#here’s this though i can’t believe this is my first lizzie drawing

[luna-spacedoodles]

guess where i got to in my rewatch. there are so many pieces of dialogue that mean something so different now oughh

[queenshelby]

The Secret – Part Four/Final Part

Featuring: Cillian Murphy x Fem Reader

Words: 2050

Warnings: Smut

Tag List (Cillian Murphy):

@lilymurphy03  @deefigs @theflamecrystal   @desperate-and-broken  @weepingstudentfishhorse   @livinginfantaxy  @rosey1981  @atomicsoulcollecto  @peakyboyslover  @nerdy4itall  @elenavampire21  @hanster1998  @mariapaiva13  @fairypitou  @harry-is-my-sunflower  @zozeebo  @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa  @littlewierdalien  @sad-huffle-nerd  @theflamecrystal   @peakymalfoyscullymulder  @themissthang  @0ghostwriter0  @stylescanbeatmyback  @1-800-peakyblinders​ @datewithgianni  @momoneymolife  @ntmynouis

Cannot Tag (please check your settings):

@l0tsofpennies @margoo0 @trolleydolly @avonlady1985 @chrisevanshoeee  @daydreamingnymph  @fookingshelby  

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Over the next two weeks, Cillian and you continued to keep your relationship a secret on set. You both believed that no one knew that you were seeing each other. But this was far from the truth. By that time, both Emma and Anthony knew about you. Yet they never spoke about it.

Anthony could understand why you and Cillian weren’t forthcoming about your relationship. You only just started working on set during this season of Peaky Blinders and Cillian was one of the producers. There would clearly be some controversy and gossip if people found out especially since there also was a rather large age gap between you.

Nonetheless, you hated to keep your relationship a secret especially when you saw other women on set showing some interest in Cillian.

There was one woman in particular who bothered you and this was Cillian’s new assistant Amanda.

She showed an obvious interest in Cillian and, being Cillian, he was oblivious about it which was somewhat adorable. He never noticed when women were crushing on him, yet he was the one who tried very hard to set everyone else up on dates.

After some filming during early hours of the morning, Amanda had yet another breakdown. It seemed that she couldn’t handle Cillian’s erratic schedule and, whilst you knew that Cillian was somewhat frustrated about it, he remained calm and even gentle, telling her not to worry too much about getting things wrong.

He was a patient and kind man and you loved exactly that about him, but when it came to Amanda, his kind and patient nature irritated you and you were just about to have your first argument.

In his trailer, you couldn’t help but confront him about his interactions with Amanda.

‘You do realise she is doing these things on purpose to get your attention, right?’ you sighed as Cillian read through his schedule for the remainder of the day. By that time, you both had already been up for five hours and you were tired after you had spent all night together with Cillian.

‘Are you jealous?’ Cillian chuckled with a grin on his face, not taking you seriously at all.

‘No, why would I be jealous?’ you asked annoyed just before Cillian took both of your hands into his and pulled you closer towards him.

‘Exactly. You have no reason to’ Cillian said before pressing his lips onto yours. ‘I am in love with you, no one else’ he added as your lips drifted apart.

‘I am just over this…us hiding our relationship from everyone. Despite, she is clearly taking it a bit far don’t you think?’ you pouted, waiting for Cillian to kiss you again.

‘She is very attentive, that’s for sure’ Cillian chuckled, ignoring your comment and your pout, but deep down inside, he was sick of it too. He didn’t like Amanda’s behaviour and he hated having to hide his feeling for you. He wanted to spend every night with you without guilt or having to worry about getting caught, especially after a long day of filming.

‘You aren’t taking me seriously Cilly’ you pouted again and, just after you did, Cillian pressed his lips back onto yours.

Just as you were sharing another passionate kiss, you heard a knock on the trailer door.

‘Cillian, it’s Amanda. Would you like to grab some lunch?’ she asked, causing you to roll your eyes once again with his lips still on yours.

Cillian pulled away and laughed quietly for a moment before he shouted out ‘Sorry Amanda, I can’t. Y/N and I are rehearsing the next scene’ Cillian said loudly but yet politely.

‘We are?’ you asked, causing Cillian to laugh and nod at the same time.

Amanda left shortly thereafter and, just as she did, you placed your thumb over Cillian’s lips suggestively.

‘Alright, so, let’s rehearse’ you whispered and pulled him even closer towards you. In response, with one swift movement, he sat you up on the trailer’s kitchen bench.

‘You do realise this next scene is between Tommy and Lizzie though, right?’ you smiled.

‘I don’t think Amanda realises’ Cillian chuckled before running both of his hands over your legs.

‘Well, you can think about me later during your takes with Natasha’ you giggled as you ran your hand over his crotch and began unbuckling his belt as he positioned himself in between your legs.

‘What are you doing?’ Cillian asked as you finally reached the zipper of his suit pants. You wouldn’t admit it, but you liked it when he was dressed as Thomas Shelby, in the whole and entire outfit.

‘Claiming what is mine Mr Shelby’ you whispered with a slight giggle, causing Cillian to chuckle.

‘The crew is outside’ Cillian said, trying to push your hand away from his already erect cock.

‘Then we'll have to be quiet, won't we’ you responded before freeing his member slowly.

Cillian lost his composure at that point. As usual, when you showed Cillian your desire for him, he was completely under your control, ready to give you whatever you wanted.

He let out a deep sigh as you began stroking his cock for a moment before jumping down from the counter bench again and bending forward to take him in your mouth.

In response to your wet lips touching his hard cock, Cillian took in another sharp breath. It was hard for him to resist you, almost impossible.

You swirled your tongue over the top half of his hard member before taking him all in right against the back of your throat, testing your gag reflex each time.

‘Fuck’ Cillian moaned as he gave into the sensation and you began to bob your head up and down his long shaft.

You continued that for five minutes and by the you were gushing with wetness and couldn't wait any longer, you needed him inside you.

You broke away from his swollen cock and stood up before turning around leaning forward over the counter, facing the door of trailer.

Without words, Cillian positioned himself behind you and lifted up your skirt gently before pushing down your panties in a haste.

He couldn't stop you from getting what you wanted and he was certainly willing to give it to you now that he was all worked up.

Within seconds, he lined himself up with your wet entrance and pushed forward.

‘Mmm, god damn’ you whispered in blissful joy as he instantly hit your sweet spot. He always felt so good when he entered you, stretching and filling you the way he did.

‘Shhhhhh’ Cillian whispered as he began to move in and out of you slowly.

You adjusted yourself around Cillian’s cock and grounded into him, pushing back against him. You wanted him to take you hard, claim you. He grunted his approval as you started bouncing backwards and, as he pushed forwards with several heavy thrusts, you felt like he was hitting you in the throat with each thrust into your centre.

Cillian held your hips, urging you to bounce harder each time and you almost felt him pushing you into the counter with each thrust.

You knew this had to end quickly and, unlike other times where you would try and draw out your high for as long as possible, you let go as he slammed into you over and over again.

All hell broke loose in your body when Cillian reached between your legs to rub his fingers over your clit at the same time he thrusted into you. Stars shot through your vision and you thought you might pass out from the pleasure. You felt Cillian spasm inside you and a flood of his wet cum started leaking from your core.

Your orgasms washed over you in sync and so were you uncontrolled moans as, all of a sudden, the door to Cillian’s trailer opened.

‘Fuck’ Cillian shouted all of a sudden as he pulled out of you and quickly pulled up his pants.

Luckily, anything other than your upper bodies was covered by the counter front of the kitchenette. Nonetheless, it was obvious to anyone what you were doing as Cillian was leaning over you and his face rested on your neck before the door opened suddenly.

You wanted to sink to the ground with embarrassment right then and there as you saw Finn’s face, flushed and full of questions.

‘Amanda organised some sandwiches for you, saying you were busy rehearsing’ Finn said after he cleared his throat with a slight chuckle.

‘It’s not what it looks like’ you said with an equally flushed face.

‘Sure’ Finn said somewhat angrily as he placed the sandwiches onto the kitchen counter and walked out.

‘This…is bad’ Cillian said to you as Finn left and you nodded with agreement. You knew it was bad and unprofessional.

You pulled up your panties quickly and asked Cillian what he wanted to do now that Finn knew.

‘I will talk to him’ Cillian said just before he followed Finn, not knowing exactly what he would tell him just yet.

It took Cillian several minutes to catch up with Finn who, by that point, was furious about what he saw. Cillian knew that Finn was interested in you and Finn had asked Cillian for help several times, wanting to convince you to go on a date with him, to give him a chance.

‘Can we talk?’ Cillian asked as he finally found Finn down at the docks, preparing for his next scene.

‘So, you can find out who else I might be interested in and take your chances?’ Finn asked angrily as he put down his script.

‘Listen, I know it looks bad but I couldn’t tell anyone about it. I am sure you realise why’ Cillian said, causing Finn to nod.

‘Out of all women here you had to get involved with the one woman I am interested in’ Finn said, still annoyed about Cillian’s actions.

‘It was Y/N who pursued me and didn’t exactly plan for this to happen, falling for a woman half my age. It just happened’ Cillian said as he sat down next to Finn.

‘How long?’ Finn asked curiously.

‘Eight weeks. We’ve been keeping it quiet’ Cillian explained, causing Finn to nod.

‘Right. I feel like an idiot now’ Finn responded.

‘I think it should be me who feels like the idiot’ Cillian responded just as Anthony arrived, getting the area ready for the next scene.

‘Anything wrong?’ Anthony asked, causing Cillian to look at Finn with questions running through his mind.

Finn shook his head before telling Cillian politely that he needed to get ready for his next scene with Paul.

Cillian nodded and thanked Finn for his time before making his way back to you.

‘What did he say?’ you asked, desperately wanting to know where this would leave you and Cillian after the recent encounter.

‘Not much really, but I think we need to make our relationship public’ Cillian sighed.

‘Is he going to tell anyone?’ you asked worried.

‘That he caught us having sex in my trailer? Probably not’ Cillian laughed. ‘But, I think that we should still come clean’ Cillian suggested and you nodded in agreement and it was that same evening, over dinner, that you announced your relationship to the crew and the cast.

To your surprise, it wasn’t a surprise at all to some of your friends and cast members that you were a couple. In fact, Anthony had hatched a bet with one of the other crew members who didn’t believe the rumours.

He won $50 pounds and your best friend was glad to know that she would get the apartment you shared to herself for the next few months until filming wrapped up since, no doubt, you preferred spending your nights with Cillian from now on.

[mythicaldemigoddess-of-deltarune]

A Demon Prince, A Cherub And Monty Python’s Big Fan (2022)

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

Credit for Helluva Boss, Hazbin Hotel & Zoophobia  goes to Vivienne “Vivziepop” Medrano

Credit for Arackniss Audio series goes to Axelgear

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

Damian Beelzly is from Zoophobia, also this is my first fan art of him I think... only I gave him a slightly different outfit in this drawing, as well as gave him a ponytail.

this look of course isn't canon, so don’t expect that outfit and ponytail will be his future look, it is a fanon look only.

and yeah I know he lives in a different universe from Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss, and I don’t blame him for disliking religious cults.

I mean even if some people who are religious aren’t all bad, but there are some that do take things a bit too far, I call them Toxic-Religious....

of course some Toxic-Satanists are added to the list, not just like Toxic-Evangelicals and a few others, I mean the one who made me cry before and wouldn’t freaking listen to reason and kept misusing “may god have mercy on you” or “may the lord have mercy on you.” (I know it was one of the two.) and even if I did FREAKING pointed out how bad it was making me feel, they kept doing it and I to freaking block that insensitive jerk, I mean if someone tells you that your words are hurting them to the point of breaking into tears and is emotionally hurting them.

you don’t keep misusing those words, I mean serious...

I can’t be the only one who sees the problem with that person...

I can be friends with those who are either religious or atheist,

plus I think that no matter if others are religious or atheist or other,

they wouldn’t make me so terrible as that one person did, I forgot the name they went by, but I know that if I ever have a run-in with them here, like I did at the place that the incident happen, I will block them to.

I think that I was still figuring out what type of Nonbinary I was at the time,

and well being more of a between Binary & Nonbinary,

and I’m pretty sure I mention believing in a Goddess, too.

which I just call “Earthly Mother” now, and I do believe in the Heavenly Father as well....but I think if I remember right, that person who kept misusing those words at me, said those words because I was open by my new found belief.

and even if I did try to get through to them, and try to make them understand how much they were hurting me, they kept doing it and making it worse.

it’s good to have some form of beliefs, but you can’t just block out well the whole hurting someone’s feelings really badly, like they don’t matter as much as your faith.

a person can hold on to faith, but there can be a toxic side that we all should be careful of.....and that jerk of a butt-head was clearly not at all.

wouldn’t surprise me if they don that kind of thing to others.

 anyway  Cherub OC is Transgender and a Nonbinary-Man, he is also Pansexual.

I don't know what name I should give them, or what dead-name they would of had before.

I will need to think about it, but I do know that before they became who they truly felt on the inside,

they were unhappy and had to go with being called "She/Her" even though it upset them and yet they couldn't understand why.

it wasn't until they met Lizzie Eveningstar, that they found out that they were a

Nonbinary-Man on the inside.

they go by both They/Them & He/Him, so that is their pronouns.

when I draw them again, I might have a name for them by then.

this would be my second drawing with Lizzie Eveningstar,

once again the reason why I picked Lizzie, is because I wanted something that rhymed with Charlie and Vaggie.

I at first thought of drawing Montgomery writing a Autograph for Lizzie,

but then decide to go with her just thinking about him and admiring how awesome he is.

I just thought I would add the scars on Montgomery Python,

even the whole looking like he lost a eye, making him a one eye snake demon.

to point out, Lizzie is NOT in love with Monty, she just admires him and loves how he has a good heart and honor.

 and well I think the idea I want for Lizzie, is that she died a Virgin.

the drawing before this one, shows a little info in her thought bubble.

like how it was Blitz that killed her by mistake, thinking she was target.

she was wearing a bikini when she died and she was at Verosika’s Concert at the Beach, but was the only human not being under Verosika or her posse’s charm.

I went with the idea that her blood type keeps her safe, but it doesn’t mean she can’t still fall into a much stronger charm, but I guess if she has a strong enough will, she might be able to break free from the charm, maybe...?

I decided to have her blood type be O RH D Negative, as well as the idea that when after she was born, her Dad almost killed her but her Mom saved her, but Lizzie ends up in a Orphan after her Mom was found dead, which was caused by her Dad (who was in Hell at the time because Lizzie’s Mom killed him on the day Lizzie was born) hired a unknown hit-man to kill his wife.

this of course was before I.M.P, I don’t think they would of been formed yet, so the one who killed Lizzie’s Mom couldn’t of been Blitz, Millie, Moxxie or Loona.

 the surname that Lizzie had before she died at Verosika’s Concert,

 will be left unknown, but her adoptive surname she chooses is Eveningstar.

once again like I said before, the whole “Eveningstar” is suppose to be ironic.

my Mom never got Morning sickness with me, and only got evening sickness.

so I let that be the Crossover OC’s new surname.

anyway I’m going to write the theory that has to with Toriel of Undertale.

I wanted to post that first after the first drawing I did of Lizzie Eveningstar,

but I had to sign out for a little bit, and then I had to do another drawing of Lizzie and even drew Montgomery Python, and even Damian from Zoophobia, and I even made another OC in the form of a Cherub.

I wonder who would win in a fight though,

Montgomery from the Arackniss Audio series

or Montgomery Gator from Five Nights At Freddy’s Security Breach...?              

it might be a tie, knowing how strong those two are...

also once again, like it says in the drawing before this one, that has both Lizzie and a Robo-Fizzarolli in it...

Lizzie died when she was in her Third Year of College, and she was 21 years old when Blitz killed her by mistake....of course him killing her would be just fanon only, because Lizzie only exist in the fanon timeline.

her height didn’t change when she ended up falling into hell,

 she is also suppose to be shorter than Arackniss, she could possibly be taller than Niffty, I don’t know how tall she is but I can only guess...

I’m listening to that Valentino song right now, it is really good.

you could of sworn that it really is about Valentino from Hazbin Hotel,

I know there is fan animation that has Angel and Vox singing that song.

anyway I’m going to get to work on writing that theory about Toriel now.           

[deepdonutkid]

Can I ask for multiple character break downs?👀

Well if I can, then would you please do one for Ada and one for Tommy and one for John

But if only one has to be done, then you can choose any one of these.

Thanks! <3

Thanks for the ask! 💞

Ada Thorne nee Shelby

How I feel about this character

Just love for her! She is adorable, strong, fierce, absolutely amazing! Ada and Polly are the best developed female character on the show. Mainly, because Tommy can’t fuck them, so they can’t be reduced to his love interest, which is such a good thing, because I love strong women. Makes me weak in my knees.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Freddie Thorne, Ben Younger, Jessie Eden, because Ada is bi, she just gives off that vibe, u know.

Somehow I prefer to read stuff with a female reader for her, more than a male reader for her. Because it’s either Freddie x Ada for me or Ada x female reader.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Lizzie, Polly, Ada and Linda are an amazing combination! She and Tommy have an interesting dynamic as well! I would have loved to see more John and Ada interactions, because they have not such a big age gap inbetween, so I think they are close. Especially after Ada got her child and John got married with Esme. Oh, Ada and Esme would have sooo much fun together. Esme would be like the sister Ada never had.

My unpopular opinion about this character

I think her character changed a lot between season 1 and 2, because of Freddie’s death and also after she joined the business again. Sometimes when I make memes or the alignment charts, I have two icons for her, one from first season and one from third season, because I think she is one of the characters who changed the most through the series. First season Ada would do a lot of things different and more naive than third season Ada. Mainly, because she still believed in communism in season 1 and she somehow lost her faith after losing Freddie. Which is super understandable tho.

She acutally becomes wiser with age... unlike her brothers, who just do the same shit over and over again.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I wished Ben hadn’t died, because they kill her lovers even fast than Tommys. WTF, right?

On the other hand I wished Ada talked some sense into Jessie, to NOT SLEEP WITH TOMMY THE WHORE SHELBY! Because Ada knows her brother very well and I think she genuinely liked Jessie, or she liked her enough to save her from the pain of being Tommy’s toy or pleasure doll.

And I’m still bitter about the way they killed of Freddie... but more about that later...

Tommy Shelby

How I feel about this character

Relationship status: It’s complicated!

Yes, well, I ramble about Tommy’s shit a lot. I know! He is still an intersting character and it’s so tempting to think about his actions in certain situations, but if I would meet him as a person- I would hate him from the bottom of my heart! <3

He is such an asshole all the time and when I first watched the show, I forgave him a lot he did to his siblings, because I was caught up with his good looks and the presentation of him being the good guy who does bad things to survive. But I spend some time to think about his actions and I noticed, he is an awful human being... to Polly, to his siblings, to his lover and actually to everyone. He might think he does all those mean things to archive a bigger goal, but he is just a gambling addict who can’t stop taking risks he isn’t even prepared for.

