing the letter onto the desk. “If that was her, she’ll have changed her disguise by now,” You added, “Your sister isn’t stupid. She knows that that incident will have caught some people’s attention.” “I know that she’s not stupid,” Sherlock snapped. You regarded him carefully out of the corner of your eye. There was only one person that could get a rise out of Sherlock when you were children - you had been his favorite target then, and Sherlock let him at it, as long as it meant Sherlock got some peace. You weighed your options before deciding to play your hunch. “What did Mycroft say?” You asked knowingly. Sherlock directed his gaze elsewhere in the room, clearly displeased at being caught out. “He doesn’t want me looking for Enola...And he’ll send her to boarding school once she’s found.” You shook your head, muttering, “Smarmy bastard,” Unable to help yourself. You had looked away, and didn’t see Sherlock’s slight smile at your curse. “She’d hate it there,” You added more loudly, “There’s no freedom, no way for you to be yourself. Mycroft may think that what he’s doing is for Enola’s own good, but... Being sent to one feels like a punishment.” “How would you know? You had a governess,” Sherlock grunted. You pursed your lips, nodding. “I did... Until my mother deemed me un-governable.” You felt the weight of Sherlock’s frown as it was turned on you in full force. “I didn’t know you were sent away,” He said. “Well, how would you? You never came back,” The bitterness and hurt seeped into your tone, unbidden. “You stopped writing,” Sherlock’s rebuttal spoken more harshly than you’d expected, and you turned to him with fire in your eyes. “You never answered,” You snapped. There was a knock at the door, and it only gave you two a second’s warning before Cornelius’ cheerful self popped inside.

“All well in here?” “Quite,” Sherlock answered brusquely. Both men went silent, waiting for your confirmation, but you never gave it, instead pretending to re-immerse yourself in the letters in your hands. Cornelius cleared his throat. “I hate to intrude, but we'll be having guests over for dinner this evening and I’m sure it’ll take my niece some time to get ready. Frills and frippery and all that.” You rolled your eyes, unable to help it. You’d had quite enough with men’s assumptions for one day. “I do hope you enjoy yourselves.” Sherlock’s tone was very flat, matter-of-fact, and you were almost certain he didn’t mean it. “Oh, you know how these things are. Business for the men, pleasure for the women,” Cornelius tutted, “Though Lord Dawson will be there and he and a certain someone seem to be quite keen on one another.” You scoffed quietly, tossing another letter onto the desk for the sake of throwing something. Lord Dawson was an egotistical bore, but a well-moneyed one, and someone that your mother was pressuring you to marry.

“I believe my brother has been meaning to become acquainted with Lord Dawson for some time,” Sherlock commented.

“Well, then you and Mycroft ought to join us for dinner this evening!” Cornelius offered. “No!” You said sharply. You froze, feeling both Sherlock and Cornelius turn their attention to you.

You turned your head to look at your uncle, lips pursed. “Mr. Holmes is in the middle of a case, he’ll be far too occupied to join us for dinner,” You glanced over at Sherlock, adding, “Won’t you.” Sherlock nodded. “Your niece is right, I am currently in the thick of a case,” He said, looking at Cornelius. You relaxed, turning back to the letters, satisfied...Until Sherlock continued, “But I will have to eat sometime, as will Mycroft. We’d be glad to join you.” Your hands tightened on the letters, fighting the urge to reach up and smack Sherlock over the head with the lot of them. “Splendid!” Cornelius grinned, “We will send a formal invitation around to your brother, of course.” “I will excuse myself, then, and give you all time to prepare,” Sherlock straightened from the desk. He turned back to you, leaning in and tapping a finger against your cheek with a murmur of, “Your jaw is clenched, dove.” You gave him your most murderous look, but he was already striding toward the door to bid your Uncle Cornelius a good day. Tag list: @run-through-wa11s ; @thefallenbibliophilequote ; @bitchy-witchy-post-mortem

#When We Were Young #Sherlock Holmes x Reader #Sherlock Holmes x You #Sherlock Holmes Imagine #Sherlock Holmes Henry Cavill #Sherlock Holmes/Reader #Sherlock Holmes/You

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fanfics4all · 4 years ago

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Unknown Weasley

Request: Yes / No Maybe a Draco Malfoy X Weasley Fem Reader..? Y/N got put into Slytherin (Ginny’s twin) and never really fit the Weasley stereotype. Her family kinda forgot/neglected her and favored Ginny. Then they find out Y/N is dating Draco and they flip and she lashes out at them. A LOT of angst please, tyyyyy 💚🖤 Anon

Requests are open <3 Have a nice day/night

Draco Malfoy x Fem!Weasley!Reader

Word count: 2317

Warnings: Kind of abuse in a way

Y/N: Your Name

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK!

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you!

Masterlist

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

When I watched my older brother’s go off to Hogwarts I was so jealous. They got to go off and not be stuck at home being forgotten. I was stuck home being overshadowed by my twin sister Ginny. She was the favorite of the family and everyone always forgot that I was even alive. It was horrible. But when the time finally came to go to Hogwarts I was so excited. This was going to be my time to no longer be forgotten. Ginny got called up before me and she was placed in Gryffindor like all of our family. Then I was called up and the hat was placed on my head.

“Another Weasley, but you’re different from the rest. Where to put you…” It thought for a moment.

