#i'm so tired of begging for just a shred of respect

[nasatshirts]

i am so fucking tired of having nothing i say matter.

[bookofmirth]

Did you like cc3 or love? Neither?

oh hello, why don't you pull up a chair because I have finished this book and I have Thoughts. I was thinking for a good chunk of this book that I would give it 2 stars. I still might. It depends on how it sits with me over the next couple of weeks. I ended up giving it 3 because I did enjoy some parts.

I will start with the more positive thoughts.

I am glad that the crossover was limited. One of my fears was that the series be unavoidably intertwined from here on out, so that pleases me.

I really did like seeing how Nesta has grown, her friendship with Azriel, and seeing more interesting things with his powers! That was really neat.

I did laugh out loud a couple of times, at points where I was supposed to laugh out loud. I think Tharion is dumb as hell but he made me chuckle.

The scene with Ithan and Sabine towards the end was good, I was like Gordon Ramsay, finally, some delicious fucking consequences.

Ummm... I like Ruhn and Lidia still. They had some silly moments, but overall they are the only characters in this book that I still have a shred of respect for. Maybe Perry and Sathia. Everyone else is on thin fucking ice.

Shout out to the one (1) line Bryce said that I liked: “I’m sick and tired of people using 'girl' as an insult.”

Unfortunately, the list of things I didn't like is far longer. I'm actually going to put it under the cut if people don't want their enjoyment spoiled or simply don't care.

In my opinion, sjm is a good storyteller, and an okay writer. This book really, really highlighted that for me. The plotting was a mess, I was constantly going back a page because I was confused about what was going on, there were weird inconsistencies that only made sense if you stepped back from the book and thought "well, the author needed that to happen, I guess."

There were some typos and word choice errors that should have been caught - "every muscle in Bryce's body went taught" and then a missing quotation mark (But it was Aidas who answered, pride flaring on his face. Apollion slew her with his Helfire when she attacked him—he pulled her burning heart from her chest and ate it.”). Not to mention the 255 "could have sworns" and 50-something "as if". I noticed a few similar phrases to this. If I'm feeling spicy one day maybe I will go back and find them.

The number of times she says "by whatever power" or "somehow" in a book where she has spent a lot of time explaining the power, and we should know what the "somehow" is???

Who in the ever loving fuck thinks that splitting up two tense scenes by cutting them into bite sized pieces and then interspersing them together is a good idea???

There were multiple times when I laughed out loud at scenes that were not meant to be funny, because they just seemed so dumb. Like... Ithan "accidentally" beheading Sigrid. Excuse me?? lmao (I edited this one because in my annoyance I misrepresented that a bit)

The tone was so, so off. That was a big source of my inappropriate laughing. Like, Hunt thanking Urd that he had such a loyal, fierce badass mate. Or a chapter starting with Ruhn saying "nah". I think this is because the genre could not decided what it wanted to be. SJM was still writing like this was high fantasy, but then used the word "like" in the way that I use the word "like". I do get that this is urban fantasy and she tried to smush it with a high fantasy (a high fantasy with very little world building, but still), but I really do not think that this genre serves sjm's style of storytelling. At all.

Dear powers that be in whatever heaven that exists, please stop letting sjm describe every single character as the most strongest beautiful fiercest loyal badass tough unflenching etc etc etc. I fucking beg. One of the big reasons that I dislike pretty much every character in this series is that they ALL HAVE THE SAME PERSONALITY.

Bryce is annoying as hell. I could write a whole essay on her but she is easily my least favorite sjm character EVER.

I am bitter at feeling like I needed to read this book when, after hosab, I would have given up on this series if not for the crossover.

The crossover really did feel like a "teehee I can do this because I want to" with very, very little thought as to how it would actually make sense. A crossover like this should NOT be done by someone who doesn't outline, and who pantses their writing. Pantsing is fine in itself! Pantsers should be barred from writing this kind of book.

Hunt's dick is too big for his underwear.

[inthewindandinthewater]

(Can We Be Friends)

(Can we be friends)

A/N: Hi everyone, this is the first time I've ever posted on here so we'll see how this goes. This is my first chapter of a series I'm tentatively calling (Can We Be Friends), that is subject to change though (please don't expect anything concrete from this, I'm kinda just feeling it out). It will be an enemies to friends to lovers kinda deal with Sirius, if I decide to finish it. Any feedback is appreciated, even if you just hated it... that's fine. I hope you enjoy it though.

Warnings: Heavy use of Y/n (maybe it's a crutch maybe it’s Mabeline), bad grammar perhaps.

Chapter One

Her blood was pumping, her palms were sweaty, and her heart felt like it was going to jump right out of her chest as she barreled down the staircase towards the gryffindor common room. Still her feet carried away from the girls dormitories and into the common room, where she went careening over the back of one of the plush, red velvet couches. 