Shitty things Tommy has done over time:

Forcing his brother to marry somebody, John didn’t even know at that time, to end a feud, Tommy had started himself and only when it was in his favour to end it, he used John as pawn, so he could archive his plan. HOW FUCKED UP WAS THAT? Nobody seems to talk about this. It was fucking awful! And the way he did it was horrible to! Tommy said nothing to John until the very last moment, when they were already surrounded by enemies, so John couldn’t said no. It also shows, that Tommy thinks he is above his siblings. Tommy thought John wasn’t capable of chosing a wife for himself, so Tommy did that for him too. Even when John didn’t ask for this at all!

Destroying Ada’s relationship with Freddie and chasing his best friend out of town, just because... TOMMY WAS AGAINGST HIS SISTER HAVING A RELATIONSHIP. and yet he proclaimes to listen to woman and to give them a fair change. Maybe just not for our dear Ada!

Destroying Arthur’s marriage, because he kept dragging Arthur into shit, he wasn’t mentally stable enough for. Putting thoughts of rejecting Linda into Arthur’s head, by talking bad about Linda and making jokes about her any given time.

Sleeping with Lizzie over and over again, even when he knew she loved him and when she tried to get over him by dating someone new, he made the order to burn down the pub of Angel, humilated his family, and have him killed later.

Sleeping with Jessie, so he could use her

Humiliate Polly, when she was at her lowest, after Rueben had left her

Drag Michael into the illegal business after Polly begged him not to

Dragging Finn into all this shit after John died, because John wasn’t avaiable anymore

Calling Grace a whore, when they first met

Paying Lizzie in his head, even after she stopped being a sex worker

Helping a fascist

I could go on for a while, but you see my point here!

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Nobody! I want to see him miserable and alone! Honestly I’m never going to read all these soft!Tommy fics or whatever, because they really don’t interest me. I don’t want to see him happy.

But go have fun people and write and read whatever you want!

My non-romantic OTP for this character

Tommy and Lizzie, because they have a sexual relationship, which is not based on romance and I love this sad and depressing dynamic between them. It’s so interesting to write and read about.

Tommy and Ada are great in the show. I love their talks and Ada actually points out when Tommy is acting like a douche again.

My unpopular opinion about this character

I have a lot... where should I start?

I get so annoyed, when I see Tommy shown as a twink, because the actor is just 1,70m... which is not small to me. I know a lot of men around that height and I think they are average and not small. Also a lot of men feel bad for not being tall enough, because everywhere in our society it’s normal to have a tall man and a small woman. And the way tall man or small man are sexualized in this alpha/omega thing or in a top/bottom dynamic is so... meh. It’s really uncomfortable to see how people try to push the patriarchal man-woman dynamic into same-sex relationships.

Tommy is a class traitor and a horrible husband.

Man, I could rant for hours, but I stop right here. Just remember, please don’t feel attacked, I don’t mean to attack you. Even if you write or draw... whatever with Tommy, I would never say something bad about this. Enjoy creating Tommy content, I will love to ignore it!

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

I was so disappointed when they killed Freddie, because those two could have had an interesting and compelling relationship. Freddie could have been a great frenemie. I put this here and on on Ada, because their marriage wouldn’t changed the plot as much as Freddies and Tommys friendship. Tommy would have been a way better person, if Freddie was around.

John Shelby

How I feel about this character

MY HUSBAND! I love him and he has never done anything wrong in his life.

Nah, John has many faults, but I still adore him as a character, because his faults are actually making the plot more interesting. I also read, that he and Tommy fight a lot, because John is more moral and has way more integrity than his older brother. It was just hinted in the show, but I love this side fact and I will base my whole characterisation this.

I love to write, draw and read stuff with him. He is my favorite character from Peaky blinders and my love will never die, even though he did.

Funny tho, when I first watched PB, I adored Tommy and was annoyed by John, but as I rewatched it I changed my mind about those two.

He had so much potential and I would spend all my money, which is not much, but the devotions counts, to see a spin-off with just John and his army of children.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

Esme, because they are sooo cute together!

My OFC, because I love writing them.

Any reader, because I’m a sucker for John.

My non-romantic OTP for this character

All kinds of interactions with other characters and John are great! My favorite is John and Ada to be honest. But here are other dynamics I adore as well:

John & Polly, (she would help him a lot with the kids)

John & Arthur (they come to the garrison to drink and play cards, they talk a lot about their problems, deep bond here)

John & Tommy (in my head they are always fighting)

John & Lizzie, because they have a great friendship, and they helped each other a lot. She spend time with the kids and he gave her financial support, so she would quit her job, which she didn’t do, because she feared being all alone again, and she has trust issues) (I’m actually writing a fic about these two)

John & his kids (I’m soft for dad!John)

John & Michael (especially in season three, because John seems to be jealous of Michael)

My unpopular opinion about this character

John is not completely stupid. Well, he is certainly not smart, but he works in the betting shop, and Arthur does not, or not really, because Arthur is bad at math... John at least knows his numbers. And also Tommy chose him to be the legal bookie over the others, so John must do a good job there. He just never got a degree or something similar like Michael. Which is also a reason, why John seems to be bitter about Michael joining the business. Michael was put in a higher position than he did.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

This one is obvious... John should have survived.

[hb-writes]

A Little Raven

Written in response to Hauntober prompt #15: Raven.

Summary: From the Little Lady Blinder universe! A chat between sisters-in-law followed by a chat between Lizzie and Tommy. This is a bit long and self-indulgent and might not be particularly consistent with canon but oh well. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Characters Featured: Lizzie Shelby, Clara Shelby (Shelby!Sister), Tommy Shelby

—–

“Frances said you wanted me first?” 

Lizzie turned from the window, allowing the passage of a brief smile as she glanced at her sister-in-law. Like her husband, Lizzie still saw a couple of kids when she looked at Clara and Finn, still saw the little girl who passed her time with books and papers while sitting on the stoop at Watery Lane, still saw the boy with a keen eye for mischief and a disposition towards unsanctioned sweets. She supposed those visions still held true. None of them were so different to be unrecognizable through the years. Some traits endured the transition to adulthood, no matter what transpired in the interim. 

Clara stripped out of her coat, placing it over the back of the chair before following Lizzie’s gaze out to the yard where Ruby and Charles played with the nanny, their squeals and laughter sharp and clear through the pane of the closed window. 

Clara sat in one of the armchairs, pulling her feet up and working on untying her boot laces while she waited. She was used to the reticent moments, used to people taking their time in revealing why she’d been summoned somewhere in the first place. She found it a pleasant change for Lizzie to be inviting her to the drawing-room for a visit rather than Tommy summoning her to his office for one of his chats, even if her sister-in-law was very clearly preoccupied.  

The thud of Clara’s shoes hitting the floor as she slipped them off her feet pulled Lizzie’s eyes towards her for a moment before she settled them on the girl’s discarded boots, understated but still expensive, something Tommy had probably paid for. 

Lizzie wasn’t ignoring her on purpose, Clara knew that. She was just distracted, caught up in her own thoughts, turning something over in her mind. Clara just wasn’t certain how she fit into those thoughts.

“Lizzie?” Clara said.

“Mmm?” Lizzie hummed, finally fixing her eyes on Clara.

“You did ask for me, right?” Clara said. 

“I suppose you’d prefer to go be with the children,” Lizzie mused. “Or to go say hello to your brother?” 

“Is he home already?” Clara asked, glancing down at the small watch on her wrist as she adjusted the clock face. It was barely past five.

Lizzie scoffed, gave a single shake of her head. Tommy was eternally late in coming home, and habitually premature in leaving it.

“Well, that leaves more time for us to catch up, then,” Clara offered, absently kneading the arch of her foot. “I came home to be with all of you, Lizzie.”

“Right, all of us,” Lizzie answered, sitting down in an adjacent armchair. “When’s the last time you saw all of us here, Clara? When’s the last time he graced us with his presence at a decent hour?”

It was the previous Sunday, Clara remembered, and he’d come out of his office just before dinner, played with Charles and Ruby a bit before eating with Clara, Lizzie, and the kids, but Clara had the feeling Lizzie didn’t want to be reminded of that.

“Did you talk to him?” Clara asked.

Lizzie took a deep breath and nearly gagged, feeling as though she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from conjuring up the contents of her latest meal, the sick feeling in her stomach beyond the typical bout of morning sickness, more of a nauseating dread which had settled in the pit of her stomach.

The last time she’d been here, in this condition, Lizzie had been optimistic. Nearly five years later, she felt anything but. And despite all the strength she’d decided on summoning, despite deciding to stay, to accept Tommy and his faults, to balance her head against her heart, she hadn’t planned on this as a part of the deal.

‘A little you and me,’ she’d offered Tommy when she’d told him of the first baby growing inside of her, a smile on her face, a bit of hope in her heart. 

She had little hope this time, little positivity about the life prospects for yet another child of Thomas Shelby, a little boy nonetheless, a little raven-haired boy who would have his parents’ blue eyes, his father’s strong jaw, the unmistakable markings of a Shelby.

If Tommy had kept all of his promises, if he’d done right and put a proper stop to the sport for anyone named Shelby. If he’d kept Finn and Clara away from the life, Lizzie might have thought differently. She might have felt nothing but happiness at the prospect of another child with a little tuft of raven hair and bright blue eyes, but in half a decade, Tommy had dealt her plenty of empty assurances.

She feared enough for the children already. Her Ruby was a different child around her father, a bit nervous, a bit quiet. The girl didn’t know the same Tommy that Clara and Finn knew, nor the father Charlie had had for a time, at least while he was young.

This baby would never know that version of Tommy either, not really. Her children would spend their lives distant from the man they called dad, and there was part of Lizzie that didn’t think it to be a terrible thing.

Clara reached out to clasp Lizzie’s hand. “Lizz--”

“Polly says it’s a boy.”

“Oh,” Clara answered, pulling her hand back. “That’s--”

Lizzie cleared her throat and continued. “A little raven-haired boy named James.” She opened her cigarette case, placed the fag between her lips. “Jamie,” she added. “And no, I haven’t told your brother.” 

Clara frowned. She was tired of holding the secret she’d accidentally overheard when Lizzie confided in Polly. She was tired of pretending with her brother, tired of avoiding him. It wasn’t easy work, withholding information from him because, despite the best of Clara’s efforts, Tommy possessed an uncanny ability to know when his sister was keeping something from him. 

“He loves being a father, Lizzie. He’ll be--”

“Happy?” she suggested. “I’m less worried about your brother being happy than I am worried for all of you kids.” 

“All of us?”

Lizzie lit the cigarette, puffing before she pointed it at Clara.

“Yes, you and Finn are included.”

“There’s nothing to worry about, Lizzie.” 

“Right, with Finn running around getting himself shot and you--”

“What about me?”

“Neither one of you kids has a healthy sense of self-preservation, always pushing when you haven’t a need, and you’ve passed it right on to those two. Maybe it’s in the blood, an inherited recklessness that--” 

“Is that really what you’re worried about? That I’ve taught the kids to stand up for themselves and I’ll teach the baby the same?” Clara asked.

Lizzie glanced out the window again, the things she was truly scared about swirling in her mind while she watched Ruby and Charles holding hands as they went round in circles.

“It’s a bad omen, a raven,” she said.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Clara answered. “A baby can’t be a bad omen.”

Lizzie was beginning to believe that the Shelby name was a curse and that despite her husband’s promises, not one of the kids would live a life unmarred by it, not Finn, not Clara, not Charles nor Ruby, and not the unborn son growing in her womb. And despite knowing Thomas Shelby loved the children, she feared what she already knew to be true, that loving a person wasn’t always enough.

These days, Tommy’s moments of softness were harder to come by. The types of moments Clara held on to when her brother was difficult, the moments that reminded her through the tough spots that he did much of what he did out of love, for protection or survival. Lizzie didn’t know her children would have that, didn’t know that a raven-haired boy looking just like his father could ever garner as much care as he’d deserve from the man, enough of the affection that he would need to someday to get through the tough spots. 

“He’s not how he once was with you,” Lizzie said.

“He’s not been like that for a long while, Lizzie, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love them.” 

“I know he loves them, loves all of you, but I worry someday they won’t have memories enough to forgive him as you do.” 

“I don’t forgive him because of the memories, Lizzie,” Clara answered. “I forgive him because he’s nearly my father and because I know he cares for me as much as I care for him. Ruby and Charles know that. Jamie will, too.”

Clara joined Lizzie on the couch. “And regardless, you care for us all well enough whether that fool joins us for dinner or not.”

Lizzie set her cigarette down in the tray and accepted Clara’s offered hug, allowing herself to release a breath of relief with the girl in her arms. 

“Well, that may be, but it doesn’t settle my nerves about you and Finn,” Lizzie said as she pulled away.

Clara rolled her eyes. “You’ve not--”

“Glad I’m not the only one concerned.” 

Clara glanced at her watch again before looking at Tommy where he stood by the door. “You’ve actually come early?”

He nodded. “Someone had Adam make it very clear in my diary that I was meant to be home at a respectable hour today.” 

Clara hummed, feigning an impressed surprise, as though she hadn’t begged Tommy’s personal secretary at the commons to adjust his schedule to accommodate him being back in Warwickshire so early on a Friday evening. 

“Right. I think I’ll leave you two and go say hello to Charlie and Ruby while we wait on Finn,” Clara offered, slipping past Tommy on her way to the door. 

“Forgetting something, Clara?”

Clara turned back to him, snatching the forgotten boots from his outstretched hand.

“When our brother gets in, we can have a talk about your excursion in London on Tuesday evening, eh?”

Clara sighed. “I think we’re a bit old for a lecture, Tommy. It was nothing.”

“Seems like you two idiots’ll never be too old for a lecture,” he answered. “But go on. Go see the kids. I’m sure they’ve been asking after you all day.” 

Tommy watched his sister leave before taking the seat beside his wife. “Now, while we wait for Finn, you and I can have a talk about that baby you’ve got growing inside you, eh Lizzie?”

Lizzie scoffed. "Polly told you then? Or was it Clara?”

Tommy shook his head. Of course, his sister knew. He cleared his throat. 

“It was actually you, Lizzie,” he said, taking her hand in his. “Been eating honey on everything. Last time you did that was when you were pregnant with our Ruby.” 

Lizzie nodded, looked out at the kids again, saw Clara had joined Ruby and Charles, and the three of them were laughing like a set of maniacs as they ran about the lawn.

“You’re worried,” Tommy offered, guiding his wife’s face to his. “Let me into that head of yours, Lizzie.” 

She leaned into his touch as he cupped her cheek, allowed herself that comfort.  

“To clear it out?” she mumbled.

Tommy nodded. “To clear it out. Just like we agreed.” 

Lizzie placed her hand on top of his.

“Ruby’ll be asking after another sister.”

“Well, she’ll be disappointed then,” Lizzie answered. “It’s a boy.”

Tommy nodded. There was a time when he thought it mattered, back when boys became blinders and girls were considered liabilities but Tommy had stopped thinking that way, started thinking that Lizzie was right. And Grace had been right. There was only one way to keep them all safe.

“Either way,” he answered. “Another little you and me, eh?”

Lizzie nodded and Tommy pulled his eyes away at the approaching footsteps and laughter as Ruby and Charlie piled into the room.

“Daddy! Daddy!”

“And what have you lot been up to, eh?” Tommy asked, pulling Ruby into his lap as Charlie came to sit beside them.

“We’ve been playing, daddy!” Ruby said.

“Dad, Aunt Clara said she and Uncle Finn are ready for a shouting at whenever you are,” Charlie said. “They went to your office.”

Tommy shook his head, glanced quickly at Lizzie before he looked back to his boy. 

“What are you going to shout at them for, daddy?” Ruby asked, turning her head to look up at him.

“Don’t you worry about that, sweetheart,” Tommy answered.

“He’s gonna shout because they’ve been naughty,” Charles said to his sister. 

“Don’t shout very much, daddy,” Ruby answered. “It’ll ruin our supper.” 

“I’m not going to shout. We’re just going to have a talk about them setting a better example for you kids.”

“And then we’ll have supper?” Ruby asked.

“Then supper, Ruby,” he said. “I had Frances ask chef to make a special honey cake for dessert.”

“For mummy?” Ruby asked. “Mummy loves honey cake.” 

“And for your baby brother,” Lizzie answered, pulling Ruby’s hand to rest on her stomach. “The one growing in my belly.”

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Read more Little Lady Blinder stories here.

[jamiedc-they-them]

All You Got (Platonic)

Requested Imagine: can i get hope mikaelson x reader where hope helps reader out of a rough time, maybe a depressive episode, B

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Was the sun shining through? You had no idea. All you knew was that, according to your beeping clock, it was time to get up and go to class. You sighed, just wanting the clock to stop so that you could go back to sleep once again.

Were you pathetic? Yeah, you were. You couldn’t even get out of bed; just lying there and hoping to fall back asleep. You knew that going was a bad idea, with the way you looked and the absolute fact that you hadn’t done the homework that was due, so that would just result in more ridicule.

You felt bad for…. fuck it, you’d forgotten the name. No, that was bad, you can’t just forget a name of someone trying to help you, fucking idiot.

You closed your eyes, hoping to go back to the land of nothing. Maybe it would be kind of ironic. Or maybe it would make everyone forget, that was the truth of it though; you didn’t deserve your family. None of them.

 “Hey, Hope.” Josie greeted, stopping by her friend who was sat on a table, looking at a book. It took a moment for your sister to realise who was there.

She rose her head, seeing Josie and smiled, “Hey, Josie.” She returned the greeting, but immediately went back to the book.  Josie looked at her friend with a puzzled look. Looking over her shoulder, she saw that she was looking at it desperately, looking over spells.

“Studying?” The Saltzman asked.

“Already did the homework,” She held it up for her friend and sister figure to see, “This is for Y/N.” There, now the cat was out of the bag.

`Hope….” Josie was cut off by said girl.

“He – He’s having another episode.” Hope’s voice trembled a little as she spoke. She knew you had been dealing with this for a while, but you were pretty much all she had left; she couldn’t lose you, the answer had to be in here somewhere.

“Hope,” This time, Josie closed the book. Hope looked at her friend with a pissed off expression. Now, if it were any normal circumstance, she wouldn’t even dream of doing what she had just done. But it was you, her best friend that just happened to be the brother of her other best friend. You both were family, so she would do this if the tables were flipped.

“Hope, we need to get him to see Emma.” Josie hated seeing anyone in pain; friends, lovers, crushes, anyone really. You had been out of action for a while; and, while she understood Hope’s worry and sisterly concern, there was a time and place for her to take charge.

“We can’t –” Hope was now the one being cut off.

“Emma can help him, Hope –”

“I can!” Your sister stubbornly argued.

“You can, I’m not saying you can’t. What I’m saying is that there is only so much you can do without someone else stepping in. You don’t Lizzie started those sessions on her own, do you? I helped her get them. He needs them.” Josie was begging at this point for her friend to see facts.

She didn’t, however, “We’ve been through this before, Josie. I know that you guys are here too if we need it, and I am appreciative of that, really. But I know what I’m doing here, ok?” It was almost as if those words were meant to try and trick herself into believing them.

“Hope,” Said girl turned to the teacher, “I need you to talk to your brother as soon as you can, please. He’s been missing out on a lot of classes and essays.

There was rage for the woman. She, rationally, knew that the woman wouldn’t really know unless someone told her. But, still, you were going through something, and the teacher was acting as if it was nothing.

