#i think these turned out vey well

[virmire]

i saw @shadovvheart's inquisitor portraits and felt very inspired to make my own!

so here's estrid cadash, in all her glory!

[noxtivagus]

i remember again n feel better hehe 🥹🤍

[harmoonix]

𝐑𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

(astrology observations)

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🖼️: Moon in the 8th house has a lot of deep meanings behind it and the sad part is that sometimes it can cause pain/suffering but it comes with its good things as well if you have your moon at 8° or 20° you can feel the same

🖼️:Water Moon + Fire Sun combo in your chart gives a vibe of both short temper + chill temper, is like a mix between a spicy and sour seasonings

🖼️: Ascendant at 4°, 16° 28° degrees have the cutest face expressions (Cancer Energy), like when they smile or make a specific face

🖼️: Ascendant at 10°, 22° degrees can give you a beautiful looking face and in general your body too, so many people out where look stunning with those degrees on the ascendant

🖼️:Those with Jupiter in the sign of Cancer/4th house can feel the most lucky when they think about their family or creating their own families, it gives them an excitement energy

🖼️: Most people will argue about this but Venus in Scorpio is tricky as hell with the relationships because Venus is in detriment, Scorpio Venus may not know how to act when they're in love or in a relationship

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🖼️: Sagittarius Risings will 100% wanna look for someone who is very communicative with them, and someone who can express their feelings in a relationship (Gemini in the 7th house)

🖼️:Moon in Capricorn/Moon in the 10th house natives can be the ones who have a hard time with telling their true feelings, most of them are close people and don't want to get hurt

🖼️: Lilith asteroid (1181) aspecting Mercury gets excited about hearing other people's voice, like some voice can turn them up just by hearing them

🖼️: Saturn in the 10th house feels like a dad who is constantly watching over you, because Saturn feels at home here is a healthy placements for Saturn and let's say Saturn transforms into a dad figure

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🖼️: Chiron in Aries/ at 1°, 13°, 25° degrees can struggle with their anger issues or having a hard time to calm themselves sometimes having a hard time to focus on themselves too and tends to forget about things that make them happy

🖼️: Taurus in the 4th house/Venus in the 4th house > They don't express their sensuality often but when they do people get stunned by it. Most natives with this energy make people to feel safe and at home/peace

🖼️: Most Taurus Risings i know have such cute voices and I think is because they have Gemini and cancer rulling their 2nd and 3rd houses (The combo of air + water makes this energy). Definitely they got the physical touch love sign with their Scorpio in the 7th house

🖼️: When it comes to the past I think South Node in the 9th/12th and 8th house makes the native to wonder a lot of about it or to have a lot of questions towards their past lives

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🖼️: Natives with 5th house empty usually don't want kids, until there is some love asteroid like, for example i have asteroid Aphrodite (1388) in this house but overall my house is empty (no planets just asteroids) and I don't want or wish kids

🖼️: I think Air Risings and Air Moons are the most social people out there because of their open communicative aura/social skills/ they're pretty ambient in their energy as well and they have a good humour tho

🖼️: Sun in the 1st house natives makes the native to be so determined and focused towards their life, they're so ambitious and powerful and their energy overall is just amazing

🖼️: Neptune aspecting Pluto or Uranus makes the native so spiritual, like is amazing they're getting more wise with their age and more mature

🖼️: Neptune in the 12th house has a surreal needy of getting closer with other people's feelings/like they want to know your soul first and before all

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🖼️: Pisces/Cancer and Virgo placements especially Moon are vey underatted when it comes to being clingy and clinginess, they're so clingy but they don't show it at first

🖼️: Virgo Risings have a very dirty way of talking because of their Scorpio in the 3rd house, they're so so so dirty in talking (when angry they may cuss a lot)

🖼️: Taurus Lilith is so so touchy and needy but they dont usually show it...like they will give you some signs or indications but most of these natives are just hidden sensualists

🖼️: Be careful if you have Lilith in Cancer or Lilith in the 4th house or at Cancer Degrees because you can "absorb" in a way the negative things from your mother, and the meaning of this placement is to NOT be like your mother (you know what I mean like in toxic ways or tendencies)

🖼️: You will never know what is going through the mind of the Uranus in the 1st house, they are thinking at multiple things at once and often can get distracted

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🖼️: Groom asteroid in your 9th house can indicate having a foreign spouse (if you are attracted to men) if you are attracted to women check Briede asteroid

Asteroids Codes: 5129, 19029

🖼️: Groom 5129 in the 12th house can indicate soulmates or twin flames, maybe even a karmic partner, someone's who's very passionate and sensitive

🖼️: Mercury aspecting Neptune or Mars (Or having those planets in the same house) makes the native "sharp mind - sharp tongue", they are extremely intelligent but can also fool people

🖼️: Jupiter aspecting Venus (all aspects) are so beautiful, when Jupiter aspects Venus it expands your beauty/charm/love to everyone and puts you in the spotlight

🖼️: Jupiter aspecting the Ascendant are the most underrated when it comes to beauty in Astrology, Jupiter literally is blessing you when is touching the ascendant

🖼️: Scorpio/Aquarius/Pisces/ Risings are having 2 ruler planets that can influence their lives, check your both ruler planets when you have one of these 3 risings. Look for Mars and Pluto for Scorpio/Look for Jupiter and Neptune with Pisces/Look for Saturn and Uranus with Aquarius 💅🏼

✨ With all the love, bless you all! ✨

✨ From the past, present or future ✨

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[amiableness]

Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 1260 words

this is part one of this blurb! the next part will be smut! this was supposed to one whole blurb, but unfortunately, i can't stop adding details

A week had passed since that toe-curling, heart stopping kiss with James, yet the memory clung to you, refusing to loosen its grip. Every moment replayed in your mind—the way his breath had mingled with yours, the warmth of his lips, the intoxicating mix of hesitation and desire that had crackled between you. It was impossible to shake, no matter how hard you tried to push it to the back of your mind.

But life, as it often does, had intervened. Work had been intense for both of you. His late nights at the office, followed by early morning school drop-offs, and your endless deadlines and marathon meetings had drained you both, leaving little room for anything else—especially the conversation you so desperately needed.

But you were hoping tonight would be different. He’d asked if you could watch Henry, and you’d never refused him before. And you weren’t about to start now.

“Darling?” Henry mumbled, his voice carrying that endearing tone that always made you smile. As he grew older, the nickname was losing its childish lisp, becoming clearer and more deliberate with each passing day. You couldn't let yourself dwell on it, knowing it would bring you to tears. And as much as it weighed on you, you couldn't even begin to imagine how James was feeling.

“Yeah, my love?” You hummed, your eyes still fixed on The Rescuers playing on the TV. Henry had insisted on watching it in James’s room because he wanted to “see the mice all big.” At first, you hesitated, unsure if being surrounded by James’s scent was a good idea. But Henry’s excitement was impossible to resist, and you found yourself giving in, despite your nerves.

“When is daddy back?”

“Um,” You glance at the alarm clock on his nightstand. “Soon I would think.”

“Oh.” Henry murmurs, shifting closer to cuddle into your side, his tiny hand reaching out to grasp yours. The two of you are nestled under the dark duvet, surrounded by the seven stuffed animals he insisted on bringing along. “I miss him,” he whispers, his voice tinged with quiet sadness.

“I’m sure he misses you too.” You say, offering him a gentle smile. He looks up at you with those unmistakable eyes—his father’s eyes—brown and sweet, carrying the same warmth that James’ have. His dark curls fall messily across his forehead, a mirror of James’s unruly hair. Even the curve of his smile, so innocent yet so familiar, pulls at your heart. It’s impossible not to see James in every feature, every expression, and every little gesture Henry makes. 

All you can think about is James.

“Do you miss daddy?” Your lips part, flustered and caught off guard by the question. For a second you debate lying, but you realize there’s no point. 

“Yes, I miss him too.” You finally murmur, and Henry’s face lights up with a grin, as if he’s just heard the most wonderful thing. He turns his gaze back to the TV, his attention returning to the movie, while he snuggles his stuffed dinosaur tightly in the hand that isn’t holding yours. The sight of him, so content and secure, tugs at your heart.

The movie has long finished and another has begun, but you’re oblivious to it all. Henry is fast asleep, nestled into your side, and you’re not far behind. Your focus is solely on threading your fingers gently through Henry’s dark curls. The rhythmic motion that had soothed him to sleep now lulls you as well, your eyes growing heavy with each tender stroke.

“Hey.” James murmurs with a warm, inviting smile, immediately drawing your gaze to the doorway where he stands. His white button-up shirt is casually open at the collar, the top two buttons undone, revealing a hint of his chest. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and as he crosses his arms, the fabric tightens over his biceps, accentuating their firm definition. Your eyes slowly trace down to his forearms, where the veins are subtly prominent. The combination of his relaxed stance and the his snug shirt makes your pulse quicken.

You resist the urge to fan yourself.

You swallow hard, struggling to pull your gaze back up. “Hi,” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

He grins, and you know instantly he’s caught you. “What are you two doing in here?” He asks, walking further into his room, glancing down at the stuffies with a soft chuckle

“Henry missed you,” You say softly. “That and he wanted to watch a movie on the big TV.”

“Of course he did.” James says with a soft, knowing tone. He rounds the bed and settles next the side closest to Henry. With a gentle touch, he brushes a few stray curls from his son's forehead, his fingers lingering for a moment. Then, leaning down, he places a tender kiss on Henry’s forehead.

“I’m going to put him to bed.” James says softly, his voice soft as he looks up at you from his kneeling position by the bed. You nod quickly, your words caught in your throat.

You watch as James moves with practiced ease, sliding one hand tenderly behind Henry’s back and slipping the other under his knees. He lifts him carefully, his movements gentle yet confident, raising Henry up and off your chest. As he does, Henry lets out a soft whine, his small face scrunching up in a mix of sleepiness and longing. With a tiny, outstretched arm, he reaches toward you, his fingers stretching as far as they can go, desperate to grab you.

“No.” He huffs, his eyes opening the tiniest bit to glance up at his dad.