“Goddamnit.” She muttered, pushing herself off the floor 

“Y/n L/n!” The girl pursuing her shouted as she rounded the second set of stairs. 

Lily Evans and Y/n L/n had been friends since their first year at hogwarts. The two had made fast friends on the train ride down, and despite being sorted into two different houses, a close friendship had blossomed between them over their years attending together. They were practically joint at the hip going into their seventh year, but that did not exempt them from some petty squabbles here and there. 

“There you are!” Lily announced as she reached the base of the staircase. Y/n ducked behind the couch, hoping to earn a few more seconds to plan her escape. “You can’t hide from me” Lily says, wretching away the pillow Y/n had been using to cover her head “You aren’t invisible just because you stay still.” The redhead added, giving her victim an unimpressed look. Y/n peaked up at her, giving her a coy smile, hoping that would earn her a shred of sympathy… it did not. “Jumper. Now.” Lilly demanded, holding out her hand. 

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It all started the day prior, both Lily and Y/n had been invited to a party celebrating the start of a new year at Hogwarts. This was commonplace amongst the houses, however this year was different. Instead of the typical house separated parties that would take place scattered throughout the week, each of the house's seventh years had agreed to host one large event in one of the rooms of requirement. In previous years the two had had no problems getting into the parties held in the gryffindor and slytherin common rooms, each of the girls would simply bring the other; attending the parties for arguably the two liveliest houses would prove enough excitement for them and they wouldn’t bother trying to get into the other two. This year though, both had been approached respectively by a very eager James Potter excitedly begging them to come to the ‘craziest welcome party Hogwarts had ever seen’. And though Lily had spent years shooting the bespectacled boy down, he seemed to be growing on her, and as such she acquiesced to him and both girls agreed to come. 

This was not where the issue lied. 

No. It wasn’t as simple as that. For years Y/n had remained the quiet girl at the back of her classes, never drawing attention, never under the spotlight, content to watch her it-girl best friend soak up all the shine. Lily Evans, for one, was tired of it. 

“Y/n, you cannot wear a jumper to a party, what are you? My chaperone?” Lily had been begging her to try on a short, deep blue dress she had brought from home. “I don't know Lils, I’m just more comfortable like this” She said motioning to her jean shorts and comfortable slytherin jumper. “Would it kill you to step out of your comfort zone just this once?” Lily asked, clearly exasperated but with no intention of giving up the fight that easily. Y/n dropped her shoulders and she glanced the full length mirror in the corner of the room, “I don’t know, I think I’ll look silly” she said, turning back to her friend “you should wear it, I bet it would look great on you” she added, waving her hand the direction of the other girl before dropping back onto her bed. “I already have a dress” She stated, turning to her closet and pulling out a red dress that looked fit to cling to every curve and dip on her body. “Wow” Y/n gasped, her eyes going a bit wide “I guess James really did grow on you, huh?”. Lily then hurled a hanger at Y/n’s head. She ducked out of the way, managing to miss the blow it dealt instead to the post of her bedframe, “not. Funny.” Lily said, turning to the mirror and holding the dress against herself. Y/n moved to pick up the blue dress that had been laid over the edge of the bed. It had a similar cut to Lily’s but with a little more structure, the deep blue fabric shimmered in the light as he rubbed the fabric between her fingers, contemplating even attempting to try it on just to appease her best friend. “If you would just put it on, I think you’d see the vision” Lily interrupted her thoughts. “Yeah alright, anything to get you off my back” Y/n teased before heading to the bathroom to change. 

When she returned Lily was busy fixing her makeup in the small mirror on her desk. “Ready to go?” she asked, not bothering to look up at the other girl. “Yep! All set, ready whenever you are” She replied, packing her stuff up a bit too quickly for Lily’s liking. Just as Y/n was at the door Lily looked up to find that, to her horror, she had slipped her jumper back on over the dress, nearly hiding all the glimmering material beneath it. Her eyes went wide as she made to go after the shyer girl, but she bolted before she could get ahold of her. “Y/n you cannot go like that!” She said, throwing her door open and running after the girl, “it’s sacrilege!”

Now they were here, Lily standing above Y/n demanding she remove the offending article of clothing. Lest she suffer the wrath of the gryffindor, Y/n shrugged the material over her head and slapped it into Lily’s awaiting hand. She tucked it under her arm and held her hands out to help the girl on the floor. “You look stunning Y/n/n” She said with fondness in her eyes. She  only shrugged in response. “Though we’ll have to do something about those shoes” She giggled, as y/n stared down at her beat up old converse.”That we can agree on” She said laughing along. 