Josie, however, seemed to know that her friend, once crush, now sisterly figure was about to fight back. She put a hand on her shoulder and spoke to the teacher instead of Hope, “We will, thank you.” Her words seemed to satisfy the teacher, as she nodded and then walked away.

“He hasn’t been out of his room?” Hope asked in concern. She could’ve sworn that she had seen you in lessons. Then again, she was hardly awake herself in them, what with saving the world and your friends and all.

“Not in a few days, no. Lizzie and I have been bringing him so food. But…we don’t know if he’s eaten it. It’s gone when we come back, so something with it happens.” Josie said, although in a slow pace, trying to gage the reaction of her friend.

“God. Ok, I’ll go see him –”

“Hope, no! He needs more than that, he needs someone like Emma.”

“Yeah? Look how well that went for me, huh? Miss Nihilism was my name whenever I spoke to her.”

“She didn’t give you that though –”

“Yeah, but she said I always came in with that attitude. I’m not subjecting Y/N to that too. Not when he’s going through this.” Josie went to say something but stopped herself. She knew that this would just end up going in circles, and your recovery was what mattered; even if the pair disagreed on how to make that happen.

“Is the door locked?” Hope questioned.

“I think so, but you both have spares remember?”

“I know. Look, Josie, I appreciate this, but I will make sure Y/N is fine, ok? I promise you.” And, with that, your older sister left to find you.

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Josie was Hope’s best friend, and with that came a deep level of trust. Both sides knew that the other had their back no matter what and their best interests at heart. But that came with some crossed lines and some things that the other would be mad about.

This was one of those things.

Josie knocked lightly on the door of her father’s office, waiting until she heard the welcoming words before she entered.

“Josie, what’s going on?” The father asked with a smile. However, upon her dejected and uneasy look, the smile dropped, “What’s going on?” He asked.

 “Y/N, it’s me.” Hope didn’t get any response. She knocked again, getting the exact same response. She went to do it again, before she remembered the spare key. She pulled it out of her pocket, looking at the door one more time.

She then put the key into the door and turned it until she heard the click and the bump of the door unlocking. The door then unlocked.

Opening the door, she was met with darkness, other than the very small amount of light from the window. She moved her hand to the light switch, turning it slightly so there was a bit of light, but not a blinding amount.

That was an adjustment to your room that Lizzie had asked for, which she knew that you both appreciated. As much as she could snap at you guys, you were her friends. With the way Alaric treated you both and all you had gone through as a group; you were basically family.

Hope was silent in her entry of the room; she saw your figure still in bed. Your room was a mess, but that was understandable.

She was silent as she picked up one of your fallen trousers, folding them up and then putting them back in the correct draw. She was silent as she picked up a shirt and shook to try and get rid of some of the creases, before hanging it up in the wardrobe.

She put your shoes back against the wall and continued folding the clothes and putting them away. The whole time you didn’t react, you didn’t talk. However, it didn’t matter to her, she knew how to help you. She knew that talking would help but trying to force it with pointless questions would do no good.

She cleaned the table, just a simple wet cloth did the job. She knew that spells wouldn’t fix you, so this wouldn’t either.

Plus, the physical effort would help her get tired out and help her when she joined you in the bed. It was a tactic she used to use; share a bed and put a protective arm around you to keep you safe and show you her support.

She wiped it clean, before filling up a glass for you and placing it on the table.

Then she rose the covers and laid in bed next to you; you faced the wall; she faced the ceiling. She smiled a small amount at the scorch mark that still remained, “I remember that. When you were trying to control fireballs, as you called them. You remember that?” Her voice was light and soft, airy even.

It as one she didn’t use a lot, most of the time there was some kind of sarcastic wit or even malice to it. She only reserved this tone for those she really cared about. You, as her brother, her younger brother, you were on the top of that list.

Plus, she knew one thing from Emma, raising your voice was not a great idea when trying to help.

“Hm.” Was your response. It wasn’t much; it wasn’t anything, but you were slightly engaging rather than not at all. That was something.

“I’ve…. I’ve got the homework for the class done; I can help you with it if you want?” She offered, trying to find something to show her support without going down the bad choices; namely the why and the I know what you’re going through.

“Like everything else in my fucking life?” You were still monotone, but the words had some spite to them.

“What do you mean?” She asked, thinking that this would be a time to vent.

“Ever since Klaus came home with me, covered in my blood parents’…. well, you can guess, you said that you wanted to help and protect me. Anytime I needed homework done, there you were. Anytime I got picked on, you kicked their ass.”

“You don’t think I should’ve, I’m always going to look out for you, little brother.” She had meant the words; they had come out passionately and on instinct.

“It’s not about whether you should it or not, it’s about whether I deserve the help.”

 “I just…I didn’t know who else to turn to.” Josie had been venting, worried sick about if this was even the correct decision to make. She knew, that maybe in the long run it would be a net positive, but would the negatives of right now be too much?

“Josie, honey,” She looked to her father, whose face had softened at her anxious face, “You’re one of the most caring people I know. And, I’m not just saying that as your father. You’re proving it by being here and talking to me about this –”

“But what if Hope is –”

“Hope might have a reaction at first, but she’ll always do what’s right for Y/N. Just as any of us would and will.” Alaric assured his daughter.

 She had raised her voice once during the words exchanged, it had become a bit heated on her end; she wouldn’t take anyone speaking ill of her family, but hearing you say it about yourself made it worse for her.

“How about we go eat? Or take a walk. We don’t even have to be gone for that long?” She asked, moving off the bed and crouching down to your level. The two of you finally met eyes, she is seeing the dull look in your own gaze.

She held out her hand, keeping her eyes locked with you and hoping that the love and concern she had for you were being communicated through both the dark and her own gaze.

Slowly, your hand went into her own one. She pulled the covers back, slowly helping you up and holding it the whole time as she went to the door.

Opening it, she felt your hand tighten the grip on her own one. She gave it a gentle squeeze back, opening the door at a slower pace, when it fully opened, she led you out.

She had you out, that was something, it was a small amount of progress. She would make good on her promise for only being out for a moment.

“Hope,” You both turned to Josie, whose gaze lost a bit of the conviction in them when she saw you out and about, “Hey, Y/N.” She greeted in a softer tone of voice; you gave a very week smile.

She then turned back to Hope, “I told my dad, he’s making arrangements for –”

“You WHAT?!” She squeezed your hand as a silent apology, “No one else has to know, Josie –”

“They already do know! Everyone does, it’s not a secret of what Y/N is going through. It’s not some curse, Hope. It is an illness, and we just want to help –”

“And I am, like I told you. I’m sorry, Josie, but I’ve got him.” Hope assured, pushing past her friend and bringing you with her. However, she then paused and turned back, “But, I’ll call you if I need you.”

When she turned back, two questions rang in her mind: Did she really have you? And: was she the only one who could help you?

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She didn’t release the hold on your hand, in fact, she had tightened it a bit as that very question still spun around her head. She was scared of the answer, of the answer that may be a possibility.

The answer of “no”.

Entering the kitchen, she saw that the close was clear. This, for once, was going well. She pulled you in, pulling you out a chair and sitting you in it, “I’m gonna make us a sandwich and get you a drink, I’ll be right back.” She assured you, before going to do just that.  

As she got the plates, she looked back at you. You hadn’t moved, you hadn’t spoken, you looked entirely defeated; you looked sad; you looked like you were done; you looked like you were holding in a lot of pain and not letting it allowed to be seen.

It hurt her, it did, truly. You were her brother, and she as an older sister had always been protective of you, always had been and probably always would be. That was the truth.

However, now it seemed to be a more tragic then loving truth.

 “What did she say?” Lizzie had now joined the discussion, sitting on her father’s desk as the man himself sat in his chair. Josie entered, almost a bit blindsided by the bluntness of the question; the again, it was Lizzie. And this was a Lizzie that was scared for a friend, so Josie knew the questions would only get blunter the more she delayed the answers.

“She said she appreciated it, but still took him to the kitchen. She’s trying.” She said, seemingly defending her friend while also berating her for not fully taking the advice on board.

“Look, Jo,” Lizzie said, approaching her sister and grasping her arms gently, “I get that you want what’s best for the two. I get wanting to help out Y/N before he falls to the dark side and takes Hope with him,” Ok, she did regret the way she phrased, she even stopped and closed her eyes with a sigh, “What I meant, is I don’t want Y/N to spiral and for this to have a knock on effect on Hope.”

“Honey, we understand what you mean,” Alaric said, assuring his other daughter, “We all want what’s best for Y/N. Hope does too, she’s just…. protective.”

“She’s stupid, Y/N needs to see someone, just like I have to. It’s not the best, speaking your darkest thoughts to a stranger, sure. But it’s better than our minds fully ruining us. It’s got us screwed up –”

“You aren’t screwed up, sweetheart.” The father was slightly hurt by the words coming from his daughter about both herself and you.

“We are dad. But…. we’re trying. I just don’t think Hope fully knows how hard we are trying.”

 Hope put the plate in front of you, leaning on the other side of the counter, watching you intently as you, “Just a bit of it will do. You need to eat something.” She said, trying to hide the slight quiver in her voice.

You looked at it again, before looking at her, you seemed to do a slight eye roll (not putting in the effort for the whole thing) but it got the point across. You picked it up, taking a small bit, before swallowing it.

She smiled timidly; it was something. It was better than you either skipping out on those meals Josie and Lizzie had left or eating too much.

“You know Josie and Lizzie left stuff?” She asked you, trying to start a kind of dialogue with you. To be honest, it was something she had missed with you, the way you both could seem to just talk for hours about the absolute square root of jack shit.

You nodded, taking yet another bite out of your sandwich, “You know when you threw yourself into the pit, I thought I was the only weirdo here, right?”

The words were sharp, and they did sting, “I thought, “Shit, I’m the heir to the Mikaelson throne, and I’m sat here being a fucking bitch.” And then you showed back up, my sister who was apparently the actual blood daughter of my – our, parents. I mean, shit, how could I ever top that, huh? The blood daughter of Klaus Mikaelson,” You gave a sarcastic clap, “Hero to us all, saviour of us all. How in the ever-living fuck, could I ever amount to that legacy?”

You got up, leaving the sandwich, and storming over to your sister, “You know what? I am done. You want the burden off your shoulders? Consider it removed. I’m done with the fucking looks; I’m done with the pity glances whenever we’re going anywhere together. I am done and I am tired of you constantly chasing my useless ass around and pretending to give half a shit. I’m done.” You spat, storming past her, but she heard the sob that left you as you went.

 She couldn’t fight the tears anymore, her sob was silent, but the tears still ran down her face as she put a hand to her mouth to try and contain it all. She slowly slipped down to a sitting position on the floor, back pressed against the table as she silently cried. She had lost you; you were probably going to revoke your own name and leave and never be heard from again. You were –

“Hey,” She turned to see Josie. The girl sat next to her, “Y/N’s talking to my dad and Lizzie, he’s wanting to leave,” Josie knew that these words wouldn’t help, but she knew that Hope would still want an update.

“I just wanted to help him,” The -now maybe- single Mikaelson sobbed. Josie put her arms around the girl and hugged her, Hope putting her arms on the girl’s arm, “I just thought – maybe I could help him through this like I have before.” She hiccupped a few times but got the words out.

“Lizzie’s talking to him, I came here to check on you…. I think you both need someone to talk to. Not just a friend, but I think you both need Emma –” Hope was quick to interrupt.

“I’m not talking to her again, not after how I snapped at her last time. Y/N wouldn’t fair good there either.”

“You know she didn’t take it personally, right? Yes, it’s her job to listen, but she also cares, Hope.”

“…. I know. I just don’t want Y/N to think I’m not trying to help him.” Hope admitted, a rare moment of full on vulnerability.

“He knows you do, Hope. He knows, and he appreciates it so much. It’s just –”

“There’s a time for me or you guys to help, and a time for someone with more knowledge to help?” Hope filled in for her friend.

“Exactly. Do you wanna see him?” Josie asked tentatively.

Hope thought about it, before she nodded.  

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She took a breath, one that was admittedly shaky. She felt a hand grasp hers, turning, she saw that it was Josie.

Josie gave her friend a supportive smile, a silent, “you’ve got this”.

Armed with that bit of wisdom, she opened the door. Any conversation in the room that was going on had stopped as the three in the room had stopped and looked at the newcomers. Hope’s eyes had met yours, and she saw the red rims that indicated the tears, but you looked to be a bit more stable now.

There was silence for a moment, with Lizzie looking between you both. With the way she was sat, on the desk with her whole body facing you, it was clear you two had had a talk. She was glad, glad that you had opened up to someone.

“I think we could both use a talk with Emma.” Hope knew when to be laxer, then when to be firmer and blunter with you; this was one of those times.

You seemed to soak the words in, before nodding, “Maybe we do.”

 So, that was how you and Hope and ended up with scheduled sessions with Emma. One at a time, of course. As you both were aware about how the other would be with how dark some of the thoughts would go.

You stared at the door, knowing that you were a few minutes late, you raised a hand to the door, knuckles hitting the wood three times to announce your presence.

“Come in, Y/N.” The voice of Emma told you, a voice that held no malice.

You opened the door, seeing her bright and welcoming smile when you got into the room enough, “Hi, sorry for – uh, for being late.” You said, dropping eye contact and looking to the floor instead as you gave a smile, but it wasn’t a happy one.

“It’s alright, Y/N. You’ve made it, that’s what matters in the end.” She assured you in a soft tone. You just nodded; it didn’t exactly alleviate you of your guilt.

Still, you sat in the chair, looking at her with an anxious smile, “So, how have you been doing?” She asked you.

“I…. not really that much better.” You were honest, you had to be. You felt like you could be around her.

“Ok, do you mind telling me, why?”

“Just…. I snapped at Hope the other day about giving up my last name, about a legacy that I have. And I know she has it too, but –”

“It’s a weight on your shoulders as well, Y/N. From your perspective, she had just appeared in your life. Granted, you do now remember, but you didn’t before. It’s disorienting –”

“It’s hell. To know I had a sister out there this whole time. I remember my parents, I remembered how they died. And….it wasn’t for me; it was for Hope.”

“It was for the both of you. Hope may have been the one with the Hollow, but you were their son, just as much as Hope was their daughter. Parents, good parents, care for both of their kin. And, from what I know, they did for you both. Hope has a feeling that she needs to look after you, being the closest Mikaelson to you now, but you feel that too –”

“We’re all we have.”

“But you aren’t alone. You have us, Y/N.”

 Those meetings would go on, with you and Hope meeting up after and meeting your friends. It wasn’t an ending, but progress.

That was something.

[rainiswriting]

I don't know if anyone did this black Butler au before and if anyone did I'll like to read or maybe I'll write some au's like this:

1. The blond kid from the twins memory didn't die and become sacrifice first, r!ciel fearing the same thing will happen to his brother accidentally called a demon and make a deal with the demon.

O!ciel is still alive and try to talk r!ciel out of it but r!ciel is determine so o!ciel and r!ciel maybe makes a deal with Sebastian? Idk I'm still working on it

2. Undertaker and r!ciel convinced everyone that Sebastian manipulate o!ciel and is planning to kill him later on (undertaker and r!ciel don't like the thoughts of o!ciel making a deal with a demon) and forcefully take off his eyepatch revealing the mark but both undertaker and r!ciel said that Sebastian is part of the cult that killed him and o!ciel eye is prove Sebastian manipulate him.

O!ciel order Sebastian to run and hide through their bond and r!ciel kept o!ciel in their mansion to protect him (I really want to write the part in chap 152 but this time all the midford family is there to talk to the twins and witness o!ciel eye)

3. R!ciel is able to run away from the burning mansion with o!ciel and didn't get kidnapped, they meet up outside the manor with auntie ann or the midford family (or both) and o!ciel is passed out because of his asthma and almost die, after recovering and the manor is fixed o!ciel becomes afraid of thr outside world and shut himself in. R!ciel the new Earl let this because he don't want to lose his little brother (brocon r!ciel) (his last remaining family) (mini drabble with Edward talking big bro feelings with r!ciel)

"Ciel..this isn't healthy" ciel holding a tray of food for his little brother stop in his tracks looking at Edward

The midford family visit atleast three times every three months to check up on him since the fire three years ago to help him with his earl duties or just being there for him since there's nobody else in the manor except him, his little brother, Tanaka, meyrin, bard, and finnian

The best people to protect his brother

"I thought we already went over this conversation years ago" the earl glared Edward went stiff a bit but shook it off

"But ciel! He's a kid YOU'RE a kid! You two should run around having fun! Let father and me handle your work and play with lizzy and--"

"Edward! I told you" his voice booms silencing Edward "astre is save here! Outside will only hurt him!" He scoff and continue walking

(Maybe something happens that make o!ciel to stop being a shut in slowly but surely, but I'm still thinking)

(Another mini drabble in the Weston school arc but o!ciel [being called astre] visit his brother to watch him, and r!ciel is so damn proud)

"God only knows, Sapphire Owl!"

Everyone parted and clap as white owls fly down to each students arm in good sync

"This is underwhelming" ciel mumble

"CIEEELL!! SO CUTE DO YOUR BEST!!~" Elizabeth between the crowds scream as energetic as ever, ciel follow her screams and saw her in the back he smiled and nod until he finally realized a shorter boy besides her

"Astre!" Ciel doesn't care if he'll get scolded later astre is here! Watching him as he promise

Ciel waves with a smile and give a 'focus ciel' face

-after the ceremony-

"Now group up! Were holding a meeting--"

"ASTRE!!" Ciel cut off, the blue house froze a bit nobody cuts off a prefect and phantomhive the usually calm one just burst out screaming

"Big brother, calm down--" ciel almost tackle astre but he of course remember that he's the older and stronger twin while astre is small and weak so he didn't crush astre completely

"With my little brother being here I for sure need to win this!" Ciel cheer

"Well isn't this familiar" a women older than them come up behind bluewer

"S-sis!" He gasped as he suddenly surrounded by all his sisters four youngest (two of them are even twins) and three older

'It look exactly like violet drawing' ciel though still hugging his brother close everything and everyone is tuned out by him now all he could see is his dear little brother

"Astre how's the ride? You're feeling okay right? There's so many people here don't forget to tell me if you start feeling overwhelmed--" astre laugh and pat his brother shoulders "I'm fine ciel, calm down a bit"

"My, Lawrence isn't that the phantomhive boy you talk about in your letters?" Suddenly one of bluewer older sister come up to them ciel hug astre closer but keep a smile

"Why hello, Nice to meet you" they shook hands

"Aww! What a gentleman! And a cute one at that"

"His looks, brains, and lineage are all good" another one of bluewer big sister come up to them

"And there's two of them! Say how about taking our little sister as your wife!"

