#but i couldn't figure out where to fit it in

[inkedinshadows]

First of all congratulations for 1000 followers 🎊🎉🎊🎉🎊🎉 it’s honestly amazing and you deserve all the best❤️❤️❤️ also happy new year 🎆🎆🎆 secondly, all the prompts are super good it, I had such a hard time choosing from them cause they that are all amazing, anyway I think 19, 20 and 21 just fit together perfectly for an angsty Azriel fic.

Broken Vows

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader

A/N: thank you so much anon, you're the sweetest! <33 And happy new year one month too late oopsie 🤭

Prompts: "I trusted you." + "Don't leave me now. Please. I still need you." + "Baby, please, just look at me."

Warnings: Az is not the best partner here (I promise he didn't cheat)

Word count: 1.3k

It must be a dream. A nightmare.

Whatever was happening, it wasn't real. It couldn't be. You refused to believe it.

Azriel was still talking, but you weren't listening anymore. His words blurred together in your mind, yet his first few sentences remained sharp, playing over and over in your head.

I've found my mate.

You had never been the jealous type, so it hadn't bothered you when he began spending more and more time with Madja’s new apprentice. It had started as small talk after her visits and you usually lingered too. Talya seemed nice enough—quiet and reserved yet friendly.

You hadn't questioned it when Azriel started visiting the apothecary for even the slightest headache. But then those visits became too frequent. He went there even when both of you felt perfectly fine.

You should have realized something was off when Azriel became distant. The signs had been there. You had just been too blind to see them.

But the problem wasn't that he had found his mate, was it?

I want to be with her.

A few simple words, and the whole world collapsed around you.

“Baby, please, just look at me.” His voice finally cut through your thoughts. “I know this is hard to hear, but let me—”

“You promised,” you interrupted him. Your eyes met his from where he sat at the other end of the couch.

“Baby…” he began, but you cut him off again.

“You promised,” you repeated, your voice rising as tears pricked your eyes. “You promised!”

Guilt flashed across Azriel's face, and he at least had the decency to remain silent as you pressed on.

“You said you'd reject your mate for me, Az,” you blurted out. Hot, angry tears rolled down your cheeks, but you barely noticed. “It was in your wedding vows, for gods’ sake!”

Azriel shook his head. “It's not that simple. I don't—”

“Isn't it?” you interrupted again. “Because it seems simple enough to me. You just reject the bond, like I did.”

His expression immediately hardened. “I don't want to reject the bond. If you would only let—”

“Why wouldn't you want to reject it?” you demanded.

“Because she's my mate!”

“And I'm your wife!”

For a moment, you just glared at each other. His shadows swarmed nervously around his wings, but then his shoulders slumped and his expression softened slightly.

“Can you let me explain?” he asked, studying you. “Please.”

With a sigh, you wiped your cheeks before crossing your arms over your chest. You simply looked at him, waiting.

“I don't want to lose you, baby,” he said softly.

“I don't see how that is going—”

Azriel stopped you mid-sentence. “Let me finish? Please?”

You rolled your eyes but gestured for him to continue. Listening to him was the last thing you wanted right now, but maybe he was going to surprise you. Maybe he was going to say it was all just a joke, a prank, and you'd be mad, but it would be fine.

You were grasping at straws, and you knew it.

“I still want to be with you,” Azriel said. He shot you a sharp look when you opened your mouth, and you sank back against the couch to let him continue. “But I also want to explore this bond with her.”

You scoffed. “So what? You think you can have both of us?” You shook your head, something vicious twisting in your gut. “That's not going to work, Azriel.”

You rose from your seat to head upstairs. You needed time to think, to figure out what to do. If you stayed, you would only get angrier. You had already cried and had no desire to do it again. But if you left, maybe you could spare yourself the fury.

Though the pain—the ache in your heart—could not be avoided, no matter what you did.

“Talya said that she understands the situation and she'd be willing to—”

You froze on the spot. Azriel must have realized he'd said the wrong thing because he didn't finish the sentence. His eyes dropped to your clenched fists as you turned back to face him.

Your restraint was gone. You wouldn't hold back now.

“You talked to her before you talked to me?” you seethed.

“Well, I…” Azriel seemed to be grasping for words. “She's my mate,” he repeated, as if that was explanation enough.

“And I'm your wife!” You threw your hands up. “I have been for the last two centuries!”

“I'm sorry, baby, but I—”

“Don't you ‘baby’ me, Azriel!”

He lowered his gaze, but you were too upset to care about the hurt look in his eyes. It was nowhere close to the heartache he was causing you.

“You know why I never worried about you finding your mate?” you asked. He looked up at you, but even if he had planned on saying something, you didn't give him time. “Because you promised you'd choose me. You promised you would reject the bond. And I believed it, believed you. I trusted you.”

You were well aware of what rejecting a mating bond felt like, how difficult it could be to deal with. Even without feelings involved, even knowing that you and your mate wouldn't have been a good match, it had still taken you two weeks to feel whole again. But Azriel had been there, filling the empty spot where your bond had been with his love.

You had never regretted your choice. You never had a reason to.

“And now I find out that not only did you spend time with her knowing she was your mate,” you went on, “but that you also want to be her?”

Azriel’s voice was firm, edged with frustration. “I told you I want to be with you too, didn’t I?”

“Mother above, Azriel,” you snapped. “You think that makes me feel better? I trusted you, but you didn't even try.”

You had fought before. After two hundred years together, arguments were inevitable. But you usually talked it out and reconciled after a few hours—a day at worst. Maybe that was why Azriel didn't look particularly concerned.

Until you slipped the wedding band off your finger and tossed it onto the couch beside him.

His eyes widened in shock, and his usually restless shadows stilled behind him. You both stared at the ring, the silence stretching as your anger faded, leaving behind only a broken heart.

“You can't have your cake and eat it too, Az,” you finally said, your voice calmer now, resigned.

You turned on your heel again.

“I'm leaving,” you announced, already walking toward the stairs. You could go stay with your parents. They would welcome you without pressing for an explanation.

Azriel snapped out of his stupor and stood, reaching for you.

“Don’t leave me now. Please. I still need you.” His fingers closed around your wrist. “I still love you.”

You yanked your arm free, but didn't turn to face him. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him as you bit out, “You should have loved me enough not to pursue your mate. You promised.”

He tried to stop you again, his shadows swirling around your legs as if to keep you from walking away from their master.

“Baby, that's not—”

You turned back one last time. Tears lined your eyes and your voice broke on the words. “I should have been enough, Azriel.”

You didn't wait to hear his response. You didn't try to go upstairs to pack some clothes.