“It’s bedtime.” James says softly, drawing Henry close to his chest and gently reaching down to grab the stuffed dinosaur Henry clings to. 

“No! But I—” Henry protests, wriggling in James’s arms. He twists around, casting a desperate look over his shoulder at you. “I want mummy.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and your eyes dart to James, wide with shock. He mirrors your surprise. With one arm securely wrapped around Henry’s squirming body, he struggles to keep his son from wriggling free. Henry’s little face is flushed with frustration, his eyes locked onto yours as he reaches out with tiny, pleading hands, desperate for your comfort.

“Do you want to say goodnight to mum before bed?” James asks quietly, leaning down to speak into Henry’s ear. Henry stops squirming instantly and nods. Gently, James places his son back onto the bed, and Henry immediately flings himself at you, wrapping his arms around your neck. He collides with you with a soft thud, and you hear James mutter about being gentle with you.

“Goodnight,” You say whisper, one arm holding him to you and the other holding the back of his head. “I love you bunches. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Your eyes flicker up to meet James’ who is watching you with an indescribable look.

“Love you.” Henry mumbles, the sleepiness in his voice affecting his pronunciation. Then he leans back and plants a big kiss on your forehead, mimicking the affectionate gesture he’s seen his father make so many times. You laugh quietly and press a kiss on his nose in return. Satisfied, Henry crawls back to his father and lifts his arms. James picks him up, his gaze lingering on you.

“I’ll be right back.” James says softly before heading to Henry’s room. As he walks away, Henry peeks over his shoulder and waves a tiny hand at you.

please reblog or comment with your thoughts! they are very appreciated and keep me motivated to keep writing! 🤍

part two here!

[risuola]

VIII — HOPES AND DREAMS // F. READER x TOBIRAMA SENJU

You had given him the world, he held it in his hands and shed tears of joy for the first time sinc ehe was a child.

contents: fluff — 0,8k words

a/n: i can't tell you how incredibly sorry i am for updating this series so rarely. i genuinely like this series, i love tobirama and i am grateful for each and every one of you who reads this ❥ this chapter is much shorter than the rest, but the one that follows (that's in the writing!) will most likely be longer! that being said, we're heading towards the conclusion of this series, i think.

POLITICALLY LOVELESS || SERIES MASTERLIST

Tobirama didn’t remember when was the day he cried for the last time. Was it at his brother’s burial? No, he didn’t cry back then, he was the strong one for Hashirama. After losing so many family members and seeing so many deaths and spilling so much blood, he thought he’s no longer capable of crying, but ever since he’s met you, you proved him wrong on many things he thought he’s not able to do anymore.

You loved him like no one else, you melted his long-frozen heart and caused it to beat again and it was beating solely for you since the day you first kissed him. He remembered the day as if it was yesterday, when for the first time your lips brushed against his own. It was an accident, he thought, you aimed for his cheek but he turned his head and then the world stopped for a moment. Or so he thought, it sure felt like it. Your lips were soft, warm, plush against his own and he flushed like never before. Like a teenager, but you smiled and kissed him for the second time — on purpose. Because you wanted to. And he wanted that as well. You were a blessing, a true gift and he thought nothing better will happen to him. He thought that the luck reserves have already run out because he’s got all he could’ve ever wished for. You proved him wrong again.

The tears rolled down his face in silence, he was careful not to wake you up — he was careful not to wake up the world you have given him. A baby, his baby, a bundle of joy that rested on his chest, wrapped tightly in a soft blanket, sleeping peacefully in his arms. Unaware of anything or anyone and yet, instinctively leaning into his heartbeat. Tobirama couldn’t believe it was real. Was it even real? It was, it had to be, he could feel it.

The baby was small, too tiny to hold in his large palms and he was scared to hurt it. But the boy was calm, a gentle smile lingering on his pouty mouth and his miniature hand wrapped around the tip of Tobirama’s finger. He was beautiful, with your charm and Senju could’ve sworn he saw a glimpse of your eye color when his son opened his eyes just barely for a second or two. The tiny tuft of pristine white hair stuck out of his little head, already unruly and Tobirama couldn’t help but sob quietly.

You gave him a child. You gave him a son, a life made of you and him. You gave him hope, another reason to love more, to love harder. You gave him another creature to care and protect and he was ready to take on the challenge because just as much he loved you, he already loved the little human in his arms. The puffy cheeks and long eyelashes. The few kilograms of nothing but joy and affection.

“I’ve never seen you cry,” your voice was hushed when it cut through the quiet in the room. Tobirama leaned into you and you reached towards his face, your gentle thumb wiping the tears from his cheeks as you cradled him in your grasp.

“I don’t remember when I cried for the last time,” he confessed, half-whispering his words, careful to not wake the treasure he had on his heart. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.”

Your life was a dream. It truly was and you owed it all to Tobirama. Your husband. The man you love to the very core of your existence, the beautiful soul that opened itself before you and allowed you in. You basked in the caring interiors, in all the gentle touches and desperate kisses. He’s got your blood pump frantically in your veins and your body melt against his warmth; he’s got you smile like you never did before and love like you thought you’ll never do. And now, he’s made you a mother.

“You look beautiful,” he said and you couldn’t help but chuckle. Your heart fluttered in your chest and you knew you probably look tired. You felt tired, exhausted even, but the pain was long gone. The moment you went into labor, one of the best medics from the village joined your side to tend to your health and you couldn’t be more grateful for it.

“Aren’t you the sweetest husband,” you teased and he smiled through the tears that stained his handsome features. “Are those tears of joy?”

“Certainly,” he turned his head slightly to kiss the heel of your hand. “You made the dreams come true, the ones I thought I couldn’t afford to have and I promise you, I vow, that I’ll protect you and our son with all of my might.”

“I know you will, my beloved lord.”

taglist: @garouaddict @bluebreadenthusiast @nelivv @drthymby @humongousdreamlandbear @darlingxoxo15 @gaozorous-rex-blog @hanamisofficialspouse @claireshelby

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XIX)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

PART ONE is here PART TWO is here PART THREE is here PART FOUR is here and PART FIVE is here PART SIX is here and PART SEVEN is here PART EIGHT is here PART NINE is here PART TEN is here PART ELEVEN is here PART TWELVE is here PART THIRTEEN is here PART FOURTEEN is here PART FIFTEEN is here PART SIXTEEN is here PART SEVENTEEN is here PART EIGHTEEN is here...nineteen...oy vey.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... THE BART RETURNS! The earth rejoices! 🥳🎉 Physical therapy can be fun, even if it usually isn't!

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

Danny learns a few more words with practice.

Foda is simple. If Danny is hungry, he can ask for foda. It sounds exactly like food, and when he asks, they feed him.

…Or they up his IV. Which. Danny’s tongue might still feel sore and nasty, but the doctors and nurses and millions of minders don’t seem that mad when he sticks his tongue out at them. Sometimes they even laugh.

They don’t even sound all that mean.

It takes Danny a good chunk of waking time for him to realize that he…probably is hooked up to something he doesn’t want to think about, since all the efforts of lifting and moving him haven’t resulted in a single bathroom trip since he woke up here.

Firstly: horrible.

Secondly: his legs are super, absolutely, positively immobilized, and if someone doesn’t give him enough medication quickly enough after it wears off, Danny is very aware that something is deeply wrong with them.

So. Uh. That’s…gross.

He learns bealo just as quickly. He isn’t sure what bealo means, per se, but when he says it, they up his medication until Danny can pretend he doesn’t have any legs again.

God niht is goodnight, unless Danny is feeling snippy, and then it’s just niht.

…The one lady who minds him always says the whole thing, though. Even when Danny’s mean. Like the one time he threw his rocket at someone.

Or the time he started ignoring everyone when they tried to touch him.

…Or the one time he tried to freeze his IV bag, and put everyone on alert because if he’d been human, that would have seriously hurt him.

“Sorry,” Danny’d whispered, even if it wouldn’t mean anything to her.

She’d patted his hand and meant it. Danny’d had to dry his eyes with his wrist. “Eall es wel.”

Anyway.

Danny hates being in the freaking bed every hour of every day. So when his “sitting up” exercises turn into “hey, let’s try the wheelchair” practice, Danny gets so excited-slash-nervous that he kind of feels like he’s going to throw up all the liquids he’s been injected with.

None of the regular people try to lift him. Instead the lady does it herself, scooping Danny up in very strong arms, the golden cuffs on her wrists weirdly warm on Danny’s skin. When Danny’s settled, his legs sticking out real weird and his back kind of sore, he’s…out of bed.

He’s. He’s not in bed anymore.

And. Sure. It’s temporary, but it’s not the bed. Danny can wriggle, and he can sort of palm the wheels underneath him with the heels of his shaky hands, and he can see so much more of himself than he has in ages and ages.

For one. Both of his legs are in casts. That’s. Not good. He can’t feel it right now, but the sight of fully encased legs…

Well. If he can transform that won’t be a problem. If. If he has to escape. But it is…it’s super scary. He mostly remembers being captured, but the…the other people had been focusing more on his thoracic cavity and his face and head.

…So why are his legs so bad? Did something else happen?

(It did, didn’t it?)

(…Didn’t it??)

His hands shake, but there’s something to all that grip training, or else Danny wouldn’t be able to paw at his neckline to look down his own shirt. Or, well, his cloth nightie, anyway.

It’s good that he looks, since, well…his chest is glowing a solid green.

Whatever should probably be scar tissue. Uh. It…isn’t. There’re gouges down his chest and a crater where his heart should be that probably should be healing over, considering, you know, he’s not freaking dead at this exact second (mostly??), but. Instead of, like, healed flesh, or, say, his insides, there’s a transparent green…jelly… holding him together.

He can see how the green bounces with his heart beat.

...Danny drops the neckline of his gown. His breath comes in choking bursts, eyes pressed into his eye sockets—he feels sick.

He is sick. He has been sick.

The humans are keeping him here because he’s a freak of nature and he’s broken from head to toe and the Guys in White carved his flesh out of his body and opened him up like a can of cranberry sauce.

