#long for him to be some star grandfather figure

[rebornrosess]

idk why it’s only hitting me so hard now that the series is done but death scares me a lot but especially because i worry i’ll have never told someone everything they should know before they’re gone. and logan will never know that his pinky was a mother.

[milkbobatyun]

the brief taste of freedom

pairing: yandere!il capitano x reader

genre: angstober, events, yandere

summary: as the captain's wife, others thought the title brought power, fame and money. yet, it was weighed down by the chains of confinement. your yearning to escape had been caught by the captain. would you be able to escape, unscathed?

word count: 1k

C O N T E N T W A R N I N G : yandere behaviour, slight manipulation (?)

a/n: and with that, this fic marks the conclusion of angstober. i hope everyone reads them has enjoyed the fics as much as i have enjoyed writing them (though some were quite rushed LMAO) here where i live, it's already october 31st, so for those who celebrate halloween, happy halloween and have fun trick or treating !! (mini fun fact: this year, i did a home-made cosplay of choso and offered candy/scared children hehe ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

as a child, you had dreamed that love and marriage meant chaste kisses, long vows filled with love and adoration. you relished in the mirages of stunning dresses, chiming wedding bells and petals falling from heaven. but your hopes and fantasies were dashed when you were offered like a prize to the first harbinger, il capitano.

he was a quiet, stoic man of little words. it was no surprise that the wedding ceremony was subdued, a simple signing of a contract, the scratching of pen on paper replacing the chimes of wedding bells.

you should’ve expected this from a harbinger. he held total control over what you could do. your name as il capitano’s wife was merely a façade.

the weight of your title was a mockery. it was supposed to symbolise power, pride, even admiration from the nobles of snezhnaya, but it only brough you confinement and solitude. you had to ask his permission to leave the house, so you stuck to the shadows of the mansion, a wife in name only.

there were no late-night conversations, endearing glances, romantic dinners under candlelight. in fact, you spent most of your time dining alone, the grandfather clock’s rhythmic beats the only sound in the silence.

sometimes, you sat at your window, hearing the maids gossiping about a new festival in town, their laughter and chatter striking a pang of longing within your yearning heart.

he allowed you material things, but outings were out of the question. with every refusal, every permission denied, the fire in you grew stronger. you wanted to escape this frigid prison and experience life.

he knew of how you would sneak into the warmth of the greenhouse at night, peering up at the night sky of snezhnaya, relishing in the display of lights every night.

but recently, he had noticed footprints in the snow, ones that trailed from beneath your window. his butler informed him of how the madame would often retire early in the night, silence engulfing her quarters, with orders to not disturb her until the morning.

il capitano didn’t think there would be a day when he caught you, sneaking away under the watchful gaze of the stars.

il capitano stood by the floor to ceiling windows, overlooking the gardens like a silent guardian. in the distance, he could see the warm glow of festival lights, the people bustling like ants.

nursing a glass of wine in his hand, il capitano watched the people mill about.

suddenly, in the shadows of the garden, he caught sight of a huddled figure, wrapped in the silken sheets of your blankets. they clung to the shadows, feet treading carefully in the ice cold, white powder.

anger seized him in its ugly grip. how dare you sneak out of the manor, when he provided you everything you could ask for. his clawed hand tightened against the wine glass, almost crushing the fragile object in his grasp.

silently, he abandoned the cracked glass on the nearest table, his furred cloak settled around his shoulders as he stalked towards the door, footsteps echoing with the intent to confront the one who dared to escape from his grasp.

you were so close to the hole in the garden wall, freedom just a mere few steps away.

your movements are stilled as a cold, clawed hand crushes your wrist in its wrathful grasp, fear coursing down your spine, turning you into an icy statue.

“where,” his voice growled, a threatening edge to his voice. “do you think you’re going?” the cold, no, fear rendered you speechless, your teeth chattering against each other.

“the…the festival,” you manage to whimper out, face grimacing at the force of his grasp on your wrist. you were certain it would be turning tender purple and blue the next morning. your breath was caught in your throat, the last warm puff of air suspended in the air, as though it was holding its breath, waiting to see what the captain would say.

“your little games, it ends here, tonight, in this very garden,” il capitano hisses, his grip unrelenting. under his armour, he could feel how your pulse raced, its rhythm erratic and feeble.

with your remaining hand, you clutched the blanket tighter around you. il capitano could see, underneath, you had donned the plain clothes of commoners.

fury consumed him like a flame. he gave you premium silks from liyue, commissioning the famous lady chiori to design your outfits based on the latest trends. and yet, you lower yourself to the level of those lowly ants and don their filthy clothes.

a muscle twitched in il capitano’s jaw, but your view is obscured by his heavy helmet.

il capitano weighed his choices carefully.

forbid you from leaving and lose your favour or let you go to the festival and risk you running away.

neither seemed favourable to his calculating mind, so he chose to compromise. he would sacrifice his precious time to accompany you to the commoner’s festival.

with a heavy sigh, il capitano relented.

“if you are so intent on mingling with the commoners,” he sighed, voice edged with disdain, “then i will accompany you.”

lit only by the faint moonlight, he watched as astonishment and joy settled into your features, your brows raised in surprise. il capitano, the feared harbinger, would spare a morsel of his time to accompany his wife to a festival hosted by ordinary snezhnaya citizens?

that was unheard of, unprecedented. who knew what rumours the nobles, with an abundance of free time on their hands, would gossip.

the il capitano, going soft for his wife. utterly scandalous.

“but…” the words had barely escaped your lips before you hastily shut your mouth, intent that no more words fell from your lips, lest it cause him to change his mind.

“enough.” his tone was final, leaving no space for argument. “you will have your night, however, you will be under my watch and,” he continued, voice laced with disgust. “you will change out of those filthy clothes before you leave.”

it wasn’t a statement you had wanted, for you didn’t desire to draw attention to yourself when you attended such events, however, something in his voice held a glimmer of a sharp, hidden weapon, a clear warning: this fantasy of escaping would end here, he would not be lenient.

for tonight, your freedom had been granted. you could only pray to the archons that il capitano would feel good humoured enough to accompany you once more, at another time.

taglist (open): @leehanscorydora, @pastelmitzuki

∧,,,∧ ( ̳• · • ̳)  © curated with love by milkbobatyun 2024 / づ ♡

[vwoop-prince]

YJ S3 Dick, still in the midst of his fever dream, hides underneath the 'souvenir' instead of behind some boxes, and accidentally opens the airlock trying to take care of the Parademons. The others get it to close... but not before Nightwing is thrown into space.

There, he stares at the ship holding his friends and mentors. There, he wishes more than anything that he can, somehow, survive. There, he tries to live, if only so his family don't have to bury him like Jason.

There, Nightwing dies, wanting to save everyone, even with the cold seeping into his bones far too quickly for a regular section of space.

Then, Dick opens his eyes to... Earth? There's a little house, and grass, and trees, but there's a bubble of green over it all. Outside of that green was an entire castle, one that looked like it should have far more support beams than it does for even a hope that it stays standing.

And the sky was swirling shades of that same green. It makes him think of Lazarus.

"Well, that's something you don't see every day." He whips his head behind him, a bit too fast for Earth's atmosphere, but it doesn't hurt him. Past the bubble of green was a blue-skinned adult in purple robes, the insides of a grandfather-clock fitted inside their torso, and a black staff with a stopwatch on its top. Beside them was a man with snow white hair, glowing green eyes, a crown of frozen fire dancing above his head, and the most galaxy-like cloak Dick's ever seen clasped to his shoulders. He's wearing... a hazmat suit? Maybe? The twinkling stars and odd lighting of wherever he is were giving him a bit of a headache.

But in front of those two, within this bubble, was...

"DICK!" Wally shouted with unrestrained glee, a blur overtaking his spot for barely a heartbeat before Dick's stuck in a crushing hug that he reciprocates once his brain stops feeling like its melting.

He doesn't know how long it took for them to calm down, but the man with the crown spoke up after a time, as Wally was still wiping their faces free of tears. "Welcome to the Infinite Realms, Nightwing." Dick barely even registered that he was still wearing his suit, but now it felt suffocating. "I suppose you're the one Clockwork was holding out for; There shouldn't've been enough Ectoplasm around you to form a Ghost, and your physical body's still in space. I can see why you like this one, though, Clockie," he states flippantly, turning to his companion. Almost like he didn't expect Dick to pay too close attention to what he was saying.

"Either way, there's two options for you." The man didn't let Dick swallow his tears and question anything. Dick's not sure if he's grateful or not. "First: Stay in the Realms permanently. You'll see Kid Flash whenever you want and learn to be a Ghost with the denizens of the Realms. Maybe find your parents."

"But..." Dick pulls away from Wally, keeping him at arms length, eyes flitting between them. The two outside the bubble were distinctly... ghost-like, so the mentions of 'Ghosts' make sense. But Wally looked... alive. A bit pale, a bit thin... but alive. Dick can't see any of his own skin to see if it was blue or tinted that way, but the Nightwing symbol on his chest kept flickering between its own blue and this 'Realms' green. "But--What about the others? What about you? Why can't you come home?" The last two, he focuses on Wally, because now he can feel a heartbeat beneath his gloves. Wally's alive. He's alive.

His friend just shrugs. "Something about their portals not fit for the living? I'm meant to wait for someone to figure out a permanent portal, but they won't tell me how long that'll take." Wally glares at the... 'Ghosts'? There was a heat to it, but it also seemed like this was a well-worn argument.

"The permanent portal was always an 'if', Wallace West. And that is entirely dependent on if Richard Grayson takes the second option," the clock Ghost--Clockwork?--speaks up. But instead of the adult Dick was expecting, there was an elderly Ghost in their place. Still with the time motif. Was that... more literal than Dick took it?

"Yes, the second option..." The crowned man glares daggers at Clockwork. The temperature dips below comfortable. Dick tries to blink the spaceship and stars out of his sight, withdrawing his arms from Wally to try and warm himself. Tries to remember he's not in space. "The second option is that you return to your body... changed. You'll be able to protect Earth better, stay with your alive family, save the Lost Ones... for a price."

Dick doesn't know if he should ignore the plural in 'Lost Ones'. He doesn't know if he's reading too much into how, in this Realm, apparently only his parents were able to be found. Where's Jason? He doesn't dare hope, but...

"What's the price?"

The man smiles and a ring of blue forms around his waist. It splits in two and travels up and down his body, replacing the cloak and whatever clothes he was actually wearing with a NASA shirt, worn jeans, and red sneakers actually duct taped together. The blue tint to his otherwise tan skin fades completely. His hair turns black. His eyes turn blue.

He was like a taller, slightly slimmer, way hotter version of Bruce.

The man walks through the bubble, but doesn't disturb the grass beneath his feet. "You become the Ghost King's vassal." Dick flinches away and almost hides behind Wally. "Not my idea! But, well... it is either this, or your permanent death."

"What does becoming a vassal do to him?" Wally asks, gently trying to stop Dick from breaking his ribs with how tightly he was hugging himself. Does he even have ribs?

"He gains my powers. Ice, electricity, invisibility, intangibility, flight... He becomes a Halfa. He becomes what I was, in life. Just... needing to make offerings to me, now and then. Something like that, at least. I give him powers, he gives me a chunk of, I don't know, chocolate once a week. Like a warlock."

Wally keeps talking to the man, keeps getting information that he knows he should pay attention to, but something in his chest screams to accept this deal, and he can't focus on anything else.

Nightwing can protect. He can return to life and go back to Blüdhaven, be the Vigilante they need. He can visit Gotham every now and then, help with cases and stop criminals from harming others. He can see his brother. He can see his friends. He can eat Alfred's cookies, and have little get-togethers with Babs and the Team--hell, he can argue with Bruce.

And all he has to do is... give an offering to this guy? The Ghost King? Every once in a while?

"There's no other price?" The King turns his attention to Dick. His eyes had shifted to a blue-green that almost hypnotize him. The green swirls, the blue forms and melts like snowflakes, and he can't look away.

He takes another step forward and Wally steps to the side. There was familiarity between them. Wally deferred to him. Dick can't quite tell why. Though, with how Wally hasn't once looked at Clockwork, maybe it's because he's... grounded? Are all speedsters in trouble with, what, the Ghost of Time? That... actually makes perfect sense.

"I'll be honest, Nightwing: You've impressed me." The weight behind the King's words lifts the ones that've been on his shoulders since he was nine. "You remind me of myself. Maybe, if I wasn't a Halfa... If I had a mentor... I could've been like you.

"Despite Clockwork's insistence over the years that I get back in touch with the living, I've held off. When he eventually suggested that I help create another Halfa, I locked him in his tower for twenty years. I didn't want anyone to go through what I had. But, now... I see that you won't. You can't. Even if you hide this deal--our shared powers... You'll still have people by your side. Strong people. Smart people. You can already handle yourself. And I'd love to see what you can do--who you can save--with my help."

There was maybe two inches between their faces when the King finishes speaking. Dick roves his eyes across the other's face, trying to find the common and familiar ticks that show lies and deceit and manipulation. All he finds is sincerity and genuine care.

Wally plays with his fingers from the corner of his eye, gaze hopeful as he looks between the two of them. Wally, who was alive and breathing and able to leave if he accepts. Eventually. Somehow.

Dick Grayson sends a quiet apology to his parents and hopes they will forgive him for being a little bit selfish.

"I accept."

He flings his eyes open. Above him, domino mask too wobbly to be properly secured anymore, was Robin crying and begging him to wake up. His hands were sloppily placed over his heart. Batman was trying to drag him away, the firm set of his jaw screaming grief.

Nightwing gasps once he registers his lungs burning.

There's a large cacophony of noise, multiple bright suits and people hounding over him, and the distinct artificial taste of slightly-too-much oxygen that the ship with the Parademons had. That he flew out of and died. He was still too cold.

Someone moves their arm beneath his knees and shoulder and Dick passes out.

(Dick 'Nightwing' Grayson dies in space. Ghost King Danny Phantom likes this too-human Hero. They split their souls in half, take one piece of the others, and all they know is that Phantom is now Nightwing's Patron Deity. Danny uses ice, for electricity killed him. Dick uses electricity, for ice killed him. They are opposites, and yet so incredibly similar. Clockwork was looking forward to when Danny starts putting off his paperwork to hang out with his new 'friend'.)

[inmyheaddd]

beneath the same stars - averyjameson

summary: avery’s mind is flooded with doubts about the hawthorne house, and thoughts that she hasn’t told anyone. somehow, she finds herself confiding in jameson hawthorne. a/n: aww baby averyjameson :( this takes place before they are officially together / between tig/thl (jameson is sooo down bad omg) wc: 1.8k

the rooftop wasn’t her favorite spot, but it was his, and tonight, avery didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts. 

after avery had climbed up very cautiously, she noticed jameson sitting dangerously close to the edge, sitting with his legs dangling off, without a care in the world. 

the wind rippled through his half-buttoned white shirt, and he turned around right as avery neared, sending her one of those grins that made her brain feel light, and kept his eyes on her right until she sat next to him.

she forced herself to ignore it, “you could’ve told me you were coming up here,” she said, settling down a few feet away— close, but not too close. and much further away from the edge.

he analyzed the way she looked from where she sat, before looking back at the sky infront of him. “figured you’d find me anyway.”

jameson reached over to the other side of him, then held out a recently opened bar of dark chocolate to avery. 

she stared at the chocolate for a second before taking it. 