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The party was in full swing by the time Y/n and Lily arrived. The room of requirement was decorated with glowing orbs of light floating through the air and sparkling decor. It was beautiful by all accounts, however any appreciation for the setting was lost when the atmosphere hit them. Music blasted around the room and people gathered in the center dancing or awkwardly swaying next to one another, some sat on couches on the outskirts of the rooms talking and laughing amongst themselves. Others, the more reserved of the bunch, stood against the walls and took in their surroundings. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, and most looked happy to be back in the place so many considered home. Lily and y/n surveyed the room, looking for anyone they knew well enough to approach. But before they could make selection, hands on either of their shoulders pulled them into a panic. 

“You made it!” The booming voice of one James Potter assaulted their eardrums. 

“James!” Lily said, turning to the boy with what seemed like a genuine smile, y/n gave her quizzical look as she turned to face them, but Lily didn't seem to notice. Too enthralled in her conversation with the head boy. “I’m so glad you decided to show” he said, clearly directing the initial statement at the redhead, “you too y/n.” he added shortly after with his usual grin. 

It was no secret that James and his friends had been wary of Y/n in the beginning. She was slytherin afterall, and friends with Severus Snape in their early years. It was actually Y/n who had introduced Lily and Severus way back when. Even when Lily began to distance herself from him and started spending more time with her fellow Gryffindors, including James and his crew, Y/n had tried to remain a friend to him. However, after a particularly nasty argument early in their sixth year, the two had parted ways and refused to speak since. After that the Gryffindors seemed much more willing to accept Y/n into their group, albeit not as wholly as Lily. 

“Lily! Y/n!” a voice shouted from behind them causing them all to look over their shoulders to see none other than Sirius Black waving excitedly with Peter Pettigrew in toe. Y/n lifted her hand in a small shy waving, throwing the boy a quick smile before looking at her best friend. Lily gave her a knowing look before greeting the raven haired boy. “I didn’t think the two of you would show” He said as he reached them, “but here you are, and look at you” He said. Giving both girls a once over, causing James to throw an arm around Lily’s shoulder “watch it pads” he said, still keeping a light tone, obviously not taking Sirius’ comment too seriously. “Who said I was talking about Evans” Sirius quipped, throwing a wink in y/n's direction. Causing her to have to work double time to fight the blush that threatened to creep up her cheeks every time he was around. 

She didn’t know when it started, but it was made abundantly clear during the last week of last school year that Y/n had a crush on Sirius Black. It wasn’t hard to tell if you really paid attention, but that was her advantage, as long as there was someone else around, no one paid attention to Y/n L/n. She could simply hide in the background and never have to confront the feelings she harbored for the oldest Black brother. 

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The event that had made it clear to her that she had feelings for the boy occurred during a study session in the library. James and Sirius had somehow convinced Lily and Y/n to help them with their final essays for muggle studies. She couldn't remember how exactly they’d been roped into it, but seeing as Lily had already begun to give into James' endless pursuit of her, she assumed it wasn’t all that difficult. 

The four of them were seated at a small table in the library as Y/n attempted to explain the importance of muggle holidays to Sirius. 

“I don't get it” he said, giving her a look of genuine confusion. “There’s a bunny… and it lays eggs…?” She nodded. “... And this all has something to do with God?” She laughed at that before responding “You’ve got it” He dropped his head to the table with an exaggerated sigh. “No, Y/n/n. I don't, I'm going to fail.” He wailed. She placed her hand atop his, “you won’t fail Sirius I promise.” She said as he looked up her doe eyed “Look, you’re almost done” She assured him. The essay was almost finished, and good thing too because Lily and James looked as if they were ready to abandon them any minute, having finished James' essay more than a half hour ago. He’d showed up with a half finished essay, clearly not needing the help, anything to be closer to Lily she guessed. 

After another thirty minutes of explaining the ins and outs of Halloween to the boy, Sirius had a finished 19 inch essay and Y/n had a headache. “Brilliant!” he shouted, rolling up the parchment after allowing the ink to dry. “Finally” Lily sighed as she stood and stretched her arms over her head. James looked up at her, the typical melancholic expression he got when she left him spread over his face. “Yes, Evans. You’re free to go.” Sirius teased as he moved around the table. “Thank God” Y/n said as she stood and rolled her neck, paying little attention to just how close he had gotten, as she turned to grab her book bag she nearly walked face first into the boy's chest. Before she could collide with him however he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her into a tight hug and swaying back and forth a few times. “Oh thank you, Y/n/n” he cooed, as she stiffened from the sudden affection. She placed both hands on his chest and slowly removed herself from the hug “Don’t mention it, Black” she said, laughing a little awkwardly as she tried to hide the heat crawling up her neck “it was easy really”. “Right” He retorted, sarcasm dripping from his voice “and that's why it took you so long” he grabbed her bag before she could get to it and slung it over his shoulder. “It took me so long..” She corrected, reaching a hand out to take her bag from him, only for him to lean back, effectively moving his shoulder out of her reach. “Because getting anything through that thick skull of yours is like rocket science”. Like the petulant child she knew him to be, Sirius stuck out his bottom lip in a faux pout that wore on her nerves like a cheese grater, “always so mean to me y/n/n”. She rolled her eyes at that “as if you're all kindness and sunshine”. Just as the raven haired boy opened his mouth in reply Lily cut in “If you two are done, we’ll be off to bed”. She motioned at her friend, implying that she would be walking her back to the dungeons as she often did when the two hung out. “You two go ahead, I’ll take the snake back to its pit” said Sirius, smirking as though he’d just created a novel comparison. “Why would you- Ow!” James was once again cut off as Lily jammed her elbow into his side. “Okay” she said simply, gathering her things and making for exit, yanking a very confused, albeit elated, James along with her. 