Unable to stomach his presence any longer, you winnowed away.

a/n: technically, this is the end. I wanted to leave it open and hanging, but the more I think about it, the more I realize that I am a sucker for happy endings so I might write a part 2 bc I already have an idea :))

Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon

1k taglist: @onebadassunicorn @thegoddessofnothingness

[cupidbedsy]

hi!! congrats on 1k, i love your writing so much 🤍

could i request the sunny sunflower with luke, with the prompt "i think about you a lot." "aw, really?" [panicking] "no." "oh." i was thinking frat!luke who's usually confident but there's one girl he's awkward around, but if you feel it fits better elsewhere, i don't mind :))

✿ CUPID'S FLORAL SHOP ✿

here's a freshly picked sunny sunflower 🌻 !

warnings: none... i think !

word count: 840

florist cupid: if i'm being honest, yes i am writing these out of order but my brain is being very picky today. FRAT!LUKE STFU

from the moment you bumped into him walking through campus, you've been drawn to luke hughes. it was no secret that everything about him captivated you, from his messy curls all the way down to his dirty sneakers.

and it was also no secret that he was entranced with you since the moment the two of you ran into each other, the way your hair fell around your face, the way you basically had to crane your neck to look up at him, the way you blushed easily from whatever he said, you were his... or least, he was going to make you his.

from there on out, you had dragged your friends to many frat parties in hopes you would see him again, and a lot of the times you did. usually, he'd be talking to a group of guys, hand clutching the red solo cup, flicking his eyes to a girl who had latched onto him.

but he also almost always found you, walking over to pull you into a conversation where most of it was him flirting with you, saying the most random things that got you to blush.

that was the extent of your relationship with the boy, however; endless flirting, sporadic interactions, fleeting glances, everything but what the two of you wanted.

standing in the corner of the party, you tried to spot one of your friends but to your luck, none of them were within sight. after many parties you had gone to, you should've been used to them and mingling with some of the other people there, but you couldn't.

you had already spent an hour and a half in the frat house, so maybe it wasn't such a bad thing if you left.

you mentally prepared yourself to make your way through the crowd, phone held tightly in your grip as you bee-lined it to the door. but just as you were approaching the kitchen, almost to the door, a figure cut in front of you causing you to stop abruptly and look up at them.

"hey pretty girl."

pink covered your chinks, staring up at luke, "hi."

"leaving so soon?"

"i've been here for a while actually, but i'm getting tired."

"oh." luke frowned ever so slightly, and if you weren't attuned to every facial expression of his, you would have thought he was indifferent about your departure.

you sighed softly, trying to think of a way to prolong your exchange. it took all of one minute for an idea to spring into your mind, a shy smile growing on your face, "i was gonna go get some ice cream, if you want to come with. not like you have to! i was just wondering-"

"sure. let's go." you stood shocked at his quick response, blinking, opening, and closing your mouth quickly.

you were in such a state of shock that you hadn't noticed him walking towards the door until he turned back and raised an eyebrow, "you coming?"

"right. yeah."

you followed after him, fidgeting with your hands as the two of you walked down to his car, giving him a grateful smile as he opened the door for you.

the drive to the ice cream shop was relatively silent, save for the music that was playing through the radio.

you couldn't help stealing glances over at him, taking in his appearance; the rolled-up shirt sleeves of his button-down shirt resting just below his elbows, the top buttons were undone, a few bracelets covering his right wrist, his hair damp and messy but the curls were still mostly intact, peaking out from underneath his backward baseball cap.

if he noticed you staring at him, he didn't say, continuing to drive with one hand on the wheel and the other resting in his lap. his shorts rid up from how he was sitting, man-spreading as much as possible, exposing his thighs that made your mind go blank.

the two of you arrived at the ice cream shop two minutes later, hopping out of his truck and walking towards the building, luke opening the door for you.

"what do you want?"

you blinked up at him, telling him what you wanted and he stepped forward, ordering it for you before paying at the other end.

he led you outside, itching to reach over and hold your hand but he didn't just barely able to keep the thought to himself. you sat down on one side of the picnic table, him on the other, as the two of you ate your ice cream.

it was silent for the first few minutes before you gained the courage to say something, "i think about you a lot."

a smirk covered his face, doing nothing to hide the internal panic he was experiencing, "aw, really?"

"no." you licked your ice cream, training your eyes to the table in order not to laugh at his fallen expression.

"oh."

finally, you looked up at him, giggling at the pout on his face.

"luke."

"hm?"

"i was kidding."

"oh."

back to the shop ! ; navigation !

[obsessedhoneycomb]

Love me like you do

George Russell x fem!reader

Summary: The well known business boss George Russell is on his hunt to find himself a wife. After spotting you, he’s sure that you’re the one, but you’re a little challenge.

Warnings: 18+, smut, cursing words, enemies to lovers, love, fluff, pregnancy

Word count: 5k

A/N: I was working on this idea for the past two weeks, I had so much fun writing it. At first it was supposed to be mafia themed, but I gave up on that, giving it more business-powerful vibe. Enjoy it! :)

///

Sitting in your small apartment, you were watching the news on the TV. There he was, the man who ran the dirty business in the city, George Russell. He was no stranger to you, everybody was talking about him in the law firm you were working at as an associate.

“Russell… Again.” In between eating your pizza, you hummed in displease, you really hated the man. He looked always so sure of himself, his sparkling expensive cars and money everywhere he stepped his poisonous feet.

“The well-known boss of the city George Russell has started with his hunt for a wife.”

Camera turned to his direction, George looking into it with his intense gaze and wide smirk.

“I’m going to find you, baby girl.”

You stopped as you took in his gaze, it was like he was talking to you through the screen, and you chuckled at the naivety of your brain. You would never want a man like him…

///

Week after, you were having a lunch break at the restaurant in the city, you got yourself a fancy lunch from time to time. Eating in peace, you didn’t notice that you’re being watched.

George sat at his usual table, he was visiting this restaurant regularly. This time, he wasn't interested in reading newspapers, rather he looked around the space, and his eyes landed on you. Hell, he was mesmerised. The way you giggled at your phone, how your hair landed over your shoulders, even your fit figure...

Suddenly you got up, grabbing your things as you paid for your lunch and stormed out of the restaurant. George felt the urge to get up and ran to you, but he stopped himself, cursing under his breath. He was supposed to be composed and frightening, how come a simple woman can make him so soft?

///

"Sure, I can get it for you boss." you just rolled your eyes, walking to this expensive boutique, where your boss ordered his load of shirts.

While you were waiting for the order to be ready, you couldn't help yourself and you wandered through the beautiful dresses that just hung there, captivating your eyes. You always dreamed to dress like this, stylish, elegant and classy. Yes, you tried your best, but it was cheap, because your salary wasn't much.

"That would suit you." Manly voice was heard behind you and you just turned around, thinking it's just an associate of the store, but it was motherfucking George Russell.

Your brows furrowed, jaw tightened as you stepped aside from the dresses and him. You noticed that he was dressed like usual, his tailored suit with the buttoned shirt, three buttons from the top undone, his expensive silver watches nearly blinding the eye.

"Nobody asked for your opinion." you were bold, not really playing the innocent girl, who is scared of him. And that was something which was even more tempting for him.

“When is your birthday?” He asked, following you through the boutique, carefully, like a prey.

“I’m amazed that you don’t know that already.” You scoffed, not giving him a single look.

George chuckled, shaking his head.

“I want to buy you that dress you were looking at. Give it as a birthday present.”

“Keep dreaming, boy. I’m not interested.”

“But you should be.”

Rolling your eyes, you lifted your gaze from the shoes, you were interested in, to meet his mesmerising blue eyes.

“And why is that?”

George took a few steps towards you, closing the distance between you, your nostrils filled with his cologne.

“Because sooner or later, I’m gonna see you in white.”

He then smiled with a soft hum, his hand brushing over yours, his body moving by you, walking out of the boutique.

You stood there, frozen to the spot, releasing the breath you didn’t know you were holding, stretching the hand he just brushed over, swallowing your excitement.

“We’ll see.”