“i hate that you’re actually right sometimes.” she didn’t eat the chocolate right away, and just stared at the floor. 

jameson looked intrigued. “careful, mystery girl, that almost sounded like a compliment.” he grinned, but his tone was softer than usual. he could sense something was up with avery. 

he gave her a long look, then eyed the distance between them, asking a silent question. 

avery gave a slight nod, and jameson moved to sit beside her. shoulders nearly touching, so close jameson could practically hear her mind whirring. 

they sat like that for a while, the silence stretching but not breaking. avery could hear the soft rustle of the wind through the trees, and the sound of cars far away. 

it made her think of how different this was to her life just a few months ago. nearly nothing was the same.

“sometimes,” she said suddenly, trailing off with her voice barely audible. “sometimes i think about leaving,” she exhaled a deep breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

jameson turned his head slightly, but not all the way. “leaving hawthorne house?”

“yeah.” she picked at the wrapper of the chocolate, tearing it into smaller and smaller and smaller pieces. “the house. the money. all of it.”

“would you, though?” his tone was careful, which is a word that was almost never used to describe anything about jameson. but with her, he was careful. 

avery shrugged. “i don’t know. i mean, it’s too late, right? there’s people who want the worst for me. without oren and everything, i’d be in danger.” she looked at her lap, mumbling quietly and trying to sound detached. 

she couldn’t tear the small pieces of wrapper any more, so fiddled with her fingers instead. 

“isn’t that crazy?” she chuckled as she set her hands down back in her lap, but it sounded hollow. “people i don’t even know, people who know nothing about me, who want to harm me. or— or people that know too much about me, or people that knew your grandfather, or—“  she cut her nervous rambling off with a sigh, tucking her hair behind her ears.

she couldn’t believe what her life was now. this was the first time she was really confiding to anyone other than libby or max about these thoughts she’s been having, about the huge what ifs. 

jameson observed her quietly. he wanted to reach out, but he didn’t know if it was alright to do that yet. 

for some reason that avery couldn’t quite pinpoint, she felt like she could actually talk to him.  “i just— sometimes i wonder if i should’ve left sooner. or just never have come. then i wouldn’t have to deal with all of this.” 

she crossed her arms over her chest as the wind got stronger, and pulled her shirts sleeves over her hands. “it just kind of feels like i don’t belong here, no matter what i do.”

jameson was oddly silent for a moment, and slowly tore his gaze away from avery and back to the sky that was beginning to set. 

avery quickly began to worry— did she over-share? she definitely overshared, she didn’t even know jameson all that well. why was he so silent? why on earth did she—

“you’re wrong about that,” jameson finally said.

avery’s thoughts were put to a halt. “about what?”

“saying you don’t belong.” he answered, “you belong more than any of us, look at you, heiress. you’re incredibly intelligent in all aspects. in your first few days, you solved the keys faster than anyone else. the house could do with a few more complicated geniuses. ” he sent her a small grin, “maybe you belong more than you’d like to admit. 

avery shook her head and looked away, the wind whipping through her hair. “i don’t know, jameson. sure, i solved them faster, but that doesn’t mean anything, not really.” she said, “and i’m not complicated.”

jameson raised a brow.

she narrowed her eyes, “what’s that supposed to mean?

“whatever you want it to mean, heiress.” he said through a chuckle. “i’m just saying, i didn’t call you mystery girl for no reason.”

“you barely even call me that anymore.” avery said before she could even think.

jameson grinned, “why, you miss it?”

“absolutely not.” avery shook heir head, fighting a small smile. jameson didn’t say anything else as he watched her. he could sense there was something else waiting to be asked.

avery’s smile faded, and she pressed her lips together as she formulated her words. “jameson?”

“yes, heiress?”

“you always seem so sure of yourself. don’t you ever think you’re doing the wrong thing— like, making the wrong choices?”

a smile finally reappeared on jamesons face, and avery realized that she had missed seeing it. the thing is though, the smile wasn’t like his usual one, it was almost like one of those bitter ones. 

his head was tilted up with his adam’s apple on full view, “all the damn time,” he said, a slight shake of his head as he looked up at the sky. 

avery got the feeling that there was a lot more to jameson hawthorne than what she had thought originally. “and, what do you do about it?” she stayed looking at him, even when he wasn’t looking at her. 

he chuckled lowly, gaze still up at the sky.“nothing.” 

that answer didn’t surprise avery in the slightest. she hummed, “nothing at all?” 

“nothing at all, heiress.”

“nothing at all,” she nodded as she repeated quietly, as if she was tasting the words on her lips. 

he nudged her shoulder gently, that one cheshire grin finally back on his face. “you got it.” 

avery’s face broke into a small smile despite herself, and jamesons grin only widened. 

“why do you come up here so much?”

“you have a lot of questions today.”

she looked back at her lap, “sorry, i didn’t mean to—“

“don’t apologize,” he cut in. “i’d answer anything you ask.” he sent her one of those joking grins, but it didn’t feel like a joke. “to answer your question, mystery girl, its because i can see everything from up here.” 

that’s all he said, but there was more to it. he would come here to think— he always had since he was a kid. jameson was told he wasn’t as creative as his brothers, wasn’t as determined, wasn’t as talented. 

he would literally come up here to see the bigger picture— look for more possibilities, more answers, and then he could maybe find who he really was.

avery looked ahead at the landscape infront of her, her fingers playing with the torn chocolate wrapper. she hadn’t even taken a single bite.

“sometimes,” jameson continued softly, breaking the quiet, “i think this is the only place that makes sense.”

she turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “a rooftop?”

“not just any rooftop, heiress,” he said, a lazy grin tugging at his lips. “this one. and as a bonus, thisview.” he tilted his head toward her, his meaning unmistakable.

her heart stuttered, and she hated how he always managed to do that. “you’re so strange,” she muttered, but the corners of her mouth betrayed her with a smile.

he shrugged, “i try.” he said as he leant back on his hands behind him. 

avery let the silence stretch, also leaning back slightly to take in the view. 

the sky was bruised with shades of deep blue and purple now, stars faintly visible against the last streaks of orange. 

she felt the weight of jameson’s presence beside her, solid and steady, even as her thoughts spun.

but then movement caught her eye. down below, the gravel driveway lit up with headlights as a sleek black car rolled to a stop.

her chest tightened when she saw who stepped out. oren, his stance sharp and alert as always. then alisa, perfectly composed, her phone already in her hand. and finally—grayson.

he adjusted his jacket as he stepped out, his expression unreadable, the way it always was. 

he said something to alisa that avery couldn’t hear, and she watched as they moved toward the house together.

she didn’t know why, but the sight made her stomach twist. she hoped jameson didn’t see the way her shoulders tensed. 

“looks like the cavalry’s back,” jameson said casually, his voice pulling her back to the present. 

he’d noticed them too, of course.

avery and jameson shared a look. yes, he sounded casual, and he did try to put on an expression of nonchalance, but avery saw through it.

just like how he saw through her constant attempts of looking unfazed. 

avery looked away, then exhaled. “i should probably go.”

jameson didn’t move. he stayed sitting, leaning back on his hands, his gaze flicking from the driveway to her. “are you in trouble, heiress?”

“i never even know when i am,” she said, smiling already. “that shared look on alisa and oren’s is never a good sign, though.” she said as she looked down at him.

“are my reckless antics rubbing off on you?” he narrowed his eyes jokingly, tilting his head. 

“no. in your dreams.” she let out a chuckle, and jameson loved the sound. when she spoke again, her voice was quiter. 

she tried to make it sound like a joke though. “i just can’t seem to make the right choices recently. i’m always doing the wrong thing.” she admitted, “i mean, according to alisa.” 

he gave her a slight shake of his head, “it’s impossible to fully get it right with alisa. don’t lose your mind over it.” he told her, “nobody would know what to do if they were in your situation, and i highly doubt anybody could possibly handle this as well as you.” 

“i… .” she trailed off, unsure on how to respond, “yeah, alisa can be hard to please, i guess. ”  

she chose not to comment on anything else. she tried to keep her expression blank, like his words didn’t make her heart accelerate 10x faster.

jameson could tell she still wouldn’t believe the words he had said, how she was handling things, but he didn’t press the matter any longer.

“goodnight, then, heiress.” jameson gave her that lazy half-grin of his.

she hesitated for half a second, then she said “night, jameson.” 

then she turned and climbed back down the way she’d come.

when she was gone, jameson shifted to sit where she’d been, still close to the edge but not quite at it. the bar of dark chocolate lay on the ground forgotten, and he stared out at the horizon, now dotted with stars.

the rooftop felt bigger without her, quieter in a way he didn’t really like. but jameson stayed there, legs dangling over the edge, like he always did. 

jameson stared out into the sky and wondered— when had avery become not just part of the view; but part of the reason he kept looking?

tag list: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus @littlemissmentallyunstable

@anintellectualintellectual @lovethornes @maybxlle @sheisntyou @emelia07

 @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @charsoamerican @hxress23 @imaseabear 

@clarissaweasley-10 @off-to-the-r4ces @thelov3lybookworm @graysw1fe @lanterns-and-daydreams 

@hermesenthusiast @elysianwayy77 @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @apollosmusee @hijabi-desi-bookworm

@danni-1-graysons-version

[white-sinner]

Yandere mafia boss son

x male ice skater reader

Warning: threats, sex, mafia, rudely reader

☾☾☾☾☾☾ ☾☾☾☾☾☾ ☾☾☾☾☾☾ ☾☾☾☾☾☾

Alex. the son and heir of one of the leading figures in the mafia underworld enters a high school full of talented people what happens when he meets m / n the rising star of the gold medal at the ice skating world championships? Alex has achieved and will achieve everything he desires. Will he try to be a gentleman or will he be more abrupt with our dear ice skater?

yandere mafia boss: who was not at all happy to go to a school all his life and studied at home instill how he could learn the ways of drug and underworld in a normal school ?but now things have changed he knows how to defend himself with weapons and how to pretend flawlessly but still going to school will give him the opportunity to interact with "ordinary" people

yandere mafia boss son: that even though you two were in the same biology class he never noticed you until he was looking for an after school class because it was compulsory and he stumbles upon the skating rink and there he sees your figure skating with it your hair E / c moving, your uniform that matched your bright eyes. to say that he was enchanted was an understatement

yandere son mafia boss: that he feel his cheeks blush when you had finished your choreography you turned to look at him and with fox eyes you asked him

"did you like the show?"

at that moment he froze and after a few seconds he replied that you were very good and introduced himself as Alex Adonis and invent a fake job for his parents obviously he couldn't tell what job they really did so he made up that they were bank owners throughout America, China and Italy and you replied

"hmm.. interesting I'm Y/n L/n rising star of ice skating i could say it was a pleasure to meet you but I'd be lying you seem full of yourself but who knows maybe we'll see ecoters around the school bye”

yandere son of the mafia boss: that say he remained infatuated was little. not even a thank you? such an abrupt answer? no one had ever answered him so rudely before but this only made him fall in love even more. good looks, personality, talent what more could he ask for from his prince now he had a mission to make you hers be it with good manners or with bad at the top of his family he was like this. Your first love is the one that will stay by your side forever all life was like this for his father, grandfather, great grandfather it was like this for generations and it was always correct

yandere mafia boss son: that towards the evening he summons the whole family to announce that he had found his other half obviously bringing all your personal information taken with some “research” his mother and father gave him their approval saying you were admirable perfect for the family but they warning Alex that you two had to give birth to at least one heir but he could easily rent a bitch to stay pregnant and then after the baby was born he would kill her

yandere mafia boss son: who went on for months courting you by giving you your favorite flowers, jewels, he was always present in your ice skating competitions, when you fell asleep in class he would come over to cuddle you. what is this feeling you had? were you perhaps falling in love?

yandere mafia boss son: that during his confession he reveal that he is the heir of a mafia clan and if you had not accepted his proposal he would have hurt the people you care about and locked you up in his giant house. to which you replied

“okokok! but don't hurt the people I care about!!”

at which a tear fell from you

“don't cry puppy as long as you're with me and you don't try to run away everything will be fine you just remain my snow prince now sign this is later i'll take you to meet the family don't worry I've already contacted your parents you'll stay with me for the whole weekend”

and Alex let you into the limousine

 yandere mafia boss son: that after dinner he picked you up and took you to his room which was full of roses and candles. he puts you on the bed and slowly undresses you you knew very well what he was about to do and yet you didn't stop him he was crazy sick but he was your crazy

“w-wait! I'm not ready i-I can't- AAh~” “you're so tight m/n this is your first time? it's not so puppy~”

he smirked

“what's up aren't you being presumptuous anymore? Do you remember the first time you told me my prince? well I think it's time you take your punishment “

“ i'm s-sorwy aaa~ too much too much I c-ant aaaah~”

“mmh…look a bit you're already praying for forgiveness you're so delicate”

he starts to going faster than it already wasn't going

" but you know when you act like a bad boy you take the consequences puppy maybe you forgot who you have to obey"

"A-Alex aaa~ Alex "

"don't worry my name will be soon the only thing you will know”

his cock was too big for you and he liked it a lot

The reader in the morning=♿️

☾☾☾☾☾☾ ☾☾☾☾☾☾ ☾☾☾☾☾☾ ☾☾☾☾☾☾

[gingermintpepper]

Day 4: Aristaeus

Interpretation notes and trivia below the cut!!

All rise for the entrance of my president !! Honestly, of all the figures and characters that were up for debate when I first started thinking about this story and who I wanted leading the charge Aristaeus was not one of them. Originally, I'd always known that Asclepius and Orpheus would be worked in somehow - they've always been favourites of mine in terms of children of Apollo (even if Orpheus as the child of Apollo and Calliope is less popular classically) and I expected my pick for the third child of Apollo to be involved to be similarly mortal like Iamus or Tenes but the more I looked into Aristaeus the more I fell in love with him! Ultimately, he's meant to be both a foil and a reflection of his father - a boy who grows up thinking his father's footsteps would always be warm only to realise that following in them would lead to death and destruction. While his status as a rustic and hunting god is still important here, Aristaeus' interpretation is much more focused on his connection to the Etesian wind and his quelling of the dog star Sirius which is why his hair in particular is so long and spiralling. All in all, more than any other figure I've chosen to interpret and represent in my work Aristaeus is the god I hope more people get interested in and research! I think there are a lot of important stories in his various myths and travels and I definitely want more people to discover and fall in love with them as I have!

Some fun trivia:

Apollo's firstborn son. Because he was born mortal on account of his very mortal mother, Apollo immediately took him to Olympus to eat ambrosia to begin his transition into divinity. Apollo would continue to feed Aristaeus small amounts of ambrosia and nectar for the next ten years until the child fully shed his mortal skin and was reborn as a god.