"W-what!? Sister"

Ciel politely hold a hand up another hand wrap around his brother "I apologize madams but I have a fiance and" ciel squish astre defeated face "I'll rather die than hand my adorable little brother to anyone soon!" He claimed cheerfully

"Ah of course the perfect one's are brocon" both ladies sigh as their younger sister scold them for embarrassing her

Eliizabeth sigh with a smile behind them Edward and aunt Francis is there two bored with the scenery

"Ciel, I can't believe you'll rather be with your brother than my adorable little sister you brocon" Francis look at her deadpan "are you hearing yourself Edward"

[lifeofkaze]

An Art of Balance #6

A/N: If anyone’s interested, the perfume Lizzie is wearing is one of my all-time favourites, Aqua di Gioia by Giorgio Armani. It’s really poorly described here because my olfactory recognition doesn’t go beyond ‘good’ and ‘bad’, but well. It’s divine though. Also, bear with me if sth astrological is wrong, this stuff is complicated! Katriona Cassiopeia (aka KC) belongs to my lovely friend @kc-needs-coffee

  Word Count: ~ 2.100

______________________________________________________________ 

Chapter 6: A New Perspective

As it turned out, Orion’s decision to name Everett Hufflepuff’s new Beater had been the right one. He still had a way to go, but he immediately fell in line with the rest of the team. What he lacked in precision, he made up in strength.

Orion had taking his individual training on himself. As the team’s captain, he saw it as his personal responsibility to ensure every one of his teammates was able to reach his full potential. Everett was a fast learner, but it would take him a few more sessions to even be remotely able to hold a candle to the Ravenclaw Beaters.

Rath and Cassiopeia had been a well attuned team for many years now, both as skilled a Beater as they came. They would need any protection against them they could get, and the match against Ravenclaw was approaching fast.

Although Orion wasn’t the type of person to let his mind be clouded by worries, he had to admit he wasn’t entirely sure they could get Everett into proper form in time. He had been voicing his concerns to Lizzie the other day, during one of their tutoring sessions. If anyone knew what it took to become a Beater in a short amount of time it was her.

Lately, Orion had found himself looking forward to their meetings in the greenhouse, despite his already tightly packed schedule. It was refreshing to discuss their team matters with someone that didn’t flood him with a multitude of statistics for a change. Lizzie had a different approach to things than him, but they weren’t polar opposites like he and Skye. Exchanging views with her had provided him with a new impulse more than once.

In fact, he had come to enjoy her presence in general, even more so than before. They had always been friends but his knowledge about her had pretty much begun and ended at the Quidditch pitch. Seeing her outside team meetings and practise had allowed him to get to know other sides of her. He’d had no idea Lizzie had been part of the duelling club until last year. Or that Arithmancy was one of her favourite subjects. Or that she used a perfume smelling distinctively of jasmine and mint.

Orion had a harder time bonding with her friend Rowan. He hadn’t had any points of contact with her before he had started tutoring them. Now, several weeks later, he still knew hardly anything about her. She seemed to be exceptionally smart, but also equally as shy. Most of the time she would consult her textbook about the plants he tried to teach them about, while Lizzie paid it no mind, listening to his explanations instead.

Orion couldn’t help his impression that Rowan was struggling with his unconventional style of teaching. He didn’t refer to books more than he had to, rather letting his instinct and experience guide him.

Having trained with him for years, Lizzie knew his way of conveying knowledge was not always straightforward. Rowan, however, had a hard time letting go of protocol. She was clinging to the academic theory as if her life depended on it. Following the rules could help with a lot of problems, but she would never master the delicate nuances advanced Herbology had to offer, if she wasn’t willing to tread paths unknown to her.

“And what exactly is the difference between dried foxglove petals and desiccated foxglove petals?”

McNully snapped him out of his thoughts and back to where they were sitting in the Great Hall. It was study time and most of the students were gathered at their House tables, brooding over their homework.

They had been discussing their latest Potions essay, covering the effects sourcing methods had on the quality of ingredients.

“That is what we are supposed to illustrate, I believe.” Orion dipped his quill into the ink bottle they were sharing and tried to pick up where his wandering thoughts had let him off. His eyes wandered casually across the other Hufflepuff students lining their table.

It lingered where Skye and Lizzie were sitting. Lizzie was rapidly flicking through the pages of her textbook with a puzzled expression. Skye was talking insistently at her, looking equally as bewildered.

Several heads shot up as Lizzie audibly slammed her book shut and clambered off the bench. When Skye made no move to follow her, she jerked the other girl up off her seat and motioned with her head towards where he and McNully were sat.

They quietly walked towards the head of the Hufflepuff table. Seeing them approach, McNully reached for his wheelchair that was blocking the way. He moved it aside to allow the girls to join them. Orion smiled.

“What can we help you with?”

Wordlessly, Lizzie held up her copy of Unfogging the Future and slid into a seat between Murphy and him. She reopened the page she had been examining before and gave a frustrated sigh.

“I cannot tell you how much I hate Divination, I really can’t. You’re good at this, aren’t you?”

Orion supressed a smile. “So I am told. What bothers you in particular?”

“It’s those bloody birthstones,” Skye explained. “No matter how often we go over it, Lizzie and I always come to different results and we can’t find the mistake.”

They handed him their notes and Orion quickly gave them a check before returning them.

“That is because both choices are correct. There is more than one birthstone for each of the zodiac signs. You both chose the right stone for the right sign, but in different parts of the time span covered.”

Skye groaned in frustration, earning her a chiding glance from Professor Flitwick, who was supervising them today. “What do you mean, more than one? Why can’t this stuff be straightforward for once?”

“Everyone is different and such is reflected in the stones fortifying our inner strengths. Why should there be so little birthstones when there are so many traits to represent?”

Both girls looked at him with blank expressions.

Patiently, he flipped the pages to one of the star charts at the back of the book. “The astrological year is divided into the twelve zodiac signs. Each zodiac sign is subdivided into three decades, meaning a set of ten days. There are additional factors to consider, but simply put, there are three birthstones for each sign, representing one decade each. That is why you come to different conclusions, you didn’t factor in the time of the month.”

He contemplated telling them about the stones meant to counteract each signs weaknesses. But seeing Skye pinching the bridge of her nose, while was Lizzie trying to process what he had just said, muttering “I hate Divination” under her breath, he decided against it. Better not too much at once.

“How do you know all this nonsense?” Skye was shaking her head in disbelief.

“I know all this because it is explained in the introduction of the chapter you two apparently weren’t reading too diligently.” He turned the pages back to the beginning and pointed at the paragraph on the first page.

Lizzie’ cheeks flushed a bright read as she quickly scanned the text. “I can’t believe I overlooked this.” Embarrassed, she quickly snatched the book out of Orion’s hands and got up. “Thanks for helping anyway.”

They made their way back to their places, the scent of jasmine and mint lingering behind. Orion was always glad if he could help a friend. A few seats down the table, Lizzie was discussing what he had just told them with Skye. He thought back on what Penny and Murphy had said on the train ride to Hogwarts a few weeks earlier.

Lizzie really had changed a lot. She seemed to be standing taller, an air of effortless confidence around her. The blush on her cheeks had made her look really pretty, reminding him of how the rush of the wind brought the colour to her face when she was flying. She was moving differently as well, more graceful and fluently, her hips swaying ever so slightly with every step she took. He had never noticed her hips swaying like that before.

McNully nudged his shoulder. “Uhm, Orion… if you don’t want to rewrite your whole essay, I’d move my quill if I was you.”

He snapped out of it and looked down at his parchment. The ink was dripping from the tip of his quill, forming a large black puddle at the end of his last sentence that was quickly spreading onto the rest of his half-finished essay.

Orion cursed under his breath, immediately drawing his wand to vanish the excess ink. Fortunately not too much of his work was ruined.

McNully raised his eyebrows. “Such a strong language, my friend. I have only heard you curse three times, so far. One time was when you crashed your broom into the commentary box and broke your wrist, the second time when you forgot the time while broom balancing and almost missed your Defence Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. exam and the third time when you burned yourself on your cauldron and spilled Wiggenweld Potion all over Professor Snape. This reaction is 87,9 % surprising.”

He felt the heat creeping up his neck. McNully was right, he wasn’t easily enticed to displaying his emotions verbally. He hadn’t meant to let himself slip like that.

Choosing not to answer his curious friend, he committed himself to restoring the missing part of his essay. But McNully wouldn’t let it pass like that.

He was nodding in the direction of Lizzie. “I wonder if she knows how much attention she is attracting.”

Orion gripped his quill a little tighter, concentrating on finishing his sentence. He fought the urge to follow McNully’s gaze.

“Our friend has a captivating personality, for sure. But would you mind lifting the veil of ignorance from my eyes and tell me how you reached such a conclusion?”

For a moment, McNully smirked knowingly before he directed Orion’s attention over to where their roommates were sitting. He could easily make out what McNully had been referring to. Everett was eyeing the girls up without even trying to conceal it.

“Him, of course. He’s been checking Lizzie out ever since she came over to us.” He smiled innocently at him. “Why, who did you think I was talking about?”

Orion’s brow furrowed in concern. He didn’t like the predatory look on Everett’s face. This guy had somewhat of a reputation.

“Yeah, I don’t like the looks he’s giving her either,” McNully echoed his unspoken thoughts with a scowl. He leaned closer to him, putting his elbow on Orion’s shoulder in conspiratorial way. “I think we should do something about it, don’t you? And by ‘we’, I obviously mean ‘you’.”

Shaking off McNully’s hand, Orion gave him a disapproving look. “And why would I do that? He is our new Beater if you don’t recall.”

“For the sake of the team, of course!”

McNully started reciting his calculations. “I’d put the chance of him going for our little Chaser prodigy at roughly 80 %. There are some variables unaccounted for, but I’d say the chances of Lizzie falling for him lie at something around 54 %. Which would affect the team’s dynamic gravely. And we can’t have that decreasing our- I mean, your odds on winning the Quidditch Cup.”

Orion blew onto his parchment until the ink had properly dried. “You talk as if he was actually hitting her up. All he did was looking at her.”

And there was certainly nothing wrong with looking.

“Lizzie can fend for herself if need be. Besides, who am I to interfere with the course the heart is deciding to take.”

McNully looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “Mate… I don’t think the heart has much to with it if you get my drift. Seriously, do something.”

“Don’t worry, I will.” He stood up and handed Professor Flitwick his work of the day.

McNully raised one eyebrow at him. “And what would that be?”

Orion gathered his strewn books and notes. “Finding balance inside and outside of my mind, my dear friend. See you at dinner.”

[tracybirds]

Bad Things Happen Bingo #1 Alan and Virgil - Stranger in a Familiar Land

Prompted by @neuroticphysiologist​ - thank you!! :D Loved the combo, it inspired me for sureee!

The boys return to their Kansas high school for the opening of a new building.

Notes: Don’t query me about the timeline, just pretend Gordon is like... 8 years older than Alan in this lol...

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

Alan’s seen Scott’s broad, celebrity smile a thousand times before, but there’s something riveting about this afternoon’s performance in front of the crowd gathered in his old high school. Relaxed shoulders, open expression and a magician’s misdirection away from the troublesome knee injury that had left him grounded. Students and guests of the school alike were lapping it up.

The invitation to the opening of the newest building on the long established campus had been flagged quickly by Tracy Industries and it wasn’t long before John had persuaded Scott to attend with a pointed raise of his eyebrows. Relief swept across the island with the promise of a new project to keep Scott busy and lift his foul mood, and it wasn’t long before they’d all been roped into a visit home to Kansas soil.

Scott always had been good at persuading his brothers to follow his lead.

Scott’s little speech was the pinnacle of the official events and raucous laughter and scattered applause filled the auditorium as he ended with a flourish. He glanced over at them with a triumphant grin, before turning his attention to the flock of admirers that still wanted more from him.

“Come on, let’s go,” said Virgil, with a look of amused exasperation. “He’ll want to catch up with half the town before we head on back.”

Alan watched in bemusement. He’d always preferred the town to their visits to the big cities, no need for caution or carefully planned itineraries, appreciating the simple lives the people led and the ordinary way they interacted with him and his brothers. Seeing Scott mobbed like he was on a red carpet was a novel experience in this place.

“Should we help him out?”

Gordon snorted. “Nah, Allie, he’s fine. Mr Popular was always like this, I remember having to wait hours after school when he’d promised to drive me home.”

“At least he drove you in the end,” said John. “My first day of high school, he just shoved me on the bus so he could spend more time with that girl. Ann? Pamela?”

“Erica,” said Virgil. “You both know I could have driven you, right?”

“No thanks,” said the pair quickly.

Alan laughed at the affronted look on Virgil’s face.

“I can’t believe Virgil was that bad a driver.”

“It wasn’t the driving,” said Gordon, pulling a face. “Parker straightened that out pretty quickly.”

“It was Lizzy,” said John.

“Lizzy was a great car,” protested Virgil. “I fixed her up just fine.”

“You fixed her up every day for a year before Dad finally made you sell her for parts,” declared Gordon. “She broke down more than a Fischler project.”

Virgil huffed a little, but Alan could see the grin he was trying to bite back.

“Wasn’t all bad though.” Gordon kick at one of the lockers that lined the long corridor away from the auditorium. A loud clang echoed through the school and Alan instinctively ducked away from the death glare Scott shot at them through the open doorway.

“Speak for yourself,” said John. “You weren’t missing much, Alan.”

“Aw, don’t be like that Johnny,” said Gordon. He shoved him to one side and posed dramatically. “Here’s where I had my first kiss.” He raced to a forlorn looking table, and patted it gently. “Here’s where I wrote all my homework during study hall, look you can still see my initials.” He tapped the carved letters with a look of pride.

“There’s where you got detention,” muttered John. “Oh, and over there too, and that’s were you got suspended for vandalism, real nice, Gordon.”

“I left my mark, that’s all that counts,” said Gordon airily.

He came to a halt in front of the library, staring at the double doors with a delighted grin.

“You can’t tell me you hated everything, when this place existed.”

“I only liked it because it was the one place that had the good sense to ban you.”

Gordon only smiled wider as he flung the doors open and dragged John inside, Alan and Virgil trailing behind.

“Look any different, John?”

“Be quiet,” hissed John. He was backed by an infuriated shush that seemed to surround them.

Gordon started, fear creeping into his eyes, and then relaxed as he caught sight of an elderly lady who looked like she could go toe to toe with Colonel Casey and not break a sweat.

“Sorry, Mrs B,” he said, cheerily.

The old woman pointed at the wall with a huff, and Alan grinned at the photo pinned to the wall; A fourteen year old Gordon, freckled and bright-eyed and a cheeky smile mirrored by the man himself.

“You kept my photo? After all these years? I’m touched, Mrs B, want me to sign it for you?”

“Out.”

Gordon lifted his hands in defeat, still laughing.

“She really means it when she says lifelong ban, Allie, watch yourself,” he said in an undertone.

He raised his voice to address the formidable Mrs B.

“I’m going, I’m going,” he called, shoving John back through the doors he had barrelled through. “I remember the rules, don’t worry.”

“Hmph,” she said, eyeing Alan closely as he made to follow his brothers. Their voices echoed as they walked away, secure in the familiarity of these halls.

He stilled, hand on the doorknob at the display in the corner that caught his eye. Two sparkling glass trophy cases, and class photos that spanned generations. He wandered over, peering at the names and faces of the hundreds of students that had walked the same corridors as his brothers.

Once, he might have been one of them. If things had gone differently, he’d be here right now. It might have been someone else making today’s speech.

The Tracy name spun together with the history of this place.

John’s, engraved on a number of academic awards, four years in a row.

Gordon’s, taking a place of pride in a variety of sporting shields and a clear favourite for sportsmanship awards as well.

He flipped through the digital archive, selecting the old yearbooks, and there was Virgil, grinning out of the holoscreen at him. He held a trophy of his own, with a young John staring adoringly up at him. Alan blinked, reading the caption that described the school’s first victory in a robotics tournament thanks to the duo.

There was Scott, class president and valedictorian of his year, presenting a speech at graduation. Scott’s name seemed to be almost everywhere he looked, every award, every prize, every photograph of the era. His magnetic brother had thrived here.

The more he looked, the more he found.

He looked up at the photographs, searching for the familiar faces in the crowds. Searching for traces of a past he couldn’t remember and had never been a part of.

A hand fell heavy on his shoulder and he jumped.

“I can’t believe they still have all these old photos,” said Virgil, looking intently into each frame.

Alan didn’t reply, switching his focus instead to his brother. He could read recognition in his brother’s eyes.

“Look,” said Virgil suddenly, “there’s Dad.”

“What?” Alan surged forward, looking back at the photos Virgil pointed to, long before his birth. “Dad went here?”

He could see for himself that it was true – his teenage father looked just like his memories of Scott and Virgil at that age – and he couldn’t help stifling a laugh at the dated haircut.

“Mom too,” said Virgil, pointing at the young girl sitting next to him.

Alan froze, his breath catching in his throat. She smiled up at him with Scott’s dimples and a light in her deep, brown eyes that he recognised in Gordon. He had her hair, he’d always known that, but he’d never seen her with freckles just like his.

“I didn’t know she wore glasses.”

The words came out in a hoarse whisper, squeaking past the lump that had settled in his chest.

Virgil looked surprised.

“You haven’t seen them in our baby photos? She switched to contacts after Gordon was born, he kept grabbing at them.”

Alan just shook his head, not sure if he could speak. He didn’t think he’d ever seen his brothers’ baby photos. It wasn’t the sort of thing they shared, sitting down and searching through the past. There was too much pain there, and when he was feeling disconnected from his mom, it was always his own photos they reached for.

Always, there was the reassurance that their mom had loved him.

Never an indication of the life his brothers had lived before him. A hometown, the same high school, people who called out to them on the street just to say how much they’d grown. People who wanted to tell them they’d done this place he barely knew proud.

“You okay, Allie?”

A tight smile betrayed his thoughts.

“She was really pretty,” he said softly, drawing a finger across the glass.

Virgil nodded slowly. For a moment, Alan thought he might say something and he desperately willed him not to, unsure he’d be able to speak. The moment soon passed and he stepped forward again, to point out more people intertwined with their life before Alan.

He nodded and hummed along, trying to feign interest as best he could, but he could feel the disappointment radiating from Virgil. He wanted to share this with him, but there were consequences to their father whisking them to a new home before Alan could take root here.

An island home suited him, adrift in a lonely sea and isolated from the stability that connected his family to their own homeland.

“Come on,” said Virgil, a soft look in his eye. “Scott’s done, and we want to show you something before we go.”

Curious, Alan followed his brother outside to see his family gathered together, joking and laughing in the courtyard.

“Hey, Alan!” called Gordon, wide grin on his face. “Remember this?”

Behind them, he could see a mural painted over the concrete. The colours were faded and the paint was chipped, the significance of the artwork paid little attention to by students across the years, hurrying and late to class.

As he approached, he could recognise the section they were gathered in front as one of Virgil’s works – a landscape image of the school building just replaced and reopened, living on only in his painting. A sketch of the new building lay next to it, waiting for a new artist to bring the newest period in the school’s history to life.

He looked back through the past images in fascination, from the simple, single roomed wooden building to the magnificent architecture of glass and masonry that stood in front of him today. All the images were true to life, he assumed, painted over as time went by and yet another testament to the proud history to which he couldn’t belong.

Virgil’s own mural stood out from the rest, and not just because he recognised his brother’s bold strokes. It was marred by impulsive streaks of colour, pure blues and bright reds, and in these areas, a technical drawing of the school had been painted in contrast with the realism of the rest of the image.

Two handprints – one large and one small – lay bright in the corner.