He presses his hands to his chest, to his stomach, just trying to breathe for long enough that he doesn’t throw up his oatmeal and occasional juice and IV nutrition onto the pristine floor of his sickroom. The people around him all make sympathetic noises that don’t help because he doesn’t know what they mean.

And then he feels something weird.

Not all the sensation in his fingers are back. It’s easier for him to feel impediments than it is to feel textures—something that blocks him from moving, rather than anything sensory-specific. He can usually tell when he touches fabric, because when he moves too far, it pulls tight around his hand. He can tell when he’s on something solid when his hand fails to go through it.

There is something solid sticking out of him.

Danny’s heartbeat quickens. It’s not. It’s. There’s something in him.

And it’s not—it’s so solid. When Danny brushes his hands against it, he can feel his skin and his flesh move with it, trying not to dislodge the thing embedded in him. It pulls at his skin. He doesn’t know what it is.

His fingers tremble as he tries to brush over the object through his gown, trying to figure out its shape from faulty touch alone. It’s like waking up to find himself jammed with needles all over again.

People are talking around them. Danny doesn’t try to listen in. He’s scared. He’s so scared. Something’s happened to him, and he didn’t even notice.

Some of it is—hard. There’s a crinkling sound when he moves. Danny manages to pull his gown neckline back again to catch something of a glimpse, and all he sees is plastic.

He doesn’t know what it is.

He doesn’t know who to ask. He can’t understand anyone and he doesn’t know if he trusts them.

They put something in him. There’s something embedded in him.

He thinks he’s going to cry.

Something touches his arm—Danny flinches. His core tightens with stress as he puts a metaphorical hand on the button, ready to run and hide at any notice.

It’s the lady. He knows her.

No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t know her at all. He can’t talk to her in any way that matters. She’s not a doctor. He doesn’t know why she’s here, or why she’s keeping him here.

She’s nice. She fed him. But is that all it takes to trick him? To make him compliant? Pliable?

She stops touching him when he gets scared, her eyes worried. She kneels—closer than Danny would like, probably, but she keeps her hands to herself. Danny’s heart races faster, out of order, starting and stopping and starting again like a bad engine.

“Eow eart wel?” she asks from his left arm rest, a common question, so softly. Danny doesn’t know what it means. “Eall es wel. Ænlic eow, ænlic me. Bruce bræð wið me?”

She takes a big, deep, breath. Her hand rises slightly over her chest, following an exaggerated movement. Don’t panic. Breathe. Breathe like me. One, two, three.

Danny’s breaths are more choked. More panicked.

But when she breathes, he breathes with her—even with every stutter in between.

“Hwæt es woh[O3] ?” the lady asks, so gently it’s almost a whisper. Her pointer finger hovers over his body, but doesn’t touch—and eventually, Danny figures out she probably wants to know where he’s hurting.

But he’s not hurting. He’s scared. There’s something inside him, and he isn’t sure what it is. He presses the heel of his hand to the object. He feels something rigid refuse to bend inside his flesh.

There’s something of recognition in the woman’s face. “Inne cwic tima,” she says, more certain of answers outside the room, and darts away,

Danny wants to bounce his bound leg. He feels awful when anyone is in the room with him, considering how little of them he knows, but, somehow, it’s so much worse when he’s actually alone.

When she comes back, there’s a second person who walks through the double doors with her, in blue scrubs with ducks on them. They wave to Danny.

Danny…blinks. He feels numb. It’s kind of a problem.

They take it in stride, though; in their hands is a blank board and a chunky marker. The cap comes off, the new person scribbles for a minute or so, and then turns the board around so that Danny can see.

It’s a…person. A rudimentary outline person, sure, with some visible bones and organs to fill in the person-shaped outline. Danny can recognize most of them from anatomy class, although those memories are more…personal, now. A little more painful.

The person taps on the board. The person points to Danny.

Danny frowns.

The person turns the board back around and makes some Pew, Pew, Pew! sounds with their mouth, occasionally opening and closing their hand over the board to match the noise. There’s some more scribbling. When the board turns back around, there’s a violent smudge of marker on top of the drawn person’s drawn intestines.

The person takes their covered pinky finger and erases a little neat circle of marker in the intestines, mostly favoring one side. They draw a little arrow from the hole to the general outside-of-the-person blank area. Then another circle, with a thicker circle inside.

Danny recognizes the object jutting out of him. Oh. This is how he got it.

The person—probably a doctor, Danny guesses, or the surgeon who did this to him—do these people even need credentials, actually?—hands the board over to the lady. They hold out ten outstretched fingers, marker under their arm, and make a show of counting every one of the outstretched fingers with the opposite hand. Then they take the board back.

And then, when they write on the board, Danny can actually understand what they say.

Or, well, it’s numbers! The numbers are the same as his—the line and a circle is clearly meant to be a ten, and the little x is a multiplication symbol— they draw a 10, as clearly and a brightly as it could be against a stark white board, and add a little x 7, probably to indicate a week; the result is ten suns times seven, or seventy suns.

Danny feels his heart bounce in his chest. Danny would bet a whole lot of money that the number is meant to be seventy days. There is an end point. It’s not that Danny is free to be subjected to random anatomical whims—there’s a goal here. This was purposeful.

The little circle-within a circle gets erased. The hole is scribbled through as if it was never there, and the person makes a weaving gesture with the marker that Danny is certain is meant to be sewing.

Tears prick at his eyes. The lady gets close by him again, but Danny lets her. His hands aren’t good enough for wiping tears the way he wants to, yet. Help and company are good.

She gives him a tissue from Danny's bedside table. He takes it with a whisper of a grip.

“Seventy?” Danny rasps, tearful. Hopeful. Terrified of hope. He practically jams the tissue into his eye sockets.

The lady’s eyes go wide. “Seventy,” she repeats, marveling.

It’s enough. Nothing is perfect, but it’s enough. And if Danny's allowed to spend so long in front of the space window that he falls asleep in his wheelchair, well. It's not like he was in charge of where they went.

[anonymooseforever007]

Man of My Dreams

(Alfie Solomons x female reader)

Summary: Y/N is one of the newest secretaries at the Shelby Company and she's always eager to make her bosses proud. But one night, when Tommy give her the order to watch one of his business partners.... maybe she took the order "by any way you can" a bit to literally....

A/N: Hi y'all! There's nothing graphic, but this fic does contain a short mention of forced prostitution by some aweful bosses over their secretaries, but nothing happens here. And aside from usual Peaky Language and sexual innuendos I don't think there are any other TW's for this story! I was gonna post this later but I'm pretty please with how it turned out so here it is now 😂 I just wanted to write a nervous reader meeting cheeky Alfie! Enjoy!❤️

WC- 3.2k

Main Masterlist

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

"WAIT! Don't go! You can't!"

"And why is that Treacle?"

".....because I love you?"

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

(A little while earlier)

Mr. Shelby had given you one job. Only one job left today and he said it was vey important that you complete it at all costs and by any means necessary. If you failed there maybe be a lot of trouble and not just for you. But what was that job?

Keep Alfred Solomons inside the office...

It was after closing time at the betting shop and while almost everyone else had gone home you were still working on a few papers Mr. Shelby wanted done by tomorrow. And while they wouldn't take too long, you were still a newer secretary at the company and rather eager to please your bosses. You were also one of the younger secretaries and this was one of your first jobs that consisted of more than stocking shelves or sweet talking rude customers in the bakery. And while everything had gone smoothly so far, you still found yourself accepting the extra work from time to time in order to get in your boss's good graces. He still paid for the time of course, very well actually. But as you'd learn today, late office hours often came with unexpected surprises too. 

One of these began when Mr. Shelby suddenly walked through the main floor towards his office. Only he wasn't alone. Walking a few paces behind him was another man. You'd recognized him as Alfie Solomons, an imposing man who owned the "Bakery" that Arthur Shelby was always grumbling about. You hadn't actually spoken to him or even met him yet. The most you'd gotten was rumors from the other women in the shop about all the terrible things he'd done. Even worse than some of the rumours about your boss. But tonight it appeared that would change. You didn't miss the quick glance made towards you by the Camden Town man when Mr. Shelby passed your desk with a quick acknowledgment, before heading straight to his office.

Only six minutes into the important meeting, Mr. Shelby had been called to the Garrison to deal with a fight started by his brothers. He had been annoyed to no end at having to fix yet another one of his brothers' impulsive decisions, but seeing as Polly was helping Esme with her new baby, he was the only one left to go. Well, the only one Arthur and John would listen to if they were half as drunk as Finn said. And Finn himself was also being dragged back to the bar by Tommy to help control his brothers too, so he couldn't watch the other gangster either. Even if he lacked his brother's stomachs for fighting, Finn still had almost a head over each of them and could hold them back well enough if needed. 

So Tommy brought him along too, leaving you behind with the order to keep the other gangster company until he returned. It didn't matter that Alfie had already agreed to waiting until Tommy came back. Or in his words "graciously relented more of his precious time" in the name of "proof of his good will." Tommy still didn't want him snooping around the office while he was gone. So he'd given you strict instructions to keep the gruff man in his office until he got back. You were also to make sure he didn't mess with much in there either. 

You'd never anticipate just how astray that one plan would take you...

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

"Hi. I'm Y/N, one of the secretaries. I hope you don't mind, Mr. Shelby wanted me to look at his typewriter and clean up the office a bit before I left. One of the keys has been a bit sticky lately. So don't let me both you, and if you need anything let me know and I can get it for you."

You'd figured that had been a pretty decent thing to open with. It was a good excuse for staying in the office, and Tommy had wanted you to fix the key for a while now. But you started to rethink your opener, as all you got in return was a brief nod from Mr. Solomons who continued to read over the paper in his hands. Pursing your lips in a line and feeling slightly awkward now, you just nodded to yourself moving to Mr. Shelby's typewriter. You did get a questioning stare after that when you picked up the device and moved it to the table in the middle of the room. That was the table between Mr. Solomon's desk and the door. It meant you had a better chance of stopping him should he try to bolt. Didn't mean it was a big chance though. No, you didn't doubt this man could easily pin you if he tried, and you hoped in the back of your mind that he really did plan to stay as agreed. And so, glancing at the unchanging position of your charge every few minutes, you set to work on pulling apart the typewriter...