Due to the nature of making mortals deathless (namely the fun part of the process where they are completely remade and lose their mortal memories) Aristaeus spent most of his early life with his mother and siblings where they all pitched in to reteach him his family, his hobbies, his favourite things and ultimately how to live and love. Aristaeus was very attached to his maternal family because of this and his early acts of ingenuity were mostly born from his wish to make things easier for his family.

Aristaeus is the only one of his children Apollo hand raised full time. In those days, Aristaeus adored his father and believed him completely upright and blameless, the true face of a benevolent deity and the kind of man he aimed to be when he was full grown.

They would later have many bitter arguments and conflicts, the first and perhaps most impactful of all being their disagreement over Actaeon, Aristaeus' firstborn son. He wanted Apollo to teach him stating that it was a normal thing for a grandfather to do but Apollo vehemently refused to have any part of Actaeon's rearing, stating that he was not his child and that it was highly inappropriate for him to educate another god's son. When Actaeon later dies, Aristaeus blames a not insignificant part of that on Apollo - something that only worsens when he learns that it was Artemis who cursed the boy and that Apollo was always aware Actaeon would die young.

Spends most of his time travelling from place to place. Doesn't really like Olympus and prefers to spend his time minding animals or tending to fields. Is on wonderful terms with Demeter and Persephone and often makes decadent exchanges of olive oil and preserved meat for exotic flowers and fruit for his bees.

Big fan of wind and percussive instruments. Never liked the kithara because of how finicky it is and far prefers the hand drums and reed flutes of his mother's country. Exceptional dancer.

Will sell prized cattle for high quality and highly unique jewellry. Doesn't much care for gemstones but is an absolute gold fiend and has a massive collection of bracelets, anklets, nose and lip adornments and rings. Has never been north enough to hit India but got a ton of rare and different adornments from his Phoenician in-laws when he was married to Autonoë.

Hates dogs but doesn't mind wolves. Not a big horse fan either

Unlike other winds, he cannot transform into various animal forms. He's close enough to the Anemoi that he keeps up with the gossip but he's only really friends with Notos. Gets along poorly with Zephyrus whose preference for pretty youths has often led to them getting into physical altercations when they were younger. Aristaeus still holds a bit of a grudge about it.

Has a big stupid crush on Dionysus which is embarrassing because Dionysus also put him out of a job. Due to Dionysus' relative youth, he feels a bit conflicted about such feelings - mostly because Dionysus is on extremely good terms with Apollo and Aristaeus doesn't want him to get burned.

Despite kinda despising his father, Aristaeus is a pretty decent eldest brother and regularly keeps in contact with a lot of his siblings. He often delivers mead, flavoured honey and olive oil and uses it as an excuse to chat and catch up. Currently in a bit of a tiff with Asclepius because he's worried about him and his family.

Favourite colour is the rich gold of purified honey, favourite food is lokma and his favourite time of year is winter.

[silent-sanctum]

HIII I LOVEEE YOUR WORKS !!! can i request jotaro x reader but where by a stand attack jotaro was now part 6 jotaro with the teen reader ? How shocked and flustered would be rrader by seeing jitaro in his 40's ! Ty!!!

hiya anon! Thank you for the kind words 🥹 Sorry it took so long for me to get your request out. It was supposed to be yesterday but then some mishaps happened and it was delayed to today. But here we are! Hope you enjoy this quick lil crack(?) fic I wrote 💌

A Mild Inconvenience- 6!Taro x Reader

word count: 2.7k

You have no idea where he went nor when he disappeared.

It was strange as it happened when you think about it again; one day, you and Jotaro were out and about investigating the area for any suspicious activity, and then out of the blue a random stranger jumped out from the shadows and made a weird proclamation of sorts about taking down the Crusaders.

It wasn’t anything surprising given he was the nth enemy Stand user they faced throughout this trip and judging by the way he presented himself, he’s also boasting a fragile ego thinking he was all that.

But an enemy was still an enemy so you and your delinquent partner had no problem beating him to a pulp. It was rather easy compared to the previous opponents they faced. His Stand wasn’t anything grand at all; just a small ratty pouch filled with sparkling purple sand.

The weird aspect of the whole situation was when the guy was about to tap out after being at the receiving end of Star Platinum’s punch barrage, only then did he decide to get a fistful of sand from his tiny bag and throw it straight at Jotaro’s face.

Some of it ended up on yours and caused you to close your eyes for a brief second, covering your face as an extra barrier, and when you opened them, you furrowed your brows at the sudden lack of both Jotaro and the knocked-out Stand user.

“What-”

You waved the remaining plume of sand away from your face as you surveyed your surroundings. Don’t tell me- You double-checked the structures surrounding you, the locals walking about, and the general weather. Nope. I’m still in Cairo. The possibility of me in an alternate universe can be crossed out now.

But that didn’t answer the prevailing question of where the fuck did those two go?

“Jotaro-ssi?” You called out to him as you headed your way somewhere. You don’t know where but anywhere will do if it helped finding him. Not that it would be hard to spot a 6’5” tall teenager among the average-height people. “I don’t know if you’re trying to get back at me for teasing you but leaving me by myself isn’t exactly the best decision, asshole.”

You kept scouting the area for any signs of him, turned corners, and explored every alleyway. And still… nothing.

This went on for what felt like 45 minutes and at this point, you sweated a lot and your thighs started to cramp. With your hands on your hips, you groaned in frustration, head tilted to the sky. “Wah, who would’ve known you’d use Mr. Joestar’s family technique against me. Foul play,” you scoffed. “I get it, alright? Just show yourself already.”

Just as you were about to call it quits and assume he just went back to the inn where the others were, something caught your eye at the corner of your vision. In the midst of a parting crowd, you could spot someone standing out from the rest. Someone with a signature ripped hat and coat.

You smirked. “You and your tall ass.”

With a confident stride, you stalked past the unbothered locals and made your way to the towering figure. However, as you neared him, it was only then you noticed the stark difference in his appearance; instead of his primarily black school uniform, he was decked in a purple-dominating outfit with gold accents all over. The design of his chain was different too, changed from the simple golden hoops to one that ended with a golden hook or anchor.

But aside from his grandfather, you knew no one else as tall as the delinquent, so you pushed forward and poked the man’s shoulder. “Hello, I believe you left something valuable back there.”

“Excuse me?”

You stepped back and gaped at the subtle difference in his voice. Not like there were any major differences. It’s still deep and gravelly, but somehow his voice was… milder for lack of a better term. As if it was polished to be more refined.

And as he turned around to look at you, you gaped at the visible changes found in your supposed 17-year-old boyfriend.

Jotaro looked older… way older than he’s supposed to. His cheekbones were more prominent, his eyes a bit sunken, gray streaks of hair lined segments of his head underneath his purple hat, and his hair was trimmed short. Not only that, it seemed that underneath his new flashier coat, he seemed to be built… a bit more. Resembling that of young, about-to-be silver foxes?

You cleared your throat and hoped the warmth in your cheeks faded as instantly as you wished. “Jotaro-ssi?”

He squinted at you, equally confused. “Y/N-ssi?”

“I don’t know if it’s just the heat starting to make me see things, but you look really different… and older.”

“Likewise. You look like your vibrant, youthful self.”

You coughed, trying not to succumb to bashful flattery from the compliment said by the gruff voice of this seemingly more mature Jotaro. “Clearly- well first off, thank you for that- but I’ll have to clarify some things.”

Jotaro tilted his head in curiosity. “I have questions to ask myself. But go on.”

“This might sound stupid but how old are you?”

“40.”

You remained silent, speechless with your brows furrowed and mouth agape as you processed what he said. “F-Forty? 4… 0?”

But he dismissed your surprise and simply asked, “What year is it today?”

“1987?”

Jotaro cursed under his breath, crossing his arms. “Figured… how the hell did this happen?” He let out a deep sigh. “Good grief, I’m too tired for this. Just as I was about to finish paperwork as well.”

“Hey Jo- err mister,” you said. “Can we talk about whatever the heck is going on somewhere that’s not in the open?”

He turned back to you and with one sweeping look around his surroundings, he nodded. “Sure.”

---

It was out of nowhere when he found himself standing in the middle of a marketplace.

Not even a minute passed and with a blink of an eye, Jotaro was no longer in his office signing documents but found himself getting pushed and shoved by a passing crowd of dark to tan-skinned locals. He recognized these buildings and streets. With a cock of his head, he said to himself, “What… Why am I here?”

Just then, someone poked his back. “Hello, I believe you left something valuable back there.”

Wait. “Excuse me?”

He turned around and he grew even more confused as he saw you- or rather, a younger you- behind him, looking up at him with an expression that mirrored his.

This was odd. The last he saw you was mere hours ago as you- a 40-year-old version of you- kissed him goodbye as you headed off to the Foundation to resume work while he stayed behind to focus on tasks related to his day job as a biologist.

But then he considered a couple of things: The buildings of Cairo, the locals, a stunned you being a teenager…

It meant one thing and as he asked you that question, you confirmed it and he was appalled. Nothing happened to him in his timeline, but it wasn’t the case for his younger self.

You offered to bring him back indoors where they could continue the discussion somewhere more private, and with nothing else giving him any solutions to his dilemma, he agreed.

Hence, here they were- sitting a couple of feet apart in a room of an inn with the rest of the Crusaders out still doing their agendas for the day. You sat on the foot of the bed while he remained leaning against the wall, finger under his chin as he tried to figure out what to do.

“Knowing you, I guess you’d rather we talk about possible solutions to your current situation?”

“It won’t be necessary,” Jotaro said. “As it always was with the others, it’s a Stand attack and it caused your Jotaro to swap with me, a future version of him. And since I’m here it means that the ability is currently active. The usual solution to this is to find the user again and tamper with his Stand to bring everything back to normal.”

“We’ll simply approach the old man or the agent currently working with him now to find the latest intel on the Stand user. That way, we can track him down faster. However, since they’re currently out wherever, we’ll simply just wait for them to arrive here and then we can ask for the important details.”

You stared at him with awe. “Woah, you’re much more knowledgeable about this whole Stand business than I thought.”

He shrugged. “Years of experience do that to you.”

“I mean yeah but it’s just wild how age can change a person because look at you!” You said as you made a sweeping gesture over his body. “Not only did you age like fine wine, but you actually grew out of your ‘tough guy’ act into this sage-like adult! Look at you openly sharing a strategy that isn’t just punching.”

Jotaro might have blushed at the ‘fine wine’ comment but pretended to not notice it and said, “I’ve always thought about strategies ever since my teenage years. It’d be dumb if the only solution to everything was a heavy punch or two.”

“I did say ‘openly’, didn’t I?” You raised a brow at him. “Let’s be honest, you did often resort to a classic Star Platinum barrage when it’s offered on the table.”

He thought back to his youth and took into account how often he resorted to simple violence as a quick solution to everything. Huh. I guess you weren’t wrong. “Well… you have a point. But let’s say it’s simply me still learning how Star worked. He did just manifest the same year as the trip.”

“You also called him an evil spirit,” you said. “Poor Star when all he did was protect you.”

Jotaro rolled his eyes and he could’ve sworn a part of his soul did the same thing in him. “I didn’t know better. Besides, he’s grown to be a reliable companion over the years. That I can acknowledge.”

Then there was a moment of silence where you just stared at him without a word. He kept silent as well, staring out the window as he waited for time to pass. “Oh by the way mister,” he glanced at you. “Is that a wedding ring snug on your finger?”

Admittedly, he never expected you to bring up that specific observation but he should’ve seen it coming when he had his arms exposed and crossed for you to eventually see. “Yeah. What about it?”

With a smug look, you interlocked your fingers under your chin and said, “Who’s the lucky person Mr. Kujo?”

Jotaro stared at you and various images of an aged version of you flashed in mind; memories of you during your wedding day, to when he accompanied you as you joined the Speedwagon Foundation, down until you brought your daughter Jolyne into the world and watched her grow into a confident woman with him by your side.

He broke his gaze with a cough and feigned casual stoicism. “I can’t disclose future events.”

Being the same perceptive individual as he knew you in the future, you smirked with a knowing look. “I see. I must say, how lucky they were to bag someone so intellectual and strong. What do you do again aside from tracking Stand users of course? I’m curious.”

“Primarily, I work as one of the leading marine biologists in the institute I’m under, but I part-time as a biology professor at a university in Florida as well.”

“Ooh~” you drawled with an impressed yet bashful smile growing behind the hand covering your pink cheeks. “Such accolades. Guess that interest of yours really took off, huh?”

Jotaro curled his lip, proud of himself for once. “It appeared so.”

“Gotta take notes for when 17-year-old you return,” you snickered. “Got any kids?”

“Perhaps.”

“How many? Girl or boy?”

“A daughter.”

You cooed, holding back a squeal of wholesome adoration. “I knew it. I figured you’d be a girl dad! I can only imagine how cute she is.” Jotaro smiled again. Jolyne was his little bundle of joy indeed. “Though if I’m gonna be honest, I thought she had siblings.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, weren’t you going at it as passionate lovers?”

Jotaro choked on his spit, caught off guard at the sudden question. “Well we are busy adults so we didn’t get many opportunities, but in the occasional moments we do, it is indeed… passionate. You did have the stamina and vigor to ravage me when you could.”

You stared at him, stunned. “What?”

He stared back, not registering what he said. “What?”

And then silence again between two staring individuals.

“Y/N! Jotaro! We’re back!”

Both you and he snapped out of the unintentional staring contest, each of them covering their embarrassed faces behind their hands as they looked anywhere but at each other. You dumbass. Why did you say that?

“W-Well,” you started. “They’re here now. I guess we start finding the guy responsible for this?”

Jotaro reeled from his minute-long foolishness and put his default stone-faced expression back on. “The sooner the better.”

---

Just as he said, beating the enemy Stand user the second time did the trick.

To start, upon seeing one of their companions aged up significantly, the Crusaders reasonably questioned both of you about what the hell was going on and you explained half of what had happened, only for Jotaro to help you out by continuing the other half of the conversation.

And you weren’t going to lie, but learning that he was able to voice out his thoughts more openly than before was both admiring and attractive. But your apparent affinity for hot older men with kids will be tackled on another day. Probably never.

After disclosing the need to locate the pocket sand Stand user, Mr. Joestar and the agent working with him were able to track his current location and the first second it was revealed, both of you wasted no time and hurried over to the man responsible.

Luckily for both of you, you didn’t have to resort to any more violence as the user- already beaten down and recovering from his injuries- complied with whatever you wanted out of him and let him hand over his magic Stand sand.

You and old man Jotaro said your goodbyes. It was nothing too special nor was it anything emotional. You were surprised to see a future version of your boyfriend, got fascinated by his progress in life, and now not only were you about to meet up with the current Jotaro and spill the news about what he was to become, you also got to bring back the adult to his timeline.

A win-win for everyone.

Little did you know just as the sand struck him again, the plumes still managed to fly onto your face and caused your eyes to shut and your brain to fuzz out momentarily.