“By Virgil and Alan Tracy,” he murmured, reading the small print beside them. “I did this?”

“Let’s just say you wanted to ‘help’,” said Scott with a wicked grin at Virgil.

“I was babysitting you,” said Virgil, crouching down next to the painting. “Biggest project I’d ever been given at the time.”

“And boy, did we hear about it when you painted over it,” said Scott.

“We could hear him yelling from the other side of town,” added Gordon, laughing. “He wouldn’t speak to you for a week. Have you ever seen a teenager trying to ignore a six year old? Funniest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“”In my defence, I thought the school would pull me from the project. I’d spent months planning it in my spare time, I was terrified I’d lose it.”

“Sorry,” mumbled Alan, his ears hot.

“Nothing to be sorry for, Al,” said John, squeezing his shoulder. “Dad straightened him out in the end, you really can’t ignore an upset six year old for long.”

“Besides, it turned out better than before.” Virgil tapped the image lightly. “You covered up all my lighting mistakes on the front staircase.”

Alan laughed, a warm glow in his chest. He hadn’t expected to find a trace of himself at this school everyone else seemed to belong to. He hadn’t expected to care, but his brothers did and maybe that was how his history could be made. He’d never gone to this school, but he’d left his mark all the same. He didn’t recognise the people, couldn’t walk the halls blindfolded, but he shared a past with the place all the same, shared between him and his brothers.

Maybe, he thought, spirits soaring high as he laughed easily with them. Maybe he didn’t have to live in a town for it to feel like home.

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

[lizzy-frizzle]

Haha, jk....unless?

Taken

“Listen, what will it take to convince you I’m worthy to take you out on a date?”

A small au ra raen looks sternly up at the xaela.

The xaela responds, “You are not of the dotharl tribe, you can never be worthy.”

Lizzy, frustrated and not to let fate stop her, takes a moment, and looks around the area.

“Ok, what if I help your tribe?” she spots numerous people immediately with pained expressions, surely they need some help, “After all, you lost some people after the naadam. If the imperials were to come back and attack your tribe, you’d be wiped out.”

Sadu takes a moment and considers her words, “You would help a tribe you don’t belong to?”

“Of course, I helped the mol, I did some light chores for the oronir and buduga. I’ll gladly help the dotharl!” Lizzy finished her sentences and beams at Sadu.

Sadu thinks about this, she can’t exactly turn down help, but at the same time she doesn’t want to offer what Lizzy wants.

“Let’s see how serious you are then.” she scowls, but Lizzy doesn’t let that deter her.

Lizzy spots a dotharli warrior she helped before, “Mauci! Hey, you wanted a teacher right? Let’s go learn to fight!”

The warrior looks startled, and stammers out, “O-oh, Y-yea! OK! Sure, can you kill some beasts for me to watch your technique?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Lizzy, daggers already out, starts marching away from the khaa.

~Out in the steppe~

“Alright, you’re watching?”

Mauci shouts from a safe distance, “Yea! Go for it!”

Lizzy approaches several beasts, daggers drawn and ready to attack, the monsters take note of Lizzy’s presence and one dashes out. Lizzy jumps up, and thrusts a dagger down through the monsters skull, [Nice and easy, now the other one.]  The other one attacks in response, lashing out with a claw. Lizzy ducks under it, and slashes one of it’s legs with her left dagger. [The least you could do is give me a challenge though.] Then in the same motion jumps up again and uses the right dagger to create a handle on the creatures back. It flails it’s arms in an attempt to shake her off. [Oh, I can show off here, hold on.] Lizzy leaps off, and in the air, she uses a series of hand motions, [Raiton time!~] Suddenly a bolt of lightning strikes the creature, killing it instantly.

Lizzy lands with a flourish, dusting herself off, now slightly covered in blood.

“How was that?”

Mauci scratches his head, “Ah, your motions are certainly unfamiliar. Not to say they aren’t natural. I think I see the style though. Let’s return to the khaa, there’s a practice session later today. I’d like to test myself against the others.”

Lizzy looks over and sees smoke coming from the peaceful spring, “Is that accompanied with a bonfire?”

Mauci turns, and looks worried for a moment, “No, no it’s not.”

~Back at the Dotharl Khaa~

When Lizzy and Mauci return, the winds have picked up into a gale.

There’s numerous imperial soldiers fighting with various dotharli warriors. Lizzy wastes no time throwing daggers at the nearest imperial soldiers, dispatching them immediately. With speed Mauci can hardly believe, Lizzy seemingly teleports within range of 3 other soldiers and just as fast the group is engulfed in a fireball, he feels the intense heat from at least 20 yalms away. When the smoke clears, Lizzy is holding an imperial soldier by the collar. The scowl that reads on her is unmistakable through the crimson dripping down her face.

“Where is she.”

The soldier’s eyes are closed, the body is limp.

[Ugh, perhaps that was too much.]

Lizzy scans the area a bit, anything, a sign, a hope. Anything.

[She should be here, she wouldn’t have run away from the fighting. But where.]

A couple more troops fighting with dotharl are nearby, Lizzy runs over and takes them out, still looking for Sadu.

[Even if she was killed, I’d be able to see her.]

Panic starts to pool inside of Lizzy. Then, she spots them. The imperials with a group of hostages, Sadu one of them.

“No..” Lizzy wants to run after them, but there’s too many innocent tribe people in danger right now.

[I can always ask Thancred for help tracking the hostages, I have to save the people in immediate danger now.]

~Later that night~

“Thancred?”

“Yes? What, pray tell, would the warrior of light want with me at this hour?”

“They took Sadu and some other Dotharli people.”

“Work then. Who took them?”

“Garleans.”

“Ah, serious work then. I’ll see what I can find.”

“Please hurry.” Lizzy couldn’t hide the slight worry in her voice.

“Oh? Is that the Fearsome Warrior of Light AND Darkness with some fear in her voice?”

“Shut it. I still haven’t kneecapped you for making fun of Heliox.”

“Very well, I’ll be off.”

With that Thancred disappears into the night. Lizzy waits with baited breath.

~The Next Day~

Lizzy’s linkshell wakes her up

“Yo, what’s-” Lizzy yawns, “-up?”

“It’s like noon, why are you asleep?”

Lizzy shoots up in bed, “Thancred, where are they?”

“Oh I have your attention now?”

“Thancred.”

“Ok, ok, don’t tear my head off. They’re just being held in a nearby imperial prison, not a huge deal. Honestly, I’m surprised you’re worrying about them, it doesn’t seem like there’s anyone important there.”

“I’m going to go rescue them.”

“OH WAIT YOU-”

Lizzy hangs up on him. Lizzy gets out of the tent, and looks at the Khaa. The smouldering remains where the fires burned made her remember the battlefield at Ghimlyt Dark. The smell of imperial gunpowder, and the view of bloodsoaked sand.

[It’s ok. You can save her, and there weren’t any casualties on the dotharli end.]

Lizzy sighed, and shook her head free of the memories. She whistles for a yol and without a word she’s off.

~~

Lizzy was never one for a plan when her emotions played a large factor. Luckily, being the warrior of light means not many can actually cause enough trouble to halt her.

That being said. Not every prison can just be brute force’d into letting her have her way.

[Ok, maybe this should be a more stealth based mission]

Lizzy peers out across the layers of soldiers.

[Lasagna Soldiers]

Lizzy let out a small chuckle at her thought.

[So, get in, free Sadu and any other dotharl’s, get out, without being seen. Easy. Just like Oboro always tries to convince me. Stay hidden.]

Lizzy begins infiltration. Staying hidden while possible. Ducks down a hallway, dodges a patrol group.

[All in all, this is going better than most cases.]

Just then, she turned a corner, and two roaming soldiers nearly collided into her. She jumps out of reflex and somehow managed to avoid both of them.

Lizzy lets out an audible sigh.

“What? Hard day?” one says.

[Oops.]

The other responds, “Hm? No? Why’d you ask?”

The first guard turns around, and starts looking as if he could see Lizzy.

“I thought I heard a sigh. It wasn’t you?”

They draw their weapons.

[This isn’t great.]

Lizzy unsheathes her daggers.

[I tried, oboro, please don’t be mad.]

She breaks hidden, and lunges towards both guards.

[If I can just kill them both before they say anything, maybe it’ll be fine]

A flurry of daggers, and two thuds from the bodies hitting the floor.

[Nice, ok, back to]

An alarm starts blaring.

[Oh. Ok, well, running time now.]

Turns a corner, another one, a third corner.

[HOW MANY CORNERS ARE IN THIS PLACE.]

She turns another corner and slams into a door, knocking it open and nearly off its hinges. Lizzy spots the dark blue skin and black scales.

[Dotharli people?]

Lizzy bolts to the cell.

“Hey, is this everyone?” she asks.

Scanning quickly, her heart drops. Sadu isn’t here.

~~

She spits at the guard inches from her face.

He wipes the spit off his mask, and repeats the question.

“So, are there any secrets in the Steppe? Why was the Warrior of Light there?”

No response.

“Very well, we can continue doing this until your spirit gives up.”

The guard takes an imperial device, and touches it against her skin, sending electricity through her body, and burns across the skin where the metal touched.

“If you think I’m afraid to die, you don’t know who you’re dealing with.”

The guard takes the device off her.

“Clearly.”

He wipes it clean and puts it back on the trolley.

“Well, perhaps you care more about your fellow savages.”

Suddenly an alarm starts blaring.

“An intruder?”

Sadu’s heart races slightly.

[Could it be? Did that foolish woman follow us?]

The guard speaks into his radio, “Who’s the intruder?”

The other side isn’t heard, but Sadu could feel it. No one else could have found them.

“I see, well, stop her immediately.”

[Her, so it is her.]

“I don’t care if she’s the Warrior of Light, she bleeds like anyone else!” the guard turns his focus back to Sadu, “Well, I must have someone mighty important to merit a rescue from the dreaded Warrior of Light herself.”

Sadu remains quiet.

“You are proving to be very difficult. I don’t tolerate difficult people. If you are worth something I can still utilize you.” he pulled his gunsword out and aimed it right at Sadu, “But maybe you aren’t worth the trouble.”

An explosion shakes the facility. The guard looks towards the door, even through the mask Sadu can tell he’s worried.

Another explosion, this one on the opposite side.

“Is it more than just one intruder?” the guard says into his radio.

Sadu is unsure if he gets a response or not, but the guard points the gunsword at her again.

“Ok, I don’t have time for you anymore, pray to whatever god you believe in and be prepared to meet them.”

The door slams open, and is shortly followed by a lightning bolt aimed directly at the guard.

A shot rings out.

~~

“Ok, listen, I’m going to create a diversion, a big one. Can you take these bombs and plant them near the exit? Just throw em anywhere, hit the button, and run. You’ll have a minute or two to get away.”

Lizzy hands a pouch of bombs to one of the xaela she recognized from the Naadam, and gives the group directions out of the base.

“Trust me, they’ll be more focused on me, I promise.”

Lizzy bolts off down the corridor, leaving the handful of xaela to escape.

[Ok, time to find the most explosive room in the building. They keep bombs around here somewhere, right?]

Running as fast as her legs will carry her, she covers numerous hallways in a handful of moments. Hoping to catch some indication of something to make a big boom.

More hallways.

[I’m wasting time, surely there must be something I can use.]

Then she found it.

[Well, it’s not bombs…]

She walks into a room storing multiple energy tanks.

[I was never one for subtlety to be honest.]

Lizzy prepares her shadeshift.

An explosion goes off across the prison.

[That sounds like where I told the Dotharli people to go. Alright then.]

Lizzy takes a deep breath, and braces herself for impact.

[Chi. Ten.]

An explosion across the room erupts, engulfing the entire room in flames, followed by several consecutive explosions, and launching Lizzy backwards down the hall.

“Is it more than one intruder?” a muffled voice behind the door next to Lizzy rings out.

[Well, let’s see.]

Lizzy charges at the door with her shoulder.

[Ten-Chi.]

As the door opens, she spots an imperial soldier with their gun aimed at Sadu.

[Fuck no.]

The Raiton sails through the air, hitting the soldier square in the chest.

A shot rings out.

The lighting spun the guard, the gun was aimed at Lizzy.

She begins to feel a stabbing pain in her side.

[This is fine.]

Lizzy moves over to Sadu, “Good evening princess, care to be rescued?”

The blood starts to leak out of Lizzy, the red staining the otherwise blue outfit.

“I’m not a princess.” Sadu says, noticing the red, “You’re hit.”

Lizzy let’s out a fake chuckle, “Listen, even you have to admit that was a pretty good entrance.”

Sadu, growing irritated, “Untie me so we can get out of here, and get you some help.”

“Oh, right. Sorry, loss of blood. Hard to focus.”

Lizzy uses her daggers to effortlessly cut through the binds.

Sadu grabs Lizzy, and begins to half-carry her.

“How do we get out? Sadu asks.

“Ah, I didn’t think that far ahead to be honest. Should just go down a couple dozen halls, right?”

Sadu groans.

[Of course she didn’t think of a way out. How did this woman beat us at the Naadam.]

~~Dotharl Khaa~~

“So, Lizzy is going to be ok, right?” Sadu asks, impatiently.

Thancred looks at Lizzy laying in a cot in one of the xaela huts, “Yea, I’m sure she will, it’ll take more than a single garlean bullet to take her out.”

Sadu sighs with relief.

Catching herself, “It’d be a shame to lose such a fierce warrior so soon. After all.”

Thancred looks at her, trying to measure her feelings.

He opens his mouth, but decides to shut it, and walks away.

As he leaves, Sadu goes inside, and sits next to Lizzy’s cot.

After all, she shouldn’t be alone right now. That’s all.

“Oh, hi Sadu.”

She jumps, “You’re supposed to be resting.”

“I am,” Lizzy says defensively.

“What, no sarcastic remark?”

Lizzy waits a beat, “No, not this time.” she pauses. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

[austennerdita2533]

Hi to my friend and favorite Austen scholar :) I was wondering if you consider Darcy and Elizabeth an example of the opposites attract trope? I get that they APPEAR very different, with Lizzie exuberant and prone to laughing and teasing while Darcy is a fundamentally serious, reserved introvert. But as I reread and rewatch, I'm struck by how alike I think they actually are. They're both very critical, discerning and quick to judge, they're both extremely clever and intelligent, they're both very insightful (though, like all of us, only when it comes to people other than themselves and those they're closest to!), they're both close to very few but fiercely loyal and loving towards those they do let in, they're both very analytical and contemplative, they're both too stubborn and prideful and reluctant to change their ways until they both learn that's more a sign of strength than weakness. I could bore you by rambling further, but hopefully you get the point! I'm curious whether you agree that they're actually more fundamentally similar than different...? Or am I just as off base as usual?!

Hello lovely, and what a good question!

You know, I've always considered Darcy and Elizabeth to be opposites on the surface but then quite similar beneath it. (That probably reads like a bit of a cop out on my part, but I think it makes sense if you slice it apart.) I'd argue that combination is largely what makes them such a captivating pairing overall.

The so-called "opposite" attributes Darcy and Elizabeth possess work in a two-fold fashion. On the one hand, it explains why they butt heads in the beginning because, in personality, not to mention in the manner in which they're both able to interact with people - acquaintances and/or strangers, especially - they are diametrically opposed. She's extroverted, lively, good humored, and easy to engage in conversation. He's severe, socially inept, broody, and reserved to the point of being almost monosyllabic at the best of times. That difference fosters a lot of tension between them initially. They don't know what to make of each other. How to interact. It also helps to create, elongate, and preserve the canyon of misunderstanding that makes up their dynamic for the first half of the book.

On the other hand, the differences in their dispositions are also where hardcore attraction comes into play. They both gravitate toward, seek to investigate, rather, the qualities the other person has that they do not. It's like catnip. Draws them in like magnets. They're both similarly afflicted in that regard, I'd say.

Darcy is bewitched by Elizabeth's vivacity and openness, by her ability to laugh at the absurdity that is present throughout society. She's easy among new company where he is stilted, uncomfortable, and he LIKES being around her because of that. It draws him out of his shell. Forces him to be more present and attentive, even if "more present" manifests only in the heady looks he shoots at her from across the ballroom. He's stimulated by her wit, by her teasing. She astonishes him (in a good way), keeps him on his toes, and that's exciting...erotic.

Elizabeth, too, even in her most fastidious "I have never sought your good opinion" moments can't help but be caught up in the enigma that is Darcy. Arrogant and taciturn though he seems, his aloofness, as well as the natural reserve which surrounds him, makes him equal parts interesting and grating to her because she's unable to fully figure him out. She tries to glean what she can about him from observation, from limited time spent in his company, but he's essentially a lockbox (rude!), so instead she has to rely on the gossip that other people (Wickham) have related, and even then she's not satisfied. She still wants to know more. Needs to know more about who he is. She says herself that the different accounts she's heard of him "puzzle her exceedingly." The point here being that she can't stop trying to puzzle out the man from the second they meet no matter how hard she tries. She's caught up without realizing just how caught up she is. I mean, even when she's declaring she hates him I'd argue there's still a part of her that's more enthralled with him than anything. He remains an unsolved mystery, which is maddening as well as a little dazzling; so conscious or not, she feels a pull toward him. It cannot be helped. She's in over her head. I believe she's desperate to know if there's more to him than meets the eye (though she'd rather die than admit such a thing.) So really, his introversion has its own attractions for her as well--it keeps her probing, orbiting.

Like you mentioned, too, Darcy and Elizabeth have a lot of traits in common. They're clever, contemplative, critical, astute, and stubborn, to name a few. However, where the juxtaposition comes into the mix is how these things are expressed in their individual personalities. Because, in that regard, they do express or convey these traits differently. I think that's where the "opposites attract" trope could apply.

That said, Darcy and Elizabeth do both face similar conflicts throughout the novel. They're each prideful in their own way and must learn how to overcome their own snobbery, their own criticisms of people. I think we tend to overlook that as something they share because of how it manifests, again, with respect to their individual personalities and social classes. But without that tenet of similarity tying them together there'd be no romantic tension in the novel. That's the whole point of conflict upon which the whole plot turns - their respective (and mutual!) pride and prejudice. Also, if they both weren't loyal and protective of those they loved most in the world, and if they hadn't had a mutual evolution where they'd learned not to be so quick to judge others and forgive past grievances, then the romantic resolution between them would have fallen flat. As readers, we wouldn't have been rooting so hard for them to be together if they hadn't had those things in common. Right?

Part of the reason we consider Darcy and Elizabeth to be well-matched match by the end of the story is because they're opposites on the surface who are bound by the same moral fiber - character - underneath. They're good people who have made and learned from their own mistakes. That growth is what matters. It's because of their mutual self-reflection and self-improvement that they're able to come together to form a healthy union.

In my estimation Darcy and Elizabeth are similar in all the big ways that matter - smart, devoted, forgiving, dependable, loving, etc. - and different in ways - cheerful, stoic, witty, quiet, rich, bougie etc. - that allows their dynamic to feel fresh and surprising...not to mention swoon worthy as hell!