///

You tried your best to avoid him, but it was really pointless when he could have information about anybody he pointed to. Week later you received the big box with a scandalously big ribbon on it, which was only to make you upset.

There was that damn dress you were eying in that boutique you met him together with a sticky note.

Dear miss,

This dress screams your name for you to wear it. I want to see you in it by Friday at 7 PM, at that restaurant you were having lunch last week.

Your future husband, G.Russell

Even though he didn’t know you, he knew his ways to make you angry and annoyed. You’ll show him with whom he’s playing.

On Friday, you wore that dress, hell, the way it was wrapped around your curves, making you look like some kind of goddess, it made you smile. But soon you got your upset expression back, remembering your mission for the evening. You dress to impress.

Arriving to the restaurant, you captured eyes of everybody there, even waitresses stopping in their tracks to lay their eyes on you, dropping a few glasses on the ground. With a soft huff you arrived at the table where George was already sat, smirking at the way your hips were swaying, walking in your heels. You gave him a look full of daggers, which made his smirk even wider.

“Thanks for the dress, I guess. But you can fuck off. I’m not gonna participate in this stupid game of yours.”

He let out a small chuckle, his eyes darting over your face, noticing that your outburst made your cheeks blush.

“It’s not a game. I already have a date set for our wedding.”

That made you even more furious. Taking a step closer to him, you poked your finger to his chest.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not gonna marry you. Find someone who actually wants it.”

He grabbed your hand firmly, moving it to his lips to brush his lips over your knuckles, the way it made your breath hitch and your heart nearly stop.

“Well. I thought that it’d be much harder to shut you up.”

“Go to hell, Russell.”

You snickered, snatching your hand from his grip and you stormed out of the restaurant.

George leaned back in his chair, thinking that he might be too much in his demands to you, so he needed to push back a little. Give you time and space. Show you that he values your opinion.

But only to that point to lure you into his setting.

///

George wanted to impress you with his actions. So he started to dig into your life, making his people gather everything about you.

So when he found out you’re an F1 fan, he started to show his interests by investing into technologies and to the Mercedes team, your favourite. It was a huge thing, when a wealthy man like Russell was doing that.

You were working as usual, after your last encounter, your boss were more aware of your presence and what work you were assigned to. Suddenly, your name was called, there was a box with flowers at your desk. Your jaw tightened, because immediately you knew.

“The secret admirer again?” Your colleague giggled next to you, while you let out an annoyed huff.

“Something like that..”

Tossing the flowers to the bin, you wanted to do the same with the box, but curiosity got the best of you. Unwrapping it, getting through the delicate pink paper, there were VIP tickets to the Formula One Grand Prix. But it wasn’t just an ordinary GP. It was for Monaco. Your dream. Brushing your fingertips over the plastic card with your name and photo on it, you felt torn. There was also a note, neatly written.

Dear miss,

I heard about the very special hobby of yours. Allow me to invite you to accompany me to the race in Monaco. I think that you’ll enjoy it. The box is filled with everything you’ll need for that weekend. There’s no need for you to do anything. I have it covered.

G.Russell

That bastard.

///

Watching the qualifying had you on the edge of your seat, your breath quickened, fast cars swishing around the VIP lounge. George was smiling widely, noticing the other sorts of people eying them, whispering, he was beyond himself every time he brushed his hand over your back and you didn’t scold him for it, because you were simply not paying attention.

His eyes darted to your face, taking in your focus. “You’ll be a supportive mom for our child, who’s, for sure, will be a driver.”

That got your attention abruptly, shooting him a pointed gaze. “You’re nuts.”

“Why? About our child being a successful formula one driver?” He snorted, toying with your words.

“No, about the idea of me having kids with you. Not gonna happen.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes with a huff, that fluttering tightness in your chest being brushed away.

George chuckled, he knew that you won’t give in easily. What you didn’t know was that he was a very patient man.

Spending a whole weekend with him was exhausting. Everybody expected you to act like a smiley sunshine, happy to be beside him, having a time of your life. But you enjoyed only the part of racing and that you got to meet your idols with the perks of VIP pass.

George was trying to provide you with everything he thought you’d need, drinks, food and sweets. Making sure you’re safe, beside him all the time, not getting you out of sight. Well, he respected your privacy every time you slammed the door of your hotel room in his face. You didn’t want to admit it, but he wasn’t so bad as you thought. The way he looked at you, took care of you, how he smiled at your witiful remarks.

After the race, you held that stupid smile on your face, happy with the result of it, really full of joy from the weekend. You were grateful.

George was walking beside you, his hand close, his fingers brushing over yours from time to time, trying his luck again. About fifth time, your fingers met and it resulted in him intertwining his with yours and to his surprise, you weren’t pushing him away with a comment of how disgusting he is. Actually you were still smiling, trying to avoid to look at him, because of the familiar warmth in your stomach you felt.

“It was a nice weekend, don’t you think?” Slicing through the silence between you, he held onto your hand like if it was his lifeline.

“Pretty much. Thank you.” Your voice went soft, he really didn’t expect it.

“No problem. I like to make you happy.”

“So, what about a dinner? I’m starving.”

Sitting in the hotel restaurant, you found your way to talk together. Sharing the deepest thoughts and secrets of yours, laughing at the stories from your childhood, somewhere in between all of this, you realised that you like this man. More than you should. Maybe his idea of marriage wasn’t as stupid as you thought and something deep within you was awakening. Desire.

George walked you to your hotel room like he did for the past two nights, but as your key card slid through the scanner, unlocking your room, you turned around to face him, fighting with the urge to kiss him. As if he knew by the look in your eyes, he grabbed your chin firmly, closing the distance between you, capturing your lips in sweet kiss he was waiting for so long. Letting out a soft moan into his mouth, you pulled him closer by his shirt, his hand pushing the door open, urging you to get inside.

Walking together as if you were waltzing around, you got to the king size bed falling onto the mattress, still kissing. George crawled on the top of you, his hands everywhere on your body, not getting enough of you. Finally he moved to your neck, sucking on the sensitive flesh, making you gasp and shake in need.

“George, don’t-“ you managed to breathe out and his head shot up abruptly, looking down at you.

“I can stop. If it’s too much, tell me and I’ll stop.”

“Don’t. Don’t stop. Please.”

And with that you spent the first night of many by having a wild sex.

///

Walking the aisle was meant to be easy, but it was hard, when your soon-to-be husband fucked your brains out the night before. Straps of your heels wrapped around your ankles held you straight, so nobody could tell that you’re barely holding yourself, while wearing that beautiful wedding dress you managed to choose on the first try.

Oh, but George knew. Smirking at you the whole time you were nearing to him, he was so proud of himself, for making you weak, that confidence of yours shaken a little and that fiery look replaced with worry.

Finally you reached to his spot, grabbing his hand with tight grip, leaning over to kiss his cheek, a gesture that seemed so sweet for your guests, but you just whispered to his ear.

“I’ll make you pay for this, you dick.”

He just bit into his lip, holding his laugh in, looking at the priest who was about to wed them. You put on your best smile, looking forward to spend the rest of your life with this number one asshole. But he was yours. And you loved him to the moon and back.

///

The honeymoon location was meant to be a surprise. Even after a few times of your attempts of trying to find out, George wasn’t giving you a single clue.

Spending the atrocious seventeen hours in the plane seat, you found your fun with it, every time you got up to the restroom, you brushed your ass over George, making him clear his throat and keep his composure.