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

Silence.

Pure uncomfortable silence had descended upon the small office nearly half an hour after Mr. Shelby left. Well, you found it uncomfortable, but Alfred seemed to have no issue with the quiet that settled over the room. By this point he'd moved from the chair he was originally sitting on to the one behind him, closer to the bookshelf. Which happened to be directly across from your own seat. 

He sat, unbothered, still reading the same contract he had when you came in. He must of gone through it twelve times by now. Occasionally, he'd mumble under his breath, causing your head to shoot up, waiting for something to happen with bated breath. One of these times, to slight humiliation, your head had shot up expecting to see him still looking down at the papers...only to be met with his own piercing eyes. Neither of you spoke at that moment, you just stared eyes wide with surprise while his remained unreadable. The moment was broken by the sound of a siren out of the window causing you to look over. You didn't notice the slight smile the briefly passed the man's face.

It had been fifteen minutes since that moment and you were finally starting to relax, thinking that maybe this really wouldn't be as bad as you thought. Keeping him here didn't seem too bad.

Until, without warning Alfie stood up and quickly walked towards the desk. Thinking he was trying to look at Mr. Shelby's private papers you also shot up. But when he turned back around you saw he was only grabbing a new pen, leaving you standing there... once again staring. He must really be starting to believe you're a creep of some sorts, you thought. Trying to save face you'd headed towards the desk yourself, under the guise of grabbing a piece of paper for the now fixed typewriter. You didn't expect him to, but you were glad the your company didn't point out the stack of paper sitting right next to the machine in the table. And with that, you went back to your seat, trying to calculate how many drinks you'd need after this. 

You couldn't explain it, but for some reason you felt like you were doing this wrong. There was some source of nerves buzzing in the back of your head that just wouldn't settle. You chalked it up to this being the "most important" job you'd been given yet, aside from when Polly had you watch the empty shop for an hour one night after locking up so she could chew one of her nephews out for their latest mess. You had been so nervous about someone trying to break in, you'd almost concussed poor Arthur with his own stapler when he'd come in the back door. The only thing that saved him was the fact he actually fell back on his ass, terrified, because you'd popped out so closely to him. You were also lucky he happened to be sober and registered it was you before fighting back. Neither of you mentioned that night to the others.... and neither of you ever would.

The silence continued for a few endless minutes longer before it was finally broken. Alfie groaned lightly as he got to his feet. Luckily you hadn't stood up this time and were able to slow the rise of your head, looking up at him slightly concerned. Even if you didn't know the man, you'd noticed the slight wince he'd made when he stood up, using the couch arm to stabilise his ascent as he reached for his cane by the table.

"Right. Now that's enough of that poppet. You said if I wanted anything you'd give it to me correct? And now I know what I want so you're gonna help me?"

Eyes wide in shock, both from the fact your burly companion spoke, and of what he spoke, you shot up once again in slight panic. Shit Shit Shit. Not only had his sudden actions threw you off your axis, but now he was also looking at you with a stare that reminded you of how John looked at Esme many times before they'd disappeared to the back rooms for half an hour or so. Esme usually came out looking brilliant as usual, but John wasn't one to hide his messy clothes or the marks on his neck. And now Alfred Solomons seemed to be giving you the same look as his eyes roved your body. He tilted his head and took another step forward, indicating that you still hadn't answered his question.

"I...I did say that yes. What do you need Mr. Solomons?"

"Well let's not dance around anymore. Call me Alfie or Alfred if you'd like treacle. I've seen you starting at me," Alfie moved around the table until he was only a few steps away, "I think you know exactly what I want. I think you know exactly how this is suppose to play out. Your boss leaving you here as 'company' for little ole me? You know what happens now right?"  

The last words were spoken so closely you could feel his breath against your face. Your breath hitched realising what he meant. No. It couldn't be that. You knew Mr. Shelby wanted you to keep his business partner company, but surely he didn't mean that kind of company. Your boss wouldn't do that right? You'd never even met the man before today and he wanted you to....

"Show me where the bathroom is why don't you? I've been needing a piss since the trip up."

Your entire body seemed to relax hearing those words. Yes, Alfred Solomons was a very handsome man, the kind you often fantasised with your friends about meeting one day. But that didn't mean you had any desire to sleep with the man for your boss's benefit. You'd heard about monsters who forced that from their poor secretaries. 'A sweeter part of the business deals' is what some of them wanted. Men like that disgusted you, and you were relieved your boss wasn't that way. If he was though, you believed you'd actually have shot him yourself for such a suggestion. Yes, you had a habit of being quiet and were often anxious about if you were correctly doing your job, but you'd be damned if any man thought he could treat you that way. Your father had taught you how a man should respect a woman and your mother gave you a gun if he didn't. A gun that was currently locked in your nightstand, but nonetheless you figured you'd have time to grab the stapler on Tommy's desk if you needed to. Though now that Solomons had brought it up, the idea wouldn't leave your mind. After all, it was just you and Mr. Solomons in the office. Mr. Shelby wasn't back yet and there was no telling how long he'd be. What if he got to you before you reached the stapler?

"It's alright dove, I'm not gonna hurt ya," Alfie's words broke through your thoughts once again, and you'd nodded this time hearing the truth in his words. He'd noticed you'd relaxed upon his last demand, only to tense up a bit in thought moments later. Based on your quick glance towards the stapler on Tommy's desk, he could tell you were now thinking of another request he'd might have made. One that honestly he wouldn't have minded indulging in he thought, taking another quick look at the woman before him. But he didn't because of the uncertain look in your eye and the scolding voice of his late mother telling him off for what he'd just done. 

He knew it was wrong of him to imply such a thing, especially when he'd only just met you and when you seemed nervous as it was. And for a man who rarely regrets his actions, he did feel a slight hint of guilt for scaring you. His mother would have tore him a whole new asshole if she'd heard him make such a comment, implying what the young woman practically had no choice to do. Given, he certainly had made many comments like those before and they were often eagerly accepted and lead to quite a few passionate nights while Cyril was sent home with Ollie... But that didn't mean now was the time for them. Not when it was late at night alone in Tommy Shelby's office the his secretary he'd met forty five minutes ago. Wouldn't that be a story to hold over the shorter gangster though? The time he bent Tommy's new secretary over the man's own desk in under an hour. Alfie felt the seat of his pants tighten slightly at that idea, but tried to push it off because it still wasn't the time for that. 

"The bathroom is this way."

Your words broke him out of his thoughts and Alfie looked over to see you standing by the office door you'd been guarding so "intensely" the whole time. Like your time in the office, the way to the bathroom was also silent. You walked Alfie all the way up to the door, and he was half surprised you didn't accompany him to actual toilet seat. 

After a few moments standing awkwardly outside the door, feeling like you sister waiting for her five year old son, Alfie finally came out again. He didn't even wait for you as he made his way back through the main floor. But instead of cutting a straight path through the other desks like before, he was weaving his way around and between the tables. Sometimes he'd pause and look at the papers on a seat even though they were likely just blank log pages, everything else having been put away for the night. Then he'd straighten up again and travel a completely different direction than before. And because you wanted to make sure he wouldn't take anything off the other desks, you followed him. 

Up and down and around. If someone were to walk into the company just now, they'd have seen what looked like a two person game of tag....One you seemed to be loosing. Finally he reached the door of Tommy's office again, stopping so suddenly, you almost ran into him. 

"Well that was a rush wasn't it poppet? Had to get me daily exercise in didn't I?"

The intimidation you felt from this man was finally starting to wear off. All of the sudden the mood of environment changed again. Alfie sighed and shrugged his shoulders like he'd made a final decision. 

"Right. That's really enough of that poppet. Seems your Boss is a no show and I'm a busy man," Alfie stated as he gathered up the papers he's been looking at. You froze, watching him stand up and make his way to the door. Shit shit shit. He was joking again right? He was suppose to stay put. But now he's moving towards the door and doing the very thing he wasn't suppose to do. Why was he leaving now? He said he'd stay. Shoot. You wanted to go back to the uncomfortable silence from before.

You looked around the room for a reason to keep him there. But aside from Tommy's stapler, you didn't see any means of holding him back. Besides it wasn't like the stapler would be of much use. Tommy always forgot to refill it when the staples were gone and had a bad habit of stealing yours and never giving it back. Sure, he technically owned every stapler in the building, but you were still very proud of your own little tool. It hardly ever got jammed. But now it was no where in sight and Tommy's stapler was as usual, empty, meaning unless you wanted to beat Alfie over the head with it, you were out of luck. Sure, you could probably toss it at him as a distraction and then roll the desk chair into his bad hip, but that just felt mean. Arthur would absolutely love it and might have given you a raise for doing it even, but there was a larger part of you that spoke against hitting a man in his war wound. That just felt like a special type of cruel. But it meant you were left with no other option but to witness Alfie walk out the door. As you watched, Mr. Shelby's words flew through your head, talking about how important it was for Alfie to stay until he returned and how you need to keep Alfie there at all costs. Suddenly, an idea hit you.

"WAIT! Don't go! You can't!"

"And why is that Treacle?" The words came out absentmindedly, Alfie already focused on what he'd do when he got home.

".....because I love you?"

Alfie's hand was on the door when he froze, hearing your almost desperate plea. Spinning around as much as he could with his hip, he faced you again. Confusion covered his face, quickly replaced by an almost cocky amusement.

"You love me?"

"Yes," you nodded somewhat confidently," I've loved you since the moment I first met you."

Alfie, tilted his head and took a step closer, raising and eyebrow.

"Well poppet, considering moment I met ya was an hour ago, I'd say it's a love that won't take long to get over."

He turned again but this time you shoved yourself infront of the door before he could grab it.

"No it's not!"

"It's not?"

Now Alfie was confused. He'd have remembered meeting a pretty face like yours before, especially it it accompanied your rather memorable personality, you'd shown today. On the other hand, you were cursing yourself out internally, berating yourself for the impulsive lie. Why didn't you just grab the stapler? Scrambling to cover yourself now, you delved deeper into your story.