[a-tcos]

I have another ask. . . Let's say... we get Black Butler into Cabin In The Woods corner~(which btw is my all time favorite horror movie besides the OG first films of Nightmare, Friday the 13th, Halloween, and Wrong Turn) what stereotype would they be? Either from the film or any others that weren't added sadly

YESSSS (I love cabin in the woods!!). I’ll try to add all of the stereotypes from the movie but I’ll also subvert and add others here and there as the black butler characters :

I mentioned in my previous black butler horror AU post that o!Ciel Phantomhive and Hannah Annafellows would be survivors akin to the Final Girl. Hannah is sensible but “pure”, the same goes for Ciel (except the purity thing is weird because I usually write him as a child, you know?). I also see Lizzie Midford falling into this category. Hannah and Lizzie are closer to the OG idea of a Final Girl, but oCiel takes it one step further by being ruthless and cunning, doing whatever it takes to survive and outsmart the horror.

Grell Sutcliff is likely to survive, but she’s definitely the Genre-Savvy Horror Nerd (ie. Randy Meeks from Scream). I see her being into horror and true crime so hardcore that she’ll use what she’s learned to help her survive. I did mention that those skills, in turn, could be used so that she could be a killer, but I don’t see her killing off any of the cast. Even when she directly expresses that she’s thought of murder, I just don’t see her actually acting on it. If he’s included, Othello definitely fits the “Genre-Savvy” type while also being a bit of a geek.

Claude Faustus and Agni are the Smart Guys, but in different ways. Agni is completely kind and compassionate while being knowledgeable and practical. This is his current outward and inner appearance. I do think Claude has the capacity to be truly nice to few, but put an emphasis on few. He has the same skills as Agni, but he is not as sociable or charitable as Agni. He is paranoid and suspicious. In fact, I can see him as someone who is a Big Bad, someone who could kill off the other characters and feel no remorse. Claude is obviously terrible in canon, but he has the somewhat-unique character of stoicism and mysteriousness that lends itself well to portraying him in different ways. I’m also grouping these two together because I can see them getting along (not as well as Agni gets along with Seb, but I see Agni as someone who’s now willing to be friendly with anyone).

The closest characters to the Dumb Jock stereotype are Ronald Knox and Prince Soma. They’re not exactly jocks, but they’re active with strong personalitities and make rash decisions. However, Ronald isn’t dumb and I can never get mad at Soma for not knowing any better.

I don’t really think any characters from Kuro really fit the Stoner stereotype. I definitely have headcanons that a lot of them have at least tried weed or regularly smoke for various reasons, but not anyone who fits that exact stereotype. I’ll quickly say that I see Claude and Undertaker smoking the most out of all of the cast. Undertaker is just a fun guy so of course he would and Claude deserves to feel mellow (perhaps that’s why he’s calm? /j).

I think William T. Spears is a really interesting character in put in a horrror setting because he has a lot of elements from different archetypes (at least in my characterization and headcanons of him based off of what I took from canon). He looks like a Workaholic Dad but has no spouse or children. He seems smart but he hasn’t had the time to exactly show off his skills. He seems like an easy kill, frankly, but I love writing him because I think he deserves more development.

I have to say it: Undertaker screams slasher to me (or maybe even similar to Jigsaw). I don’t always like writing him as a big bad from the get-go, though; i definitely like writing him as just being this Weird Guy. I can’t believe that I have soft spots for Claude and Undertaker. I do see those two getting along despite them literally never meeting in canon (season 2 is canon in MY heart, it’s just that the season 1+2 canon are different from the manga canon, aka the main canon). Either way, he’d fit one of three tropes: Slasher, The Old Guy That Warns the Cast To Get Out, or Goth. These could also go hand in hand, though.

Alois Trancy? I mentioned seeing him as a victim, but not being the first to die; he’s the character that really deserves to survive but you just know won’t because the writers hate him /j. In all seriousness, i would love to say that if I were to write him in this AU he’d survive, but I can’t say that. Alois Trancy will always deserve better, but I think he’s just a character that’s almost always doomed to die, even in most AUs. Not sure if that’s any particular trope or stereotype, but I just think he’s so important and lovable that he has to die (you know, to tug at the heart strings).

I mentioned most of my thoughts on Bard, Finny, and Mey-Rin on my other horror AU post, but I’ll add that Mey-Rin is technically final girl material. It’s just that I see all of them surviving or none of them surviving whatsoever. They’re all the Comedic Relief that happen to have survival skills and would 100% survive had it not been for Ciel and Sebastian getting involved.

Did I purposefully put off Sebastian until the very end because I’m a jerk? Yes. Is it because I solely think he’s the perfect slasher victim? Yes. Or maybe I just think he is in this AU. I mean he’s attractive and skilled with very few drawbacks. I do headcanon him as having anger issues and impulsive behavior (as well as being not the smartest man by a long shot), but I digress. He’s very skilled, almost as skilled as his canon counterpart. However, this isn’t exactly a horror trope/stereotype. Sexy characters/characters that partake in vices dying first? Oh, now that’s a trope. I hc human Sebastian as being a sex worker, and unfortunately that isn’t good for him in horror. If I’m writing then he’s not the first corpse to show up, but if he’s grouped with anyone mentioned here EXCEPT for Finny, Mey-Rin, and Bard... he’s definitely one of the first - if not the first - to die. When I mean “the first corpse to show up”, I’m talking about minor characters that would kick off the main plot in a similar way to Drew Barrymore’s character in Scream.

That was a lot BUT I’m in love with this AU. I gotta do more with it (writing, drawing, rp, or anything really). Thank you for this ask!! I’ll definitely answer more asks about this as well as start making my own content w/ it.

[fancycaroline]

KeenlerWeek Day 3 - Just Kiss Already

I can’t believe I’m actually posting this. I like to play around with words sometimes and it seems “shipping” inspires me  in more ways than I ever imagined. I was a terrible student from 5th grade on and was discouraged repeatedly from ever writing anything again, so to find that when I became a fan for the first time ever in the delight-filled Remington Steele fandom, no one was more surprised than myself when I got the urge to write a freaking story!?!?! The same can be said of drawing. I was somewhat discouraged to draw as well, though the arts were always applauded in my home, but I had nowhere near the talent of my older sister, so she got the shiny box of markers and I wasn’t allowed to touch them. Anyways, I continued to draw here and there, but never did I think I could do what being a giddy fangirl has inspired in me. I think the romance might be responsible.... something else that was discouraged in my youth!!  I remember once being chastised by my big sister for reading a Sweet Valley High or some such book I somehow managed to get my hands on. I was so ashamed, never again did I read a romance novel!  So I think there is something to be said for letting kids pursue their interests... Anyways, I have no complaints and am thrilled to have found fangirling and the inspiration it affords me to explore different avenues of art and creativity. Now that I’ve managed to make this all about “me, me ,me!”, I’m going to shut up and introduce my offering for Day 3 of Keenlerweek 2020 - Just Kiss Already. This is a redirect of the Birthday Supper episode and is something I’ve been working on for about a year. It’s part of a much longer work, but works as a stand alone, so win/win. It is unbeta’d, so mistakes are my own and it is rated.... well, put it this way...there are no “nasty” surprises... I hope it is enjoyable, but if not, that’s okay. I had fun either way! (Don’t ask me about that sketch. I was possessed this morning with doing something for this little ficlet, these are the pictures that popped into my mind?.... idk... I think it’s the LOOOOOKSSS! I know that that is my fave screenshot of Ressler and the first one I ever took. Oh, actually, I will include the screenshots here... a cookie for anyone who can name the episodes... 🎖

(I know, it’s pretty rough, but a really refined drawing usually takes me at least two weeks. Life is too short!)

Longevity Initiative (aka Birthday Supper): Redirect

*****

“What's this?”

“You don't remember, do you?”

“What?”

“The grapevines. The ones you and Sam harvested.”

“Of course. I-I remember. Along the garden fence, we would pick... Is this from...”

“A bottle of wine you made with Sam when you were a child. Happy birthday, Lizzy. You've become everything Sam dreamed you would and more. Share it with someone special.”

*****

“Donald.” came Red Reddington’s self-assured voice through Agent Ressler’s cell.

A frown. “Reddington... what do you want.” he answered, suspicion threading his voice.

“It’s Elizabeth’s birthday today.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Do you really think it appropriate that someone as special to us as Agent Keen be spending the evening of her birthday alone?”

Donald Ressler didn’t say that he did not want Liz spending any evening alone. “She’s not. She’s having dinner with friends.”

“Perhaps you should check your sources, Donald.  Right now, Elizabeth is sitting alone in her office, dwelling on all that she has lost in the past two years. That’s not the image someone like myself, and, I imagine, someone like you, wants to conjure of an individual as special to us as our Agent Keen.”

Donald pulled the phone from his ear and looked at it, puzzled. This obsession Reddington had with Keen was getting weirder by the day. Still, he was on his way home and Wing Yee’s was on his way. It wouldn’t hurt to swing by there and confirm what Liz had told him earlier that day, that she would be celebrating her birthday with friends at the trendy Chinese food place.

*****

How did Reddington know these things?, thought Ressler as he walked off the elevator, his arms laden with a large brown bag of Wing Ye’s takeout, onto the expansive floor of the Post Office’s cavernous war room. He slowly approached the glass box that he and Liz shared for an office, peaking around a corner to see if she was really there, as Reddington had informed him.

She was there, just visible through the shades, staring off into space, not even the pretence of paperwork on the empty desk before her.

Ressler quickly crept back to the Task Force’s debriefing area and, laying the bag on the table, removed his coat and rolled up his sleeves. It wouldn’t do for Liz to think he’d driven all the way back here just for her. Although, who was kidding who? he thought, a self-deprecating grin creasing the one side of his face.  She’d probably figure it out... Maybe he wanted her t...no, he would not go down that road. He was just here to cheer her up, maybe just hear her out, if something was bothering her. He gathered up the paper bag again and started for the office, but doubled back, grabbing an empty file box from under a table. He transferred the origami-like containers of food from the paper bag to the box, arranging them with care so they would not topple. He didn’t want to give away the surprise prematurely. She had looked a bit blue, he thought as he approached their office, and like she would need to get something off her chest before  she’d be ready to enjoy a meal.

“Hey.” He greeted her upon entering, his gaze faltering as he thought to himself, Okay, maybe more than a BIT blue. I’m glad I followed up on Reddington’s lead...

“Hey! What are you still doing here?” Said Liz, clawing her way out of her brooding mood.

“I could ask you the same thing. What happened to dinner?” Ressler tried to keep his tone light.

Having emerged from the hole, Liz plateaued at glum. “I just didn't feel like going out.”

Ressler furrowed his brow at her defeated tone, “What's going on, Keen?”

“You said earlier that I had so much to celebrate. You know that isn't true. I mean, I thought by the time I was in my 30s, I'd have something to show for it. I would at least be a prestigious profiler. I mean, I was the top in my class. I thought I'd have a loving relationship with someone, maybe we would be raising a family together.”

Trying to keep Liz from spiralling down again, Ressler tried to draw her out and quipped,  “At least you've got a dog. That's one up on me.”

But to no avail. Liz forged on bitterly as if she hadn’t even heard him, “I don't know who I am. I don't know if this is my birthday. I don't even know my own name. No, I know who I am. I am the puppet of some high-functioning sociopath.

I don't even know what I'm doing here.”

Ressler saw his chance to redirect Liz’s negative trajectory. This was a special day, after all, and he intended to help get her mind off things over which she had no control, at least for the time being. He stood and, as he spoke,  flipped the lid off the file box in which he had hidden the the food, “What you're doing here is celebrating your birthday...with me.”

Liz stopped in her tracks when she saw Ressler pull out the familiar Wing Ye’s takeout containers, and said in complete surprise, “What did you--“

“See, I called the restaurant. I thought I'd send you and your friends a bottle of wine.” Okay, that was a little white lie, but he wasn’t about to give Red any credit...

“Turns out, there wasn't a reservation, so I figured, since you weren't going to Wing Ye, I was bringing Wing Ye to you.”

Liz watched him for several seconds, her eyes following him in fond bemusement as he moved between the box and her desk, setting up the food. A thought occurred to her and she stood and turned, opening the drawer in which she had placed Red’s gift to her; a bottle of wine that she and Sam had made when she was a little girl; “Share it with someone special” had been Red’s words to her that morning when he gave her the wine, as well as a bottle of a professional vintage, in case her and Sam’s craft wine would prove to be undrinkable.

“Oh, look at you!” declared Ressler, as he took in the sight of Liz who, holding a whimsically decorated bottle of wine, appeared slightly bashful at the offering, but nevertheless announced

with childlike confidence: “I've been saving this for a special occasion.”, echoing Red’s words to her that morning.

“Well...” began Ressler, upon whom the significance of the moment — that Liz was somehow sharing a piece of herself—- was not lost on Ressler and, as he placed the last of the food on the desk, he met her playful gaze with his own and finished warmly, “...I'm honoured.”

Neither Liz nor Ressler could have predicted the oasis that spending time together afforded. Not a single mention of work entered the conversation, only sharing stories of days gone by, of scattered cherished memories of one another’s childhoods and families, and what was left of their hopes for the future.

Before they knew it, it was 10:30 and they found themselves surrounded by a mess of takeout containers, chopsticks and paper cups. They were both feeling satiated from the meal and slightly woozy from the wine, so there was a contented lull where their smiling eyes locked and they held each other’s gaze for longer than your average glance. Ressler swore he could smell the forest on a fine day and suddenly imagined his accelerated breathing could be heard above the din of various climate control apparatuses of the older building. Pulling his eyes from Liz’s, Ressler firmly reminded himself of his honourable intentions and stood, gathering up the garbage, hoping that Liz did not notice how unbalanced he felt in that moment.

Liz stayed where she was, watching Ressler, her eyes following his every move, basking in the glow of a feeling she had inside her, a feeling that had erroneously bloomed under Tom’s attentions; a feeling she thought had retreated permanently after that painful betrayal.

If she was being totally honest with herself, since she had begun working at the Task Force, Ressler’s surprising moments of kindness and compassion towards her on a handful of occasions had challenged her devotion to Tom more than she had dared to admit at the time. Putting it in perspective in this moment, she wished she had left Tom at the first hint of a betrayal, but something intangible had kept her tethered to him, despite her significant qualms about the duplicitous man and her increasingly warm feelings towards Ressler.

It‘s difficult to give up a perceived certainty in exchange for an unconfirmed possibility.  We are all fools in love, so they say...

Liz knew what was in her heart, even though she took pains to school it into obediance, but in truth, Ressler had been quite critical of her and, with his rigid standards, she was never sure she was good enough for him as a partner, to say nothing of anything even remotely more personal, and so she couldn’t be certain of his feelings towards her....  Even if...sometimes... he had inspired within her, unbidden, feelings of profound fondness, need to seek comfort from him, desire to protect and care about him...

...And why was it so important for her that she earn her stripes with him?! She couldn’t bear to disappoint him, it seemed. He made her want to be her best self...

...Despite the jumble of question marks clambering in her head, it had been easier to go along with the pipe dream that was Tom, and what she had perceived as an idyllic marriage, than face these uncertain, inconvenient,  feelings towards a man who, with every appearance, was contrary, exacting and unpleasant, particularly towards her... but there were those glimmers.... of the kindest heart, one that grapples with right vs wrong, one that fights the good fight each and every day...

Ressler, oblivious to Liz’s reverie, though all too aware of the intensity of her perusal, was trying to focus on the task at hand, and was relieved when he finally heard her stir and rise to help tidy up. But now, he had other things to worry about, as they silently weaved around each other in the close quarters of their office, collecting the refuse for the trash. Yes, this was far worse than having her looking at him the way she had been, her gaze melting his defences, as it always had when she wanted something. Since the first day they had met and worked together, she had had the uncanny ability to unravel his iron clad resolve in following protocols. This would normally have been a very bad thing, but strangely, things always worked out for the best because he had bent the rules for her...

The refuse tidied up, Ressler and Liz found themselves facing each other in the small space of the office. There was no avoiding eye contact now, Ressler his face a mask of apprehension, Liz with a shy smile. 

Out of nowhere, Liz reached up, clasping Ressler’s shoulders with both hands, and pressed a soft kiss on his cheek. Maybe her aim was a bit off, because the kiss landed more like on the corner of his mouth rather up higher, and Ressler was suddenly acutely aware of the enormous difference a couple of inches could make... Nevertheless, the mask barely moved, but Ressler’s eyes flashed with surprise and his eyebrows quivered with apprehension and bewilderment, “What was that for?” He had to ask.

Liz released his shoulders and stepped back demurely, replying carefully,“It was... thank-you... For being a good friend.”

Ressler relaxed somewhat, though the patch of skin that Liz’s lips had indelibly branded tingled mercilessly. His eyes meeting Liz’s, a precarious move, Ressler was immediately drawn in. It was as if he could see fragments of his own loneliness reflected in the ice blue shards of her eyes. He was drawn in, leaning towards her, and his eyes fell to her lips. 

The ridiculous question of when were they last kissed popped into his head and it was the bucket of ice-cold water he had needed to stop himself from leaning any further.

The spell was broken and Ressler tried to pick up the pieces. 

Reaching up to rub the back of his neck, his eyes darting around the room, anywhere but at Liz, he said, hastily, “Er... it’s getting late... We gotta get to bed... I mean, I gotta get to bed... You don’t have to... I mean.... Do you need a ride home?”

excerpt from Blacklister #001: The Mother of all Blacklisters

[tired-college-student-writing]

Beautiful Versions of Brokenness pt. 2

Summary: Marinette is different. There was no denying it, but none would have guessed that the true reason was soul deep

Continuation of Prompt: If you're into Black Butler, maybe something with that and Miraculous ladybug? Or Black Butler with Demon Bim? I just think you'd do a good job with the Black Butler characters.

Part 1

____________________________________________

Chat Noir reluctantly left so that Ladybug and Sebastian, shortly after, promised to meet up on the next patrol night so that they could properly discuss their unlikely reunion.

Instead of going home, Marinette leads them to the top of the Eiffel Tower. Parisians are used to seeing their heroine and a black figure at the top of the tower, no one would think twice if she arrived there. Sebastian follows as he always did.

“This isn’t my first life after Ciel then,” She hummed, once she arrived, deciding to deal with the first question on her mind.

“No,” Sebastian agreed, as her timer slowly beeped towards its end, “This is my 37th time meeting you since your contract was created. The 21st time you’ve awoken your Phantomhive memories.”

Her eyebrows rose, “it’s only been 130 years since Ciel died, how have I been reborn 37 times?”

The demon all but scoffed, “Really mistress? All these years with beings of heaven and hell toying with your life and you still believe we are playing by earthly rules?”

Marinette just glared, “You’re telling me Hell lacks linear time then? When I die, my soul just flies to any time period it pleases and becomes whichever child it can find?”

“Precisely,” Sebastian smirks, “There have only been a few rules your soul seems to follow, your eyes remain virtually unchanged, still the strikingly blue and purple hues they have been since our contract was sealed, your hair an inky black and your memories return within a year of the age you took your earldom, thirteen, or not at all. Other than that this is the eighteenth time you’ve taken a female form, fifth where you’ve been of mixed races, tenth of being Asian descent, you’ve been of African descent six times, middle eastern eight, Native American three times. You’ve been of peasantry or slavery six times, on three different continents. Though being enslaved has triggered your memories flawlessly every time and allowed for you to rise in the ranks of society with grace. Sixteen times you’ve been of noble birth in multiple different royal families across the globe. It’s been an adventure each time

“What about Lizzie?” She finally asked,” She never sold her soul, and yet Chat Noir is clearly my fiancé.”