The walk to the slytherin dorms was oddly pleasant, typically y/n was overly annoyed by the endless stream of chatter that flowed from the boy beside her. But tonight it seemed that she didn’t mind all that much. He was going on and on about some muggle music, it was kind of charming watching him talk so passionately about something. She knew about most of it already and wasn’t nearly as fascinated by it as he was, the way he talked about it reminded her of when she’d first learned about magic. She couldn’t quite remember how the conversation started, and at first she simply nodded along with him until he mentioned one of her favorite bands that she’d had the pleasure of seeing live. He’d made her recount the entire set list and tell him which one she thought had sounded best live. Every once in a while she would glance over at him, only to find that he was already watching her, eagerly awaiting her next words. She supposes it was in one of those fleeting moments of eye contact that she put two and two together. The quickening of her pulse, the blush rising in her cheeks, oh good lord. She had a crush on Sirius Black.

[princessfbi]

Have you seen the discourse with Maddie happening in the fandom? I was wondering if you could share some Buckley sibs headcanons,,, yours always makes me smile

Hi Nonnie!

I've seen a little bit sadly. It’s super disappointing that some people can't see the beauty of Buckley Siblings' relationship. I've had to put a block on the discourse tag though because I'm the type of person who will dig incessantly if I get a shred of mess and all that ends up doing is making me mad and then suddenly I'm upset for hours afterwards because I can't shake the feeling which is when I don't get any writing done. We've got to take care of our mental health just as much as everything else and I live by my number one philosophy which is to be kind and respectful and to mind my own business. I like what I like, read what I want, write what feels right, and I stopped letting others dictate what makes me happy.

Here's some Buckley Siblings HCs just for you! Some of them I've featured in fics and some I've just had floating around in my brain:

Buck can drink his coffee black but he prefers it with sugar and maybe a little cream. This is because that's how Maddie takes hers. When they were younger and Maddie started drinking coffee, she would let Buck have a sip of hers until eventually she just would make him his own (much smaller) cup.

Maddie bought her Jeep with her own money. She'd been saving up cash because her parents would drag their heels on helping her get any source of independence so she decided to do it herself. Buck saved up about 80 dollars (mostly in ones) that he rolled up and put in a little box before he gave it to her for her birthday. In return Maddie told him he got "front seat dibs".

Maddie taught Buck how to swim. She did it because one time Buck cannonballed into the deep end before he proceeded to panic and Maddie had to go in and yank him above water. He clung to her like a koala for a few lessons and so when Maddie finally had to just dunk him and teach him how to put his head underwater she did that thing you do to babies and blew on his face. He couldn't even be mad about it because he touched the bottom of the pool which was awesome!

Any Father's Day/Mother's Day activities that Buck did at school he just made for Maddie.

Any event that happened at school where parents would come for lunch or whatever, Maddie would get a note (she got very good at forging her mother's signature) that would get her out of a few classes so she could walk over to Buck's school.

The first time Buck climbed a tree, he got stuck and Maddie had to come get him.

Maddie gave Buck the safe sex talk in the parking lot of JC Penneys. There were pamphlets.

When Maddie was first dating Doug, she was driving Buck to practice (which her parents refused to do because they thought Buck wouldn't be able to figure out a way to get there so then it solved their problem of him not playing but they were so wrong) and got a flat tire. Doug came and helped her change it but Buck hated all the little comments Doug would make so he asked his dad to teach him how to change a flat (one of the few things Philip Buckley was actually pretty eager to be involved in).

Buck grew up with Maddie defending him constantly whenever his mom and sometimes his dad would say something particularly harsh so when he started to push back it was usually to defend Maddie because that was around the time she was starting to chafe at their insistence to stay quiet and hidden from the world in their restrictive grief. Maddie deserved to live her own life and even if it tasted like vinegar on his tongue to say it, he would every time his mom or dad made some backhanded about her going off to live with Doug in Boston. Whenever Maddie would come back to town to visit, Buck would beg his parents not to hound her because one time it got so bad, Maddie cut her visit short and didn't call for months. In turn, Maddie always respected Buck's choices. She may not have agreed with them but she would back him no matter what.