"It's not. The first time we met was... it was... at.... no by.... It was by..... in .in in.... IN MY DREAMS!! The first time we met was in my dreams and I've been in love with you since then!! Yes that's it!"

You nodded vigorously, smiling, hoping he'd believe you. He didn't obviously, he knew you were still trying to follow your boss's orders.... but damn was this fun to watch. Alfie raised an eyebrow moving a step closer again.

"Are you saying I'm the man of your dreams poppet?"

"Yes! Absolutely. I think about you every night."

"You do?" Alfie was only a step away now. "What exactly about me do you think dove?"

You thought for a moment, scanning his body for things to talk about, not that it would be hard, but you felt a little pressured here. If Alfie moved any closer his beard would brush you chin.

"Beard.... Your beard is fluffy, and looks soft," you started," and your stance is...like a sturdy man's stance..you have pretty eyes too...and you have arms... I like arms. You look like you'd give good hugs... or could like make my bed," Alfie bit his lip, trying not to laugh. "Also legs, you have legs, and a cane for your hip. You could like do stuff with the cane ... maybe I don't know. Some people may like that. I know people into that." You had no clue what your were saying at this point, just rambling and Alfie didn't know if it was embarrassing or enduring. But before you could delve deeper into your hole, he stopped you.

"Alright poppet. I get it don't I? You're madly in love with me and the idea of me leaving just breaks your heart, don't it?"

"Yes?...." You nodded, not believing that he was believing it. Maybe?... "It breaks my heart and that's why you can't leave. You have to stay with me. In here. In this office....So you can't leave. Because I absolutely love you with all my heart and if you were to go I wouldn't know what to do. I'm just lost without you Alfred Solomons. You are the man of my dreams an..."

"Y/N, What the fuck?"

Startled by Finn's voice you cursed, turning around to see not only the youngest Shelby, but Tommy, Arthur, John, and Michael staring at the scene before them. Evidently during your "heartfelt" speech you hadn't noticed them arrive back to the office. Nor had you seen them opening Tommy's door, only to hear the last bit of you professing your "love" for the man who'd screwed them over more times than John had kids....which was to say a lot. Tommy's eyes met yours in confusion and slight concern as your mouth opened and closed like a fish, unable to provide an explanation. When he said keep Alfie under control he meant, just make sure the man didn't piss in the whiskey decanters or draw horns on Arthur's picture. He wasn't sure why that involved professing your love. In the back of his mind, it passed that you could be a spy, and Tommy honestly hoped that wasn't the case. He liked you, Lizzie never let him take her stapler. A drunken John just smiled in amusement, pleased with the free entertainment. Meanwhile, Finn and Michael were silently making faces at each other, arguing over who'd grab Arthur's legs, and who'd get arms if he decided to act on the dangerous glare he was giving Alfie. He wasn't actually drunk, but Arthur saw you like another Ada, and he didn't like the idea of Alfie romancing you. Arthur also had a deep seated despise for Alfie in general, but everyone knew that. Now they were all looking at your for an explanation.

Looking over your shoulder, the stapler was still empty.

Perfect.... 

[kaufmann-6]

What are the batfamily's thoughts on Taylor Swift?

I think Bruce would dislike her the most but not because he thinks she's bad, but because his kids listen to her so much and people *cough* Dick *cough* talk about her incessantly that it's become annoying and if he hears Dick scream "Hey, I don't know about you, but I'm feeling 22!" at the top of his lungs one more time he's going to lash out.

Damian probably pretends he doesn't like her. I don't think he listens to Taylor, but after Dick forced him to listen to every single song on the Folklore album he's gained some respect for her writing, that album is really relatable, many songs talk about mental health and some other stuff I think Damian would relate to.

Jason, on the other hand, is the secret swiftie. He tells eveyone his favorite band is some rock or heavy metal one like ACDC (which he does like) but meanwhile he's listening to the Speak Now and Reputation albums on repeat.

Cass probably doesn't care about Taylor that much, but she laughs at Bruce's misery and listens to her songs if it means she can spend more time with her siblings and has something to talk about with them.

I think Tim has some very crazy musical taste. I can imagine him having zero playlists, he just hits shuffle on his library and goes for it. So he likes Taylor's songs, but probably wouldn't be able to name her. He's like "oh yeah I like that song, I have it saved on by library but I have no idea of who the singer/band of this one is".

Babs likes Taylor and she has no shame on admitting that. Dick is the one who turned her, obviously. I think she would sit on an armchair, curled up with a book and listen to Evermore as she reads.

Stephanie doesn't think Taylor is bad, but she probably doesn't like her as much as some of the other members of family do. Maybe she has like, five Taylor songs in her library that she (secretly, she didn't want him to know and freak out) saw Jason listen to that she couldn't deny were good, but she doesn't activelly listens to Taylor.

Alfred, well, he isn't a pop guy, but he obviously knows eveything that there is to know about Taylor because Dick is a millenial and he would spend hours talking about Taylor to Aflie when Bruce got tired of him.

He got curious one day and listened to some of her songs. They weren't his taste but he gets why Dick likes her.

I don't know much about Duke's personality to know for sure but I think he likes her, he probably has a pop playlist on his phone and Taylor is there along with other artists he likes. He’s a casual fan, doesn't know anything about her life but enjoys some of her music.

And finally the ultimate #1 Swiftie, Dick Grayson. He's obsessed with Taylor and has been listening her music since the vey beggining. Knows every song and the meaning behind them, knows everything about Taylor life and the drama stories and calls Taylor and Travis his parents, which makes Bruce extremelly ofended.

He bugs his entire family about the latest Taylor nation news, tells jokes like "I'm in my junk food era" and "you never get out of style, baby", tries to insert Taylor references in every conversations, would absolutely be that friend who would tell you to name your baby Rebekah or Marjorie and broke a coffee mug when he found out Jason liked Taylor, hugging him excitedly.

[trashogram]

It's even worse for Crimson as being a villain, he's completely wasted. Given how Moxxie acts, personality wise and the like, he has the ruthless side of him(with killing) yet he's intelligent and caring. You'd think these would come about due to his upbringing by both of his parents.

But then we finally get around to it and we see Moxxie's mom is dead and not recently either and Crimson....is a complete dumbass and also an asshole.

This would have been a good side story, to showcase that Moxxie comes from a grey morality family, which is why his personality is the way it is.

His mother is that kind and sweet caring figure, his father is that ruthless and hardass figure, yet somehow, someway the two still love eachother. I feel this also would actually add to Hell as far as the daily life goes and struggles between morality.

The Mafia/Mob, while obviously there's a bunch of assholes within it, that doesn't mean that's all there is to these guys. They wouldn't have gotten anywhere near the power that they had in the 20th Century, if they weren't smart about what they were doing, if they didn't have some sort of code or honor system. As ruthless as Mobsters can be, not all of them are assholes...for the sake of being assholes.

There are laws that had to be followed(different from policies that each Family may have had, so those varied between). Michael Franzese is a huge, good source on the Mafia life and it's a lot more complicated than one might realize.

Crimson comes across as a dumbass, because he didn't check Chaz' finances...when they were in his car, unlocked....on the property. He's head of the Mob and doesn't do the most common sense thing ever, checking someone out before you take their word at face value.

It also comes across as such, that this is somehow the ONLY way to get money. ...Crimson...my guy, HOW are you head of anything in Greed?

No one becomes the Head of the Mafia, if they are so stupid that they don't have fingers in the pockets of...just about everyone they come across, if they don't strategize and have many, many, many different ways of making money.

They introduce us to Crimson as if he's some big shot, with the huge house, the helicopter and all the goons....and yet all that is thrown away when we learn that he's in heavy debt. So how are you paying all your men? How are you paying for any of your supplies? But then they take it a step further with Crimson being a dumbass, by forcing his son to marry Chaz(who he hates) and is just taking the latter's word that he's rich....so you're not going to check the guy who you HATE and make sure he's telling the truth? Crimson you have no right to be pissed at Moxxie, for you being an idiot.

Didn't mean to go on this long spiel I guess, I'm just now worried for when we get into Hazbin...in how Angel's Mafia Family is going to be portrayed, especially when we know it'd at least be early 20th Century of when they were alive. Which means, they should be well organized and have significant power.

....Also Moxxie's mother deserved way better than being killed. I wanted her alive, there was so much potential to have this contrast between Millie's parents and Moxxie's parents and....we didn't get that. ...Also I WANT HER OFFICIAL NAME!

GIVE MOXXIE'S MOM AN OFFICIAL NAME!

Crimson is so deep in debt that he had to take out his brain and put it up for collateral.

It’s the only way to explain why he’s such an audacious idiot that I have to assume failed upward. Or we could blame it on the real problem, which is that Vivienne Medrano decided one day that she wanted to turn a gay wattpad fanfic into an episode of Helluva Boss regardless of how dumb the idea was and no one stopped her.

Exes and Oohs hurts my brain with how preposterous it is, dude. How does marriage work in Hell?? Why the fuck are there priests in Hell that can officiate marriages?!

As for Angel Dust — God, is being from a mafia family even part of his character anymore? Oy vey we’ll probably find out before we spend anymore time on Charlie in Hazbin Hotel.

(I’m gonna call Moxxie’s mom Marzia. It’s cute. Not holding out for the show to actually give her a name.)

[twitter-bores-me-to-death]

Blue Revenge arc, a turning point in Ciel and Lau's relationship? A theory.

This is a follow-up to my analysis of chapter 212

Tl;dr Aboard the train, Ciel and Sebastian are being watched. Although well aware of the situation they're in, both engage in a leisurely discussion about their top secret plan for all to listen, while sipping tea.

I have been thinking... If Scotland Yard is listening in to Ciel and Sebastian's little chat, doesn't them mentioning Lau being directly involved in their operation plus potentially trying to smuggle some advanced technology to China, essentially amount to throwing him under the bus?

I believe an arrest warrant was issued for the sevants already (Finny was making the front page of The Times alongside Ciel and Seb), so mentioning them offhandedly is kind of inconsequential at this point.

Lau, however, he's been hiding our crew for a few weeks yet the police didn't knock on his door, meaning he wasn't that high on their list of suspects.