“I know… Slytherin!” It shouted and my eyes widened. I looked at my family and they had the same shocked expression on their faces. I got off the stool and walked over to the Slytherin table with my head hung low. Some people at the table were whispering about me.

“Isn’t she a Weasley?”

“Shouldn’t she be put in Gryffindor like the rest of her pathetic family?”

“What is wrong with her?” I tried my best to ignore them, but I couldn’t. They were right. Great now my family will remember me, but as the disappointment…

The first year I just kept my head down and didn’t bother with anyone. It didn’t feel that much different than at home. Ginny had obviously told our parents that I was in Slytherin and they were so unhappy they didn’t want me coming home until school was over. When I got home, boy did I get an earful.

“How the bloody hell could you be a Slytherin!?” My Mother shouted.

“I didn’t choose to be in Slytherin!” I cried.

“I bet she did, she’s never been like us.” Ron said and I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Go to your room, no supper for you!” Mother shouted and I ran up the stairs. I got shoved into the attic and that’s been my room ever since. I threw myself onto my bed and cried my eyes out, until I fell asleep.

That’s how the summer went pretty much. My house would be brought up a few times a week and then I would be sent to my room with no food. I hated it. Everything just got so much worse and there was nothing I could do to fix it…

When it was time to return to Hogwarts I was shocked that my parents actually made an effort to remember to take me back. I walked onto the train and found an empty compartment. I decided that I would get a head start on studying and so I took out my old books and got to reading one. Everything was fine until the train started moving and someone opened the door to my compartment.

“What are you doing here?” The voice of Draco Malfoy filled my ears. I looked up to see the platinum blonde boy with silver eyes.

“Um, sitting and studying?” I answered with furrowed brows.

“Shouldn’t you be with your pathetic blood-traitor family?” He asked with a sneer and I rolled my eyes.

“No, they’re not happy with me.” I answered, looking back down to my book.

“Because you’ve ruined their perfect Gryffindor line?” He asked with a laugh.

“Yes actually, so unless you’re going to actually sit in here during the ride, I suggest you fuck off.” I answered without looking up from my book. There was silence and I heard the door close. What I wasn’t expecting was Draco sitting next to me. I glanced up and he was staring at me.

“Can I help you?” I asked.

“Your family is honestly upset with you because of the house you’re in?” He asked and I nodded with a sigh.

“Believe it or not this is the most attention I’ve gotten from them.” I said and his eyes wided.

“Really? I thought they loved all their children.” He said and I shook my head.

“No, well I don’t know if they don’t love me, but they certainly don’t like me.” I said.

“I know what that’s like…” He whispered.

“What?” I asked and he looked up at me.

“My Father is quite strict with me and honestly it seems like he doesn’t love me sometimes.” He answered. I closed my book and placed my hand on his.

“I’m sorry Draco, no one deserves that.” I said and to my shock he didn’t pull away.

“You don’t either.” He said and I smiled. For the first time in my life I felt happy and like I was seen. The whole train ride Draco and I kept talking about what we were interested in, what we were excited about this year, and about possibly going to Hogsmeade together. Draco even bought me a few of my favorite sweets. I was shocked that the person that was so mean to my family and their friends was being so kind to me. But we understood each other. We were each in similar situations and that seemed to be bonding us.

I thought that when we finally made it to Hogwarts Draco would go back to ignoring me and making fun of me like everyone else does, but to my surprise he didn’t. Draco actually pulled me to sit next to him and introduced me to some of his friends. They were shocked that him of all people was socializing with a Weasley, but he quickly shut them down. Lucky for me my family seemed to be ignoring what I was doing which meant my parents wouldn’t have another reason to be disappointed in me.

Throughout that year I started falling for Draco and when the trip to Hogsmeade came around Draco had actually asked if we could consider it a date instead. I obviously agreed and it was perfect. Draco was the perfect gentleman and insisted on buying me whatever I pleased. We first went into Dominic Maestro’s Music Shop and looked around. That’s where we each learned our music taste. Then we went to Honeydukes where Draco spoiled me with my favorite candies. Draco wanted to go into Spintwitches Sporting Needs and he got new gloves for Quidditch.

“Maybe you could come see the game against Gryffindor this Friday?” He asked and I smiled.

“I’d love to, only if you promise me that we’ll win.” I said with a smirk.

“Of course love, I’ll make sure to work extra hard for you.” He said and I blushed at the nickname he gave me.

“You’re cute when you blush.” He whispered and I blushed harder. He grabbed my hand as we exited the shop.

“Hungry?” He asked and I nodded, not trusting my voice just yet.

“How about The Three Broomsticks?” He asked.

“As long as we can get Butterbeer.” I said with a smirk.

“Whatever you want love.” He said and pulled me along with him. We each sat down and quickly ordered Butterbeers.

“What do you want, love?” He asked.

“Hmmm, I think I might order the shepherd’s pie.” I said looking over the menu.

“You have good taste.” He said with a smirk.

“Obviously.” I said and flipped my hair with a giggle. He chuckled and moved closer to me.

“You are so beautiful.” He said and I blushed hard.

“Would you do me the pleasure of being my girlfriend?” He asked and I stared at him in shock.

“Y-You want me to be your girlfriend? But you could have literally any girl in Hogwarts!” I said and he chuckled.