Yes, he was or you were wealthy enough to have your own private jet, but your one condition was to travel like the ordinary people at least once.

Finally, the last flight with a small plane took you to the private island, with a bungalow at its centre.

The manager of the location showed you to your house where you were about to spend the next two weeks. No signal, no civilization, supply arriving twice a day.

While George was discussing details with him, you laid down on the very spacious bed in the bedroom, which had a view over the beautiful scenery of the island. You didn’t know how that happened but you fell asleep, exhausted from the travels.

The chirping of birds woke you up, it was evening already, the house was filled with silence and George nowhere near you. Walking out of the bedroom, yawning and running a hand through your hair, you walked to the living room which had a small pool at the side with another view over the ocean and the nature of the island.

And there he was. Naked, his body dipped in the water, leaning over the edge of the pool, his gaze travelling up and down your figure with his hungry look. You shivered, feeling that your adventures just began.

“I see you had your beauty sleep, my love. Strip and come here.” His voice was demanding and you wanted to slip out another funny remark, but you bit into your tongue and got yourself naked, slowly moving down the stairs to the pool, water devouring your curves. George couldn’t take it anymore, he was hard all day after your naughty little encounters. He moved through the water to capture you in his arms,

“I was waiting for this whole day.” Whispering, he nibbled at your ear, making you gasp. Grabbing your thighs, he met your hips with his, making you feel how desperate he was for you. Another little move and he slid into your folds, your eyes wide, your mouth letting out a loud moan. The water from the pool washed over your skin in a steady rhythm while George held you close to his body.

The warmth of his skin against yours made you lose your mind. Holding you against the wall of the pool, he was sliding in and out of you, each time his thrusts being harder, hitting that exact spot inside you.

“George-“

“Mhm, that’s right, baby. I want to hear your sweet sounds. You were teasing me throughout the day and I’m about to punish you in the greatest way.”

His teeth sunk into the delicate flesh of your neck, your legs tightening around his waist more.

“You’re not gonna be able to walk. But that’s alright. You’re not getting anywhere far from me this honeymoon.”

“F-fuck…”

“I love it when you curse, wife…”

///

Two fucking pink stripes.

“I’m gonna kill him.” You whispered for yourself, holding a positive pregnancy test you peed on a while ago. You were sure that after you get back from your honeymoon, you’re gonna have more time for yourself and some career improvements, even though George was able to provide for you both.

Well, your career can go to hell now. You rummaged through your toiletry bag, only to realise that you forgot to take a few pills from the blister of your birth control over the vacation. You never thought that it would be this easy to fall pregnant, but evidently George’s precious seed was strong as fuck.

“Honey, I’m home!” The sweet tone of his voice echoed through your apartment. “And I got something for you!”

Grabbing the test, you stomped out of the bathroom, holding it behind your back, wearing a soft smile over your face.

“Hey, love, good that you’re home. I have something for you too.”

“I was at the meeting at the centre today and I saw your favourite flowers, so I got you a bouquet.” George’s smile was infectious, you couldn’t even be upset with him, he stood there with the flowers in his hands, proud that he remembered.

“Well, I have something that lasts a lifetime.” You licked your lips a little nervous, your boldness gone.

He furrowed his brows, not getting where you’re going.

You got your hand from behind your back, stepping closer to him, handing him a pregnancy test. George just looked at it, his gaze blank, a heavy silence filling the room.

“Just say something for fucks sake, George.” You whispered desperately, frowning, trying to read his mind.

He clutched the test, his eyes meeting yours with a devious smile. “I knew it.”

“What? How?”

“You were so moody lately, more than you already are, your boobs are more swollen and that ass of yours is much fuller than before. Also you were sick for the past few days, so…”

You let out a deep sigh, your hand instinctively moving around your nonexistent belly. “So, are we keeping it? Do you want this?”

Placing the flowers aside, George walked to you, placing his hand over yours, while holding your gaze, his other hand on your cheek.

“You’re my wife. My family. My whole world. And I’m ready to be a father. I want everything life can offer to us. I love you. I love the baby already.”

///

“Let’s face it, our eldest son is an ass.” Your stern tone echoed through the kitchen, as you prepared the snack for your youngest son, who sat next to George at the table. You bought the whole mansion, because your family got bigger through the years, much more than you anticipated.

“Mommy, what is an ass?” Your youngest son asked sweetly, drinking his tea. Looking at him, your eyes softened a little.

George looked at him and then at you with amused smile. “Yeah, mommy, tell us.”

“Sweetie, don’t you want to go bother your sister? I need to talk with daddy alone.” You walked to the table, ruffled the soft hair of his and he just giggled and happily obliged, running to the direction of the room of your teenage daughter.

George was watching the scene, then his eyes rested back on you, his hand reaching out for you to sit on his lap. He was always doing this, trying to avoid the serious situation with being touchy. You kissed his cheek softly, letting out a sigh.

“You bought him a whole F1 team when he was still in diapers and now, when he’s a driver, he’s not appreciative of that. Always bossing around the people from the team, acting like he’s the king. You let this get into his head, being a first born. Also I saw all those girls, who’s falling on their knees for him, there’s always two of them hanging at his sides. I tried to interfere, but he’s not listening to me. Maybe you, the authority of the family, could talk some sense to him.”

“He’s nearly twenty, love. He can do whatever he wants.”

“Is that your argument? Really?” You got up from him in disbelief, walking around the counter to drink your coffee.

“Look, I can talk to him, but I know how I was in my twenties. You used to call me a dick, you know.” Smirking, he leaned against the counter, his predatory look wandering over your figure.

“Ah, ah, you’re still a dick.” You let out a huff, trying to ignore his look as you closed the lid of the tray with food for your youngest.

The door of your daughter’s room bursted out open, she’s stomping in the kitchen with annoyed face.

“Mom! I need to get my makeup done and he’s bothering me, why do you allow him to come to my room, you should be the one to entertain him.” With that she turned back to walk into her room, leaving your youngest just standing there with sad look.

George went immediately to her room, to scold her for inappropriate behaviour, while you got your son into your arms, shushing him from crying.

“She’s in puberty, you know, her hormones raging, but deep down she loves you. Just need time to learn to show it to you properly.”

///

Your eldest son was preparing for the race, wearing his cocky face along with furrowed brows. He looked so much like George, and he knew that he was handsome. Standing at the back of the garage, listening to some conversation of the teammates, you felt your stomach churning. You had only coffee for breakfast, because for a few days you weren’t able to eat anything else, the stress of being a mom of three was too much again. George, who just talked some sense into your eldest, noticed your frown and your paleness and he was beside you within a second.

“Are you okay, baby?” He asked, running a hand over your cheek with a serious look.

“I’m good, really, I just didn’t have breakfast.” You tried to reassure him, but in that moment your stomach gave up and you felt that you’re gonna be sick. George knew, so he rushed you to the back where the restroom was. As you kneeled down beside the toilet, you heaved wildly.

After a while, he helped you to the sink, to where you rinse your mouth. With a sigh you caught his look in the mirror.

“What?”

“Look… After enduring three pregnancies with you, I think that we both know the difference between the sickness from the food and from-“

“From your DNA inside me?”

George let out an amused chuckle, you always having those biting remarks. His hand was at the back of your neck, looking down at your face with a soft smile.

“I wanted to say it more gently.”

“From when you’re so soft and gentle?”

“I’m getting like that every time a baby pops out of you.”