Looking at the way Ciel speaks about his relationship with Lau, it is a purely buisiness-based, mutually beneficial one. He doesn't believe he was done any favours for free and Lau himself did say he was expecting the debt to be payed with interest.

O!Ciel is currently embroiled in a mass murder, blood harvesting scandal. If the police catch wind of Lau, one of his accomplices, effectively acquiring advanced medial tech shipped for China, wouldn't that add more allegations against o!Ciel? He could be charged with treason, to top it off. Lau is obviously not paying any mind to his actions' repercussions on o!Ciel's already muddied reputation. He could even be planning to flee England altogether if everything goes smoothly.

and Ciel, of course, is aware of that.

Which is why, if you look closely at Ciel and Sebastian's discussion, the most they do in regards to the other servants is drop their names and some personal trivia. Nothing about their missions or whereabouts.

In contrast to that:

-Ciel spared no effort exposing Lau's ties to the mafia, his location, his goals AND his motivations. Not only that but Sebastian backed him up, saying that there was no doubt about his operation's success... They are basically urging, nay, *begging* the police to go to Athena Sanatorium to thwart Lau's schemes, be it by getting him arrested or simply having the Yard sieze the medical equipment (and the miracle healer?) before he gets his hands on it.

Ciel and Lau are playing 4D chess and unfortunately for Lau, Ciel is three steps ahead of him. He refuses to compromise and is ready to cut Lau off the second he's served his purpose, aka dismantling the blood collecting facility.

Now, the question is: What will become of Bard in all of this? I don't know. I doubt Ciel informed him of his plans but I am sure he'll come back to retrieve him if he ever gets caught. Maybe Bard is sharp enough to sniff out Ciel's plot and retreat in time.

In conclusion: Could we possibly be witnessing Lau's villain origin story? If he connects the dots and manages to slip through the fingers of justice, he'll certainly try to get back at our earl. Which will unavoidably lead to an epic confrontation not unsimilar to that of season 1 of the anime!

(Yes, I believe that for better or worse, the manga will follow the main plot points of the anime...)

[sonicjustbecause]

Relatable or not relatable?

Some (many) months ago, somebody complained that Japanese characters shouldn't be necessarily relatable and even talked about Sonic getting retatable as a bad thing. And that's a weird statement to me. The first character i found relatable was a japanese character. I was 12 at that time.

As a child I watched lots of cartoons. Western (such as Disney, Hanna&Barbera... even cartoons from the '30s that were still around, and most were in their original language, English) and Japanese. Italy has a long tradition with the Japanese cartoons, it goes as back as the 60's. And they were translated directly from the Japanese language.

Western characters, overall were all somewhat perfect. Not Mary Sues but almost. The good boys were all nice, smiling, outgoing, humble and talented. The bad guys were all clumsy, sadistic, psychopath, uncivilized.

I think the character I could related most were the smurf. There were grey areas there, because the smurfs, though overall all kind hearted, didn't always act wisely and used to mess up, even badly. And the evil Gargamel and Azrael saved and took care of a wild cat.

Now, at 12 I found a character I could relate with. And she was a Japanese character:

She loved cats, she was likeable (uh, maybe as annoying as prime Sonic, and probably for this I love them both) and she failed at school. well, not all things were like me, I mean, at school for some reason I was some times just slightly less than the top student, and other times I failed bad. My strong point was science. Also she had the worst boyfriend she could ever had, a punchbag with a lame personality. But a character should not be identical to you to be relatable.

In general, most Japanese character are relatable, they're flawed. Few might be too perfect or too over the top (Goku for example became more and more dumb. In Super he was flanderized to be suddenly turned later in a straight up antihero, but between the end of the first serie/early Dragon Ball Z his IQ started to suffer in favour of his ever growing muscles mass)

About Sonic, I've found X Sonic very relatable. In Sonic X he is very elusive and way less friendly than in other series, yet he was interesting to follow, not too perfect with his bad social skills, his crippling fear of water, yet always cheerful (Some of his behaviours didn't make sense here and there though, but I don't talk about them there, is not important for the topic).

Some claim autistic people in particular love Sonic. I don't think Sonic is especially loved by autistic people. The myth is born under unfortunate circumstance. A certain Chris Chan, who was a massive Sonic fan and who happened to be autistic. Though is not his fault that the fandom has a bad name, there are some Sonic fans that tainted the Sonic fandom reputation by their own taliban-like behaviour. This is the reason I noticed people fear to talk with any Sonic fan, as this comment on DA shows (VEI-6-Vesuvius is me)

The comment is not rude in any way, yet it was needed to point out 'I respect your opinion' and I perceived as this person was intimidated by me being a Sonic fan.

Is not a nice feeling seeing decent people afraid of you because of the bad Sonic fans.

[look-i-love-u]

Tag Game Wednesday

Gone full week and arrived at Wednesday again. Oops.

This is totally last week's one.

thank you for tagging me: @vintagelacerosette, @jrooc, @shippergirl121fic, @energievie, @ian-galagher, @blue-disco-lights @michellemisfit

Name and A03 handle: Vey, miss_snowwhitepink

Current Location: on the couch, sipping water, trying to get better hydrated

Favourite picrew:

What's one thing you want in a picrew? more body types, more fantasy, more pets

Favourite thing you’ve created (or seen created) for the fandom?

Fuck-U-Up Mug

Why is it your favourite?

Painted this mug for the first gallacrafts theme and I still love it and use it almost daily. It's still looking as good as day one. And it made me write a little one-shot to go with

Did it come easily or was it hard to create?

It was the first time I tried to draw a lily. So that was a bit of an adventure. The baking of the mug to fix the colour was a bit nerve-wrecking too as I feared it would break in the oven. But it all worked out just fine :)

Last ao3 fic you commented on? It's been a while since I read ffs. I've been on a "sports guys hooking up and finding love" binge read lately, so I've read about ten books or so in the last few months and not a single ff. O.o

The last comment I wrote that got a reply was Evie's "When you say nothing at all"

Biggest WIP heartache you’ve ever experienced? I don't really read WIPs since my early fandom days and getting burned by them. But that's about half my lifetime ago and I can't remember a specific story.

So I'll say all the WIPs in my doc drafts and especially the three collabs that I was super excited about my writing partner(s) weren't and they never even took off or got abandoned quite early on.

Favourite trope or head cannon you like included in a fanfic?

Oh, so many! Any and all AUs - as I love to see them find each other in every universe.

Soulmate!Aus especially. Hurt/Comfort. Pining! Long burn! Yes! Give me all the delayed gratification and the good stomach tingles from it!

Least favourite? Break-Up/Second chance fics, probably. I'm all about them getting together the first time and then hopefully living their happily ever after.

Also sick!fics and character deaths. Real life got enough of that. I don't want to read it in my escape media as well.

Secret or surprising kink or trope?

From hand holding to monsterfuckery - I'm a pretty open book when it comes to my kinks, I think. No secrets to uncover here.

Describe how you feel after you’ve created something new?

Elated. Happy. Nervously excited. Eager to share it.

Top hype man you have that always helps you get across the finish line:

Time pressure and a sense of responsibility.

Works for my work writing, works for fun writing. It's also probably the only reason I still remember to write a Galladrabble each week. XD

And getting a good response to what I did. Serotonine works wonders for my motivation and creativity.

It's been a bad day, you turn to the fandom and you _____? Scroll through tumblr. Look at amazing pretty art and send my faves to people who I know share my love for it.

[soap143]

Hii, so I really liked your lee Han fic and was wondering if you could write a lee Seungmin Ler skz fic where skz find that after seungmin read some mean comments about his smile, he started covering his mouth in pictures and they wanna convince him of how pretty his smile is. You don't have to write this though! Have a great day!!! I love your fics so much!!🩷🩷

Hey! I’ve seen this idea before and I think it is vey cute. Seungmins smile is the best!

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Smile

Lee! Seungmin

Ler! Skz

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Just go to sleep…

Seungmin kept repeating those words in his mind, desperately trying to ignore all the harmful thoughts that kept on tormenting his mind. He has seen these comments a million times, how come they still hurt him?

He flipped onto the other side of the bed, now facing the blank wall. He wished he could just dissapear into it. Seungmin closed his eyes in hopes of never oppening them again…

“Omg helppp your teeth are still crooked after braces?”

“Am i the only one who thinks his smile ugly af…”

“Aint no way he thinks hes cute”

“Just close your mouth please, youre so ugly and annoying”

They didn’t go away even in his dreams. The poor boy shook his head side to side in his sleep, trying to shake those thoughts away. He suddenly woke up, covered in sweat. Thank God it was just a nightmare. Except it wasn’t. People really said that to him without any shame.

The puppy pressed his hand againts his forehead. He felt sick. So sick and tired. Nonetheless, he knew he wouldn’t fall back asleep. So, he grabbed his phone from the nighstand and turned it on, checking the current time.

6:23 am

He groaned in dissapointment. He had at least an hour or two before having to wake up. But, of course, he would simply waste the precious time staring at the blank ceiling. Dissapearing into it wouldn’t be so bad either.

In about an hour (which felt like 37 days to Seungmin) Minho woke up. He lazily walked down to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for the kids. He wasn’t called the mom of the group for nothing. Seungmin heard his every step. Minho was so strong compared to him. And so much more beutiful. He covered his eyes, squeezing them tightly. But nothing came out.

Soon enough, Seungmin heard Felix strolling to the kitchen aswell. He has lived with long enough to recognise their footsteps. Well, if the sunshine boy was awake, he should get out of bed too. Unfortunetly.

Seungmin slowly got out of bed, forcefully taking his tired body to the bathroom. After finishing up, he walked back to his bedroom to get dressed.

The pup felt like shit, but the smell of delicious food was basically forcing him out of his room. After slumping his body down and kicking around childlishly one last time, he finally got up and made his way to the source of the amazing scent.

He was soon met with the gaze of Minho, Felix and Jeongin, which was surprising because hadn’t heard the maknaes footsteps.

“Morning, Minnie” Minho greeted from his spot at the stove “Good morning, hyung” Seungmin tried his best to not sound grumpy and sad, but he knew he could not pretend to be someone else around his bandmates - they knew him far too well for that.