“And you’re the one I want.” He said and I smiled. Out of all the girls in Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy wants me.

“Then I would love to.” I said. Draco’s smile widened and he placed his arm around my shoulder. Our Butterbeers arrived and we each ordered.

The date went perfect and Draco didn’t want to be shy about our new relationship. He wanted everyone to know that I was now his girl, but I was worried about my family. I convinced him to keep it a secret, but he definitely took risks. When we had off periods together he would pull me into an empty hallway and kiss me wherever he could.

“Draco we’re gonna get caught one day!” I whispered.

“And today won’t be that day, trust me love.” He said and went back to kissing my neck. I bit my lip to hold back a moan and he smirked against my skin.

“Y/N? What in Merlin!?” I heard my sister shout and my eyes widened. I pushed Draco off and we both stared at her.

“Um… I-” I didn’t know what to say.

“What are you doing to my sister?” She growled at Draco. He looked at me and I was just standing there in shock.

“If you must know, I’m kissing my girlfriend.” He answered and pulled me closer to him.

“What?” She growled, this time looking at me.

“You’re dating this git!” She shouted.

“He’s not a git!” I said snapping out of my shock.

“Have you gone mad?” She asked.

“No, I’m perfectly sane! Just go on and tell the family about it already.” I said and turned my back to her.

“Unbelievable…” I heard her say under her breath as she walked off.

“Are you alright, love?” Draco asked and placed his hand on my arm.

“I’m fine… They were bound to find out anyway…” I said quietly, but I could feel tears pooling in my eyes.

“Hey, I know you’re hurt.” He said, walking in front of me and lifted my chin up.

“It’s alright, love, I’ll be here for you always.” He said and pulled me into his chest.

“I love you Y/N.” He whispered and I clung to him.

“I love you too Draco.” I said.

Throughout the rest of the year Draco and I had become public with our relationship. My brothers and sister sent glares my way and refused to even speak one word to me. Draco was always trying to take my mind off it and keep the smile he gave me on my face. But when it was time to go back home Draco tried to convince me to come home with him. I told him I couldn’t and that I needed to face this. So when my parents picked us up it was dead silent. But as soon as we all entered the house my parents turned to me with the worst expression they’ve ever given me.

“You are dating Draco Malfoy?” My Father asked.

“Yes.” I answered.

“Are you mad? His family is evil!” My Mother said.

“But-”

“This is unbelievable, our sister is dating the biggest git in the school!” George said.

“Maybe he spelled her.” Fred said.

“With the way I found them, she was most definitely not spelled.” Ginny said.

“Honestly, after everything he’s said and done to us and you still picked to date him?”

“Stop it!” I shouted and everyone looked at me.

“Stop talking about him like that! Draco has been nothing but a gentleman to me! He’s been better to me in this short time than any of you have ever been to me! For the first time in my life I don’t feel like I’m not good enough, or like no one can see me! Draco is the first person to actually see me for me and not just another Weasley! He makes me feel special and like I’m not just in the background!” I shouted and all they did was stare at me. I didn’t wait for their response. I stormed out of the house and ran. Draco had gotten me a ticket for the tub in case I needed to come see him. That’s exactly what I did. I ran up to the large door of Malfoy Manor. I knocked on the door and a house-elf answered.

“How can I help you Miss?” He asked.

“Is Draco Malfoy here?” I asked as I fiddled with my hands.

“Yes, let me go get the Master.” He said and let me inside. I stood in the foyer and awkwardly waited for Draco to appear.

“Y/N?” Draco asked and I looked up at the top of the stairs.

“Are you alright?” He asked, rushing down.

“I’m fine, but I had a fight with my family…” I said. He pulled me to him and kissed my head.

“I’m sorry, love.” He whispered. Tears started falling and I didn’t even know I was holding them back.

“You can stay here, my Father can have people get your things.” He said.

“Are you sure they’ll be alright with me staying here?” I asked and he smiled.

“You’re a Pure-blood so I’m sure they’ll be happy with that.” He answered and I cracked a smile.

“Come, let me introduce you.” He said and pulled me through his house.

“Draco, who was at the door?” His Mother asked without looking up from her book.

“My girlfriend.” He answered and both his parents moved their attention to us.

“A Weasley?” His Father said.

“This is Y/N Weasley, her and her family had a fight because she’s in Slytherin and dating me.” He said and they both raised their brows.

“You were placed in Slytherin?” His Father asked.

“Yes sir, my family was very unhappy with me.” I answered.

“You poor dear.” His Mother said.

“Can she stay with us this summer?” Draco asked.

“A Weas-”

“Of course dear, but she stays in one of the guests rooms.” His Mother answered, cutting off her husband.

“Thank you. Come on Y/N, I’ll show you to your room.” Draco said with a smile and pulled me along. Maybe this will also be the first good summer I have.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs @schisbro87 @lover-of-books-and-teas @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches2 @genius2050 @drw0301bieber @softgamerking @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @in-slytherin-we-trust @dracoswhvre

#harry potter imagine #draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco x fem!reader #draco malfoy x fem!reader #draco x weasley!reader #draco malfoy x weasley!reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco x slytherin!reader #draco malfoy x slytherin!reader #slytherin!reader #fanfic #request #slytherin

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the-thot-clown · 4 years ago

Note

May I ask that you talk about the character designs you love, please? 👀

(inhales)

‘aight, this is going to be long so

ok the first one and my favorite one is Bubba.