Sebastian frowned, “To be quite honest, she’s never appeared before, or at the very least never awoken. Human souls are not supposed to be reincarnated so quickly, even by heaven’s terms we should not have run into Miss Elizabeth before the 30th century and I’ve never heard of the average reincarnation remembering their memories as vividly as Chat Noir did.”

“Who would know?”

The grimace was fleeting on the demon’s face but Marinette knew what he was getting at.

“The Grim Reapers,” She groaned, “Grell hanging around anywhere?”

“What makes you so certain that pest is still working off their debt?” Sebastian countered

Marinette glared, “Because I’ve seen a shockingly familiar red figure watching the Akuma battles before, but only the ones that might have high casualty counts if we had lost. Plus you’re always aggravated whenever I came back from those types of battles and she was the only one that I know that gets under your skin that badly. If she wasn’t so… open about her desires I would have loved to see her around more.”

The demon sighed, “Observant as always my lady. Grell Sutcliff, William T. Spears, and Ronald Knox have all been given special assignments to follow your reincarnated soul around as they are used to our unique brand of chaos. They are given time off when your soul is inactive, and this works counts as double time for their repayment… containing the destruction left in your wake.”

Marinette hummed, as her time finally wore out a Tikki appeared next to her.

“Sebastian,” Tikki greeted, cooly, drawing a wicked grin on the young girl’s face.

“Miss. Tikki,” He offered with his polite butler smile, the one Marinette knew meant he wasn’t happy, “A pleasure as always.”

“Oh, you’ve met then?” Marinette laughed with twisted glee “I haven’t seen you look so constipated since we had to do those Phoenix poses!”

She could practically hear the teeth grinding behind his forced smile, “I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about Mistress, I think the reincarnation process has scrambled your mind.”

She hummed, cheeky grin not falling as she passed Tikki her emergency cookie, “Either way, we need to plan. Obviously, we can’t play the butler and Earl roles as we once did so we must figure out new roles that we can play, and create a fake hero identity for you if you plan on continuing to help out during Akuma battles.”

The smirk he gave showed off far too many teeth, but instead of unnerving her, it filled her with a sense of comfort, “Allow me to handle everything, mistress. What kind of demon would I be if I couldn’t manage a simple cover story and superhero outfit.”

________________________________________

Marinette awoke the next day to find it starting off horribly. Not only had she overslept without the ever-present tapping on her balcony door Sebastian normally did whenever she slept through her alarm, but as she was rushing she tore her blue contact, only to find it was the last one she had in stock, her new order not set to arrive until later in the week. She decided to give the demon a pass just this once since he most likely was still coming up with proper identification and dwellings for him to stay at now that she required him to be more than just a bird.

Looking in her closet she paused at her normal outfits, plink blossoms, pink jeans, and ballet flats. It just… felt wrong with her new memories of the Earl rattling around her head. She wasn’t unhappy being a woman in this life, still feeling as comfortable as ever in her own skin, but the overly modern and feminine dress just didn’t sit right with Ciel’s memories so fresh in her mind.

Instead, she pulled out a peter pan collared button-down shirt with the collar and large buttons navy against the cream of the rest of the shirt, a forest green western tie clasped in the front. She also pulled on a pair of straight-legged green pants and a navy blazer adding a tan pair of thick heeled ankle boots.  For her final touch, she deep parted her hair, pinning it over her right eye and pulling it back into a bun securing a cream ribbon in a bow around the base of the bun once she was finished. Satisfied she grabbed her bag and took off at a run, bidding her parents goodbye as she attempted to make it class before the bell rang.

She arrived seconds late and found the room reorganized, seats had been moved and the open seat on her normal side of the room was right up next to Adrien. Well, she had to admit her previous actions around him had been overboard in retrospect, and while he was still cute but with Lizzie back in the picture it seemed almost like cheating on her old fianceé.

“Good morning, Adrian,” She greeted, choosing to stand in front of the desk instead of sitting down yet.  

The blonde turned to her and perked up, “Marinette! I’m loving the new look, very Victorian esque”

“Thank you!” She laughed, “I felt like a change, You look great too!”

She could feel the eyebrows around the room go up as she smiled gently at the boy, but it was a good change of pace for him, his usual sneakers, jeans, and T-shirt had been swapped out for shiny dark brown dress shoes, a fitted pair of emerald green pants, with a crisp dark blue shirt tucked in. When he turned she could see a silver lace embroidery cutting a wavy path from his left shoulder to his right hip shimmer. He even wore a simple silver ear cuff to finish off the look.

“I picked it myself,” He preened under the positive attention, “Father usually is so strict about what I wear in public but he said I did well with this one!”

“Well, I have to agree,” She hummed, “You should experiment more often, I’d love to give you critiques now that we’re desk partners.”

“Girl what?” Alya finally interrupted, “That’s not your seat, you’re sitting in the back now.”

She could stop her smile from falling into a stony blank look as she turned around, “Excuse me? Who made that call?”

“Well,”  Nino piped up with a slight weariness at her look, “She’s got hearing issues so we had to put her upfront, to make it work Ivan sat next to Mylène, Nate sat next to Alix, and she came up with the idea of moving me up here, so I could spend more time with my girlfriend.”

Marinette raised a brow making the majority of the room fidget, “Who exactly is she?”  

Before any of them could answer Ms. Bustier opened the door and started her normal classroom announcements, “Good morning, students. I'm sure you've all heard by now, but Lila's home from her trip to Achu and she's back in school with us again.”

The Italian girl all, but bounced into the room to greet everyone, receiving a warm answer back as Marinette’s mouth thinned.

The fox paid her little mind as she pretended to gasp in surprise at the empty seat next to Adrian and started gushing, “Oh, a seat in the front row! You all remembered my hearing issue! You're such sweethearts, all of you!”

Marinette tilted her head, “I didn’t realize you had a hearing issue, Lila.”

Green eyes flashed towards her as she painted on a self-conscious smile, “Oh Yes, I suffer from tinnitus, a constant ringing in my left ear. I've had it ever since the sound of an airplane engine burst my eardrum on the runaway when I was saving Jagged Stone's lost kitten,”

“Really?” Marinette questioned with a raised brow, “Well I am sorry to hear that, but I would like to know why your disability is ranking above my own.”

Lila froze as Bustier paled eyes widening with realization. The room grew silent before Kim slapped the desk, “Oh my god, we forgot Marinette can’t see!”

She laughed, shaking her head, “I’m not blind Kim,”

He waved her off, “You know what I mean.”

Nino groaned, slinking down, “You aren’t even wearing your contacts today!”

“I ripped one this morning,” She sighed in explanation, “My replacements aren’t coming until Wednesday. So I really can’t sit in the back of the room even if I wanted to.”

Alya’s face scrunched, “I’m missing something,”

Marinette stared up at her unblinkingly, “I have a severe vision problem that causes me issues with depth perception and distance, especially if I’m not wearing my contacts. As noted by my doctor I need to be sitting within the first two rows of the classroom, and to have a seat partner is willing to give me notes that I may have missed if my vision acts up. It has been on file since I was six years old.”

“Ivan and I can move to the back,” Mylene offered quickly, “I’m sorry for forgetting Marinette!”

She offered a soft smile, “It really is no issue, as long as it gets sorted.  While I must admit I believe the origin of Lila’s disability is fabricated, I am sympathetic to her for having said disability, but I refuse to not have my accommodations met just for someone else’s to be met.”

“Fabricated!” Lila gasped tears welling in her eyes, “How mean! You don’t like me, do you! You’re trying to make me look bad and have a hard time due to my disability!”

The ice that entered Marinette’s eye before she turned to the Italian girl sent a shiver down the class's spine, causing Chloe to shrink back and Adrian to sit up stick straight. Marinette felt an odd calm fall over her as the Phantomhive came out to play.

“You claim that you received hearing damage from being too close to an airplane because you ran onto an active runway to save Jagged Stone’s kitten from a jet preparing to take off,” Marinette repeated slowly, “ Not only does Jagged Stone despise cats, but he’s despised them since he was a child after one attacked and killed his parakeet, Juniper. This is an easy fact to look up as he’s mentioned it several times in multiple interviews. The pet he currently owns and has owned for almost twenty years now, is Fang, a freshwater crocodile that Jagged hatched himself. No one is stupid enough to forget the animal they heroically saved from a vehicle that’s accelerating an average of 32 meters per second squared, wasn’t even a mammal when I know that Fang weighs almost 200kg.”

Lila tried to break in but Marinette just straightened her back, and crossed her leg at the knee before continuing, “Furthermore, no airport in this day and age would allow for a teenage girl to make it to the runways where a plane was taking off without being tackled by security, nor do I believe that your mother, a diplomat, would be moronic enough to allow you to be placed in that much danger. If it did happen there would no doubt be multiple stories run by the media about it, internationally so since Jagged Stone is such a big name and you are the daughter of a diplomat, this would not be the first we would be hearing it.”

Marinette grimaced as she moved onto the next point, not even paying mind to the sputtering Lila was doing, “Based on these facts I’m going to assume the claims that he wrote a personal song for you that have been bouncing around are also false as if they’re not it does not paint a good picture that a famous man in his forties is writing and dedicating songs for you, a young teen fan. If these accusations were true, I'd be forced to believe that Jagged Stone is a hebephile or at the very least grooming you.”

Marinette simply crossed her arms as the room grew deathly silent, “Lastly, nothing suggests that sitting closer to the front of the room helps tinnitus, as the persistent ringing would not change and make little difference in a room this small. Most students with tinnitus require the student being given the option to move to a quieter location if the condition is triggered during class, groups the student is working with being given the option to move to a different area in case group work gets too loud during group activities and being placed near a low-level sound, such a small fan, computer, a heating element, or an open window, as complete silence can irritate the issue. I did enough research when helping Aurora fight for proper accommodations made in her own classroom on the subject to know that much. Or as by the way you are dressed and the fact you claim to have spent the last few months traveling the world, your family clearly has money so buying one of the many options of hearing aid out that that has been developed to assist and almost eliminate tinnitus would be overly easy. They sell them for around 270€, fairly cheap for accommodation products, and if your family truly took you on trips across the globe then you can’t convince me they don’t love you enough to shell out a few hundred euros to make your life easier. So tell me again why I’m making a big deal about making sure my own disability is taken care of?”

Lila sputtered, before bursting into tears, “I was too embarrassed to tell you the real reason! I didn’t want you guys to think less of me for taking a break with Prince Ali to go see a concert, I didn’t mean to get so close to the amps but… the hearing loss is so new I’m still adjusting”  

Marinette glared at her, “Save the tears. Lies are pathetic tools to use and earn you no lasting loyalty, and to accuse someone of being ableist for questioning the origin of your disability, not even the disability itself is vile. Not a single person in this room would have been upset at you if you told the truth instead of tried to force the issue of fake heroics.”

She sniffled, “I’m sorry Marinette, I didn’t mean to make accusations about you or your character. I’m still on edge from the whole situation…”

Marinette let her glare drop and gave a cool, “It’s forgiven this time, now can we please figure out the seating situation?”

“Well,” the teacher stepped in, “Since Adrian agreed to be Lila’s tutor to help her catch up-”

“Actually, Miss Bustier,” Adrian raised his hand sheepishly, “I was going to bring it up with you later in private, but I really don’t think I’d be a good option to tutor Lila given how full and sporadic my schedule is already, I really would hate for her to fall enough further behind.”

“Oh crap,” Alix swore, “We didn’t even think of that when Lila suggested you!”  

Adrian just gave a slight shrug, eyes not looking up from his desk, “It’s okay, I do want to help out the class as much as possible, I feel bad never being able to help out with anything after school.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Kim brushed off, “We get your dad is really on you about everything, we’ll just have to find stuff you can do in class instead!”

“Maybe,” Mylene squirmed a little in her seat as everyone turned to face her, “I mean just a suggestion… but maybe Adrian could be Marinette’s seat partner and help her take notes. You rarely miss actual class time for your activities and this way you’re helping out without committing to any extra time that your dad might not let you come for.”

Bustier clapped, a blinding smile on her face, completely missing how Lila’s face had twisted into an angry mask, “Excellent idea! Let’s all find new seats again, Marinette and Adrian stick together in the first two rows, Lila why don’t you sit on the left side of the classroom by the windows to see if that helps your tinnitus for now. I’ll call your mother in for a proper evaluation over the next few days and we’ll find a proper course to deal with your disability. If someone would like to volunteer to be Lila’s primary tutor please take the seat next to her. Everyone else please fill in!”

Slowly the room began shifting once again. Adrien and Marinette simply switched seats to allow her to better see the room as Alya, Nino, Chloe, Sabrina, Rose, Juleka, and Nathaniel stayed in their same seats. Ivan and Mylene did move to the back row together as Max broke away from Kim to sit in the second row next to where Lila ended up and Alix slid across the aisle to take his old spot.

Alya was still looking at Marinette as if she had three heads, “Girl, what on earth was that? You’re like sunshine personified, but you just tore Lila apart like she was tissue paper.”

Nino huffed a slight laugh, “Keep forgetting you’ve only been in the class for a year, babe. You’ve never seen a Marinette takedown before.”

Marinette smiled, “Do not lie and do not do anything that might have permanent consequences. If they can not follow those two simple objectives in my presence then I will gladly set them straight. Lila not only lied but accused me of being a bigot, I will not tolerate slander.”

“Well I think it was badass,” Adrian commented, causing her to smirk wickedly.

“Thank you. It’s always nice to know my skills are appreciated.”  

“Oh do you need any notes from the last few days,” Adrian asked suddenly, sliding his notebook between them as the lesson started.  

She gazed down idly, “Not that I can think of but thank-”

Marinette had to keep her eyes from bulging as her words faded off, because in the middle of the page, squished between two facts about the Roman empire stood a simple sentence in perfect English.

I didn’t think I would see you until tonight, Ciel.

“How on earth were we this blind,” Marinette mumbled in English, earning a laugh from his once betrothed.

“Excuse me?”

The pairs heads snap towards the door as a worryingly familiar voice sounds through the room.

There in the doorway was a tall teen with shaggy raven hair as he sheepishly held out a paper towards the teacher, “Are you, Miss. Bustier? There seemed to be a mix up with my transfer papers. Mr. Damocles told me just to head down and you should have all of my forms by tomorrow, but he didn’t want to prevent me from starting today as planned.”

“Oh I hadn’t realized I was getting a new student today,” She apologized, taking the paper and skimming it briefly before turning to the room, “Class it looks like we’re getting another new face today! I want you all to welcome him with open arms! This is-”

He was shorter, a little lankier and with a rounder face then they typically saw him, looking every bit the fourteen year old he was in no doubt playing, but there was no doubt who it was.

“Sebastian,” The demon introduced, mirth dancing in those burgundy depths as he grinned up at the reincarnated duo, “Sebastian Michaelis. I look forward to joining your class.”

___________________________________

Tag List: @lividdreams9

[madiwritesthings]

Daughter of Anarchy. Chapter 1. Part 5.

3rd person’s POV.

Elizabeth and Jax pulled up at the clubhouse, Lizzie got off of her dad’s bike the second it was parked, the air around her dad right now was so tense and all she could think about was how she wanted to get away from it. In hindsight, Lizzie should have tried to talk to him, considering how lost she was feeling. Her mother in the hospital and her little brother on the verge of dying. It was a lot to take in for a 13 year old kid but her dad had enough issues and he didn’t to be dealing with hers. Lizzie threw a half smile to her dad before walking towards and into the clubhouse. She didn’t really think anyone would be awake or at least out in the clubhouse, she assumed they would shacking up with some croweater but she didn’t like thinking about that because it’s gross, so she was surprised to see Chibs sitting at the bar with Half-Sack. Both their heads snapped up at her, she really didn’t want to hear their sympathies about her mom because at this point, with Wendy, it’s nothing new.

“Hi Darlin.” Chibs said to her with a sympathetic look in his eye and on his face which Lizzie hated, she didn’t like sympathy, and to be honest it should be directed more at her dad than her, it was his son who was going to die.

“Hey Uncle Chibs.” She said, and nodding to Half-Sack as some sort of greeting, and made her way to her dad’s dorm room, when she opened the door she was hit smell of man, she couldn’t find any other way to describe it but that. It was also a mess but for tonight she could deal with it, she made a mental note to talk to her grandmother about staying with her instead of here, and thinking about it, she didn’t know why she just didn’t go with her gram in the first place. Taking a look at her dad’s dorm room made her regret that decision big time. Lizzie set down her bag and sat on her dad’s bed, she leaned her head back and just sighed. She really wasn’t in the mood to sleep and after everything that happened today she wasn’t sure she could if she wanted too. After about 5 minutes of peace, which was the only 5 minutes of peace she had gotten all day was interrupted by a knock on the door. 

“Come in” Lizzie sighed out, mentally preparing herself for a conversation with whoever was behind the door, the door opened and Chibs walked in.

“What?” Lizzie asked Chibs as he came in and sat next to her. 

“Just checkin’ on you Lass” Chibs said putting his hands up in mock way of defense. “Chill, I’m not gonna bite your head off” Lizzie said rolling her eyes “but anyway thanks for your concern, but I’m fine and dandy” Lizzie answers, Chibs looked at her, and gave her look that pretty much said“You’re lying, and I know you are, so start talking”, Lizzie didn’t like that look but she knew that there wasn’t anyway she was about to get out of this conversation. “My dad has just been you know distant, not really in the mood to talk, which I get and I don’t judge him for, he’s going though a lot too, but..” Lizzie stopped and let out a sigh. “But?” Chibs asked, egging her on to continue.

“It’s hard to explain, it just feels like he’s pulling away when I really need him most or we need each other most.” Lizzie said, she had no idea where that came from, Chibs just has a way of getting people to spill their hearts out to him, it was weird. Chibs was silent for a second and Lizzie thought for once in her life, she had finally been able to silence him, but her thoughts were interrupted when he started talking.

“Your dad loves you Darlin”, more than anything in this world, don’t ever doubt that” He said sternly. Lizzie gave him a sad smile but didn’t say anything, she really just wanted this conversation to be over, she guessed Chibs got the memo from her silence.

“Get some sleep sweetheart, we’ll talk more in the morning.” He said, leaned down and kissed her forehead and left the room, Lizzie decided to take his advice and try to sleep. She turned off the light and laid down, soon enough she was out like a light.

————————————————————————————————————————————————

“Hey, Kid.” was the first thing Lizzie heard when she woke up, and she realized she was also being shaken pretty hard.

“Yo, what the fuck?” Lizzie said as she opened her eyes and saw it was Tig.

“Ah look, sleeping beauty is awake, get up, Gemma is leavin for the hospital soon.” Tig said, Lizzie sat up and looked at Tig. “My dad here?” She asked, but she felt like she already knew the answer. 