Not even a minute after the second youngest of he group walked close enough for them to see his face, they knew something was wrong. The rest of the members could always tell what his mood was like just by the way he walked, talked. Hell, even breathed.

“I can’t be only one who thinks that Seungmin is… off” Felix whispered into Jeongins ear “Uhm, that was exactly what I thought, he seems upset about something” the maknae agreed “We should ask Minho about it, I wonder what he thinks…” Felix pondered, walking to said man.

“Hyung, I’m sure that you’ve noticed Seungmin’s strange mood by now. What do you think it is?” the cat man turned his head towards his dongsaeng “I know what it is. I’ll tell you after breakfast. Don’t wanna spoil anything, but I have a plan…”

Felix was satisfied with his answer, updating Jeongin on the exciting news that he had just gotten from the eldest in the room. Both of them started brainstorming in their thoughts about what could the plan be.

Right after breakfast, Seungmin basically ran to his room, not even thanking for the food. However, Lee Know wasn’t bothered, he knew that he could properly punish the younger later…

“Right, and bring the rest of the kids with you, alright?” the second oldest said as he finished his call with Chan “Well?” the sunshine impatiently asked “He said he’ll be here any time now. I made he sure he would bring Han, Changbin and Hyunjin too” “Yay! This is the best plan that you have ever made, Minho hyung!” the fox happily showed his dimply smile after hearing the long awaited news.

You have probably already guessed the plan of the mischevious bunny, but let me tell you anyway:

1. See if Seungmin was actually hurt by the comments.

2. Call everyone over.

3. Tickle the sadness out of him!

Sounds like the best plan ever, right? Well, maybe a bit too simple, but that’s all it took, really.

The first two steps had been completed. They were only one step away from success!

Luckily, Minho knew very well how to complete the remaining step. It was much easier than you might think.

“Your plan is so stupid though, we’re gonna need at least another 37 step plan just to tickle Seungmin” Han rolled his eyes after hearing the amazing idea “No, Jisung, we’re going to convince him to let us wreck him!” Lee Know smiled “Are you serious?! That would require another 1000 steps!” Chan laughed.

To Minho’s advantage, the rest of the group agreed upon his amazing invention, so he won’t have to deal with more than two grumpy party poopers.

“You guys are not listening! We need to put Minnie in a lee mood!” the bunny proudly announced “What is that?” Changbin asked as the quokka started reddening up “Oh, I forgot that some of you are not aware… Well, a lee is someone that-“ Minho’s sentence was cut short by some very much aggressive coughing.

“Hannie, are you ok?” Chan asked with a very concerned look “Uhm *cough* I think I-I’m fine…” the all rounder was slighly relieved when he saw Jeongin and Felix blushing as well.

The leader of danceracha smirked and continued talking “Uhm, I think I’ll explain that later. Now let’s go, we have a mission to complete!” Everybody ran, screaming like a pack of children, pretending to be soldiers.

“MISSION TICKLE SEUNGMIN!” I.N. screamed as the him and the rest of the members barged into the victim’s room “Hyunjin, Han, grab his arms. Changbin, Innie, grab his legs. Felix, Chan and me will take care of the rest!” Minho instructed everyone like the professional he was.

Once everything was finally set up, was when Seungmin came to realization: he was completely inmobile and about to get wrecked. There was no way he was going to let this happen.

“Let go you bahastards! What have I done to deserve this?!” the second youngest started squirming around like crazy in an attempt to free himself.

“Nu-uh you’re not going anywhere!” Hyunjin said with a smile, securing his arms under his butt. Han did the same “Thihis is so unfair! I can’t even move!” the pup whined, trying to get his arms from under Hyunjin.

Felix and Chan took the initiative by poking the boys sides repetitively, making him giggle “Nohoho please~ Anythihing but this!” the lee hysterically giggled, still trying to get out of their grasp.

“Hmmmm, how about no!” Hyunjin happily smiled shoving five of his fingers into the yoonger’s vulnerable armpit “YAHAHAHAHA HYUHUHUHJIN DOHOHON’T!” “Oh you just set yourself up so good” Jeongin murmured in sympathy. Everyone quieted down. Seungmin was scared out of his mind “Hyung! Hyunjin hyung! Please, I-I didn’t mean it…” the pup tried to maneuver his way out of the situation, but it didn’t look like that was going to pay of…

“You’re in deep shit, Seungminnie…”

All seven of the members dug in without a warning “NOHOHOHOHOHO PLEHEHEHEASE! H-HYUHUHUHUHNG! ANYONE! PLEHEHEASE~~” Seungmin wildly cackled.

The scene looked rather… Interesting. Hyunjin and Han were having a hard time holding the pups hands down, yet both of them were roughly digging their fingers deep into the victim’s armpits. Minho was situated on his hips, trying to hold the younger’s midriff still by pushing his fingers into Minnies V-line(which was just making him squirm more). Chan and Felix were both attacking each one of Seungmin’s sides, switching in between his ribs and sides. Jeongin and Changbin were keeping themselves occupied by digging their fingers into their bandmate’s thighs, knees and occasionally scratching his soles.

The mean comments were the last thing on the tickle attack victim’s mind - he was much more busy trying to stay alive.

Obviuosly, Seungmin couldn’t handle so many rough tickles all over his body at the same time. The rest of the kids could feel that too. They all slowly stopped, but still didn’t let the poor boy go.

“Let’s play a game to make this interesting, Minnie” Minho fondly smiled looking down at his dongsaeng “P-Plehease no more…” Seungmin’s chest rose up and down restlessly, trying to pump his tired body with blood. Apparently it was doing that quite succesfully, considering the latter’s wine-red face, ears and neck. Not to mention that he still had tears running down his neck, wetting the collar of his shirt.

“Say, how many hyungs do you have?” Lee Know didn’t let up “I-Ihihi don’t know, 7?” “Is Seungmin our new maknae now~?” Jeongin teasingly asked “Nahaha I don’t know…” the “maknae” tiredly grumbled, almost falling asleep on the spot.

“Well, if he insists on having 7, then I don’t see why we should disagree with him!” the leader of danceracha smirked “What do you even mean, hyung?” Changbin whined from the end of the victim’s body “That is exacly how many raspberries he’ll get… From each one of us!” The bunny proudly announced.

Suddenly, Seungmin flinched awake. 7 raspberries?! From EACH one of them?! He is not making it out alive.

“WHAHAHT?! WHY! I don’t deserve this please~~~” “Oh yes you do, did you see how sad and grumpy you were this very morning?!” Felix frowned, poking the younger “Couldn’t even thank me for my amazing breakfast…” Minho mischeviously mentioned, leaving the pup wide eyed.

“Let’s start!” Chan exitedly declared, placing his lips onto the second younger’s side “One…” the kangaroo mumbled into the sensitive spot and blowing the ticklish air into the vulnerable spot “AHAHAHA CHAHANIE HYUHUHNG!!”.

Chan was only on the third raspberry and Seungmin was already dying, there was no way he was going to survive 49 raspberries…

“Mihihinho hyung, yOHOHOHOHUR BREHEHEAKFAST WAS AMAHAHAZING, CAN YOU PLEHEHEASE MAKE AN EXCEPTION FOHOHOHOR MEHEHE~!” the oldest member of vocalracha begged when Chan pressed his lips onto his side for the 4th time.

“Hmmmm… Ok, I’ll forgive just this one time… Only if you can endure raspberries from all sven of us, at the same time, without laughing.” Was he being serious? Migh aswell just say that they were going to kill him.

The pup took a deep breath in and waited in anticipation. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait for long. But was he really thankful? I mean, Han and Hyunjin had their lips pressed against his neck, Chan and Felix were both ready to wreck both of his sides, Minho was smiling into his stomach and Changbin with Jeongin both had a strong grip on both of his legs. Both of them were ready to blow some ticklish air onto God knows which part of his leg.

Just a few second later, he could feel every. single. body part being destroyed. Some of them were cheating by using their fingers to tickle aswell, but he definetly couldn’t tell who those cheaters were.

“p-plehehease…” His laughter was so silent, that the members stopped after only one time “Wow, I honetly didn’t think he would make it!” Han praised the younger, petting his head. Seungmin was so tired and his brain was so fuzzy and empty, that he didn’t care nor hear anything.

“Hey, are you ok, Minnie?” Hyunjin softly asked, signaling the rest of the boy’s to climb of the latter.

No response.

“Seungminnie, are you alright?” Jeongin slighly shook his hyung.

Nothing.

“SEUNGMIN!?” Chan agressively shook the younger with worry in his eyes.

“Huh, w-what…” the poor, tired boy finally woke up, relieving all seven of his bandmates.

“Oh my GOSH SEUNGMIN DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH YOU SCA-“ the eldest grabbed the puppie’s shoulders “Calm down Chan… He’s ok” “Are you?!” “Yeah, did we take it too far?!”

The lee was so overwhelmed and exhausted that it took him a few moments to catch up. Though once he did, he made sure to calm everyone down.

“It was fine, guys. I promise. I didn’t mind…”

One thing that he also noticed is…

He had completely forgotten why he was upset in the first place.

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I hope you enjoyed! Do you guys like the long buildups? I love writing them.

I’ve been putting this request away for a while, so glad that finnished it. Hope you have a nice day/night!

[summer-nights19]

I'm not her part 2

As requested, here is part 2 for my fellow Haruka stans

You didn't know how long you'd been crying crumpled on the bottom of the staircase, but it had to have been a long time since you'd heard the receptionist's footsteps as she switched off the lights and left the apartment complex. She'd probably seen you, but she hadn't asked. You assumed she'd seen Haruka and Michiru go up the stairs together earlier and had put two and two together.

Haruka... just the thought of her name was enough to make the pain in your chest worse. It felt like you'd been impaled and left to bleed out.

"I might as well stay here. After all, where can I go ?" that was what you'd told yourself. Logically, you knew you couldn't lie there forever- someone was bound to kick you out sooner or later, but, tight now, you really couldn't summon the energy to care. Just as you felt another fit of sobs incoming, a hand tapped your shoulder, warm yet firm.