When you opened them again, you were met with the classic punk delinquent Jotaro that you knew and love.

He coughed and waved the remaining sand cloud hovering around you and said, “What the hell was that?”

“An inconvenience that’s what,” you said. “Oh! By the way, I have something to share with you!”

“Same. You go first.”

“Alright, so…” You started with enthusiasm, only for your words to trail off as your mind ran blank. “I… uh, I don’t remember what I was about to say actually.”

Jotaro crossed his arms. “Oh really?”

“You know I don’t joke about this,” you whined. “Well, how about you go ahead and tell me about your day then, hm?”

He didn’t say anything as he looked elsewhere, eyes deep in concentration as he was trying to search for a specific memory in his brain, and after a minute or two of nothing, you smirked at him. “Well? Where’s the story time, Jotaro-ssi?”

“Fuck, I can’t recall anything.”

You chuckled. “I thought so. Serves you right for doubting me.”

“H-Hey, can I go now?”

You and Jotaro turned to the meek ex-enemy Stand user, hands up under the heavy weight of your stares. He looked at you and cocked a brow. “Your call.”

At that, you shrugged. “Sure.” You turned to the delinquent with a content smile. He, in turn, averted his gaze away from yours with faint reddened cheeks. “I already got what I need from you.”

[ultrone]

I’m up late so here are some HC’s I have of the girlies

Nat:

- You get her one of those “back off, I love my gf” shirts as a joke, expecting her to never put it on and she wears it RELIGIOUSLY. She is so proud to wear that shit

- (If you’re lucky enough to have a positive male figure, a grandfather or father in your life) one time overhears Nat talking about her home life and now that male figure is determined to make her feel safe and happy. He’ll insist that you both join him for fishing and while you’re apprehensive, Nat is 100% down.

-She never has water or lunch because she forgets/chooses to not take care of herself so you drop it off to her at practice everyday

- She sleeps with a stuffed animal but will not let ANYONE know

Shauna:

- Early riser, even when sleeping w you but she will just happily lay next to you, holding your hand, admiring you while you sleep just taking you in for a few extra moments.

- she has a scrapbook of everything you guys have done (movie tickets, Polaroids, etc), and she also keeps all the flowers you’ve ever gotten her in there after they’ve dried and withered

- She loves stargazing, she knows astronomy and can and will point out the constellations to you

- Reading to or with each other is common and probably a love language, especially reading the other to sleep

Lottie:

- Surprisingly very good at all the fine arts; she can draw well, she definitely can play the piano bc her rich parents paid for her to have lessons, etc

- Blanket stealer; she insists on having the AC CRANKED at night, then steals the blankets while you both are sleeping and you wake up with hypothermia while she’s snuggled up in all your blankets

- She wasn’t allowed to have a pet so you buy her a single goldfish once and she loves it so much, she let you name it (you named it something stupid but she still calls it what you want) it dies in like 2 days because as intelligent as she is she is incapable of taking care of another living thing and she is inconsolable for days. You got her a succulent to make her feel better

Jackie:

- Clingy (derogatory) sure it’s cute of her at first until she’s waking up at 5 am for her morning practices and wakes you up too so you both can “brush your teeth together”

- She will always ask for your old marked up books to read and she makes small notes in the margins in a different color before giving them back (She has reading glasses too, and she looks gorgeous in them)

- She asks you to help her stretch, or roll out her muscles before practice but she doesn’t need help she just wants to get you flustered and have your hands all over her

I LOVE THEM 🤭

nat would wear that shirt 24/7 istg 😭 especially as her pjs, and omg i love the idea of your male parental figure inviting nat to everything as well 🥹 even if it’s just something simple like going out for brunch, it’d make her feel way better and more welcomed. and her forgetting to bring lunch everyday is SO REAL 😭 then she’ll prolly buy a bag of chips and a soda as her first meal of the day and then complain about having a stomach ache 🙄 GIRL… also for sure, i bet her plushy is a little white bunny with long ears that was given to her as a toddler.

shauna has always given me the vibe that she wakes up at 9am idk but yeah she’d def just lay there looking at you 😭😭 and the scrapbook thing is SO TRUE, i bet she also adds entries of everything you do together 🫣 since she loves stargazing you got her one of those custom star maps of your anniversary day and she LOVED IT 🥹 and she for sure loves reading to you and hearing you read her favourite books to her

i def see lottie being good at drawing and playing the piano 😌 i also bet she’s especially good at painting landscapes and stuff like that. whenever u complain about her taking the blankets, she’ll just tell you to snuggle up to her to get warmer instead of actually sharing her blanket with you 🙄🙄 but if you’re the one stealing the blankets she’ll pout and whine for hours until you share them with her… the AUDACITY 😒 my girl came back from school on a random day and realized the goldfish wasn’t there anymore, she got concerned and asked the domestic helper what had happened, and she told her that the fish died like two weeks ago ☠️☠️ when i tell u lottie was SHOCKED… she was so embarrassed that she told you that it got a weird disease and died from natural causes LMFAOO

jackie waking you up so you can brush your teeth together is so real 😭😭 my girl doesn’t get the concept of having “alone time.” i just know it takes jackie an hour to read 3 pages, i bet she spends half of that time drawing silly little doodles all over the margins ☠️ and for sure, she also asks u to rub sunscreen on her body even though she could do it herself, she just wants to feel your touch 🫣

[quibbs126]

You do Oc x Canon child?

Well...

Can You can do a fan child of my oc Starlit Choco Cookie with Dark Choco Cookie!

[My first ever requesting a fanchild]

Sorry this took so long, but I finally got around to finishing him, this is Dusk Choco Cookie

…Okay I’m gonna be honest, I mostly finished him up because I felt I needed to keep drawing today, and he just needed his outfit finished. So in all honesty, I don’t really know/remember what his personality was. And unfortunately my old notes don’t have anything other than him being a guy

Well, I do know he’s a swordsman like his father and grandfather, and he’s the quiet sort. Despite this, he’s not really similar to them in personality, though I don’t know how to describe how he differs other than he focuses on his individuality more than anything? Like yes he’ll protect his home and people, and he enjoys doing so, but he’ll only rule out of obligation, not because it’s something he aspires to do

He’s very fond of gardens as well, and finds fireflies quite beautiful, because they’re like little living stars. I don’t really know where he’s living, whether it’s the Dark Cacao Kingdom or not, so I don’t know how often he’s realistically seeing them. Though most likely he is living there, so floral gardens are probably more of a rarity. But maybe that’s why he treasures them so

Currently he travels the world, looking to hone his skills (though thankfully not looking for any cursed objects of power)

And I think that’s about all I have for him in all honesty. Sorry, it’s really not much, especially considering the wait time (I mean it’s only been a few months, as compared to others, but you know)

Well anyways, on to design things

Dusk Choco technically isn’t named after any specific food, more like dusk and also chocolate. His mom’s name is Starlit Choco, so I figured it should be star/night themed, and Midnight Choco I had already saved for my Dark Cacao/Moonlight kid, so I ended up with Dusk Choco. Doesn’t really mean anything, but I think it sounds pretty nice regardless

I came up with the hair long ago, so I don’t really remember the process behind that. Today’s sketch work was mostly the outfit, which I sort of ended up centering on the belt and gauntlets I had already made prior

For some reason I decided to look up 500s England outfits for potential inspiration here. Not really sure why other than one of yesterday’s Transformers episodes taking place in that time period with Arthurian legend, and Starlit Choco giving me vaguely fantasy England vibes when I looked at her. I do get it’s entirely wrong to Dark Choco’s theme though

But I mean, I got some neat looking outfit ideas out of this picture, so I used it for some basis and went from there, mainly the bottom tunic and the side cloak

I also want to say I got some inspiration from this one outfit I have tucked away somewhere in my photos for Dark Cacao references, but I don’t know how much it came through

The pin for his cloak was originally supposed to be an Oreo piece like his dad, but I didn’t like how it looked, and I eventually instead changed it to be a rose like his mom

I wasn’t really sure how to do his colors other than blues, but I gave him the silver because I thought it looked good with them (also Midnight Choco was blue and gold). The pinks were originally a gold-ish color, due to me looking up pictures of dusk and seeing some yellow in there. But I thought it clashed a bit too much with the blues so I tweaked it to the pink it is now

Honestly I think I like the pink, and it and the blue cloak kind of reminds me of the Sleeping Beauty dress colors. Which I think kind of fits the vibe I was going for?

But yeah overall, I don’t think he turned out horrible. Maybe he could have been better, but I still think he turned out alright as he is now. Maybe a little too European though

But yeah, that’s Dusk Choco. I hope you at least enjoy him!

[queer-scots-geordie-dyke]

“In 1941, after a dramatic turn of events, both outside and inside the country, Croatia proclaimed independence, becoming a puppet state of the German Third Reich. The Independent State of Croatia (NDH – Nezavisna Drzava Hrvatska) was born. Almost immediately, racial laws were introduced. Fritz (my grandfather) had just come back from his travels abroad when the new law forced him to return to the town of his birth in order to register as a Jew and get a yellow star on his sleeve. His sisters who stayed in Bosnia were in hiding. Both of them had married Serbs because, even with Serbs being hated and persecuted, it was still better to be a Serb than a Jew.

“It’s still better to be a Serb than a Jew” – I would hear that same exact sentence from a Hungarian consul in London in 1993, while we were applying for a visa. The consul meant it as a joke. But my husband and I, people with no country or passport at the time, did not laugh. We could not understand how this man had managed to identify us as a Serb and a Jew respectively, although we ourselves had never mentioned those facts and our travel documents did not hold that information. Are all racists of this world connected in some unknown, mysterious way? Do they know facts about us that even we don’t know?

Fritz was torn. He had an invitation to emigrate to Israel. My mother would mourn his refusal to take that offer throughout her whole life. Why didn’t he leave? He was a fairly well-known figure in Zagreb. One of his best friends was Bozidar Adzija, a respected leftist writer and politician. A street in Zagreb bore his name until the right wing Tudjman government changed it in the nineties.

This group of young people was infected by progressive ideas about a world without nationalism and religious sectarianism. Fleeing to Israel must have seemed like giving up on those ideas. It meant seeking refuge with your own tribe and thus denouncing the idea of being a citizen of the world. At least I presume that was one of the reasons to stay. There was also the well known human habit of refusing to believe the worst could ever happen. Also, finding solace in the word of the law, even if that law seems wrong (If I obey the law, they would not hurt me, would they? The answer is: yes, they would.)

Fritz obediently returned to his town of Bijeljina and registered as a Jew. He went searching for his sisters who chased him away: he was a danger to them. They were hiding in a Serbian Orthodox church where the authorities didn’t dare to touch them. They both took their husbands’ Serbian names. They didn’t want to risk capture because of their brother. Later on, in discussions with my Jewish family in Belgrade, I would always detect an animosity towards Fritz: how dared he endanger the family? Fritz was on his own, without protection from anyone. He was immediately captured by the Bosnian pro-Nazi Muslim police and transferred to the Croatian Ustashas. And that’s how he found himself in Jasenovac concentration camp.

That beautiful, soft, elegant, educated man was now digging mud from the smelly ditch surrounding the camp, at the mercy of enthusiastic killers. It wouldn’t last long. How old was he when he died? I could never find out. He had disappeared without a trace. Branka spent the war in Zagreb, under the strict antisemitic laws, studying French and Yugoslav literature at the university. She would hide from all the horror behind books. They were saving her life. On the practical front, she started using her biological mother’s name, Savić, because – as I said before – in that time and that place it was still better to be a Serb than a Jew. But what really protected her during the Nazi years in Croatia was her adoptive mother, Ljuba.”

- Mira Furlan, Love Me More Than Anything In the World

[giorno-plays-piano]

House of Chains

Part II

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x mage!reader

Warnings: noncon, yandere, obsession, canon-typical violence, chase scenes, death of minor characters, manhandling.

Words: 1.4k

Summary: In return for help to come back to your home world, you have been faithfully supporting the Greens to put Aegon on the throne. But when your promise is fulfilled, neither Otto nor Aemond are keen on letting you go.

Part I

___________

You fly out of the room in such fit of rage the guards look somewhat bewildered at your attitude, knowing you are just some Hightower girl of no particular importance who still dared to scream at the Hand of the King. You pay them no mind, your blood boiling, hands shaking at Otto's offense when you barge into your bedchamber, tugging on your dress to take it off the moment you step inside.

Faithless, dishonorable people. You might have expected Otto's betrayal, but Aemond's quiet determination to keep you chained leaves you wordless. How could he? After all you've done for him? Does he feel no compassion for you, stranded in this cruel place and forced to do his grandfather's bidding? After all those nights spent together, you naively thought you had a connection of sorts, but it appears you are a really bad judge of character. Targaryens seek no friends, only power.

No matter. You are naive, perhaps, but not entirely stupid. There are other means to leave this world as long as there are other dragons. Not Aegon's sheep-sized Sunfire, but Caraxes, Meleys, and maybe, if you are lucky enough, even Syrax. You have much to trade.

You are so deep in your thoughts, enraged at Hightower's treatment, you realize there is someone else in your bedchamber only when Aemond nearly screams, "Do not undress with a man in the room!"

Turning to face him, the prince blushing furiously at the sight, you give him a poisonous smile, your heavily embroidered dress with stars and moons falling to your knees, leaving you in nothing but a see-through, thin robe that leaves little to imagination. Not that you care. You intend to take it off, too, and dress yourself in man's clothes before you depart to Dragonstone.

"Watch me for all I care. This is the last time you see me close," you nearly spit in his face, some sort of wicked satisfaction rising deep inside you at his loss of words, provoked by your near-nudity. Turning away from him, you grab your supplies, packed before you left for coronation, and reach for gloomy brown trousers, caked in mud.

"You can't leave," exasperated, he watches you bend over to take a crude linen shirt and blushes even more furiously, trying to stare at anything but your figure, barely hidden by the underdress. "There's much to do to ensure Rhaenyra doesn't sit on the throne."

You cackle at this, refusing to look him in the face. "And why should I be worried? What is there for me when you treat me a like a dog on a leash?"

Struggling to remember where you left the sturdy boots you wore when you needed to head to Flea Bottom, you fail to catch Aemond getting close, snatching your arm while you are raiding your own chests. You shudder and curse, furious, your eyes locked with his. What more does he want? He can't give you anything except for Vhagar's fire.

"We will wed," Aemond says, swallowing thickly, his hand so scorching hot you feel like it will burn you. "You'll be made a princess. My grandfather has already approved of our marriage, and mother will support it likewise. Even if my brother was crowned, we both know he is unfit to rule. We will do it in his stead."

You stare at him, silent, suddenly unsure you heard him right. Aemond can't be offering you to marry. What an insane sort of plan is he crafting in his head? Is it a trick to tempt you with power to have you stay? You look in the face of boy-turned-man and think there's more to it. More than you thought you knew. More to this strange, obsessive Aemond who had been hiding behind a mask of a friend.

You feel very uncomfortable being nearly naked in front of him.