“Nah, he left a little bit ago, but Gemma is leaving soon.” He said and left the room. Lizzie ran a hand through her hair, today was the day of Abel’s stomach surgery and she was more than nervous, she loved that kid so much already and she honestly believed she wouldn’t be able to handle if anything happened to him. After she was done getting ready she walked out of the dorm to see Sack, Chibs, Tig and Piney. 

“Mornin Darlin’” Piney greets her, Lizzie gives him a smile and nod, Tig walked over and handed her a cup of coffee that she knew for a fact he didn’t make because Tig can’t do shit on his own and made a mental note to thank Half-Sack later.

“Here, hopefully this will help with your bitchy attitude.” Tig said.

“And they say chivarly is dead.” Lizzie deadpans back, Tig just laughs and walks away to go do whatever the fuck Tig does. Lizzie walked away in search of her grandmother because she was the reason she was so rudely awoken. Lizzie made her way to the office, which was where Gemma mostly likely was, because she did spend most of her there, and surprise that’s exactly where she was.

“Hey Babe, you ready?” Gemma said as Lizzie entered her office, Lizzie nodded her head and set down her empty cup on Gemma’s desk. 

“Go wait in the car, I’ll be right there” she said, Lizzie sat her grandmother’s small car that always made her feel trapped. About 5 minutes later Gemma came out. 

“Luann is meeting us at the hospital.” Gemma said as she sat down in the car. 

“Okay.” Lizzie said, most of the car ride was silent, Gemma said a few things here and there but didn’t really try to start up a conversation. When they both arrive at the hospital, they go into the waiting area, they see Luann is already waiting for them. When she spots them, she rushes over and gives Lizzie a hug. 

“Hi Lizzie, how are you?” Luann says as she pulls away, leaving her hands on Lizzie’s shoulders.

“To be honest, I’ve been better.” Lizzie says, a little shocked. 

“I can only imagine.” Luann says and removes her hands from her shoulders. Lizzie, Gemma and Luann all sit and wait for the doctors to come out and update them on Abel.

——————————————————————————————————————

About an hour later, Dr. Knowles came out, they all stood up and walked over to her. 

“Abel’s stomach surgery went well, but it’s putting a strain on his system. Dr Namid doesn’t want to wait, thinks we should do the heart surgery now.” She said.

“Okay so what happens—“ Gemma starts but Tara interrupts her.

“A specialist is on his way from San Francisco, one of the best pediatric cardiovascular surgeons in the country. Soon as he gets here, we’ll begin the procedure on Abel’s heart.” Tara said.

“That’s good right?, that they aren’t waiting?” Lizzie asks, Tara looks at her and her eyes go soft from the previous “doctor eyes” as Lizzie calls them. 

“It’s the best choice, yes” Tara answers and gives Lizzie a smile. “Okay, Thank you.” Gemma says. After a beat of silence Tara turns to Gemma.

“Can we talk?” Tara asks. Gemma looks at Luann and Lizzie.

“We’ll be right here baby.” Luann says and leads Lizzie away, even though she didn’t really want to go, Lizzie shots Gemma a look that reminds Tara so much of Jax that she has to look away, when she looks back she notices Lizzie is now looking at her, and gives her a smile and walks away with Gemma. 

“What is it?” Gemma asks.

“Wendy’s in really bad shape, Can’t stop crying.” Tara says, Gemma rolls her eyes.

“And?” She asks.

“I was hoping you could talk to her, or at least let her see her daughter. Just let her know she’s not all alone.” Tara says, automatically assuming Gemma is the reason that Lizzie won’t see Wendy.

“Trust me, nothing I’m gonna say to that crank whore is gonna make her feel loved.” Gemma says.

“Forgot just how forthright you could be.” Tara says back sarcastically. 

“You forgot a lot of things, sweetheart.” Gemma says, she wasn’t going to stand there and let the doctor who left her son talk to her like that. 

“If you have a problem with assisting on Abel’s case, just say so.” Tara says completely done with Gemma. 

“You a good doctor?” Gemma asks.

“Yes” Tara answers quickly. 

“Then I don’t have a problem” Gemma says. 

“Okay.” Tara says and starts to walk away when Gemma pulls up her shirt, this draws Lizzie’s attention and she sees the crow on Tara’s back, she assumed she got that for her dad, because all old lady’s do. 

“Guess there are something you can’t change” Gemma says.

“I leave it there as reminder that all the shit is behind is me” Tara says.

“I forgot just how clever you can be” Gemma says.

“If you change your mind, Wendy’s in there” Tara walks away and goes down the hallway and Gemma comes back to Luann and Lizzie. 

“What was all that about?” Lizzie asks Gemma.

“Nothing baby, don’t worry about it” she answers. As she, Gemma and Luann walk away, she makes it one of her top priorities to have a private conversation with Dr. Knowles. 

———————————

Tag List: @oh-no-stenbrough

Authors Note: So I’m backkkk, I tried a new style of writing for the story hoping it works better because I really wanted to be able to give more detail and I also tried to expand the relationship between Lizzie and the guys, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I might be able to post another one today but I’m not sure, I love you all and thank you for the support. 

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Playing With Fire~ Part 5

Pairing: Michael Gray x Pregnant! Reader

Warnings: HORRIBLY WRITTEN SMUT

A/N: I am so sorry this chapter took so long to write and I’m also sorry that it sucks so much. This felt like pulling teeth to write for whatever reason and I’m really hoping that the next ones will be better! Thanks for sticking with me! 

____________________________

This was it. This was the last time that you’d be looking at yourself as a L/N. As of about ten minutes from now, you were going to officially be a Gray (and by proxy, a Shelby). You took a deep breath as you waited to be allowed to turn and see yourself in the mirror as Ada and Esme fiddled around you, adjusting your dress, your veil, your makeup. 

Finally, they pulled back and inspected their work before Ada announced, “Alright, Y/N, go ahead and look.” You shook your hands nervously, turning towards the reflective glass. Slowly, your eyes followed your body and when they did, you gasped. 

Wow. 

You couldn’t remember ever feeling so beautiful. The dress was absolutely perfect, a gift from your mother. The white was crisp, the beading was intricately placed but not too flashy, the gorgeous lace graced the floor when you walked. And it was comfortable around your growing belly without making you feel self-conscious about how large you’d gotten. The veil that was draped down your back was made of the same sheer fabric as the outer layer of your dress and trimmed with the same lace as well. You couldn’t believe that she was able to make such a beautiful gown. 

Your eyes were dusted with dark eyeshadow, courtesy of Esme, and your E/C shone through brighter than anything you’d ever been able to do with makeup on your own. An ever so slightly redder tint than your skin tone was used on your lips and it was the perfect finishing touch to the look. 

“Do you like it?” Ada asked and you realized that you hadn’t said anything yet. 

“I love it. I feel… pretty.” You exhaled with a smile. You turned in the mirror, running your hands over your dress and they came to settle on your belly. It was all happening. This was your future. 

The door opened, drawing all of your attention. Polly peeked her head in, ready to say something but she stopped and smiled when she saw you. “They’re ready to start.” She announced. 

You took a deep breath and nodded before following her out the door to the garden outside of Tommy’s house, who’d volunteered to let you hold your wedding there. John stood with Esme and Finn stood with Lizzie as your bridesmaids and groomsmen while Isaiah and Ada were linking arms, ready to lead the procession as your maid of honor and best man. You took your place behind the most adorably dressed Charles for your ring bearer and one of John’s daughters as your flower girl. 

Your father was waiting for you, standing strongly in his suit. Things had still been tense but they were getting better between the two of you. He was able to stand being in the same room as you now and when you’d told him that you still wanted him to give you away at your wedding, he actually said yes to you. 

“Hi.” You greeted quietly with a small smile, not really knowing what you were supposed to say. 

Your father looked down at you and his eyes widened, “Y/N!” He gasped in disbelief of the woman who stood before him. 

“You clean up nice, kid.” You tried to tease, running your hand over his suit. 

Your father cracked a smile - the first time you’d seen him smile in almost a month - and brushed your veil out of your face, “Yeah, you too.” 

The music started, an indistinct yet beautiful song played by some of Polly’s Roma relatives, and the procession began, the group slowly withering away until it was just you and your father. Even though there was no doubt in your mind that you wanted to marry Michael, your heart still raced with nervousness. Before you knew it, you were being pulled along around the corner by your father who’d been more in the moment than you and knew it was your turn to walk. 

When you turned and stopped at the beginning of the aisle, the shuffling of people standing in the grass could be heard and you were painfully aware of all the eyes on you. That is, until you saw Michael standing at the wooden alter ahead, looking beyond handsome in his black suit. 

Step by step, you made your way to the alter, bouquet of wildflowers in hand, and smiling whenever you made eye contact with an excited guest. Finally, you made it to the end where Michael took your hand, leading you up to face him. “Wow… You look absolutely stunning.” He couldn’t take his eyes off of you and your skin burned red under his admiration. 

“I was gonna say the same about you.” You looked up at him through your long lashes. 

“You may be seated.” The Jeremiah Jesus announced and the crowd followed his orders as you and Michael turned to face him, “We are gathered here today to join the families of Michael Gray and Y/N L/N in a marriage of love, commitment, and trust.” The pastor continued on with his speech, quoting the bible at certain parts and finally he got to the vows, “Michael, you prepared vows?” 

Michael looked up nervously, his hands sweaty in yours, but he cleared his throat, “Mm, yeah.” He straightened up, looking at your directly, “Y/N, I know that things haven’t gone as expected so far but I want you to know that I’m glad that they’ve happened the way they did. Not only am I getting to marry the most beautiful, caring, strong woman I’ve ever met but I’m getting to become a father too.

I never told you but I’ve liked you for long before we actually went out on a date. I used to purposely take jobs near your shop just so I could see you but for some reason I could never figure out how to say anything. I know that this looks like a shotgun wedding but I swear to you that I would have married you eventually anyway.” The crowd laughed, along with you, “But I also swear that I will always love and protect you for as long as we live.” 

Your heart swelled at his words and tears began to streak down your cheeks, which you quickly wiped away. 

“And Y/N?” Jeremiah prompted. 

You smiled nervously, “Michael, you are the most amazing man I’ve ever met and, like you said, we’re in an odd situation but that doesn’t change how I feel about you. Baby or not, I can’t picture spending my life with anyone else. I promise to be faithful and to love you until the day we die and then some. I love you Michael Gray.” 

Jeremiah handed you the rings and you gracefully slid them on each others fingers, Michael’s a simple gold band and yours an elegant white gold band with a set of diamonds that looked like a tiny flower. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride.” 

With an ecstatic smile, you reached in, hands gently coming to pull Michael in towards you, lips colliding in a kiss you’d never felt before. This was romantic and passionate but something new. If this was what married kissing felt like, you could get used to it. 

Later that night, you found yourself and Michael dancing around a fire made of five broomsticks to upbeat music with everyone dancing all around you. The reception lasted deep into the night and it showed no signs of slowing down. 

You and Michael stood hand in hand, laughing at something Isaiah was saying when Polly approached you, “Can I try something?” She asked obscurely.

Both you and your new husband looked at her strangely. “What is it?” Michael asked. 

Polly looked as if her hands were itching, “I just- I want to see if I’m right about something.” 

“Sure?” You agreed, anxious as to what exactly you agreed to. Polly’s hands slowly outstretched towards you, one landing on your stomach and the other solidly on your breast. Your eyes widened in shock, her action taking you off guard, “Oh! Okay…” You stood still. 

“Mum!” Michael groaned, exasperated. You trusted Polly though. You didn’t pull away at all though, the look on her face telling you that she meant no harm by her actions. 

Polly’s eyes suddenly lit up as she smiled, “I was right.” 

You looked at her curiously, “What do you mean?” 

“I’m having a little grandson.” 

“How do you know?” You asked, wondering how on Earth she possibly could have that knowledge. 

Polly finally removed her hands, tears brimming at her darkly painted eyes, “I’ve had third sight all my life. It’s a boy.” 

The simple declaration made your heart swell and you choked a little, looking up excitedly at Michael who’s eyes were shining just as excitedly as yours. “We’re having a little boy!” 

Your smile broke into a giddy laughter as Michael reached his arm around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. “Oh my God… I’m gonna have a son.” The two of you stood in each other’s arms like that for a moment until the clanking of metal on glass stole the room’s attention. 

Arthur stood at the head of the room, “I’ve never been much good at making speeches or nothin’ but I just wanted to say how ‘appy I am that you two have found each other. Michael, that’s one beautiful wife you’ve managed to snag there and Y/N, I guess Michael is alright.” The entire room laughed, “Welcome to the family.” 

That speech launched a slew of others as the night came to a close and soon you found yourself getting into the front seat of Michael’s car while people threw rice at you, an odd tradition now that you were on the receiving end of it. 

“Holy fuck,” you muttered, glancing up at your husband, “We’re married!” A giddy laugh escaped your lips. 

Michael reached over, his large hand engulfing yours, “Yeah we are. And you know one of the best parts of getting married? The wedding night.” He suggested with a wiggle of his eyebrow. 

When you’d finally gotten home, you began to open your door when Michael called for you to stop, jumping out and running to open the door for you. You rolled your eyes at him, “Thank you.” 

You started to walk to the front door when he stopped you again, “Do you have any idea how this is supposed to work?” Without any notice, he swooped up behind you, scooping you up bridal style. “Michael! Put me down before you break yourself! I’m a whale right now!” You pleaded, hoping he wouldn’t hurt himself carrying you to the front door. To Michael, your weight was effortless though and it hurt him to hear that you thought you were so inhumanly large. 

Once inside, he set you down, arms wrapping around you and he leaned his forehead down to rest on yours, “Y/N, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met and this right here,” He paused as his hands came to rest on your swollen belly, “This is just a testament to how incredibly strong you are. I don’t want you to ever think that this makes you ugly or fat or anything like that because, in all honesty, I think the fact that you’re carrying my baby is quite sexy.” 

His soft lips gently touched yours as your eyes slid closed, leaning in to his words and his touch. Slowly, he trailed his kisses down your neck and you let out a breathy moan as he lightly scraped his teeth across that spot he knew drove you wild. “Michael…” 

“What is it, love?” He whispered, continuing his work. 

“I love you.” 

He pulled back, looking into your eyes, “I love you too.” And just like that, the night was off. Michael took your hands and led you to your bedroom for the first time as husband and wife. He pressed his lips to yours again as he began to undo the buttons on the back of your dress, beginning to get irritated after the third or fourth one, “How many damn buttons does a dress need?” He asked, grabbing you by the shoulders and spinning you around so he could get a better view of the buttons he had to undo. 

You laughed at him, reaching back to help but he smacked your hands away, “I’ve got this!” Finally, after about a minute, the dress slid off of your body, leaving you in a special set of underwear you’d made just for tonight. Turning back to face Michael, you pulled his coat off and slid his suspenders off his shoulders, his fingers quickly coming to undo his buttons as well. 

Everything about tonight felt different from your usual whirlwind hot and heavy sessions you’d had at the beginning of your relationship. Aside from the fact that you hadn’t really had sex since finding out you were pregnant, this was slow and romantic. It was a totally different kind of exhilerating. 

You stood facing each other, looking at each other in a totally new light. His eyes scanned across every mark on your skin and he couldn’t believe how gorgeous you could still possibly be. You looked across every scar he’d acquired through work and life and couldn’t help but find every imperfection perfect. 

Unable to take the tension anymore, you stood up onto your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips finally, his hands coming to wrap around your waist. Your hands came to rest on his neck as you pulled him in deeper. 

Michael stepped you back, not breaking the kiss, until the back of your thighs bumped into the bed. He stood up to kick his shoes off and discard of his pants, leaving him only in his underwear as he looked down at you. He leaned down, ready to kiss you again, before asking, “Is this alright, love? I mean, can we still… y’know, even with the baby?” 

You nodded, “Yes Michael, you can still fuck me while I’m pregnant.” 

He shook his head, fingers hooking into your panties and he slowly pulled them down, “No, darling, I’m going to make love to you.” 

His gentleness sent a shiver down your spine and you were sure it was impossible to be this wet. Just as your underwear had disappeared, so did your bra but his hands came to quickly cover your breasts as he gently just ran his fingertips over them, knowing how sensitive they were and not always in a good way. The light touch had your back arching into his fingers with a sigh of pleasure. 

As he played with your breasts, you reached down between your bodies, palming him through his boxers. He let out a low groan at your touch, his blue eyes closing shut. Your fingers moved around him slowly, working him up until he was fully hard. His hand shot down to grab your wrist, “Love, if you don’t stop, we’re not gonna get much further.” 

He reached behind you and grabbed a few pillows, “Sit up,” He told you and you obeyed with his help. Michael set up the pillows behind your back so you could lie back more comfortably, “Is that alright?” He asked. 

You nodded, “Yeah, thank you. Now Michael, get inside of me.” You were desperate for his touch, for him to fill you up. It had been so long. 

Michael’s cock twitched at your vulgar words but was quick to oblige. His underwear disappeared and he pumped himself a few times before lining himself up at your entrance, rubbing his tip along your folds, “God, love, you’re so wet.” 

“Michael…” You groaned out when his tip rubbed your clit. 

His hand reached down, entertwining fingers in yours, “If anything starts hurting or feels off, tell me and I’ll stop. The last thing I want is to hurt you or the baby.” 

You reached up to caress his cheek, “You won’t hurt us.” You insisted. 

“If I do though, you need to promise me you’ll say something.” His eyes held so much concern that it just reassured you that you picked the right man to spend the rest of your life with. 

“I promise.” 

With that, he slowly pressed into you, careful to look for any signs of distress on your face but there was nothing but pleasure. 

“God, you’re so tight.” His eyes screwed shut once he finally allowed himself to relax for a second. Once he bottomed out, he stopped, “Everything okay?” 

You nodded frantically, eyebrows knit together at the feeling of being so full, “Mhm, just go ahead and move.” 

Michael slowly moved his hips back before re-entering you and once a pace was set, he never faltered. Your grip on his hand tightened when his free hand moved down to rub tight circles on your clit, “Oh my gosh.” You moaned, throwing your head back. 

It had been so long since either of you had been with each other that it really didn’t take long until you were ready to burst. The coil in your stomach began to tighten and it was only amplified when he hit that spot deep inside you that made your toes curl. Michael could feel you clench around him, “Right there?” 

You nodded, your hand going to grip his bicep tightly as he angled himself to hit that spot repeatedly. “I’m so close.” He told you, his cock twitching inside you. 

“Me too. I’m so fucking close.” Your body was on fire as you tried as hard you could to hold off your orgasm. 

Michael’s circles on your clit got faster and harder, “Cum for me, love. Cum all over my cock.” 

His filthy words sent you into a spiral over the edge and the way your muscles tightened around him set off Michael’s orgasm as well. His cum painted your walls as he slowly worked you both through your orgasms until you were shaking. 

When he finally pulled out, a mixture of your arousal and his seed dripped out of you in the most erotic display he’d ever seen. He crashed to the bed next to you, breathing heavily as he wrapped his arms around you, never wanting to let you go. You rolled over into his embrace and brushed his messy hair down with your fingers. His eyes slid shut at the gentle relaxing tug on his hair. “I love you.” He whispered, eyes still closed but a content smile on his face.

“I love you too.”

Taglist: 

@bat-shark-repellant

@awwhhsnapple

@gracethegeek9902