You'd recognise that touch anywhere- it had been the greatest source of pleasure in your life for years. You'd laughed, moaned and cried under that touch, but it was all over now. Unless...

You turned around, barely able to stile the hopeful feeling blossoming in your heart. Maybe Haruka had come to take you back. She'd realized what a terrible mistake she made and wanted to ask for a second chance. You played the scene in your head, picturing you two crying in each other's arms as you promised to never let each other go again. The hopeful smile on your face combined with the tear stains and red, puffy eyes must have looked incredibly jarring.

"Y/N," Haruka's voice snaps you out of your daydream. It still sounds so cold and detached. You meet her gaze and try with every fibre of your being to keep it together.

"I thought we'd agreed you'd leave. You know you can't stay here," she continued, looking displeased. You choked back sobs.

"I... this is my home too. It's been my home for years. I have nowhere else to go, and you know that," your voice broke as you spoke that last sentence. You'd never been one to beg, but, as you were discovering, people are quick to become beggars when they lose everything in one fell swoop.

Haruka may have been a cold, cheating bitch, but she wasn't a monster. You knew she wouldn't simply throw you in the streets to fend for yourself.

Right ?

You'd also believed Haruka would always be loyal to you, until you saw what happened earlier.

All of a sudden you were doubting everything. It was like you were in the presence of a completely different person.

Haruka stuck her hand in the pocket of her suit trousers and took out a credit card, which she handed to you.

"I'll put enough money on this thing for you to meet basic needs while you find a job and get back on your feet. You can look into cheap accommodation tomorrow. In the meantime, stay at Usagi's or something,"

You took the credit card, mumbling a "thank you,". The truth was that even though Usagi would probably be happy for you to stay with her, Mamoru and Chibi Usa, the vey idea of having to witness them being all happy and in love while your world was crumbling made the park bench look almost tempting. You made a mental list of all the people you could potentially ask. Rei would definitely have space. She also hated men and lived alone, so you would be free from having to look at the picture of what you'd just lost. It was true that she might be irritated by an unexpected guest late at night, but you were sure she'd understand, given the circumstances.

"I think I should-" almost as soon as you opened your mouth, you realised Haruka was gone. She moved like the wind, silent and stealthy. However, you didn't have the time to process this new little crack in your increasingly broken heart- if you intended on catching the last train to Juban, where Rei's shrine was located, you needed to be fast. Before you left the building, you took one last look behind you and said a silent goodbye. As soon as you were outside, you called a taxi, not wanting to linger alone with the crushing weight of your memories for much longer.

***

When you finally arrived in Juban, you were too exhausted to even cry. Half awake, you trudged your way to Rei's, almost colliding with some lamp posts on the way. It was then that you realised you hadn't bought any belongings from the Haruka's apartment, but you were too tired to panic about it. Your eyelids felt like they were made of lead as you knocked on the shrine's door. Rei answered surprisingly quickly. As soon as she saw you, the irritation on her face melted away.

"What the hell happened, Y/N ? You look like shit,"

You have her a little smile as you invited yourself in. Rei sighied, closing the door behind you and sitting down opposite you at the little round table in the living room.

"Haruka left me," as soon as you said those words, reality hit you again like a punch to the gut and broke you out of your exhausted trance. The tears started flowing freely again.

Rei put an arm around your shoulder and squeezed. Even though most people would have, she didn't ask for details, as though she could sense that you had neither the mental strength nor the energy to talk about it. Rei had never really been the type for physical affection, but she also definitely wasn't the type who could ignore a friend in need.

"Your story doesn't end with her. You will learn to live without her again, even if it feels impossible right now," she said, her voice clear and confident. You nodded even though you couldn't bring yourself to believe her.

"Can I stay here with you while I get back on my feet ? I could even lend a hand at the shrine," you tried to imitate her confident tone, but your voice just sounded weak and wispy.

"Of course. I'll prepare a spare room now. We'll think about the rest after you've slept. Have a bath in the meantime,"

Rei left the room and you headed to the bathroom. You couldn't bring yourself to have a bath- the very thought felt inexplicably draining- but you knew that Rei would get on your case if she found out, so you simply gave yourself a quick scrub and washed your face. When you were finished, you wrapped yourself up in a towel and headed to the guest room, where Rei had prepared a bed, clean pyjamas and a cup of tea. Next to the tea, she'd left a note. You read it.

"Call me if you really need something,"

You smiled faintly to yourself, the tears coming to your eyes for what felt like the millionth time today. You felt a wave of gratitude washing over you and dulling the pain as you thought about how lucky you were to have such good friends. Maybe Rei was right, and things really would work out in the end. With that spark of hope warming your chest, you gave in to your exhaustion and fell into a deep sleep.

Masterlist

[daughterofyourdarklord]

What about voldedad? Where does he fall in the trio-verse???????

Oy vey. There can never be too many HCs I suppose, so here I am again going overboard:

From the moment they find out about her pregnancy Lord Voldemort despises it. Bellatrix seems so certain, so eager.. He’s unable to understand why. A baby right now? When he is so close to finally claiming his reign? He bars her from combat in the hopes that her bloodlust will outweigh this silly sentiment. It does not. He never wanted an heir, never needed one - he is very vocal about this. Yet, he allows her this child because, in the end, what choice does he have? 

The Dark Lord is very much intentionally avoiding Bellatrix when there is an attack on one of the safe houses. He is incensed, unsure how The Order was able to locate another so quickly- these vigilanties would have to be dealt with. His rage turns cold once he is informed that Bella was there. Lord Voldemort apparates without a second thought, following the feel of her magic. He orders everyone out of the room and soon she is pulled tight against him, his hands hard in her hair before drifting lower. Finally, he’s forced to acknowledge that he was worried about them both.

It’s going to be a girl. He really shouldn’t be surprised, Bellatrix has been claiming as much since the early weeks of her pregnancy - apparently she dreams about her. He’s oddly relieved, suddenly paying a bit more attention to Bella’s musings about long dark curls and deep amber eyes. “Does she tell you her name?” He asks her - it’s the first times he’s ever directly referred to their baby out loud. She smiles. 

‘Delphini’ he hisses at the growing swell of Bella’s stomach in parseltongue, too curious not to. Bella’s hand lingers at the nape of his neck watching him intently. He hisses again and at once all the dim candles lining their rooms alight. It is so sudden that both of them turn to one another refusing to believe that she did that.

The birth is much harder than the pregnancy. Bellatrix is screaming for hours and for once he feels powerless. He wants to rage at her, threaten her, order her to survive this. She pulls through, of course, Bella is not Merope. He does not enjoy babies, they remind him far too much of the Orphanage. However, he does feel oddly privileged when Delphini’s cries die in her throat the minute she is placed in his arms.

Father is not a concept he is well acquainted with but ‘dada’ and ‘papa’ he is slowly getting used to. 

Her magic is very much intentional. Bella tells him this is not normal, that most children have no control over their magic in the first few years of life. Delphini is not most children. She is His - a Gaunt and a Black - the blood of Salazar and of the stars flow through her veins. He has no doubt she’ll be exceptional and a part of him is almost proud. 

He doesn’t entirely hate it - when the little witch sleeps between them at night. Her hands are so small still that she holds just one of his fingers in her mighty grip. He allows her this.

The Ministry orders a search of Lestrange Estates. They were not warned, and only get word partway through the strategy meeting. He and Bellatrix are off in an instant, no words needed between them. They burst into the nursery and he sees her propped up in some strange wizard's hold. Rage rips through him so viciously he doesn’t even think. The wizard’s body hits the floor and Bellatrix is already sweeping their little girl back into safe arms. The other two witches also sent by the Auror Department are imperiused, ushered back to the atrium to report their minimal findings. The dead wizard will be a problem, one that he’ll drop off the ramparts of White Tower later. ‘We need to be more careful.' He thinks, in Bellatrix's arms the little witch is shaking. 

[pen-of-roses]

Dare

Last one for @ockissweek, short and sweet-ish as I'm still trying to figure these characters out

The dim purple light cast flickering shadows on the ruined and overgrown wall. With every pulse, the najligth grew slightly fainter, threatening to go out soon. Could they afford to waste time finding a new one?

Could they afford not to?

Their hand stilled in her hair.

They’d have to risk traveling in the night now, use the dark and shadows to their advantage against those creatures. But even if their own eyes had…changed, Calla and Oren were still only vey, and would need some sort of light. 

Abyss, neither of them shouldn’t even be here. They should be at home, safe, instead of blindly following the stranger they had let into their home into this mess.

The first chance they got, or even any of the following ones, they should have slipped away. Even half feral, they had known danger stalked their steps. They were a harbinger of bad things to come, and selfishly they had stayed, thinking they could have a family, a normal life, just daring the Veyrit to take it all away.

“Talon for your thoughts?” Oren whispered.

They lifted their head from his shoulder to blink at him. Mud still caked his clothes from when he had fallen earlier, and the scrape was still healing over his eye. Yet he still looked at them with concern written plainly over his face.

They looked back down at Calla, using their lap as a pillow and curled close to both of them, looking so much younger when asleep.

None of them fully knew what they had dragged both of them into.

Hesitantly, they raised their hands. “This…I don’t think this will end soon or easily. From what I know, he won’t stop while he thinks that I’m…that person.”

“And we said we’d help you, no matter what, Silver,” he signed.

They shook their head. He had to understand, how could he not see that things had changed? “That was before you knew—”

“It doesn’t matter.” Taking their hands, he kissed their knuckles, before releasing them again. “You are family to us now, and we don’t turn our back on that.”

“I don’t want to see either of you get hurt even more because of me. Or worse. You wouldn’t be in this much danger without me.”

“We might not even be alive without you. Who’s to say how long before those things came to our doorstep anyway?”

Tears welled in their eyes as they met his serious expression.

He took their face in his hands to place another kiss to their forehead, before pulling them to his chest, careful not to wake Calla in the movement. “We’re not going anywhere without you, and you’re not allowed to go anywhere without us. Got it? I dare anyone to try and separate us.”

Nodding, they let him hold them through the tears.