Buck was the only one of their family to show up to Maddie and Doug's wedding.

Maddie taught Buck how to ride a bike which was confirmed via canon so I was VINDICATED but Maddie also taught Buck how to drive. She came back to Hershey the summer Buck turned 16 and helped him get in his hours he needed driving with an adult before taking his test.

During the summers, Maddie would sign Buck up for the summer reading program at the library. Buck only had to read ten books to get a ten dollar gift card to an arcade that she'd planned on taking him for his birthday but Buck decided to read the fifty books that you needed to get a gift card for a pizza party so he and Maddie could go.

Birthdays weren't really a thing in their house but Buck and Maddie always tried to do something for each other. Even when he was away Buck made sure to send Maddie flowers on her birthday to the hospital.

Buck never really knew he was smart until he met the 118. Like he knew he was smart but he didn't know he was smart until Bobby said something. But he never thought he was stupid either because Maddie went out of her way make sure he knew that growing up. She would introduce Buck with a fun fact always. "This is my little brother, Evan. He just made varsity for football at his school!" "This is Evan, my little brother. He made honor roll this semester!"

The Jeep was their escape for a long time so it was an easy choice when Maddie saw that Buck needed a more permanent one.

When Maddie would get in a fight with her parents (which was often) she would go to her room and fume because she needed a minute to be alone and Buck would sit outside her door and stick his fingers under it. Sometimes when he could hear Maddie crying, he'd shove a tissue under the door too. Sometimes Maddie would hold his fingers.

Buck's favorite holiday was Fourth of July because he and Maddie would go get the biggest mixed ICEEs and then sit with the top of the Jeep off to go watch the fireworks.

Buck one time called Maddie in a panic because he got roped into taking someone to prom and he had no idea what a corsage was

Maddie and Buck have very strong opinions about corn on the cob. Like STRONG opinions. Bobby does too so it much be a Midwestern thing but Chimney made the mistake of making a throw away comment about how he heard New Jersey was known for having the best corn and he lived to regret it.

Maddie hates hiking but Buck loves it because he can climb things. So, Maddie found him a rock climbing gym and got him a membership his fifteenth birthday.

Coming from the household that they did where the emotional neglect was so apparent should've crippled Buck and Maddie but instead it made two beautiful people who care very deeply about one another. They saved each other and I love them so much!

[hughiecampbelle]

Vulcan (Arthur Shelby Oneshot) Pt. 2/12

Character/s: Arthur

Word Count: 1,145

Tag List: @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt @myriadimagines @lilyswritings @encounterthepast @writerdream22 @death-of-a-mermaid @woahitslucyylu @obsessedunicorn24 @thedarkqueenofavalon @fangirlsarah16 @captivatedbycillianmurphy @theshelbyclan @creativemayhems @soleil-dor @thegirlwithoutaname87 @babylooneytoonz @peakyxtommy @locke-writes

A/N: Hello I'm a liar I stayed up v late to write this and I'm too impulsive and impatient not to post it asap!!! I hope this one is as good as the first!!! And makes you want to read more!!! Again this is my first BIG series which is kinda scary considering there was a time I thought I'd never be able to write more than 500 words! Look at me now :D Anyways, be sure to check out part one my loves and I just really hope you like it!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💖💜

Gif Credit: @peakycillianblinders :)

FIC MASTERLIST PART ONE. / PART TWO. / PART THREE.

WANNA BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST?

ROMAN GODS SERIES: Jupiter /Juno / Mars / Vulcan / Mercury / Minerva / Neptune / Venus / Pluto / Janus / Caelus / Apollo

You are no more human than himself.

Nothing, though, more human than mans own emotions. The very things that beat and pound against the cage of his ribs, breaking every bone, tearing through himself in an effort to conceal until he is nothing but ruins himself, until there is no fight left. The very things that rule him. Control and berate his spirits better than any blood could. It's not their words spoken behind closed doors, or the distance they put between themselves, but their expressions. The pity. The disgust. The horror. As if he is less, as if he were mortal. Atop their pedestals they are in power, in control, their true selves hidden behind masks. He lives truthful, exposed, waiting for infection. Begging for it. Few can understand, fewer sympathize, but from the moment you looked at him, watched the lines in his forehead crease, his mouth fall, his entire outward being change, you knew. How could Gods possibly live among their people and not pick up a few habits? Not just the things they mirrored with ease. Joy, sadness, even anger became second nature. He was burdened with more, with complications. Anger became fury, rage, bitterness, even destruction.