You let out a laugh, grabbing his shirt to kiss him. His fingers tangled in your hair, he deepened the connection, not caring about the fact that you threw up earlier.

“We need to go back, the race is about to start soon.” You whispered against his lips, your forehead rested against his.

“I know.. also, I tried to talk with our son. He just told me that he has a girlfriend. And he didn’t want to bother us by discussing adult things when we have full responsibilities with our youngest.. and our ferocious daughter.”

“A girlfriend? Oh… Well, let’s hope that it’s not gonna end up being a disaster this time.”

///

The crisp air coming from the opened balcony door along with the sun rays woke you up. Humming softly, you moved to the side, opening your eyes, only to see your husband standing naked on the balcony, watching the city around. Smiling to yourself, your body wrapped in comfy sheets of the expensive hotel George booked for your Parisian trip. He heard that you’re awake and he got back to the room, closing the balcony door, sitting beside you on the bed.

“I’m sorry, the cold air must’ve wake you, but I couldn’t help but look at the view.” He smiled gently, his hand placed on your swollen belly, you were six months along.

“It’s okay, the fresh air was nice.” You whispered, looking at him, adoring his face, the sun shining over his cheeks, emphasising his wrinkles, featuring the glimpse of greenish spark in his blue eyes.

“What are you thinking about?” George raised his brow with amused smile, his thumb rubbing circles over your belly.

“About how much I love you. How I love our family. How I gave you a hard time when we met for the first time, but the truth was that I wanted you even earlier than that. I just didn’t want to admit that I’d actually want a man like you.”

“I saw right through you from the start. Always so stubborn, independent, feisty. But I was patient with you. And now we’re here. Married for god knows how long, with our fourth child on the way. You’re so beautiful and I love you so much.”

“I love you too…” you pulled him under the covers with you, sneaking your hands over his body, craving his closeness.

///

“Mom, you’re huge.” Your daughter snorted, sitting on the bed in the master bedroom, while you were trying to put on some tight dress. You shot her a sharp glare, huffing a little, caressing your belly. Your due date was three days ago and there were no signs of your baby girl crawling its way outside. Turning around to face her, you smiled. It was very rare that she spent the time with you, being all busy with her friends and secrets she kept. She even let you cup her cheeks, caress it while she looked into your eyes, smiling happily. There was something odd with her and you couldn’t quite place it.

“Mom, I.. I want to tell you something.”

“Ah. I knew it.”

“I need you to stay calm.”

“Oh, is it bad?”

“No- yes- I don’t know.”

“Are you doing drugs?” You laughed while still holding her face gently.

“No! Mom!”

“Okay, sorry, just tell me, please.”

“I have a boyfriend.”

You raised your brows in surprise. “Well, you’re seventeen, so… what’s wrong with that?”

“It’s not bad that I have him, but who he is.”

“A bad guy?”

“Not exactly, he’s.. he’s a driver, a rival of my brother.”

Your eyes went wide as you understood where she’s pointing.

“No way, darling- you can’t be serious.”

“Yes, my boyfriend is Emilian Verstappen-Piquet.”

You nearly fainted from the news. Emilian was the son of Max and Kelly, a wealthy couple who got George into many troubles with his business. You took in a deep breath and at the same time the pain shot through your belly. Letting out a whimper, you felt something wet running down your legs.

“Fuck…”

“Mom! Mommy! What’s wrong?!” Your daughter had a panic written all over her face as she tried to hold you by your hands.

“Well, your baby sister is interested in your shocking news and she wants out.”

“Dad! Mom’s gonna give birth in the bedroom!”

///

“When I said I want to go back to Italy, I didn’t mean like this.” You let out a soft laugh, having your two year old toddler daughter pressing on your hip, clinging to you, while you were reading through the schedule at the Monza circuit. The sun was shining like crazy, you made sure that your kids had the sunscreen on in tons.

George sat beside you, pushing his sunglasses up to his hair, smiling at your adorable daughter.

“I know, but we’re here for our son, who’s gonna be champion again. And also, when was the last time we were together with only one of our kids? Thank goodness for my parents to help us.”

“Yeah, you’re right. This little one is so quiet and sweet, it’s like a reward after those raging nights with her siblings back then.” You chuckled at your daughter, who had her head over your chest, sucking on her thumb.

George wrapped his hand around your shoulder, ruffling the soft hair of your daughter, kissing your temple.

“She’s the sweetest. It took us a few attempts to finally create a quiet child.”

“Don’t try to underestimate her, maybe she’ll surprise us in the future.” You let out a laugh, your daughter reacting to it with a soft giggle, drooling over your summer dress.

“Oh, darling.” George took her into his arms, she wrapped her soft arms around his neck, sighing in contentment.

You wiped your dress from the drool, watching your husband with your baby and it made your heart nearly burst out with joy. This was your perfect life. And you lived for every aspect of that.

———

Please don’t use my writings without permission! Pictures found on Pinterest.

[blueteller]

It is undeniable that in the TCF timeline, Pendrick was the one who went to the volcano intending to get the power, and met Cale there. However, it was never stated that Pendrick was the one who got it in TBOAH; in fact, the information we have contradicts it. There could be two reasons for this.

Reason one, you are correct and this is a plot hole, which has a precedent. With a series as long as TCF, it is downright impossible not to make any mistakes, and I wouldn't hold it against the author if that was the case. The plotholes are very few and the continuity is overall excellent, regardless of those minor mistakes. So the author could have intended it to be Pendrick. It would fit with how Cale at the beginning inteded to "take the Ancient Powers from the members of Choi Han's team".

Because it's hard to figure out what that is supposed to mean when in TBOAH, Vitality of the Heart was Taylor's (who died a couple of months later), the Sound of Wind was Toonka's (whom Choi Han definitely did not like nor consider "on his team"), and the Indestructible Shield never belonged to anyone in the 5 volumes that Cale read. Even if we count Vitality as belonging to "one of Choi Han's people" possibly due to an undiscussed plotline where Cage definitely met Choi Han's party and cursed Beacrox before becoming allies, we still need a second AP to make it "multiple Powers on Choi Han's team". So Pendrick could be the one that author could have meant at the start, since Pendrick dies later on.

Reason two, it might as well never have been Pendrick to begin with. Talk aside who counts as "Choi Han's people with APs", it was noticeably never stated that Pendrick was the elf who got the Fire of Destruction in TBOAH. In fact, when I first read it, I was under the impression that it couldn't be Pendrick. Not because of the Fire Elemental thing (because I honestly forgot that part), but because of how his name was never stated. It felt deliberate to me. The author has a tendency to avoid directly stating certain things to later reveal twists (such as never saying what KRS's exact job was at the beginning of the story aside from vague "office work"), so I thought it was a purposeful choice.

Pendrick being the one trying to get the power in TCF timeline doesn't mean it was supposed to be him. Remember, the butterfly effect is very powerful in this story. You can't even argue that the Elves would be unaffected because of how isolated they are, since even they heard of Cale and the Plaza Terror Incident! Not to mention that meeting at the inn.

To sum it up: it as either intended to be Pendrick and we're dealing with a plot hole, or it was never meant to be Pendrick at all.

The reason why I made this poll is because I honestly cannot make up my mind which should apply, and it matters if I ever want to write a fanfic involving the TBOAH timeline.

I just gotta know who would fit the best!!