"Aemond, I wouldn't take the Iron Throne even if you delivered it to me on a silver platter," you say very carefully, watching the prince's intense impression with growing worry. "I don't blame you for not knowing, but this world is a pale copy of places so much worthier, better. I don't seek to rule. I need my home. Please, help me."

"No."

Your emotions take a hand of you again, and your anxiety turns to anger with ease as you break Aemond's hold on you and spun around, finally spotting the boots among the pile of clothes. He can stay and support his stupid brother as long as he wants to, but you had enough of the Red Keep and its Targaryens. Whatever they propose in hopes to appease you, it won't work.

"Where do you plan on going?" Aemond asks you in desperation, and you snort. "I am the only one who can help you!"

In this very moment, a sudden urge arises in you: you want to hurt him. Want to make him feel helpless the way you do, to let him know he was never your only option. Even though Rhaenyra might refuse you, there still are other dragons in the world, wild, unclaimed ones included. Perhaps you'll find a way to trick them into using their breath for longer to give you enough time to cast. Regardless, Aemond is no one's savior, and you won't give him the satisfaction of thinking he's your salvation.

"I don't think so," you smile at him, all bared teeth, tongue laced with poison. "Rhaenyra will be thrilled to have me."

Aemond is rigid as if his body is turning to stone, eyes wide-open when he stares at you, wordless, and silence falls in the room.

You don't understand what you are doing, the risky game you are playing with the dragon's son. Time spent with him makes you think he isn't someone you should be wary of, but, despite your hopes, Aemond is not your friend, and his internal drive you love so much makes him a far too dangerous opponent to disregard his anger. He is no longer a boy crying on the balcony, face red and shoulders shaking. He is the One-Eyed Prince who smirked at the sight of Vaemond Velaryon being beheaded in front of him in the Great Hall; he is a man who was ready to pounce on Rhaenyra's bastards to put them in place right in the Red Keep, regardless of consequences, and he is not afraid to do what it takes to sate his ambitions.

Aemond is on you in a heartbeat.

"She won't have you," he narrows his eye at you like you are the enemy, his hands on your wrists, holding them down in iron grip, and you almost choke: Ser Christon praises his most ardent student not to flatter him. Aemond is strong, and he is not above hurting you.

Desperately, you try to push him away, but he only presses himself tighter against you, cold leather of his clothes making you shiver involuntarily as you struggle to get away. Frightened, you shout an incantation to shake him off, only a simple spell to get away, make him fall, and then... nothing happens. Nothing at all.

You have wasted too much power on the shield against Meleys. Your magic is depleted.

Aemond realizes it, too, his heated gaze turning perplexed until he fully grasps the situation, and a crooked smile blooms across his face.

"It is true about the shield, then," he muses, wrestling with you, forcing you further and further from the door, down on your lavish bed. "You spent all your magic on it."

"To save you from Meleys!" You cry, horrified, for the first time realizing Aemond will not stop, and you can't make him. "I tried to save your lives! I care about you!"

"Then stay," he breathes out in your face, driving you back to bed, pushing you so hard you finally fall with a scream, getting tangled in too many sheets and covers as you try to stand back with Aemond quickly landing on top of you. "Stay with me, and whatever you want, I'll give."

You all but cry in his face, helpless as you can't move Aemond an inch with him sitting on top of you, pushing you in the bed with all his weight, "I want to go home!"

He doesn't smile, his eye locked on you.

"I"ll be your home."

_______________

Part III

Part IV

Tags: @heavenly1927 @yazzzmints @devils-blackrose @lost-and-founds

[thisnameisnotspokenfor]

Next Chapter Snippet/Preview:

It hadn’t taken long for their surroundings to change as the surrounding scenery grew more green and the trees’ branches had grown thicker. The sounds of crickets chirping and toads croaking filled the night air as Asha gradually brought the horse’s pace to a slow, quickly glancing around for any sign of the assassins or her grandfather.

As much as she’d admittedly worried for his well-being now, she knew better than most that he would be all but upset to see her out here, blatantly disobeying his commands.

“Are we there yet?” Cepheus lazily asked, probably to break the silence more than anything else.

“Almost,” Asha whispered, before turning to the star.“Sense anything?”

His glowing eyes scanned the darkness before he shook his head.  “No, no one’s on this trail but us.” 

She let out a sigh of relief. Deep down she’d still feared the possibility of the star’s words coming to pass. But at the same time, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of responsibility at the events that had transpired as her mind filled with questions, 

“So these strange figures that you saw at the tree,” she started as the squirrel’s ears perked up. “did they do anything while there?”

The squirrel nodded, “Yeah, they did. I don’t know why they were there or what they wanted, but I just know that they poured some weird liquid on the tree’s roots,”

“Liquid?” Cepheus repeated. “Did they say what kind?”

“No, but whatever it was, I don’t think they wanted to be seen doing it. Not when it would affect the tree like it did.”

“It affected the tree?” Asha asked as she felt the pit in her stomach grow deeper. “How?”

“Yeah one second it was healthy and big, and then the next second…well…” the squirrel shivered. “They overheard us hiding in the bushes…cause of me….they chased after us and that was when...Bear got hurt…We’ve been looking for you ever since…”

“Hmm, speaking of Assassins, Asha,” came Cepheus's voice. 

“Yes?”

“You were going to tell me about them, remember?”

She nodded, swallowing a sigh. “Yes…it all started on the day you arrived. As you know the king made a deal with me, and one of his tasks led me to Banquo. I’d finished the task there and had taken the time to do other things.”

“Other things?”

“Yeah, I got roped into watching a play.”

“Was it fun?”

“Not really.” She winced, not wanting to remember the play full of anti-star propaganda. “Anyway, I ended up leaving, well sneaking off early, and needless to say I found myself somewhere I shouldn’t have been…I was going to leave when they appeared. I saw them holding wishes at first before they shattered them like…like glass! I didn’t even know wishes could be shattered and absorbed!”

“Absorbing them is a bit more common than you think, but the shattering part…” the star shook his head. “there’s only one group of stars that would have the power to do something like that..”

The Crimson Court. 

She’d seen the red crystal hanging around the woman’s neck before she’d been lost to Salcona.

It all made sense now.

She needed to tell him, about the crystals, the assassins and everything. She wanted to, but she couldn’t shake the nagging fear at his possible reaction to said news. 

What if he too wanted her to leave?

Sure she could stall her mother, and maybe buy her grandfather’s silence, but something told her that Cepheus wouldn’t be so easily convinced. Not if her safety or wish was at stake.

“Cepheus,” she began after finally settling on an answer. “Just how much do you know about those types of stars?” 

“More than you’d be comfortable with,” he answered after an uneasy silence.

“There!” the squirrel cried as he pointed to the faint outline of the rocky cliffs. 

“I don’t see him anywhere-,” Asha remarked as she squinted through the darkness.

“That’s cause he’s at the bottom. Bear and I fell down when they shot him with the arrow…”

“They really hunted a bunch of animals this far from the tree? Seriously?”

“I think it’s cause they knew about you,” the squirrel whispered. “One of ‘em called us enchanted…and asked where you were…”

“Figures…Those Assassins are a nasty piece of work,” the star coughed. “Any chance we could ride a bit closer?”

“On this terrain? Not likely.” “It looks steep too.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem,” the star smiled as she led the horse to a nearby tree. They dismounted in tandem as she quickly tied it to a nearby tree.

“Thank you for your help,” she told the horse. “We’ll be back soon.”

“Alright, so it’s down we go I guess. After we help the bear we should check on the tree. Maybe they left some type of clues behind.”

“That sounds like a plan to me!” he smiled, offering her his hand. How he could smile at a time like this was beyond her. Both assassins and possibly nobles were searching for him, and if either party found him she couldn’t imagine it ending in anything other than utter disaster.

But maybe he was just trying to keep his spirits high, it would help no one if they were to both panic.

Hesitantly she took his hand, holding her breath as he gently gathered both her and Valentino into his arms.

“Are you alright Asha? Your heart is racing,”

“I’m…I’m fine,” she grounded out, trying to ignore how strange she’d felt. Sure this hadn’t been the first time he’d held her like this, but it had been the first time she’d felt rather…self-conscious about it.

But why? She wondered. She’d seen the star practically sit a girl in his lap earlier, and he’d had no reservations against openly flirting with her then.

Holding her like this was probably nothing…it meant nothing, she tersely lamented before sighing, “Let’s just go please…”

The star nodded, his grip on her ever so slightly tightening as he leaped over the side of the cliff. 

He’d landed with a near inhumane grace at the bottom as the crowd of birds and chipmunks gathered at the bear’s side tearfully looked to him.

“You’re here!”

“I am…sorry for the tardy arrival everyone! Where’s bear?”

Quietly the animals stepped back from the wounded bear’s side as both he and Asha ventured forward. The bear was lying on his side, turned away from them as he weakly drew in one shallow breath after another. 

His fur was littered with branches and small pebbles as she caught sight of the black-colored arrow firmly embedded into his side.

A queasy feeling filled Asha’s stomach as the star’s light revealed the red that stained both the bear’s fur and the stony ground beneath him.

“Will…will he make it?” she wondered aloud as the star knelt by his side.

His brows knit together in concentration as his hands began to glow a familiar yet comforting shade of blue as he placed them on the bear’s fur.

“He will…but he definitely would’ve been in more trouble had we not arrived sooner.” He turned back to Asha. “We need to get the arrow out of him. Just in case it’s coated with some sort of poison.”

Poison. Asha gulped. That was certainly a possibility. “Do you want me to remove it? Is that even safe?”

“No and Probably not, but here,” he held up his hand as the arrow began to tremble and shake before smoothly pulling itself from the bear’s side and landing on the ground with a soft thud. One that Asha thought was a little too heavy to be coming from a regular Rosarian arrow.

All watched with bated breath as the star held a glowing hand over the now-open wound. Slowly but surely a small stream of darkened blood trickled out from the bear’s wound before the skin knitted itself back together, leaving no trace of a wound nor arrow as the bear groaned, stirring with more strength as his breaths deepened.

“Ugh, what happened?” he groaned again, his eyes cracking open as the animals cheered.

“Bear! You’re alright!” Squirrel cried as he and the other animals tackled his friend. “For a moment there I thought you were a goner!”

“Me too,” the bear confessed with a warm chuckle as he sat up and hugged his friends back. “Hey!” he cried as he caught sight of Cepheus. “We were just talking about you!”

“So I heard,” Cepheus replied, carefully examining Asha as she lit a spare match. 

“ It’s pretty ironic given how we met here to discuss what to say to you the next time we saw you,” the bear jovially continued as all the animals (excluding the owl) nodded in agreement. “It’s funny how it all ties together now…but thanks for saving my life! I owe you one!”

“You’re welcome, but I certainly don’t deserve all the credit,” Cepheus smiled before gesturing to Asha. “If it hadn’t been for Asha’s shortcuts it might’ve taken me longer to save you.”

Asha cringed as she felt all the animals stare at her with what she could only describe as shock, awe, and wonder.

“Thank you, Asha,” a bird chirped.

“Yes thank you!” The bear grinned. 

“We are deeply in our debt,” the owl cooed, before doing a sweeping bow.

“Ha…You’re welcome,” she grimaced, trying not to ignore the doubt that gnawed at her as she tightened her hold on her dress. 

It wasn’t as if she hadn’t appreciated their thanks, but a part of her had felt as if it had truly been…well, undeserved.

If she hadn’t been so fearful of him wandering alone, he could’ve gotten her just as fast on his own, his powers and the squirrel would’ve seen to that. And then there’d been the matter of the fact that on her own she wouldn’t have been able to save the bear as quickly as he did. 

A fact that she woefully admitted did nothing more than to prove the king’s advisors right.

Maybe the star was trying to be nice, but deep down, she knew better.

She knew that she hadn’t contributed much.

Valentino pleated, disrupting her thoughts as he gestured to the bloodied arrow lying on the ground a few feet away from them.

Hmm, she said they’d be looking for clues right? Well, this was probably as good a clue as any other she thought as she dug through her satchel for a spare match.

Carefully she held it over the arrow, taking in its strange curves and dark stone-like exterior. Unlike the arrow before her, Rosarian arrows were light, wooden, and straight, which could only mean one thing. This was no Rosarian arrow. So where had it come from? Better yet, why use a different type of arrow altogether? She’d remember hearing the king and prince discuss special weapons in the library, ones that the king instructed the prince to collect from abroad.

Ones that he had claimed were capable of hurting stars.

“Stars are not as impenetrable as they’d like you to believe. They have a weakness, one that doesn’t even involve magic,”  rang the king’s voice in her ears as she watched the animals playfully chat with the star.“Stars can be cut. They can bleed. They can die.”

If the assassins were looking for a star then it would only make sense that they’d armed themselves with weapons capable of hurting it.

So Could it be?

Was it possible that these arrows were one of them? 

She couldn’t lie that such reasoning had made her feel uncomfortable given how they’d already suspected that the assassins had a contact within the court, if not the castle itself, but then to have access to said weapons when the king himself had been collecting them as well…surely it was a coincidence, wasn’t it?

“You look like you want to wake up from a bad dream,” the star’s voice surprised her as she abruptly backed away from the arrow.

He wasn’t too far off from the truth. She had wished this was all a bad dream. One that when she woke up from she would be more than happy to- she yelped, nearly falling over as a sharp wail filled the air, rendering all the once cheerful animals silent. 

A sharp wail is heard

“What…what was that?” She trembled unable to still herself as the agony in the wail rang within her ears.

“People, or more specifically, your grandfather have reached the tree,” Cepheus replied, narrowing his eyes at the cliff.

 “or, what’s left of it,” the squirrel whispered as the birds shivered. 

That had been all she’d needed to hear as she’d taken off, almost digging her fingernails in the cliff’s rocky walls before she’d felt Cepheus spin her around. 

“Whoa there! Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, as she answered with a swift glance at the cliff’s upper ledge. 

“You heard that sound- that wail! Whatever made that is up there, in pain where my grandfather is! What if it’s him?! What if the assassins found them first?!” 

“Then I’d worry for the assassins-,” Cepheus replied as his brows furrowed and he released her.

“That isn’t funny Cepheus!” She snapped as she stepped back.

“Who says I was trying to be funny?” he questioned as he raised a brow.” As old as he may be, he’s still a commander in spirit, and men like those don’t usually go down without a fight.”

 “I know!” She cried. “But as tenacious as he is, you saw how he looked after Velius left.” she’d trembled, trying not to panic. “If anything happened to him or the others I’d never be able to forgive myself!”

“So you’d rather risk your own well-being instead?”

“If it means keeping them all safe,” she whispered with a nod. “My grandfather may be a controversial figure, maybe even a disliked one, but no one can deny that he has a role, a niche to fulfill here. To lose him like this would be…would be-,....” she shook her head, unable to find her voice.

“I understand,” Cepheus nodded, before gesturing to Valentino to join them as he gathered both in his arms once more before taking off towards the top of the cliff.

It hadn’t taken Asha long to find the secret path her father had shown her so long ago as she’d quickly led the star down the overgrown path. 