They were scared not because they could not understand what it felt to hurt so deeply, to bleed to freely, but because pride lived in him where they felt nothing but shame. Shame for screaming, crying, sobbing. For finding their knees weak, breakable, their spirits broken, their worlds shattering before their eyes. Shame for falling, shattering, letting themselves be weak, vulnerable, human. He was not. Openly, he let these things seep through his words, his actions, carrying it on his back when there was no where else to put it, never daring to put up a front of invulnerability. Gods could be fragile, too.

And just as they could be fragile, they were dangerous.

Not once would he let you forget that.

You never saw it. Not when it was happening. When his arms grew tired, when his back ached, when his eyes saw red. The myths, the stories, the thing of nightmares. Horrifying. Truly horrifying. In his prime, nothing left unharmed, untouched. Pushed to the edge, he didn't just fall, he put on a goddamn show. Sometimes you wished to watch, see for yourself what it was that made others shake, what made them leave everything they had in his name, praying for joy. Sometimes you decided it was better to leave it up to your imagination. You were there after though, ordered to clean up, collect his pieces, hold him together until someone more familiar put him back together again. He trusted you, for what reason you still questioned. Let you get close enough to hush his own unrecognizable sobs, plucking the gun, knife, pipe from his weak hand, wipe the red from his cheek. Still wet. It wasn't a fall from grace, not exactly, but a taste, a glimpse of how fragile ones world really was when immortals lost their grip. Just as they could play nice, offer riches, they could leave nothing but ash in their wake.

Little fires everywhere.

The ruins were magnificent. Shocking, and amazing. Homes unrecognizable. Bodies shredded, anonymous now, without worth. The grass and trees blackened, smoking even as the sun rose, welcoming a new day. You never could get used to the smell of burning flesh, the stinging in your lungs enough to bring tears to your eyes. The clouds grey, moody, as far as you could see. A reminder, as if the unsettled silence weren't enough. All that's left is the quiet cry of the crackling fire, weaker and weaker with every passing second. He could not bear to look. A man gone blind in his rage. You'd seen it enough with the mortals to know. Humans had a funny way of wanting to protect themselves, their psyche, even at their most destructive. Funny, and odd. He possessed these same traits. Weakened by what he's done, exhausted, there is not another threat of this for a long time. But when it comes, because it always does, he'll scorch the new earth, this new life, without hesitation.

Sometimes, it's not an outward cry, but inward. A gun to his head, the metal kissing his temple goodnight. The rope around his neck, soft against his skin. The booze sweet, tempting, making his steps light and careless. Someone is there before it's too late, before there is no God left, easing him off the ledge the way they think they'll always have to. This you do not see. You do not hear. This is kept among gods, another secret they are sworn to, another thing they can use against one another. But you know, as you would. And again, you understand. Stitched across his features. A crime not yet committed. In due time, he promises, without a single word, and you believe him. Succumbed to his emotions. He does not berate them, or belittle, but joins them, knowing, despite how much it hurts, how beautiful they really can be.

Something none of them could begin to understand.

All of this is worth the euphoria, the tears of joy, walking the thin line between elation and madness, even if it only lasts one second.

Lower on the ranks, the impoverished class, fresh blood, sent to do the work no one else wanted because you had no other choice. Unlike the rest, he was eager to join, to help, anything to rid himself of his own guilt, gain back the respect he's lost. A glance is all you share. That of secrecy. Those moments, where he is shattered, the source of so much heartache, kept between you. Not out of personal gain, for leverage, but because you, too, have found yourself the cause, not the affect. The rest underestimate, overlooking, never meeting your eyes, but he is careful. He doesn't know, none do, but he is one of few who see man and God all the same. Strengths and weaknesses. Pain and suffering. Love and war. A multitude of pieces, each worthy in their own right of respect, of understanding and patience. One is not only their mistakes, their faults, all the things that keep them awake at night, just as they are not only their vigor, their vitality, all the battles they've won. They are all of them, and more, things he cannot even see, nor begin to comprehend. So, he looks you in the eye, as he does the others, regardless of who they take orders from.

As long as he's concerned, with that cap, you're one of them. The rest of the family, they differentiate, they seclude, they draw a line right down the middle. Us and them. Worthy and unworthy. Those that decide and those to be disposed.

Not Arthur, though.

He is different.