[useless19]

Do you think Bowser has hinted at marriage once in awhile randomly or do you think he's chilled out about rushing things finally. Sure he was pretty dead set on marrying the Princess not only from his own interests and political benefits but prehaps abandonment issues caused him to see marriage as mostly a way to insure himself they wont leave him since it a final say writen on papers? (divorce exist but if you got unspoken issues the smaller details are usually ignored)

Honestly I've always been fascinated by peoples take on Bowsers possible attachment or abandonment issues

He absolutely has.

"Or I could just lock you in the dungeon when it's time for you to go back," Bowser said. He laughed when Luigi started to protest. "I know, I know. No kidnapping. It was a joke." -Bowser, in the middle of planning Luigi's kidnapping.

I imagine a lot of the earlier proposals got passed off with a similar 'I'm joking' sort of thing. But because Luigi's still got fairly low self-esteem, he takes Bowser's word when he brushes off Luigi's bemusement with a 'I'm not being serious' or the like whenever Luigi comments on a pretty place and Bowser hints that it might be a good place to have a wedding.

Ultimately, Days!Bowser had a (at his best) distant dad, a mum who died when he was barely old enough to remember her but not young enough to have not remembered her at all, and some relatives who couldn't be around very often for their own safety. And then he only reinforced that by kidnapping people. So yes, he sort of thinks that marriage will make someone stick around (and it did during the main plot!).

(I considered going for a Bowser who lost both his parents at a terribly young age (playing into the fact that some of the Yoshi games refer to him as King Bowser, even though he's a pretty young kid), but a Bowser who has literally never been accountable to anyone is going to be different to the Bowser I was putting together for Day 7/9.)

Anyway, this means it comes as a shock the first time Bowser goes all out on a proposal. Luigi is not a fan of surprises or being the center of attention, and Bowser's not going to half-arse something as important as a proposal. It'll be loud, there'll be a crowd, and Luigi's going to have the frightful time of figuring out how to say 'no' without Bowser assuming that's the end of the relationship. (He doesn't do great).

Luigi escapes the resulting fiery chaos and retreats to his room. He feels awful and has some miserable thoughts on whether or not this relationship is viable if they keep having stuff like this happen. (It's not been that much that often, Luigi's just spiralling here). He gets ready for bed automatically, but doesn't get any sleep.

And trying to figure this out turned into just writing fic... It's first draft, but here you go.

Luigi yelped when his bedroom door slammed open. Bowser stomped in, only to stop short when he noticed Luigi.

"Knock, please," Luigi said.

"You haven't escaped yet?" Bowser said.

Luigi clutched the heavy book he'd been trying to use to send him off to sleep. "Do I have to escape?" he asked carefully.

"Not yet," Bowser said. He began to pace around Luigi's room.

Luigi put the book aside and laced his fingers together. It was hard to even know where to start. How were you supposed to tell your partner that you weren't ready for marriage when they so obviously were?

"I'm sorry I messed things up," Luigi said.

"You should be," Bowser snapped.

Luigi flinched. Bowser stopped pacing and took a deep breath.

"I'm furious," Bowser said on the out breath.

"I'm sorry, I -"

"You said you wouldn't leave without telling me why," Bowser said, looming over Luigi.

"Do you want me to leave?" Luigi asked.

"What? No!"

Luigi patted the bed next to him. Bowser huffed. Instead of sitting next to Luigi on the mattress as Luigi had intended, Bowser slumped to the floor and leant his head on his folded arms on the bed.

"I don't want to leave," Luigi said.

"Then why didn't you say yes?" Bowser asked, a note of hurt in his voice.

"Because I don't want to get married yet," Luigi said. "It's a lot to say yes to. It's a huge decision."

"Figures I managed to bag the one mushroom person afraid of commitment," Bowser grumbled. "What do you think a relationship is except a precursor to marriage?"

Luigi hadn't considered it like that. "I don't know. There's still a lot we haven't talked about with... us and everything it entails."

"The proposal can be a surprise but the engagement shouldn't be," Bowser said.

Luigi blinked in surprise. "Exactly. Where did you hear that?"

"Can't remember." Bowser shrugged, knocking Luigi off balance.

Luigi lifted his hand to put it on Bowser's arm then hesitated. Would his touch even be welcome right now? When he dropped his arm, he caught sight of Bowser's red eye watching him.

"Hate me so much you can't stand the thought of touching me?"

"No." Luigi braced himself. "Do you hate me?"

Bowser closed his eyes. "I asked you to marry me a few hours ago, what do you think?"

"I think a lot of people would hate someone for saying no."

Bowser huffed and reached out to pat Luigi's leg. If he wanted to hurt Luigi, it would have been so easy, but he didn't. Luigi reached forward and threaded his fingers through Bowser's coarse hair. Something he hadn't realised was tense relaxed as Bowser gave a rumble of contentment.

"Was it just a no?" Bowser asked. "Or was it a not now? Because it felt like the former, but you waffled a lot before you got there."

"That's it exactly," Luigi said, relieved beyond measure at finally getting the right words. "I don't want to get married now, but I might change my mind in the future."

The lateness of the hour hit Luigi and he was unable to stifle his yawn. It must have been gone midnight by now. Tomorrow was looking better than it had been, but too little sleep wouldn't help anyone.

"We should probably try to get some sleep," Luigi said, untangling his fingers from Bowser's hair with a pang of disappointment. "Would you stay with me, tonight?" he blurted out before he could wimp out of asking for what he wanted again.

"In here?" Bowser waved at Luigi's quite-big-for-Luigi-but-small-for-Bowser bed.

"If that's okay?"

Bowser crawled onto the bed. There really wasn't much room for Luigi, but he'd spent enough time in too-narrow or too-short beds on adventures that he could probably doze off. Bowser curled his hand around Luigi's body. Luigi put his hand over Bowser's finger.

Heavy, absurdly long breaths were becoming a welcome sound to drift off to. Luigi snuggle down, enjoying the extra warmth a fire-breathing Koopa added.

"How long will it take before you're ready?" Bowser asked in a tone that he'd probably meant to be casual but missed by miles.

How long did it usually take before people were comfortable taking the next step in a relationship like this? Luigi had known people with whirlwind engagements who would have had a kid already on the way at this point, and others who had been together more than five years before they even hinted at marriage.

And it didn't matter how other people did it, Luigi had to figure out what worked for Luigi.

"I don't know," Luigi said. He clutched Bowser's fingers. "If I try to pick a date, then I don't know if I'll be ready by then and the extra anxiety over whether or not I'll be ready by then will probably just make it take longer. And I don't think you'll do very well with a specific date to get your hopes up for."

Bowser grumbled unhappily, but didn't disagree. Luigi rubbed Bowser's claw with his thumb and was relieved when Bowser gave him a gentle squeeze in return.

"I can promise that when I'm ready, you'll be the second person to know," Luigi said.

"After Mario?" Bowser said, disgruntled.

"After me," said Luigi.

Bowser laughed sleepily.

[freakartack]

"...Hello? Ma! I told you not to call me today, I'm making a movie!" -Wario, Mario Power Tennis

The most important lesson from Ma that Wario took to heart was the endless pursuit of cold, hard cash. Unfortunately, the one lesson she could never teach him was the importance of hard work to get it.  It wasn't for lack of trying; Wario's Ma is the hardest worker this side of the Mushroom Kingdom.  Raising Baby Wario was a herculean enough task on its own, but ever the enterprising spirit, she had also set out to grow one of the most profitable crops: garlic.