‘Please,’ she prayed, looking up to the darkened cloudy sky. She didn’t know who could hear her, nor if they would care, but it hadn’t deterred her from trying as she’d prayed for her grandfather, for her people, and finally for Cepheus.

Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as the passing branches seemed to blur and meld together before the end of the pathway had greeted her, leaving in it’s place the breathtaking view of the distant mountains.

“What?!” she cried, quickly looking around. She was certain she’d followed the correct path as all the landmarks had matched up, and yet she could see no sign of the proud yet hidden tree that had resided here for ages.

“What’s wrong?” Cepheus asked.

“The tree!” she cried, fervently looking around the bottom of the hill to the dark clearing below. “It’s supposed to be here! I don’t understand! Why isn’t it here?!” 

“Asha-,” Cepheus slowly started, not taking his eyes off of the clearing below. 

“What?! What is it?!” she replied. “Did you find it?! Do you see something?”

“I…I do… in fact,” he hesitated. “I don’t think you took the wrong path…but…”

 but-,”

“But what?!” she cried, as he grimaced, and turned to her. She wasn’t sure why he wasn’t answering her, but it had done little to ease her panic as she grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “If you see the tree then say something damnit!” 

“Alright,” he relented, before pointing towards the edge of the dark clearing below. “Look there,” 

Carefully her eyes followed the direction in which he’d pointed, quickly combing through every piece of darkness she could see, until it rested on a sight that brought her heart to a stop as she gasped, stumbling away from the sight.

Her mind raced as she tried to make sense of it.

The star was right. She had taken the right path. 

But nothing could’ve prepared her for the sight that lay at the end of it.

The tree, which had once been so proud and beautiful as it held the wishes of her people, her family, and their past, now lay wilted and dying at the mercy of the night’s darkness that had threatened to consume it, taking with it, not only their past but her grandfather’s final piece of closure.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d sat there staring at it as she’d felt the star shaking her, trying, clamoring for her to reply, but it didn’t matter.

Those assassins…they’d done this… They’d done this because she’d led them here. She’d led them to the last thing her family, no her village, had preserved from their past.

And now it was gone.

Just like everything else from the kingdom before.

“No…” she whispered, shaking her head. “No! No no no!” she screamed, nearly rushing forward when the star grabbed her, pulling her away from the ledge.

“Asha are you crazy?!  You can’t go down there!”

“I can’t let them get away with this!” she screamed, fighting and kicking against his grasp as her eyes burned. “That tree was the only thing my grandfather had left! I have to save it!”

“Asha if you go near that tree you won’t be saving anything,” Cepheus replied as he pulled her back. “There’s a reason why your grandfather commanded people to not get close to the tree before they left, remember?”

She’d stilled, sniffling as her mind slowly replayed her grandfather’s warning.‘Keep on the lookout for any strange activities, when we reach the tree do not approach or make contact with it at all costs!’

No wonder he hadn’t wanted her to come, he’d probably known that she would’ve endangered herself like this from the moment she’d seen the tree.

Slowly the star released her as she sank to the ground and wiped her eyes.

“This” she sobbed, helpless looking at the tree’s remains.”This is all my fault” 

“Asha,” Cepheus started gently as he knelt in front of her. “You didn’t do this. You heard what squirrel and the others said. This was done by those assassins-,”

“Who was only here because of me,” she cried, lowering her eyes. “I knew I never should’ve gone into the wish garden that night. But I only wanted to help…I really did, and now look,” she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Everyone and everything I’ve loved could be in danger because of me!”

“Asha!” Cepheus started gently, only to tense as if he’d heard something.

“Cepheus?” she asked, watching as he looked back over into the dark clearing. “Cepheus what is it?”

He was still for a moment, before quickly gesturing her to be quiet. 

“They’re coming,” he whispered, as she felt him gently tug her backward into some nearby bushes. The thorns and thickets tore at her sleeves and skirts as she briefly struggled to position herself comfortably.

But it had all come to an end as she heard the steady beating of horse hoofs draw nearer, followed by the familiar murmur of the crowd as the faint flicker of their torches came into view below.

“Are you alright Sir Sabino?” Lady Allard had asked.

“I’m fine,” he nodded, replying with a surprising amount of politeness as his eyes scanned the hill where they now hid. Her heartbeat quickened as she heard him murmur, “Just thought I heard something in the bushes.”

“Should we check it out?” Silver asked, as his hand rested on his sword and Asha saw her life flash before her eyes.

Her grandfather shook his head. “Don’t bother…” He looked at the tree, his voice cracking as he declared, “Right now we have bigger things to worry about.”

Lady Allard was the first to whisper as she dismounted her horse, “This reminds me of when I went to Banquo a while ago to convene with some other officials. One of the farmers there had been complaining about the forest animals that had started invading his property. At first he thought they were just being pests until he did his own investigation and saw that there was…some kinda disease spreading through the forest rather quickly.”

“Define quickly,” one of the older officials inquired.

“Well, he said that a few years ago it was just one small, distant corner of the forest. Nothing much for concern at first, given how…well odd these forests can be, but then it started spreading faster and faster over the years, killing almost any animal that had come within its path.” She glanced towards the tree.

“You don’t think that whatever that is has spread here, do you?” another official asked.

“I don’t know,” she confessed, glancing towards the tree. “But I do remember that he brought us to one of his diseased trees, and it looked identical to this one.”

“Great, so now we have at most what a few years before we lose our forests too?!” one of the torch holders grumbled before the people within the crowd began to murmur.

“We can’t live without our forests!”

“What if the disease makes us sick?! Is there a cure for it?!”

“What are we going to do?!” 

“Does the king know? Have you informed him yet?” someone cried as Lady Allard frowned and swiftly mounted her horse..

“People! People!” Lady Allard called, quieting the restless crowd. “I assure you that for now what we need to do is focus on fixing or rather containing this problem until we worry about the bigger things!”

“How is this not a bigger thing?!” someone in the crowd challenged as Asha knew Lady Allard was using every bit of her newfound patience to not snap.

“Fine, I will admit that this is at the least very concerning, but that doesn’t mean that we don’t have this situation under control.” 

“You do?” someone asked.

“We do!” she beamed. “In fact we’re working on a cure right now!” She quickly turned to Sabino and his friends before asking, “You do have an idea for a cure, right?”

“No,” her grandfather replied as Mr. Silver and his crew shook their head.

“What?!” she exclaimed. “What do you mean you have no idea for a cure?! Surely you must know someone…who knows someone…who also knows a person who…might have an idea of how to fix this!”

“That’s a lot of someone’s” Silver murmured before shaking his head once more.

“In their defense your ladyship,” one of the officials meekly spoke up. “This situation is completely unprecedented!”

“I know,” she groaned. “But what am I to tell the people? That I don’t know what to do?”

“We could always tell the king,” another official added softly. “Surely he could figure something out-,”

“Ha!” her grandfather scoffed, earning himself a round of glares from the officials. “As if the king knows anything about treating illness. No, if you want this fixed you’re going to have to look elsewhere and quickly…” Slowly and tentatively he dismounted his horse. Stretching and groaning as he made his way toward the edge of the tree’s now shriveled and darkened roots. “Velius said a lot of things earlier, but I suspect that there was truth to at least one of them.”

“You think the outsider did this?” Lady Allard asked as she followed him. She gestured for a servant carrying the torch to follow as he held the flame forward, illuminating the ground as she kneeled to look at the roots of the tree and the now-blackened grass before them.

“Not the outsider, but a power from the outsider’s world,” he explained, as he looked into the sky.

“Fascinating-,” Lady Allard smiled as she examined the ground.

“Hmm?” her grandfather turned his attention towards her.

“The grass just moved by itself! Like it’s reaching for something- see?!” she reached towards the ground, nearly about to touch it when-

“Don’t touch it!” he scolded as he smacked the back of her knuckles with his cane.

“Ack!” she cried, rubbing her knuckles as she stepped back. “What was that for?!”

“Strange and possibly hostile supernatural forces are at play here and your first instinct is to touch it?! Do you have any idea of what it could do to you?!”

“I…I was just curious…” she sniffled as her servants worriedly examined her hand. 

“You have some nerve!” one of the officials huffed at her grandfather who glared back. “Striking the noble hand like that! Just who do you think you are?!”

“Oh I’ll tell you who I am,” her grandfather started as he pointed his cane towards Lady Allard. “I’m the only reason why she hasn’t keeled over yet! Do you have any idea of what this…thing is or what it can do?!”

“Not anymore than you do, no,” the noble stifled answered.

“Bamonte that’s enough,” Lady Allard demanded. “Now is not the time to argue and bicker! We must find a cure for this affliction!” 

“You seem familiar with this,” one of the elderly officials spoke to her grandfather who stood there silently. Asha briefly recognized him as being the same official who’d initially sympathized with Julian in the wish gardens. “This isn’t your first encounter with this, is it?” When her grandfather  had failed to answer, he pleaded, “Please if you know anything, even if it’s not much! Tell us!”

“There’s nothing I can do about this,” her grandfather murmured as Asha felt her heart begin to sink. “There’s nothing any of us can do.”

Nothing they could do? That wasn’t right! Surely there must be something that could be done, some way to fix the corrosive power of the crimson court…

Wait!

“That’s it!” she cried as the answer hit her.

“What’s it?”

“I just figured out the cure!” she excitedly exclaimed.

[shineonyoucrazyyandere]

Hey this is a bit of a weird one to explain but could you please make headcanons on how the main jojo's (cept for jodió ) would react with a willing!reader that's really curious about their stand/hamon and one days they develop an ability that's like the main villan of their part

For example eye lasers like part 1 Dio, Kars light blades and in puccis case they get white snake not MiH

Would they freak out? Would their attitude change in anyway?

One last thing please use gender neutral pronouns, sorry for the long ask

I could do a lil something for this. I’m hoping I interpreted right.

Yandere Joestars with willing! gn! Darling who manifests a similar ability to the main villain.

Yandere! Jonathan Joestar

He’s amazed at the manifestation of your hamon, or rather how you did so. He’s so sweetly proud of you, but the worries eat away at him at the back of his mind. How you fight and Dio fight are likely different, and he considers this in the back of his head. Not that he doesn’t trust your capabilities, he’s very overprotective basically wanting to be a big buff guardian angel.

He’d want to be there right next to you to defeat Dio once and for all. Definitely he’d tell you to keep the way you utilize your hamon on a lower level. As much as he hesitates in using it often, if it can be somehow gaged from weaker rays to stronger ones at will he might sleep much better at night. But he is absolutely not leaving your side whatsoever when working on managing it. Not even going to sleep, those are his stipulations.

Yandere! Joseph Joestar

Not lying he’s awestruck at your hamon blades, a little too giddy himself. He’s still clingy and overprotective but he knows you inside and out, and what he’s seen from Kars is another level of dangerous. He informs you to attack him like you want to viciously murder him, even makes it about marrying him if he lets you continue to help. He ends up on his tip toes through your “deadly sparring”.

He’s got a goofy grin the whole time, but there’s quite a few times he makes an audible gasp. He laughs it off and tells you not to behead your future husband just yet. It’s eerily similar to kars’s fighting style but he chalks that up to you being observant and honestly probably having a great grasp at Lisa-Lisa’s teachings. He loves you making him sweat though it’s cute.

“Jojo you need to take this seriously” you whined

“sorry sorry I can’t help it ” He teases back with a shrug

He’ll absolutely make sure to remember every vulnerable spot you do mention though. That will definitely be needed

Yandere! Jotaro Kujo

Even if you’re willing, he’s still heavily overprotective over you, at least until DIO finally burns into ashes. The way you seem to manipulate what looks like time in some capacity, may just spur Jotaro into unlocking Star Platinum the world much earlier. He only allows you to show it off to him and maybe his grandfather. He’ll verbally inform Kakyoin and the others himself of the potential that DIO could have something similar to what you have (or more in particularly Jotaro himself). Any potential complexities aside of course.

Figuring out that would at the very least save Kakyoin’s life without needing a sacrifice to figure out DIO’s stand

Yandere! Josuke Higashikata (pt 4)

He’s absolutely uncertain of you facing Kira in any capacity. It brings chills to his spine, freaks him out what that man could end up doing to you. He will protect you anyway he can and makes sure to bring the rest of the group together to plan around what similarities you have with Kira’s stand. He’s there squeezing your hand the whole time when you present your stand.

Absolutely he is actually trying for once to resist the urge to call it all off out of selfishness and find a way to kill this murderer once and for all. He hates that it had to be you of all people that had to have similar characteristics to this murderer. Especially if he would desire to target you due to adjacent abilities. Once this is over he’s giving you all the kisses he possibly could, (and a several minute hug that seemingly doesn’t want to end)

Yandere! Giorno Giovanna

This is something he absolutely wants you to rely on him for. If this gives any opportunity to defeat Diavolo along with Polnareff’s assistance, he’ll take it. He probably obsesses you the most out of all times, he knows your quirks and mannerisms. Memorizing them to the tiniest flinch of an arm, your intent, everything. Of course he keeps in mind of your ability, and inwardly applies any possible discretion that could get everyone killed.

He preferably wants to keep you away from this mess, as he’s certain you would ultimately be taken advantage of and killed if Diavolo observed you thoroughly. He can’t help but brush out your hair with his finger tips, looking into your eyes, drinking up your appearance. Any little smiles you give, assures him but he makes it certain to use it analytically as well.

For now he does pepper kisses alone your neck, and cheek. Just to blow off a little stress as you all head for an eventual final battle.

Yandere! Jolyne Kujo

She’s a mess, similar to Jotaro she wants to keep what you tell her to herself. As messed up as things are with are father, she likely also needs him to help kick Pucci’s ass. The more this woman watches you use this stand, her confidence goes up they can defeat this priest before he gets out of control. Her eyes stare into yourself with intense determination, she loves you, and she will be there every step of the way. It doesn’t even matter if your stand does similar discs or it’s something similar to a vhs tape. You’ll figure everything out together, she swears by that.

Yandere! Johnny Joestar

He reacts interestingly, he looks off coldly (not at you). More so in thought of this dangerous ability. The problems that could literally arise from bringing an alternate version of someone else here. You observe him in absolute deep thought of countless issues, including losing you most of all. He can’t have that, and he refuses to have that anyway.

Even if your stand is merely dimension hopping, or sending someone away that isn’t even in this universe. Johnny ends up freezing up out of ice cold determination to kill the president in the struggle race for the corpse parts. Though careful he could end up crushing your hand on accident just out of fury. You’ll probably be asked how you get there and might be bombarded with other hypotheticals. He’s sort of expecting a lot out of you, but at the same time it’s for your protection if he’s gonna be honest.

Johnny eventually mellows out a bit by likely laying his head on your lap. Of if he’s sitting up putting his chin on your shoulder. Enjoying your warmth as he gazes into the fire at camp in thought for the journey ahead.

Part 8 Josuke Higashikata

There’s a looming dark determination coming off him when he learns of your similar ability Tooru. Of course it puts you in the line of fire, but he and Yasuho-chan are ready to figure things out along side you. The irony of his darling having similar ability to his enemy hits deep, but everyone has a lot riding on this. He likely pats your head, maybe hums that little song you like him to sing. He tells you this isn’t just for Holly but for yourself too, he’ll somehow get around these calamities no matter what.