Among all the slashers Bubba is the one with the lightest colors, including his main mask which is a faded yellow that fits very well with the pale pink of his shirt and bright yellow apron. Even his tie complements well by cutting out warm colors with a three-tone blue. Along with his dark blue jeans and black cowboy boots. They are soft colors and shapes and he himself is very neat (my boy is really there working with a shirt and tie, what a gentleman) which is a reflection of his personality in general. He is very distinctive and appealing to the eye, even in dark scenes you can fully distinguish him.

I don't talk much about his clothing when he uses the old woman's mask since, apart from the change of face, only another apron is added. But with the pretty woman mask it is something else. I can't express how much I love that they decided to put him in a dark suit, other than that it's because Bubba wanted to look good for dinner, it's also a nice change of tones that goes with how the dinner scene is the darkest part of the movie thematically speaking. Also that the mask with makeup serves as a focal point following the neckline, and of course using the blue tie to add color to the whole outfit but still being a cool color making the red and pink makeup of the mask stand out more. I love it 10/10

Another one is Jason from part 3, 4 and 6. I love the shirt in that shade of green along with the light pants, it is thematically coherent, simple, the colors go well with the place where the film takes place, it helps the mask stand out more and is recognizable to the naked eye. While Jason from part 2 is also one of my favorites with all the blue tones and the white bag on his head he isn’t as iconic (since he looks a lot like the murderer of The Town That Dreaded Sundown). 9/10 for mama’s boy.

Michael and Ghostface are in the same place for me, both outfits are minimalist, dark and with a white mask as a focal point, Ghostface has one more point for me because it adds texture to his suit since the fabric is shiny and it shows that it is rough. Both masks despite having the same intention of being the focal point, both are in the two opposites if we talk about expressions, one being exaggerated and the other that does not express anything. 9/10

And now that I’m talking about them, something that bothers me a bit about the remake/reboot and secuels versions of the 2000 movies is how they decided to remove all the colors from the clothes of some slashers, I love Thomas and FvJ Jason as well as RZ Michael but it is very sad how they decided to go for outfits that are practically unrecognizable on screen, adding that the movies themselves are very dark and you can hardly tell anything from what is happening. Even the masks, the’ve become more dirty and almost irreconocible.

Everything looks washed out, brown and dirty.

Ok back to the favorites.

Another one, Babyface (The Hills Run Red) Good neutral colors, gray shirt and beige pants but cut by the red color that helps to connect everything in general, it also makes the attention focus on him and the decorations on his neck, great mask design, it's scary, It is grotesque but without becoming deformed, you can differentiate the parts of the mask and more than once they make closeups to show it even in the light. Very good work 8/10.

Ok at first I wasn't a big fan of Brahms clothes (mostly because you can barely see it) but it's a nice outfit, the gray-blue cardigan really complements the brown pants, the white shirt also helps to be a point focal and separate it from the dark in conjunction with the mask (the mask being surrounded by dark hair and the beard also helps it stand out more) it is simple, just a doll face but it is a nice addition. It is comfortable and it is in character and according to the situation. I love the suspenders, you classy fucker. 6/10

One of my favorite of all time, Tiffany, MAN I LOVE THIS the puffy hair, the eye color, the makeup, the leather jacket over the wedding dress oh my god i love her. Is simple yet iconic 10/10

Is sad what they did to her hair later tho.

Now the bitch himself, The shape and colors are instantly recognizable, the brown hat goes well with the colors of the sweater, this being the focal point of the whole outfit, I like the idea of the glove and since its entire face is burned separates it from the others slashers who always wear masks. bitch/10

The cenobites, over all iconic, love the goth bitches 10/10

Vincent Sinclair (since it is the one that stands out the most in the wardrobe part of the three brothers) I can’t see shit. Man that movie sure doesn’t want us to see him but for I can see he’s nice, love the sweater, I like the idea of his mask being made of wax, love the hair. 6/10

The two Pennywises: Both are good. Stop making these queens fight eachother. While 2017 Pennywise has his face as the focal point and his hair the other IS the focal point, both suits are useful for attracting or hunting prey in their own way, both are good and both have things of the Pennywise from the book. 8/10

Candyman. The man, the legend.The presence, the coat, the color palette, the pants, the tie, the fluffy details. Everything, I absolutely love everything about the design. 10/10

Honorable mentions:

Lucille Sharpe: I love the red dress but this dress holy shit

Chop Top: Yeah I’ve said it. Man has style and I love that you can say a lot just by looking at him. That’s nice.

Billy Lenz: I know we can only see little things about his clothes, just his light blue oxford pants and his black turtleneck shirt (yeah it’s black but i like the green sweater too) but I just can imagine him with the 70′s clothes and I just loose my shit.

so that’s it, I have some more but this is already too long.