Her backyard business quickly expanded into a veritable garlic empire. Wario's mother toiled away tirelessly each day from sunrise to sunset to grow and harvest as much garlic as she could possibly achieve.  Much of Wario's current strength and endurance can be attributed to helping his mom on the farm as a child, although the teeth-pulling task of getting him to actually work was almost as difficult as preventing him from eating all the garlic straight out of the ground.  Wario's nose for instant gratification has always been a thorn in his mother's side, but try as she might to instill a solid work ethic into the boy, her "get-rich-slow" schemes could never appeal to him.  Still, Wario enjoyed his surprisingly agrarian upbringing. Along with garlic, his mother also raised chickens for eggs, inspiring in Wario a lifelong soft spot for poultry.  (He also had a pet hamster named Fluffy, who sadly passed away in 1986.)

Today, Wario is still on good terms with his mother despite their physical distance, and frequent phone calls keep her updated on all of Wario's business successes.  Of course, being Wario, he heavily embellishes the amount of work he actually does at his company.  If she only knew...

[picaroroboto]

random thoughts I've been having on some of the connections between Aleph Abnormalities: some of them feel like they're more deeply connected to Lobotomy Corporation and it's employees than many other Abnos. Melting Love is the result of an agent getting atttatched to a slime blob from a failed experiment, and Mountain of Smiling Bodies came from a botched cleanup after a disatrous breach killed a lot of employees. They're both direct products of human error.

Plague Doctor claims to want to help people but turns them into it's minions when it turns into WhiteNight, Army in Black claims to want to protect people but turns black and breaches when it absorbs too much negativity from their hearts, and agents develop a cult-like worship of Blue Star because they believe in a sort-of afterlife if they jump into it. These three, whether actively or unintentionally, seem to exploit the faith and trust of the employees, their desire to be helped or to be literally anywhere other than where they are now.

Alephs are powerful and threatening because they can do a lot of damage, yes, but what makes them worse, what makes them truly deserving of the highest tier of threat level, is the way they are the result of or take advantage of deeply human psychological vulnerabilities.

[forgetful-river]

Sometimes being in love is like getting your eye gored in a fit of purifying violence, sometimes it's not

[wundrousarts]

Hi folks! It seems like people are discovering that there are people online who write some WEIRD! 👎 stuff for Nevermoor. Some tips and tricks for dealing with that:

Don't engage. Don't read the fics. Don't even comment to say how much you hate it.

Don't spread it around. It's gross as hell, I know! But being like "ew, guys, I found this gross fic" just means you're causing more people to seek out said gross fic, and that's just not great. If you don't want to see it, no one else wants to either.

If you can: block, mute, or filter. I don't really use any fanfic sites to know if these functionalities exist, but I'm sure people online have found ways. Edit: here's a way to do it on Ao3.

TL;DR: Ignore, Ignore, Ignore. 👍

(PS: Same thing goes for when people send weird inappropriate anon messages. Just delete them from your inbox and don't subject others to them.)

This is unfortunately something that's been present for years in the fandom, on both Ao3 and Wattpad. This is also why I essentially don't read Nevermoor fics unless they're for Mogtober, and even then I'm cautious. I have seen some weird stuff written about my favorite characters that I wish I could pluck from my brain and set on fire, or worse! But when I stumble across that stuff, I just quickly close the tab and pivot to something else to get my mind off of it.

We should not entertain these types of people in a fandom full of minors about a middle grade series, so: just don't engage with them, ignore them, filter them out, and maybe even drown them out with some fics of your own.

[buccellato]

We're far enough along in the week that I think this won't disrupt the rest of the book club discussion, but just to be safe I'm putting it under a cut since it deals with the themes of sexual assault

I've seen some people touch about the themes of body autonomy and SA undertones from the fifth moon incident, and as someone who is on my like, 3rd reread over the years I definitely concur with it

and I wanted to add some more support to the conversation (if, uh, there is one here), because I notice people tend to focus on Vash's reaction and the immediate incident (which is fair, because he's one of the characters the audience will be empathizing with most at this point), and I wanted to go over the other things surrounding the incident that made this event go from "villain hurts the protagonist event" to something worse™️

(screencaps courtesy of the Overhaul project btw)

First up we have Vash's freeze-up event, which is very common in traumatic events but not for Vash, who has learned to be reactive for survival. Some deeply traumatic memory is freezing his body, one that he can't even fully remember, and he just stands there and dissociates in his memories for a solid minute as his naked-ass brother closes the good distance between them on foot after declaring he was gonna show him how to use his angel arm (which is just bad vibes city after the following pages, because Knives is just so casual with how he treats Vash's body, like it's something that belongs to him). I truly believe this wouldn't happen if he wasn't under extreme duress, because we know Vash is inhumanly fast and we know that he definitely wants to get back at his brother. This isn't a Dominique situation where he's trapped by other means, this is one where he's trapped by his trauma imo.

Next page is the one I like to call the "you need to back the fuck up dude" page because of how creepy Knives is here. He leans on Vash's arm in a weirdly casual and tender way, but Vash is pulling away in shock and fear. And then to follow it up, Knives slams his hand into Vash's face to take control of him. Throughout it all Vash is visibly spooked, but Knives looks so goddamn pleased with himself. After this there's a few pages of Vash's body be changed against his will to activate the angel arm, followed up by this

Where the gung-ho guns are all watching on, stunned, while Conrad yells at them to evacuate (you know, the usual things to say when you accidentally slip the screwdriver from the demon core). Knives, meanwhile, has slithered up behind Vash and is getting more handsy with him for better control. Throughout it all he is completely at ease, asking Vash "how it feels," to activate his arm while forcing him to remember the events of Lost July. All of his language here kind of implies that he doesn't have much respect for Vash's individuality, going on about how "this is our true power" while forcing him to remember one of the worst events of his life. Knives here is drawn extra menacing with wide-eyed glee while Vash is just straight-up bawling.

The following page is Knives trying to force his brother to fire, which others have touched on, but I just actually really wanted focus on these 2 panels because Vash is just in complete anguish. Tears are literally pouring down his face, he is miserable and possibly in pain as his body gets changed in ways he cannot fully control anymore, but his brother is telling him to "let his power flow," as the core in the angel arm reaches criticality.

Vash eventually rips his arm out of the frame of the angel arm to shoot himself (and his brother) in the legs so that he can change his angle to at least aim up into space (and into the moon), because he can't stop the gun from firing. Vash and Knives are injured, Vash wishes he didn't exist, and almost everyone else who witnessed the event from a distance blames him for his participation. The SA vibes are very easy to read imo (to the point where I picked them up when I first read it years ago), and there's certain events from later in the manga that just sort of pile on to it (but we're not there yet so 🙃).

Now, I'm not entirely certain Nightow intended it to be read as SA at this point, but the way it sort of builds up later (and the way it gets reused more explicitly in tristamp) kinda gives me the vibe that he eventually picked up on it himself later on. Granted, we were already introduced to organ farming, slavery, and rape by this point in the narrative (and almost directly before this, too), so maybe it was intended 🤔🤔?

Anyways, in conclusion

Me, the reader, to Knives:

[brittlebutch]

kind of astounding how innocuous conversations with my younger siblings can make me feel like dogshit... what are the good things about being the oldest kid supposed to be again??