[multistoty]

" it's okay... i'm here now... " ( for padmé ! )

Padme was becoming tired of people wanting to kill her. This was the third time the senator had attempts made on her life. People would often forget the power of wanting freedom and dedicating yourself to fight with it. For just like the jedi's advance, the light of goodness would always call forth the darkness who hated being in their rays. it had been a rough few days. Anakin's force signature always felt like a gentle blanket of safety and butterfly kisses against her exposed ivory skin. Her husband had always been like a balm to the greatest wounds of her soul. He was the only person who truly got to see the girl behind the Amidala mask of duty. Even Dorme and Sabe had to believe her to be always certain and shrews for them to help her and die for her like the Nabooian training had allowed. After hours of torture and questioning, her body had felt more leaden and exhausting to be encased in. Her braids now fraying at ends from the intricate updo she had been outfitted with on the Senate floor. A silent prayer had escaped her that her guards and handmaiden's had survived the kidnapping. They were the best of the best and the senate floor was crawling with problems and people to root out this problem. Bail Organa had bid her ado and the next thing she had seen was an unknown figure bashing her over the head with something distinctively medal and taking her to this darkened expansive space ship. She had had a bit of time after waking to think about who this could be. Were the separatist truly smart enough to take on one of the famed politicians of the republic? Whoever this was has been smart enough to even take the pins in her hair that could be used as lock picks or weapons. The chains had bit into her skin. A smattering of dirt and blood against her now shredded gown the color of red so deep that it looked purple. It had been the sith. Padme had no force connection, but the ship had felt as if you it would beg you for help if it could talk. there was no warmth in the clinical air. It was the unfeeling nature of those who viewed power and opulence enough to send a message. She had not faltered at all to their questions or tricks. Yet, the had made it clear that her execution was intimate. There was no bed in this cell and the cuffs barely allowed her to move a foot from the wall. They clearly knew how formidable a foe she was. The ground had been her bed when they hadn't knocked her out in the cacophony of questions and pain. The figure of her vivid blue eyed husband believing that even the nervous girl who had done her best for her planet and the freedom she believed in and still saw her as a beautiful force. It was his face that gave her some pause about dying for such sentiments. How worried he must be especially with whatever pictures the holos had caught. He would be unable to call her his wife and all that that had meant. As much as the coffee stained eyed girl had respected the council, they often held her Ani back. They would see the sense of attachment as friendship instead of wanting to kiss each other senseless. Her daydreams had been of the shirtless boy who only a night ago told her all about his time in battle and the new tech project now sat at their side table. She could hear her intelligent man talk about wires and bolts for time to come even if she lacked complete literacy in the subject. Her happiness and the knowledge that she was loved by many was something they could not take or break from her. They had missed the ring that marked her as a Skywalker tied against her chest by the corset strings.

They weren't so evil is to touch her that way even unconscious. The world wouldn't allow her to wear the gold band on her finger so it was the next closest place- her heart.Blood poured from her head like a macabre waterfall tinging the air around it with a strong coppery smell. She had scattered away readying to fight of whoever had come for after the last torture session. The slimy feel of them entering her mind still strong. The world had been disoriented until she saw those eyes. those eyes that were the closest thing to home. A wave of new strength taking her shaking legs as she moved to jump into his arms before being stopped by her bonds. Tears glistened in her eyes though she knew the importance of not drawing attention to the chosen one who had once again saved her. Probably Artoo as well for they had traded droids with vows. A picture of their love out in the open for the world to see yet not understand. Relief washed over her as well as fear. Ani didn't always think first when it came to her and she had no doubt that her gaunt and pale form would set him on edge. Padme would have to figure out some strength inside her to walk out on her own two feet. They had not broken her and they never would. Her rosebud pout raised upward at the sight of him and warmed by the sound of his velvety voice hitting her ears in complete contrast to the threats and dead air she had been faced with. "Ani- I- I'm sorry I thought you were someone else, my love. You don't know how happy I am to see you." Had he brought their best friend and father figure in Obi-wan? She knew the master would not begrudge the senator for her weakness though the calm lake of a man was someone she would always want the approval of. If her guards were masqueraded, the last thing the former queen wanted was for any of her family to be in danger. Ahsoka too.

"We really have to stop seeing each other like this."

[hughiecampbelle]

Achilles Heel (Thomas Shelby Oneshot)

Character/s: Thomas

Word Count: 1,068

Inspired By: Liability by Lorde

Tag List: @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt @myriadimagines @lilyswritings @encounterthepast @writerdream22 @death-of-a-mermaid @lotsoffandomrecs @woahitslucyylu @obsessedunicorn24 @thedarkqueenofavalon @fangirlsarah16 @theshelbyclan @captivatedbycillianmurphy @creativemayhems @soleil-dor @thegirlwithoutaname87 @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby @riana-jannat

A/N: I'm tired of being called "too sensitive" so I wrote about it. I'll get back to the fic requests this weekend, I just needed this to get it all out before I can focus on anything. This sort of got away from me, being a lot longer than I anticipated, and though I know it could be better, I quite like it :) Anyways hope you like it my loves!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💖💜

Summary: Where Thomas sees weakness, you see strength 💕

Gif Credit: @nofckingfighting :)

FIC MASTERLIST PART ONE. / PART TWO. / PART THREE.