#about the clown #Anonymous

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bluebellwriting · 4 years ago

Text

Love Me Tender Part 6

Hey folks! I know it’s been a minute, I’ve been super busy with work and school, but I’m by no means done with this piece and you know I had to post something for Valentine’s Day (to make up for the fact that single and lonely 😆😭)

Despite popular belief, Hell does in fact freeze over. It’s Hell, after all, and in the world of pain and torture, everything is fair game. And it’s February, historically one of the coldest months for you back when you were living and certainly the most miserable in Hell too. The roads are slick with sheets of ice, you can’t walk a block without a three-foot icicle nearly spearing itself through you, and everyone’s car is perpetually trapped in a snowbank thanks to Lucifer’s “generous snow plow program.” Each winter day reminds you of the worst snow cyclones from when you were growing up in Brooklyn, cold yes, but in a way it’s all very sentimental. They remind you of the winter nights cuddled up with your siblings, hot chocolate in hand, listening to the winds blustering against your windows. It’s all rather lovely, in a strange way.

Your boyfriend of four months does not seem to agree, if the way he’s gripping you and nuzzling into your neck is anything to go by. You’ve been trying to extricate yourself from your practically shared bed for the last ten minutes, but each attempt only causes Alastor to pull you closer. He’s basically on top of you now, those boney forearms are stronger than you’d think.

“Sweetheart,” you whisper. “It’s time to get up.”

Alastor groans but otherwise your voice falls on deaf ears.

“Come on, we have to make breakfast and then--”

“But darling, it’s freezing,” he sighs. “And why would I go anywhere when I have my own personal heater right here.”

It’s really hard to stay mad at him, especially when he places sweet little kisses from your cheek to your shoulder and back again.

“Well your personal heater has some errands to run and needs to get her day started.”

“Ugh,” Alastor whines and inch by inch, begins to roll off of you. “How can you even stand to be out in that unbearable cold? Don’t you want to stay right here with me, your loving and adoring boyfriend?”

“You know I would,” you boop his nose. “But then I wouldn’t be able to get your present.”

His ears perk up immediately.

“Present?” He coos. “A present for lil’ ol’ me? Dearest, you shouldn’t have.”

“Yes, but I can’t pick it up until I get out of this bed.”

“Oh fine. I suppose I have some things to do for tonight as well,” he teases and kisses you on the nose before finally allowing you to shift out of bed.

“Although before you leave me,” he whines. “I have a little something to kick off the festivities.”

With a snap of his fingers, a red garment manifests in your arms.

“Oh, Alastor.” You run your hands over the thick velvet of the dress. “It’s lovely.”

“This is just the beginning, love. Now go try it on,” he shoos you off to the bathroom, then immediately curls back up into the comforter to protect himself from the draft leaking in from your window.

The dress is beautiful and warm. As soon as you change into it and assess yourself in the bathroom mirror it hits you that this has to be a customized dress. It fits you far too perfectly and the fabric is so soft, it’s like a blanket heating you up and snuggling you in. It’s either custom or enchanted with Alastor’s magic. Or maybe both, you wouldn’t put it past him to make this the perfect dress.

The last four months together have been a dream. A blissful and rapturous dream that you never want to wake up from. If you thought he was sweet before you began dating, then this is an entirely new level. You two are practically glued to the hip, and he finds a way to make every possible moment so enthralling and exciting that it doesn’t even matter.

Everything about him is just enthralling, and the best part is that he can’t seem to get enough of you either. It makes your face warm and your mouth split into a grin just thinking about it.

You poke your head out of the bathroom door and giggle at the sight of Alastor in his own personal blanket cocoon.

“Comfortable?” You ask.

“I’d be more comfortable if you were here with me.”

“While that sounds tempting, I wouldn’t want to ruin my fabulous new dress.”

He shoots up, blanket still around his shoulders, eyes wide and alert and trained on the way the bodice clings to your curves. It’s even more perfect than he could have expected.

“Do you like it?” He scoots to the edge of the bed and holds his arms out for you to step into.

“I love it.” You smile and step between his legs to fall into his embrace. “It’s perfect. Thank you, my love.”

“That’s just the beginning, dear,” he cheers.

“Alastor, you didn’t--”

“Nonsense! It’s our first Valentine’s together and it must be the best of all time!” Ever one for theatrics, with a flourish of his arm the room is filled with red roses.

“Oh my goodness,” you giggle and cup his face in your hands. “You darling man.”

Alastor melts into your hands, letting the softness of your palms warm his cheeks.

“Only for you, love.” He leans forward and nuzzles your nose. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, dear.”

If you weren’t worried about getting to the store and back in time, you would have stayed here, exactly like this, for hours more.

“Let’s begin the day, shall we, love?” You whisper.

“But it’s cold!” He whines. “And you’re so warm!”

“Ugh, you’re such a southern boy,” you tease and pull away from him, if only to draw him out of his blanket nest and into the world.

“You love this southern boy,” he laughs and finally rises. With a quick snap, he’s dressed in a redder-than-average suit with one of the red roses on your floor now pinned to his lapel.

He hands you your coat, gloves, hat, scarf, and tries to force another sweater upon you but you stop him before you’re a complete bundle of wool and layers.

---

Charlie must have gotten up early because the entire lobby is littered with hearts and confetti. Chocolates are on every available surface and your fearless leader is currently snuggling with Vaggie in matching heart sweaters. You watch Angel hand Husk a box of chocolates wrapped in a lovely bow. Hesitantly, Husk opens the box and spits out whatever he was drinking all over your brother before stomping away with a red face.

“What did you do to that poor man?” You call over.

“Just gave him an innocent token of my affections,” Angel chimes and shows you the contents of the box: three rows of chocolates with letters printed on each piece, spelling out “Best Dick Ever.”