[mushroompollution]

Ch 53: Humpty Dumpty Sat on a Wall

Previous Chapters: The Sablier Arc Masterpost (35-42) || 43 || 44 || 45 || 46 || 47 || 48 || [ Ceremony Arc: 49 || 50 || 51 || 52 || 52.5 ] Read the manga: imgur || mangaread (ad warning)

Break tells Gilbert that while restaining one of its Contractors, none of the children will be able to use the power of Humpty Dumpty.

Break begins to explain what he knows, and we go into a flashback of a conversation between him and Duke Barma. And Break is holding that barrel game so we know it's meant to be from that chapter they dressed Oz up as a maid to meet Yura lol.

Duke Barma asks if he knows about the House of Fianna, and tells him that the Nightray family have been using those children to conduct research on Chains. He can't judge them, after all, both he and the Rainsworth house are conducting similar research. (which we never hear about again btw yeah it sucks)

But he's interested in what they've been up to.

But even more interesting is that all the children say the same name: Humpty Dumpty.

Barma explains that his ancestor Arthur, who knew Jack and Glen personally, described a similar Chain in one of his journals.

He also suggests that Humpty Dumpty might be the true name of the Chain they've been calling the Queen of Hearts. And that if Break can find one of its secondary Contractors, he should be able to use them to find the primary core Contractor, and perhaps, the Headhunter.

Back in the present, he says if he'd known the children of Fianna's would be there, he would have told Oz and been more prepared.

But Elliot is more worried about one of the children of Fianna's above all: Leo.

Break dismisses his concern and once again orders Gilbert to undress his brother to check for an Incuse. Gil must still be feeling cocky from that roundhouse kick earlier, because he actually stands up to Break.

Their tense conversation is suddenly interrupted by the sound of screaming. A man cries for help from the balcony above, screaming that someone had suddenly started cutting off heads!

Gilbert runs to try and help, only to watch as the man on the balcony loses his head, blood spraying as his head falls onto the steps in front of Break and Elliot.

As they investigate the gruesome scene on the next floor, Gilbert confronts Break. He had said that no one could use Humpty Dumpty's powers if he restrained one of its Contractors.

But the Headhunter had struck again anyway, therefore Elliot couldn't possibly be involved.

Downstairs, the accusation eats at him, and Elliot has to see for himself.

Gilbert demands an explanation from Break, who just laughs in his face. What, he might be able to help?? Break tells him not to flatter himself, that Gil is useless without Oz. Gil's temper flares, and he readies a fist, fully expecting the swordsman to put him in his place.

But the blind Break is caught off guard by a sound behind him and turns, allowing Gil's fist to connect, surprising them both.

Elliot asks about the others, if they're alright. Gilbert says he left Ada with Sharon. No one's seen Vincent, but he's probably alright. But as for Oz....

But instead of that, the scene changes to Break, following those footsteps through the halls of the mansion until he stumbles onto another gruesome scene.

[meangreenmulletmachine]

If you don’t mind sharing more, what happened in the relationship that caused it to end so suddenly? So glad you are safe and well, sending love xx

Hey there anon <3 thank you!

Well to make a long story short- you can't help someone who won't help themselves.

The long version- My ex partner was wrongly diagnosed and medicated for a mental health condition. When they found out they had been misdiagnosed (after months of extreme mania) they cut all their medications cold turkey- which made them spiral into a psychotic break.

I had gotten them in for emergency help but they refused to take advantage of the resources provided or go to follow up appointments, and never fully recovered. As I see it, the person I thought I loved is no long here. Someone else entirely now takes up residency in their body. I have had to mourn the loss of somebody who is still technically alive.

[lazaruscorpse]

taking everything down and then putting even more up took like 5 hours

[theheadlessgroom]

https://www.tumblr.com/beatingheart-bride/721420179978027008/beatingheart-bride-theheadlessgroom

@beatingheart-bride

“We’re fine, we’re fine!” June quickly assured her, as Wilhelm led them back to the banks, his heart pounding and his stomach tight with nerves-even though it seemed pretty clear by now that Constance was dead and gone (the term “sleeping with the fishes” popped into his head, but he resisted the urge to say it aloud, too rattled from the fight to crack jokes), he wanted to get as far from the spot where she sank as possible all the same (that, and he was sure the gators would soon smell blood in the water and come a-callin’, and he wasn’t about to interrupt supper).

As they swam back to shore, Randall seemed much more worried about Emily than himself, worriedly looking her up and down; having not missed the blows her opponent landed on her, he asked nervously, “Are you alright, are you okay? Sh-She didn’t hurt you too bad, d-did she?”

As they made it back to dry land, their clothes thoroughly soaked and now hanging heavily off their bodies, June ventured to suggest, “Why...why don’t we go back to the house? I’ll help you with those bites and scratches, and we’ll...we’ll take things easy for a bit.” They could all use something to calm their nerves, and the peace and quiet of the house would be the best place for it.

[sysciety]

This is the same anon, thank you for answering my question! It was very helpful. Maybe this was mentioned in one of the articles you cited (we have been reading them but progress is slow😅), but is there empirical evidence for the claim that dissociated parts are /always/ fused before a specific cutoff age unless there is trauma? We’re mostly confused by the specific age part, especially since what that specific age is is often reported differently. The idea of a specific cut-off age also seems unprovable (and unfalsifiable, at least while the response to people with DID claiming to have had the disorder formed after the cut-off is “you just don’t remember your earlier trauma or you’re lying”).

Thanks again!

I honestly think this has more to do with general brain development. 90% of your brain is developed by age 5 which is why early childhood experiences can have such a large impact on someone later on.

I'll say flat out that I'm not a neuroscientist and that I'm not an expert in childhood development. But I think the cut off range is more about the sheer amount of growth that you do at those early ages.

By 7-11 your brain is 95% developed, which is much less growth than that first time interval. By 5-8 is when a child's prefrontal cortex (critical thinking/decision making part of the brain) starts to become more active. It's not developed before then because your brain is trying to figure out basic functions just to like, live in general. When people say identity is integrated by 6-9 it's because it really does depend on when the integration starts to kick in.

You're gonna notice a lot of these are ranges and not specific numbers because brain development varies due to different factors (developmental disorders might mean something like a delay in speech, for example). I've seen some people say an identity should be formed at 6 and that 6-9 is to account for developmental disorders but I don't know the validity of that. I don't have a study for you to back this up so I can't tell you with certainty that 9 is the upper bound.

I will say as you get older you start developing non-dissociation coping mechanisms. In general being dissociation-prone increases the odds of a CDD so unless you've already been doing that I think the odds of developing one outside that range aren't high

The formation of CDDs is also a slow thing that I think ultimately depends on how that initial stage of integration is disrupted. Repetitive trauma doesn't even always cause CDDs it's a pretty complicated process.

So I guess to answer your question there isn't really a hard age cut off, but if there is no disruption then it will happen eventually. For some reason I was having a hard time finding if there is any concrete evidence but I did find this pamphlet on helping your child form an identity which might be helpful? Not sure if it's what you're looking for but I'll leave it here anyway: https://www.patterson-lakes-ps.vic.edu.au/uploaded_files/media/2.helping_your_child_to_have_a_strong_sense_of_identity_.pdf

(Also I know the sources from the last ask are pretty dense I totally get it if reading takes a while but I don't think it's mentioned in anything I linked if you were looking for it specifically)