Honestly he probably gets a big emotional and ends up crying a bit. with you having to wipe his tears, almost like a kids. He cherishes this moment of closeness even with his fears and worries.

[lacyjaybird]

@inukag-week 2k24 Day 2!

Theme: Moonlight

"Stargazing"

The crackling of the fire didn't lull Kagome to sleep like it normally did. Tonight, she was restless. After a couple of hours of trying, and failing,  she slowly extricated herself from the softly snoring Kitsune kit in her sleeping bag. Allowing the brisk early autumn night air to lead her, she decided star gazing might calm her mind. 

Between their recent extra long stint in Onodera, her grandfather falling ill, and her Algebra finals, she was exhausted and stressed. And honestly just needed to connect with herself again.  Recently she only felt like a tool for use. 

Find that jewel shard. Bury that body. Perform those rites. Ace that quiz. Visit home. Go to the store. Go to the hospital. Study those equations. Bike faster. Aim higher. Write neater…

It was all very… 

Overwhelming. 

Barefoot, she walked until the fire was still visible, but no longer able to reach her. In either warmth or light, And she sat down. 

Looking up at the millions of stars illuminating the sky along side a nearly full moon was enough to send a shiver along her arms.  Truly a sight she missed in modern times.  

“The fuck are you doin all the way out here?” 

Well there went her silence.  

She didn't even bother turning her head to the voice,  knowing exactly who it was.  

“I wanted to have some alone time. It's that too much to ask?” She huffed, a little miffed at the voices owner from his recent demand in pace and action.  

“keh” He huffed, coming to stand behind her left shoulder. She could see the rustling of his red hakama pants in the edge of her vision, stopping at feet as bare as her own. 

“You're gonna get sick, stupid. And that's the last fuckin’ thing we need.” he huffed again,  this time moving his arms in a manner she couldn't decipher before the weight of his jacket thumped onto her shoulders. 

“I'm going to be fine. And don't call me stupid!” She snapped, feeling a tightness in her throat she wasn't quite expecting. 

And neither was he, apparently, because as quickly as it exited, he was in her face. Black brows knit down between spun gold irises. 

“Please,  Inuyasha. I'm just.. I just wanted a little bit to try and rest without being a disappointment for a while, okay?” Kagome turned her face away, the exhaustion and stress coming to a head and threatening to spill over. 

“Now who called you that?” He looked dead serious, the high cheekbones highlighted from the beams as he stared. 

“In not so few words, YOU.“ She turned to face him,  now. Her bottom lip starting to quiver. 

“YOU, Inuyasha. You've been running us ragged and blaming me for every delay. I can't walk fast enough. I can't bike fast enough.  I can't get it together fast enough after helping a woman bury her child. 

I'm annoying when I ask if we are able to get to the well soon. I'm annoying when I ask to take a bath after being covered in demon guts. I'm apparently insufferable when I ask for an hour or so to study before bed every other day instead of collecting materials for camp.  

I can't DO THIS Inuyasha! I can't keep running interference every time Miroku pisses Sango off or when Shippo gets on your nerves. I can't keep babying you when Kouga gets a whiff and comes to once again ignore my boundaries. I can't be expected to bring supplies and my schoolwork all while Ji-chan is in the hospital and Sota needs someone to fix him lunches while mom goes to Kyoto. But HERE I AM.” 

The tears are flowing freely as she gestures to the field in front of her, her hand shaking. 

“STUCK about two days travel from the well. And every.  Single. Time. I even mention needing to go home when you go to lead us off somewhere else on some rabbit chase,  you snap at me!” 

she points her finger into the tip of his nose, her gaze hardening. 

“So how else am I supposed to feel Inuyasha? “ 

“First off.” He gently pushes her hand away, leaning slightly back on his heels. 

“I never called you a disappointment. You figured that for yourself. And Second off, I been bustin our asses so YOU can.. So you can go home for longer this next time.” 

his ears droop as he looks away from her,  clawed finger picking at a loose string on the end of his sleeve. 

“Cause I heard bout yer grandpa and you been really trying to do the shit in that book and you do it for so long yer eyes get bloodshot and you won't even eat when dinner is ready..” She looks back to him, listening carefully as her anger begins to subside. 

“And you wanna help every fuckin’ sad sack this half of Hatakeyama. So o'course I let ya help cause I'm a piece of shit if we don't help bury a fuckin kid. But every day you just look worse and worse and the fuck am I supposed to do when I'm trying to get you back to your time so I can just sit and wait for you to come back to me!” 

Their eyes meet and there's a moment of silence before even the darkness couldn't hide the flush that overwhelmed the hanyou's features.  

Huffing, he spun on his heel and planted his butt firmly in the grass beside her,  looking to the left, away from her.  

“You were trying to help me.” she said,  quietly. 

“I've been putting so much on myself and you've been trying to help me get home quickly.. but I just thought you were criticizing me.” 

Fresh tears welled as she buried her face in her knees, the exhaustion and stress finally winning the war on her heart. 

“Hey! Hey.. c'mon. Don't cry over me. You've done much worse than assume shit about me. This don't mean a fuckin thing.” 

He waves his hands, trying to get her attention.. but settling on pulling her into his side. 

There,  he let her cry until soft sniffles came few and further between. 

“Inuyasha?” The smallest voice asked, looking down,  he noticed her pink nose peering over the neck of his now snot covered jacket, muted in the moons glow. 

“hnn?”  he hummed, gazing down at her toes barely poking or from under the red expanse. 

“Thank you. But in the future… can you just tell me you're trying to be nice?” 

“keh. You act like I ain't always nice. Like right now.  Cause I'm taking yer ass to bed.” 

She gave no fuss as he stood,  picking her up as he went,  and carried her to the low fire. 

Gently,  he laid her in her still open sleeping bag, fingers brushing her bangs as her eyes fluttered shut. 

“Go to sleep,  Kagome.”

The rest of the night was spent watching over his friends,  the moon his only company as her beams and his gaze meeting more often than not on the mess of inky black hair belonging to the woman he cared more for than his own need for a few hours of rest.

[trashietroll]

Title: Lamb Chops

Word Count: 5.4k

Characters: Hybrid(Sheep)!Reader x Ransom Drysdale

Warnings: Bullying, Sexual Harassment, Noncon( to come )

( Do not interact with this blog if you are under the age of eighteen(18) or find taboo and dark subjects triggering. All hate messages will be deleted. Read responsibly. )

AN: Happy Friday everyone! This is my debut back into fanfic so be gentle(but constructive criticism is always welcome). Big, big thanks to Sydney(@buck-star) for being so helpful every step of the way, and being patient with me; go show her work some love! Thank you to @stevesbestgirll as well, for giving me their thoughts! See you at the bottom friends ❤

“It’s time for you to start pulling your own weight around here.”

A small wooden box was passed from one hand to his other, his attention far more focused on the ornate puzzle than the older man. At a quick glance it might have appeared like he knew the solution, which cubes slid where, and how each angle clicked into place. However, if you were familiar with him, you would know the slight furrow at his brow betrayed his confusion.

“Hugh, are you listening to me?”

The use of his first name, and lesser preferred title, pulled Ransom from his fiddling. Harlan couldn’t help but feel a little smug, watching Ransom toss the bauble back on his desk with an irritated huff; his grandson was clever, but peevish. Loafers, far too expensive for someone living off another person’s money, found their home crisscrossed on the edge of Harlan’s desk; having learned long ago that one must choose their battles with Ransom to avoid an unnecessary headache, the older man decided to move past it. “I pull my weight.” “Golfing with potential retailers, and agents is hardly pulling your weight– even then you are rarely interested unless the person of interest is of, shall I say, a feminine disposition.” An imperious curl turned the edge of Ransom’s mouth, Harlan’s hardened gaze had him quickly correcting it. 

He shrugged, “My business tactics work best with that sort of audience.” “Business tactics is not what I’d call whatever it is that you do.” “Regardless of what you would call it, it works. An agreement is always made before we even reach the ninth hole, is that not enough to please you?” “You’re very right, Ransom, and that’s exactly why you should be more involved with the company; because you do have what it takes to be successful. You’re just too focused on your exorbitant watches and–,” Harlan waves flippantly towards his grandson’s attire “– the thread count of your sweaters.” The blond in question clenched his jaw, shifting his feet to bounce impatiently on the floor. He was quickly getting tired of the old man. Harlan leaned back in his seat with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as he thought for a moment. “I’m getting too old to be continuously traveling into the city like this– not that my health has ever concerned you. Before long I will be permanently moving to the estate, and at that point what little involvement I will continue to have with Blood Like Wine will be conducted from there. I wish for you to take over my operations here when that happens.” “Lucky me. Unfortunately I’ll have to decline your offer, coerce Meg into taking up residence in this stuffy office; in fact, I bet she’d love the smell of your lingering geriatric aroma. Probably call the place vintage,” Ransom mimicked the pitch of his cousin’s voice. “Meg is pursuing her own dreams, and so far, appears to be doing it very successfully. You, however, I refuse to let suckle from my metaphorical teat forever without any personal advancement.” He wrinkled his nose at Harlan’s choice of words, his grandfather never passed up an opportunity to infantilize him. Before he had a chance to voice another ignoble remark, there was a soft knock at the door. As if Harlan knew he wasn’t going to say anything of importance, he allowed the person entrance. Ransom’s eyebrows curved with interest as the figure walked into view, the smell of clean linens and fresh rain tickling his nose. 

♫ And then you come home to me?

    And don’t say hello ‘cause I got high again

    And forgot to fold my clothes

    ‘Cause I’m too messy and then I’m too fucking clean

    You told me get a job then you ask where the hell I’ve been

    I’m too perfect ‘til I open my big mouth–

“ – I want to be me, is that not allowed!” An angry horn interrupted the melodious trance you had slipped into, your foot following a little too heavy on the gas pedal as you sped through the green light. You waved apologetically to the car behind you, knowing that your off tune singing wasn’t worth holding up traffic for. 

Much to the relief of the other driver, you soon turned into the parking lot of your work, Blood like Wine publishing. It was a fine job, wonderful even; your duties had less to do with the intricacies of how publishing worked and more to do with assisting the founder, a kind man by the name of Harlan Thrombey. He treated you as an equal, even though you were merely his assistant, and never once behaved as if you were a lesser being due to your genetics. Your pay was just as good as someone who wasn’t sporting a tail and ears, he was always understanding of when you needed to call out, and you got one of the parking spots right in front of the building, which was a godsend on chilly mornings like today. 

To your unfortunate surprise, you went to pull into your designated area only to find a car already occupying it. What the heck… you muttered. Feeling rather crestfallen, you pulled off in search of an empty slot somewhere else.

It had taken a little more than ten minutes for you to realize finding a space in the company's car park was a lost cause, without any better option, you were forced to use the parking deck a block away and brave the cold as you shuffled to work. Your hat and scarf were removed upon arriving at the desk donning your name plate; the floppy ears at the crown of your head shook, removing the snow that had stuck to the soft fur, docked tail following in suit. “My, my, not Ms. Punctual being three minutes late.” You turned to find the temp and receptionist, Marcus and Leah, approaching with coffee and impish grins. A pleasant work relationship was shared between you and the majority of your coworkers, but you found yourself spending most of your free time speaking to these two. The pair’s rascally behaviors made it hard not to be drawn to them.

The latter handed you a cup of hot coffee, steam whipping around the mug as you gingerly blew on it. “Someone had taken my spot, I ended up having to park a block away and pay for parking.” 

Your two companions shared a knowing look before Leah spoke, “I have a feeling I know exactly who the parking thief is.”

“Oh? Do share, I’d rather say something to them myself rather than make a big deal of it to Mr. Thrombey.”

“I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.” You gave Leah a quizzical look as you chanced a sip of your drink. “Lucky for you Harlan, adores his little assistant so I doubt you’ll be getting any slaps on the wrist this morning. God, I wish Angelea would give me the slack Harlan gives you.”

“Not disagreeing with you that Angelea can be a total hardass, but she does have to oversee a lot of people, it makes sense she wants to keep a tight ship.” 

“Said like a true worker bee,” Marcus joked. “We shouldn’t keep you though, Harlan’s grandson is here and I’m sure the old guy would be happy if you came to give him a little bit of a reprieve from the brat.”

You had never personally met Ransom Drysdale, but you had heard enough to know that you didn’t want to meet him. Apparently he was conceited, rude, and all around a vile person; everything you hated in an individual. As much as you didn’t wish to insert yourself in a meeting between him and his grandfather, it was about time you began attending to your duties as Harlan’s assistant. 

You flipped through the papers on your desk, setting aside the things that would need to be overseen by the Thrombey patriarch and which ones could be handled by you alone. Marcus continued to gossip as you set down your coffee and tucked a stack of papers beneath your arm. “I’ve heard that we might be seeing more of him around the place, Harlan seems to be cracking down on him a bit more; guess he’s getting tired of his unfounded superiority complex.”

“And by ‘what you’ve heard’, you mean what you’ve gathered while eavesdropping?” Leah raised an accusatory eyebrow. 

Marcus raised his hands to convey a false innocence. “Hey, people have to get their information from someone around here, and our most prime source of gossip refuses to pitch in,” the male jerked his thumb in your direction.

Clipping a pen to the neckline of your top, you raise your eyes to give him an unconcerned look. “Because I have better things to do than fueling rumors, just like I have stuff to get done right now, same as I’m sure both of you do.” With a wave of your hand you shooed them off, turning to approach Harlan’s office. Nervously flatting your ears, you knock when you hear a quiet lull in the conversation inside. 

Harlan’s gentle but confident voice ushered you inside. The male sitting across from him immediately had you feeling timid, he exuded an air of pomposity that left you avoiding eye contact. His hair was combed neatly to match his clean shaven appearance, Ransom’s looks fit perfectly to the rumors that went around about him; self centered and snotty.

“Speaking of suckling on teats, when did you start allowing farm animals into the office?” Distaste painted his words, but Ransom’s face held an expression of mild amusement and interest. “Have you accidentally wandered away from your trough?” You couldn’t help but wrinkle your brow at the insult.

“Quiet Ransom,” Harlan snapped, his face softening when he looked at you. “Ignore my inane grandson, darling. I was wondering when I’d get to see you, lord knows I’d prefer your company to his.”

“I’m sorry, sir; I had to walk from the parking deck this morning, or I would have been here sooner.”

“No need for apologies, what kept you from your usual spot?”

You hesitated, you had no intention of getting anyone in trouble, but Harlan was not the type of person to berate someone over a parking error. “Um, someone had parked there, I’m sure it was a simple mistake. Appeared to be an old BMW, nothing too fancy or recognizable I suppose.”

Before Ransom could even begin to speak, Harlan adopted a delighted smirk from your words. “That is more than an old BMW, it’s a BMW CSi, it’s a piece of art on wheels. That car cost more than your home, closet, and probably your entire existence, little cow,” He snapped viciously. 