“Angel, that is so vulgar,” you exclaim.

“It’s the day of love, sis.” Angel pops one of the pieces into his mouth.

“That is not love, my fellow,” Alastor chastises.

“Aww, that’s cute coming from you, strawberry pimp.”

“I’ll have you know that I am plenty romantic,” Alastor says incredulously. “Aren’t I, (Y/N)?”

“You are, love. The most romantic,” you coo. “Now I have to get going. Please be nice, boys.”

“And you,” Alastor leans down to pull your scarf tighter around you, “promise me that you will be careful. You’re sure I can’t come with you?”

“I’m sure, love. I’ll be fine. Angel,” you turn to him. “Be nice.”

“’K, mom,” he calls back to you, waving as you begin your journey into the chilly winds.

“So,” Angel drawls, sidling up to Alastor. “What are you doing for my sister on this ever most sacred day of love and affection?”

“Something special and perfect and I will not have you distracting me,” Alastor sighs and snaps his fingers, transporting himself to his cottage deep in the woods of the Pentagram. Because only a crazy person would want to walk out in that cold. Good thing Alastor loves your kind of crazy.

---

It’s been a while since Alastor has been to his home, his actual home, one that is reminiscent of the large, Queen Anne-style homes of New Orleans. Dust is collecting on the counters and window sills, but that’s nothing that some quick magic can’t fix. The real task at hand is the redecorating and the meal he has to prepare for tonight to be as perfect as can be. This is certainly not the first time that you’ve been to his home but he’s hoping that it will be the last time that he calls it “his home.”

If he had it his way, tonight would be the night that Alastor asked you to marry him, to spend the rest of eternity -- or as long as you’d have him at least -- together in Hell as husband and wife, as partners in crime until the very fabric of the universe began to fray at the seams. He’s known for so long, long before you began your courtship, that he wanted to marry you and it took everything within him not to propose to you on your first date. But he had to be patient, suave, a perfect gentleman, because the last thing he wanted to do was scare you off with a hasty courtship and engagement. The last man who had attempted that with you, well, Alastor was still in the process of hunting him down so he could offer you his head on a spit. That was supposed to be the second part of your Valentine’s gift but alas, the wretched soul was more slippery than he had anticipated.

Hopefully you’d be impressed enough by the way he had decorated the house with some of your favorite colors and furniture from the 1940s, things to make it look more like a home you could share and grow into.

---

The beauty about Hell in the wintertime is that there are so few people out on the streets to bother you. The sidewalks and roads are eerily quiet, the snow swallowing up distant sounds so the only ones left is the crunch of your boots. Your trip to Rosie’s had been quick, as the poor woman was overrun with sinners trying to buy up last-minute Valentine’s gifts. As she said to you in passing while gift wrapping some tacky jewelry for a panicked demoness, “good for business, bad for relationships.”

You clutched your gift bag close to your chest, guarding it from any muggers who would even dare steal the most perfect gift for your Alastor. This was weeks in the making and you were not about to let someone ruin your first good Valentine’s Day.

You approached the door to the hotel, already anticipating a warm fire to warm your cheeks and nose, when suddenly an arm is around you and you’re no longer in front of the hotel. No, after blinking your eyes to readjust, you’re now staring at Alastor’s home, which means the arm and body hugging you close belongs to your sweet, adoring, and sometimes startling beau.

“Alastor!” You squeal. “What have I told you about surprising me like that?”

“I’m sorry, love,” he chuckles. “But I just couldn’t have you out in the cold any longer.”

“If this wasn’t a day dedicated to love you’d be buried in snow right now,” you grumble.

“I don’t doubt that, sweetest. Now come on, the fire is waiting for you.”

When Alastor first brought you into his home it was your one-month anniversary. You were actually relieved when it wasn’t a massive mansion like most Overlords pick for themselves, and you couldn’t help but be charmed by the perfectly retro, 1920s decor.

But it’s different now. The living room has new, floral wallpaper and some of the furniture reminds you of... your old home back in New York.

“You redecorated,” you shiver as you allow the warmth of the home heat up your body. Alastor rubs his hands up and down your shoulders to warm you up as soon as your coat and layers have been shed.

“Do you like it?” He asks, a glimmer of hope igniting in his eyes.

“Oh it’s lovely,” you breathe and inhale, smelling the hot meal he’s probably slaved over. “Just surprising. What brought this on?”

“Oh, just, wanted to try something new. Are you ready for dinner?”

“I’ve been salivating since I first stepped into the door.”

Dinner is delicious, mouth wateringly incredible and cajun. But all throughout dinner you couldn’t help but notice the way Alastor’s knee bounced or the way his hand shook whenever he held his fork to his mouth. Not to mention the eery quiet between you two. You can’t seem to get more than a one-word response out of him. It makes your heart drop, and the way his eyes shift away from your gaze makes a pit form in your stomach.

“Alastor, love. Is everything alright?”

His eyes dart up to meet yours. His teeth worry his bottom lip and you can hear his fingers tapping excessively on his seat.

“Of course, darling. Everything is right as rain. Are you enjoying your food?”

“It’s amazing, Al. It’s always amazing.” You beam at him and reach across the table to hold on to his hand.