WANNA BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST?

From the moment he saw you, he knew. The ways in which God herself sewed you, and him, and the rest of the world, were different. She made you in her image, her divine, and yet the things in the world, her child, the people on it, turned you into who you are. What you are. Mass casualties. Not in the same sense, though. You were enemies at war, not allies. Where he was jaded, jagged, sharp, his body a myriad of tense angles and tight muscles, you were nothing of the sort. Your skin made thin, wanting, begging to be torn apart by the slights look, the harshest word. The sorrows of the world turned your insides black, toxic, poisoned, leaving you a crumbled, coughing up your own tainted heart in your hands. Your eyes an inky pool, tears streaming down your face. The criticisms of others were arrows, puncturing deep within your spinal chord. Every where you went you bruised easily, effortlessly, without a second thought. Pieces of you catching on corners, punctured by nails in the floorboards, shredded by the weight of what was to come.

Behind that desk, Thomas Shelby expected nothing of you: his first mistake.

This life of yours could be a painful one, the difference was he was ready and you were not. Encased, a bullet in his own right, flinching softly, instead of the violent ways you reached for yourself. A show, a ballet, of movements, eyes shut, cries loud, your prayers spoken softly. She would not help though, she couldn't. There was nothing of you to fix. Only the first day. A glass shattering, slipping from its silver platter. The rest only stared. Sometimes it seemed you were the only one to ever understand what had happened, to hear it for what it is and not what they assume. Smashing glass, a glittering, shimmering puddle at your feet, sticky with whiskey. Your face on fire. Determined, nonetheless. Picking yourself up, cleaning it off, steadying the shaking in your hands. A job offer. Word spread quick in a place like this. You, with those scared eyes, those nervous, writhing hands, all the ways in which you held yourself with care, tenderness, too aware of the way they could see right through you, stood in that line among many. Stepping through those doors, heavy against your paper skeleton. It wouldn't take more than a rainy day to ruin you. Something he couldn't help but noting.

It wasn't the gun, or the man behind the gun that got you killed in this business, but feeling too much. Letting your emotions get the best of you. Wearing your heart on your fucking sleeve.

The rest questioned why you were accepted on the spot, the rest turned away before they had the chance to prove themselves. Some thought he was sweet on you, others joked you reminded him of his mother. Fragile. But the war had done something to him, and in return, he would do it to you. A man as arrogant as himself believing there is one way to be. That the spikes under his skin and the bite of his teeth were superior to your kind smiles and soft touches. If you were going to be part of this job, no matter how small a role you played, you had to be resilient. He had no time for tears, especially bit by his assistant. The glass left the pads of your fingers shredded, but the shame you carried from then on out would only grow. He was not an easy man to please, but he picked your every breath apart. It became a living nightmare. The others, in response, were far kinder, standing up for you behind closed doors, their tones pounding on his closed office door. The words were muffled, suffocated, but you understood nothing about you was said with bad intentions.

At least, not by them.

The words he plucked were made of razors, intending to slice you right down the middle. You weren't sure what he liked more. Seeing the pain in your eyes as if you'd been slapped across the face, holding your stinging skin, or the way, after, you straightened your back and held your head high in response, turning the other cheek, daring him to do it again. Those malleable pieces of yourself weren't hardening. The care you felt towards everyone regardless of who they were or what they did couldn't change because of a bully. He wasn't changing anything about you the way he anticipated, you were simply putting on a better act. The way you slumped in your chair didn't go unnoticed. The thought of quitting dug itself into your mind daily. Waking up, getting ready, you fought the impulse to lash out, tell that man to fuck off, and never see him again. But that meant waving your white flag, and one thing you were not was a quitter. Nothing would you make you kneel and kiss his feet.

It was in your nature, to bleed when others did, to mourn the dead of which you did not know, to feel the pain others neglected. He was no different. So no, he did not respect this. He looked down on you, and anyone else alike, because of this. There was no changing his stubborn, small mind. But he turned a blind eye to all the times he take solace in this. A late night, a regular occurrence, Thomas bent over his desk, eyes heavy, head pounding. There was no end in sight. You knocked on the door with hesitation, not wanting to startle him, intending to wish him a goodnight. What you found should not be left alone. Instead, with grace, and care, you slipped his coat over his shoulders, placing the papers just out of reach. Without effort his head fell in his arms, sound asleep in seconds. You locked every door and window, turning the lights low, making your chair a bed for the night. No one should sleep alone. He never mentioned that night, nor was he any less harsh because of it, but you knew it was something he thought about often, appreciating in his own way. . . .

Think what he might, say what he might, assume the worst based on nothing but a characteristic, but there was absolutely fault or flaw in being too sensitive.