“If you don’t have any more delightful surprises for me, love, could I give you my gift now?”

“(Y/N) you didn’t--”

“I won’t even dignify that with a response.”

Reaching down beside your chair, you pull out the perfectly wrapped present and slide it across the table to him.

“It’s not much,” you explain. “But I hope you like it.”

It’s perfect. So perfect, the wrapping, the bow, the very idea that his darling has given him a gift at all, that he doesn’t even want to open it. As much as he wants to tear it open, there’s the urge to keep this moment preserved in his mind forever and ever, just in case his present to you goes south tonight.

But from the way you’re looking at him, eyes wide and hopeful, he knows he has to open it right now.

Inside is a little plastic... view finder? He’s really never seen anything like this. They look like binoculars but there’s a little white disk inside with small film negatives along the circumference.

“It’s a reel viewer,” you explain. “Put it up to your eyes and click the lever.”

So he does. And with each click he’s met with little candids of you and him, some from before your relationship began, some from after, all of them more perfect than the last and preserved forever just for him. His heart swells and warms an overwhelming amount. His joy leaks from his mouth and eyes, until it feels like the sun itself is pouring through his teeth and tears.

“Oh, (Y/N), darling...” he sniffles.

“I know it’s not much but--”

“It’s everything, dearest.” It really is. And more importantly it’s enough for him to get his act together. He feels like he can breathe again, like the fog of doubt has finally been lifted. What was he so worried about? You love him, of course, you love him.

“It’s perfect.” He rises and comes to kneel before you. “More lovely and wonderful than you will ever know. So much better than my gift to you but I hope you will love it all the same. I love it, (Y/N). I love you. So, so very much, dearest.”

“Alastor, I’m going to love anything you give me because I love you, sweetheart.” You peck his nose.

“Yes, well, that’s the thing. Because really, this feels more like just another gift from you to me.”

“Is it now?” You tease.

“It is...” he sighs. “I love you. I hope you never have to doubt that for an instant in your life. And I know this might be too soon, and you can say no for now, or forever, but I have never doubted for a minute that you are the one for me. My gift to you, love, sweetheart, darling dearest, is this.”

He motions to the dining room.

“The... dining room?”

“No, love,” he chuckles. “The house. My house... Our house. If you’ll have it. If you’ll have me.”

You gasp and tears flood your eyes so quickly that you have to blink them away to see Alastor’s hopeful eyes properly.

“You’re asking me to move in with you?”

“I am. I’m asking you to make this house, our home.”

“Oh, Alastor.” You launch forward and wrap your arms around his neck. You press your lips to his in a bruising kiss, letting him bundle you up in his own arms and grip your waist.

You pull way for a brief moment, short enough to mumble out a fervent series of ‘yeses.’

“Of course,” you say between kisses to his face. “Of course, I’ll move in with you.”

#alastor x reader #alastor x Chubby!reader #alastor #hazbin hotel #valentine's day #they say write the stories you want to see

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mah-gah-lee · 4 years ago

Text

walking in the snow and getting knocked by a dog - owen joyner x female reader

GIF ORIGINALLY POSTED BY @lukefromsunsetcurve

Word Count: 1481 words

Summary: You were on your aunt’s house for holiday. When you went for a walk, you didn’t expect meeting a charming man and his dogs.

Warnings: fluffy

A/N: Okay, that’s my first Owen x female reader, again, don’t forget English is not my first langage. Hope you’ll enjoy

disclaimer: I don't know Owen personally or what his life is like. All you will read in this "x reader" is from my imagination. My point is not to invade Owen's privacy. I don't want to offend him or offend anybody else in his life (family, potential girlfriend…I heard maybe he has one, so I don’t know but I don’t want to offend her). All of this is not the reality

Tagged: @asdfghjkl-fanfics @standingtalllove

______

You had been at your aunt's house for two days now and you couldn't be more bored than now. Being in Oklahoma was the worst. You didn't want to come there but, family traditions are everything, you've always been okay with that. So, every year your whole family gets together in someone's place, you change houses every year. This time you were supposed to go to your mother's sister and a few months ago she had moved to Norman, Oklahoma for work.

You were in your cousin’s room and there was nothing to do. You were the older child of the family, almost an adult, and even if you get along well with your cousin, being 5 years apart really made a difference. You grabbed your laptop to browse the different Netflix shows to watch but nothing really tempted you. You sighed heavily in exasperation then your gaze shifted to the window. It was snowing and you loved the snow.

“look (y/c/n), it’s snowing! You want to go for a walk?”

“hell no, I hate being cold”

You frowned your eyebrows and jumped on your own two feet, determined to go out in this weather. You opened your suitcase and looked for a warmer sweater and an extra pair of socks. When you came down to the hall, your mother was looking at you.

"What are you doing?"

"I'll take a walk around the neighborhood."

"Make sure you have your phone if you ever get lost."

"Mom, I'm twenty years old and I'm not going very far" you replied, rolling your eyes.

You put on the perfect winter outfit: warm coat, hat, scarf and gloves and then you went out, checking that your phone still had enough battery. The cold hit your cheeks but that didn't stop you from smiling to the fullest. You loved this feeling. You buried your hands in your pockets and started walking around the neighborhood. You must have been about two blocks away when you noticed three people down the street. You scowled a little at the sight of the two Rottweilers. You knew that the breed did not make the character of the dog but you had apprehension about all the dogs that you met. When you were little, you got bitten by a Cavalier King Charles spaniel. So, even if the dogs were big, small, the muzzle flattened or not, you had always been a little scared.

You walked a few steps trying to avoid them. Unfortunately, you saw a blond make a video calling one of the dogs. And even though the couple who accompanied the young man, held the second dog on a leash, the grip released easily and the dog escaped, running in excitement towards his companion. In the heat of the moment, the dog got tangled in your paws and you fell backwards in a pile of snow.

“Jesus”

The second dog felt your face very quickly, giving you a light lick before leaving immediately, called by its owners. You stood for what seemed like several seconds on the ground, stunned. And when you blinked you saw the blond young man leaning over your face. He was holding back the dog he had called as best he could.

"Are you alright?"

"I think your dog just struck a strike and busted my head"

A slight laugh escaped the blonde's lips and he reached out his hand to help you up.

"Sorry about that, they're very nice but a little excited. I'm Owen ..."

"Nice to meet you, Owen"

You dusted off the rest of the snow still clinging to your pants as the young man stared at you.

"Sooo, what's your name? Where do you live and how many fingers do I have?"

He asked you, showing you 3 fingers directly on your face. You have squared your eyes a little against the proximity of his hand in front of your eyes. It was quite spontaneous as a gesture.

"I'm (y / n) it's none of your business and you have 3 fingers...and that's a stupid question because every fucking time people show you 3 fingers"

His laughter is freed and you take the time to detail it a little. How did he manage not to be cold with a simple sweater and a pink beanie?

"Okay you're pretty straightforward and pretty funny. In my defense, I was checking that you didn't have a concussion"

"asking me for information you don't know?" you joked

"heyyy, I knew I had three fingers"

You burst out laughing and then jumped when you felt something cold through your jeans. Your gaze fell on the dog sniffing your leg.

"Bindi won't do anything to you. She's just ... getting to know you."

You were a little tense but obviously, the dog seemed harmless, you tried a new note of humor

"As long as she doesn’t try to get to know me like her sidekick did."

You gave a nudge in the direction of the couple who were moving away with the second dog, you gave them a smile which they returned to you without hesitation. Owen smiled and gave you a mischievous look.

"It's a tactic like any other for meeting pretty girls."

You blushed at the compliment, the boy seemed so pleasant to live with, lively and with a lot of humor. You could hear it just by the sound of his voice that's why you didn't hold back from playing his game.

"Oh great approach. Let your dog run over a girl, right in front of your parents. What a gentleman! I'm in love" you finished your dozing by dramatically fluttering your eyelashes.

He smiled at you again, running his tongue over your lower lip. Your eyes were hypnotized by the gesture. Owen had a frank, bright smile so sincere you felt your heart leap in your chest. This man was really lovely.

"Can I offer you a hot chocolate to apologize for this rather hectic meeting"

You tilted your head over your boots, suddenly finding your shoes very interesting. You wanted to say yes to him and go with him for that hot chocolate. But you didn't know him, or barely. You bit your lower lip, giving him a sorry look.

"Maybe next time. I'm soaked ... But ... maybe you can take me back to my aunt's place?"

You couldn't help but notice the slightly disappointed look he gave you, but he agreed. You started to walk towards the house as Owen stood beside you. Silence had fallen for several minutes when you glanced discreetly at Owen ... and he also did when you weren't looking.

Owen was tall, quite well built and you kept thinking about his smile and the way his eyes narrowed every time he laughed. He was really, really charming, but you didn't know how to act around him. After all, he was a complete stranger.

"So where are you from?"

"Chicago. I'm here for the holidays. How about you, have you always lived here?"

"Until last year, yes. I lived in Vancouver for a while and ... I am moving to my own apartment soon"

Your eyes widened in admiration when he mentioned Vancouver and you blinked.

"You went to live in Canada ... How awesome it must have been. I love Canada!"

Owen laughed and pursed his lips, forcing himself not to smile even though the attempt was in vain.

"Oh my god, it sounds like Charlie"

You frowned, not knowing if you should know who this Charlie was. You suddenly felt outside the conversation.

"Oh ... Charlie is my old roommate ... He's Canadian and ... he loves his country."

You gave him a knowing look and nodded. You could only agree with this Charlie. Canada seemed like such an amazing country. You arrived far too quickly in the street where your aunt's house was and you winced in disappointment.

"My aunt lives on this street."

Owen nodded and walked with you to the threshold. Binda sat down at his feet, quietly as the blond scratched the back of his head.

"Can we ... can we just keep in touch and have that hot chocolate one of these days?"

You gave him a shy smile, and nodded as Owen struggled to pull out his phone and type in your number when you gave it to him. When he put his phone back in his pocket, you gave him a soft look and walked over to him, placing a spontaneous kiss on his cheek. Without realizing it and very naturally, you caressed Bindi's head with a smile.

"Bye Owen. Bye Bindi. See you one of these days for that hot chocolate."

You then walked back into the house, closing the door behind you, leaving a rosy-cheeked Owen as his dog gasped in excitement.

"What do you say Bindi? She looks pretty cool, doesn't she?"

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #owen patrick joyner #owen joyner #owen joyner x reader #owen patrick joyner x reader #jatp fic #jatp imagines

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