You were left a little stunned by the sharpness of his voice and words; hybrids were not extremely uncommon among the world, and discrimination among them was certainly a real thing, but you had never experienced someone speak so illy towards you so many times in the space of three minutes. It was shocking, and the only thing you could think of saying at that moment was a soft, “With all due respect, sir, I’m a sheep. Not a cow.” 

Harlan quickly came to your rescue, “Not everyone has an obsession with materialistic things like you do, Ransom, and if you say one more thing that disrespects the biology of my assistant I will withhold next month's allowance.”

An eye roll was the only response Harlan received, you took that as your chance to give your boss the documents in your hands and quickly leave. “Here is the manuscript acquisition for the Greer novel, I will have copies sent down to records and sales. This is the report from our advertising team about updated marketing trends and…” 

Ransom watched as you quickly and efficiently went through the papers in your dainty hands, a slight tremble as you shuffled from paper to paper; he was proud to accept the honor of making you nervous, his grandfather rarely intimidated anyone but his own children, and seemed to harbour a soft spot for the little hybrid. His eyes traced the velvety lines of your ears, and the slight blush that lined your cheeks and the bridge of your nose(he wondered if that was related to your species, or just a cute feature of yours). From his position he caught a glimpse of the small tail that sat just above the curve of your ass, flicking mindlessly as you spoke to Harlan; Ransom had welcomed hybrids into his bed in the past, but never one of the sheep variety, lecherous thoughts crowded his mind of the noises you might make in the throes of passion. 

You had finished your spiel swiftly, eager to be out of the tense room. “I’ll leave you to it, sir, and I’ll get on the phone with someone at The Boston Globe asap to discuss our advertising agreements, and the pitches you presented at your last meeting. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“That’ll be all, thank you, y/n.”

“Yes, sir. It was… nice meeting you, Mr. Drysdale,” You hesitated, giving him an awkward half bow that had you cringing as you fled the room.

Ransom tilted his head, watching you go out of the corner of his eye. Leaning his chin on the palm of his hand, his index finger stroked his lower lip in contemplation, silently watching his grandfather examine the newly acquired forms.

“I’ll be in no sooner than twelve tomorrow, and be leaving no later than four. Someone better have lunch for me upon arrival.”

♫ You told me get a job then you ask where the hell I've been

    And I'm too perfect 'til I open my big mouth

    I want to be me, is that not allowed?

    And I'm too clever—

“ – and then I’m too fuc— AHH!” Nearly hitting a man with your car, namely Ransom Drysdale, was not how you expected to end your lunch. You mentally thanked your breaks, despite them being fairly subpar, for saving your job and a potential broken bone for Ransom. As shaken as you were, the man in question barely gave you a glance as he proceeded into the building; it was clear that this was Ransom’s world and we’re all just living in it. Pulling into your spot you turn off the radio and tug on your lengthy ears with a groan. You had somehow managed to forget that Harlan mentioned that Ransom would be in today, and the following days. After the interaction you had to endure yesterday you were very unwilling to subject yourself to his company again. With a pout, you gathered your things and made your way inside, tail lacking its usual happy wag.

Leah was absent from the front desk but as you continued on to your own you came across Marcus, who immediately stopped mid step and gave you a look of pity. Without skipping a beat, you jumped into telling him about the close call that happened minutes prior. “Y/n, y/n– not that I’m uninterested in what you have to say, but you should probably get to your desk. Ransom’s there and he’s looking very impatient.”

Your brows furrowed, “What? W-why?”

“I don’t know, but I have to go, he’s sent me to go get him food from some restaurant I’ve never even heard of. I wish you all the luck though, if anyone can put up with him it’s you… or Harlan.” Marcus began to rush off, before he made it far he pivoted on his heel and scurried back. “I almost forgot, Harlan told me to tell you not to let Ransom push you around– alright, knock ‘im dead.”  Before you could ask why Harlan couldn’t tell you himself, your friend had disappeared in a breeze of muttering. 

Very reluctantly, you rounded the corner to find, who was quickly becoming, your least favorite person. He was sitting pretty in your chair, eyeing a happy family picture you had next to your computer. A happy portrait of siblings and parents was probably rare among the Thrombeys. Noticing your presence, he swiveled to look at you, “As if almost hitting me in the parking lot wasn’t enough, you’ve decided to make me wait too? So far I’m finding it hard to believe you're one of Harlan’s star employees.”

Your ears slump, your hands going to wring each other nervously. “I’m so sorry, sir, I wasn’t aware you’d be waiting for me. A-are you looking for Harlan? I can see where he’s at, let him know you’re here–”

“No, I’m here to see you, chops. You’re supposed to show me what it is that Harlan does here so I can take over. I'll be shadowing you today so rejoice, this will be the only time you’ll ever get to tell me what to do.” He stood up, perching his coat on the back of your chair, where yours typically went. 

“I-I’m sure there’s someone more qualified to show you the ropes. I’m just Harlan’s assistant, I don’t actually do anything that he does, I just… assist him,” You explain hopelessly.

Ransom quirks his eyebrow, his eyes darkening with a lewd amusement. “And soon you’ll be assisting me, chops– hell, you might even enjoy it.” You cowered a little at his words, a worried blat lodged in your chest. Ransom continued, “You're with the old man all day everyday, who better to teach me the ins and outs of what he does? So if you’re done arguing, put your crap down and let's get started.”

“Yes, sir,” you sighed, keeping the trepidation off your face as you tucked your things away.

Despite Blood like Wine being a fairly small operation, there was a lot to it, and it was overwhelming to even decide where to begin showing Ransom how things worked. You were rather perplexed when he had remained quiet as you began to show him around the building. Nodding his head in response to your various instructions and explanations, and seemingly paying attention to the steps that went into publishing. You were beginning to wonder if working with Ransom would actually be so bad when things began going downhill. 

You hadn’t noticed his taunting at first, assuming he had a genuine concern of where he could find each and every basic office supply he could think of: thumbtacks, post-it notes, markers, coffee filters(as if he’d ever be making coffee at the office), paper, paperclips, tape, more tape… He had you go into detail on what the bathroom and break room cleaning schedule was, then asked you to repeat both because he hadn’t heard the first time. 

Fifteen minutes was spent in the conference room so he could decide which chair was the comfiest, and stated that going forward no one was to sit in it but him.

His teasing was taken even further after the two of you were forced close together in a crowded elevator; upon seeing how uncomfortable the nearness of him made you, he gave you very little personal space thereafter. 

The two of you had been leaning over a desk, peering at some recently acquired rough drafts, when he had taken it as a prime opportunity to stand so close at your back that you could feel the heat of him. You had to cease the wiggling of your tail once it became apparent that it would be stroking at his crotch; you had a feeling he realized this when he asked ‘So this can quit its twitching?’ with a little flick at the appendage. That interaction had your face red with embarrassment for quite some time after.  

The journey through the building had finally brought you to the design department, and the last part of your tour. “The author of each book gives the final okay for each novel’s design, and the advertisement blueprints, but nothing is ever moved to the printing house without Harlan looking at it first. It is his company after all, he wants whatever is produced to properly reflect the business aesthetics, business model, and quality that is promised with the Blood like Wine logo. In my opinion, this is one of the more entertaining… Mr. Drysdale?” Turning to speak directly to him you were faced with an empty space. As much as you would have liked to turn back around, pretend like you hadn’t noticed his absence and just continue on without him, you were far too good at your job to abandon your duty.

Meandering around various cubicles and tables lined with artwork you soon found the handsome, as begrudging as you were to admit it, man leaned against a table with a suave grin directed. A blushing brunette meeting his gaze avidly. Closing your eyes you took a deep, controlled breath, and let it out through your nose; your ears must have been tense because they immediately relaxed against your head. 

“Mr. Drysdale.” You spoke firmly, startled and impressed by the confidence in your voice. Don’t let Ransom push you around. The way he slowly looked up at you, grin falling and blue eyes menacingly trained on you, made you regret the reprimanding tone you had used– but you were so close to being done with this silly, pointless task, you needed to stand your ground in order to just get it over with. 

He approached you, no mirth now etched into his face like it had been all day, only a dry, unimpressed veneer over his features. He slowly opened his mouth to say something, but you beat him to the punch before you could lose your courage. A little lamb threatening the big bad wolf. “I fear you’re not taking this as seriously as you should be. Mr. Thrombey has–”

“Mr. Thrombey is my grandfather and–”

“ – and he has tasked me with preparing you to take over his position and educate you on the job. You might not realize the importance of what is being asked of you, but I do and I understand the consequences should I not do as I’m asked and help you. So please bear with me a little longer, Mr. Drysdale. I am almost done with my monotonous droning and then, I promise, there will be plenty of time to flirt with the workers after.” 

The words came out fast and hard, because you feared if they didn’t then they’d get stuck in your throat and you might just choke on them. Ransom looked stunned, anger slowly coloring his iris’, but stunned nonetheless. He stepped closer, chest almost brushing yours and his head craned down due to his height over you, he sucked in a breath in preparation for whatever scathing remark he was about to unleash on you. It was then he noticed the eyes of the surrounding department glued to the two of you, a mismatched duo at odds with each other. He froze, taking in his surroundings before looking back at you, the chilling smile that turned his lips made your heart palpitate. There was no kindness in the curve of it, only a promise for revenge. Taking a step back, he allowed the breath you had been holding to leave you, and with a dramatic wave of his arm, he motioned for you to lead the way. 

Things went smoothly from there, you suppose. Ransom caused no more problems for you, and you were quickly done with everything. It was unclear if he was actually listening to you, or just humoring you, and despite your show of concern in the design department, you didn’t care. You began to make your way back to your desk, Ransom coming with you only to retrieve his jacket, then leaving your side with a sharp ‘I’m leaving. Tell Harlan I’ll contact him.’

The heavy weight you had been unknowingly carrying all day melted away, you fell into your chair with a sigh and sudden urge to burst into exhausted tears. Did Ransom have that effect on everyone, or just you?

“Okay, I finally found Clunny, had to speed walk ten blocks because traffic was at a standstill and that was the closest the Uber could get. Got there and was told the head chef, who Ransom specifically asked for, had the day off. Had to call him, he agreed if I brought the ingredients to him he’d fix the meal with an extra fee. Don’t ask me how I got all the stuff he needed there, and I still wasn’t able to– where’s Ransom?” Marcus breathed, face glistening with a thin sheen of sweat and a large paper bag in hand. You lazily rolled your head to look at him, his face falling upon not seeing his soon-to-be boss. “y/n, where is Ransom?”

At least you weren’t the only person whose time got wasted by Hugh Ransom Drysdale.

You hummed passively to the morning radio the rest of the week and into the following one, the music just didn’t rev you up like it had the previous mornings. Blond hair and pretty white teeth haunted your mind, and kept you unable to sleep. Ransom had made himself fairly scarce, but he still managed to find time to torment you. You had been sent on a wild goose chase one morning to find a specific coffee bean that after a lengthy day of looking, you found out couldn’t be purchased in the entire state. He would leave trash on your desk to dispose of, purposely not using the many trash cans around the building. He would repeatedly use your parking spot, when you both knew he was now aware it was your designated slot.

However, he never once ordered you around in person, always sending someone else to carry the message; you were thankful you were spared any direct contact with him. Ransom was still around the building, you would see him every now and then, occasionally catch him staring pensively at you. 

If this was just a taste of what working with Ransom was like, you weren’t sure how long you would last, not without Harlan around to provide a buffer. Harlan had become absent, here some days and gone the others, even when he was in the building he never stayed a full day. Ransom had made himself somewhat comfortable in his grandfather’s office, but occupied other areas of the building, rather than the room next to your desk. You feared when and how Ransom would decide to end his avoidance of you. 

Thursday, two weeks after nearly hitting Drysdale with your car, Harlan had called you into his office. He was smiling as you sat down, but it wasn’t a comforting expression, it looked… sad.

“Dear, I have some news that might be considered bad. Maybe the opposite to others,” He joked lightly. “I’m sure you’ve noticed my truancy of late so I feel I need to explain myself to you. My health has rapidly been declining, and though I’ve never really enjoyed the city, being here now is precisely the opposite of what I need.”

“I… What can I do to help you, Mr. Thrombey.”

“Unfortunately, this isn’t a course that can be changed, even with the help of others.”

You were quiet a moment, looking down as you picked anxiously at your thumb. “I wish you had said something sooner.”

 “I didn’t want to make you worry, I think you worry too much as it is.”

“What are you going to do? Take time off?” Even as you asked the questions, you knew what the answer was going to be, but didn’t want to hear it.

“I will be selling the place I have in the city, and moving to my country estate. It’s peaceful there, makes it easy to disassociate after dealing with my spoiled children and their offspring,” He chuckled, folding his wrinkled hands. “Ransom will be officially taking over operations here, there will still be some things he will need my approval for, but he will be occupying my office from here on out.”

It was hard to keep your face from falling. Even if it wasn’t Ransom taking up Harlan’s seat, you would have still been upset. Harlan had always treated you so kindly, he was hands down the best boss you’ve ever had. He wasn’t your blood family, but he certainly felt like it.

“Please don’t look so dejected, darling. You will still have your job despite my own passing to another, and should it interest you, I’d love to have you come visit the estate. I think you’d quite like it. Especially in the Fall.” You squirmed a little, what could you say? It’s not like you could make him stay, and even if you could, it wouldn’t be right. Harlan needed to look out for his health, he would want you to do the same. Things were so pleasant in the office with Harlan heading the ship, you knew your job would sour with Ransom coming in, but would the rest of the employees suffer too?

“I’ll miss you, Harlan.”

His smile deepened, the use of his first name making his eyes twinkle. “I’ll miss you too, dear.”

The phone on his desk pierced the somber feeling in the room, chirping loudly as it called for attention. Your boss, or rather ex boss, excused himself as he picked it up, effectively ending the moment. 

Trudging to the break room with droopy ears, you felt like you were walking in a haze. Realistically, you had known this moment was coming, but somewhere in your mind you began to believe it never would. You poured yourself a cup of lukewarm coffee, the taste wasn’t really what you were after anyways, it was unlikely you were even going to drink the rindy mixture. You needed something to busy your hands as a distraction, there was no point trying to do any work, nothing would get done with the mood you were now in. 

You suddenly felt a sharp pull on your tail, a started bleat escaping you as your hand goes to soothe the assaulted extremity. The attacker leaned onto the counter beside you, a pleased smirk on his face; it was a mystery how you hadn’t smelled Ransom’s overpriced cologne when he walked in.

“What an amusing sound, hopefully I’ll get to hear it more during my time here.” All you could do was frown at him, his tone comedic as if the joke was something you would want to join in on. You didn’t respond as you went back to dumping sugar in your unappetizing drink, Ransom apparently took this as an invitation to keep talking. “I think I might have had one of your siblings for dinner last night, chops, paired quite well with red wine.” He paused, scooting closer so you had no other choice but to acknowledge him. “I wondered if you’d taste just as good, what do you think? Would you be tender and juicy, little lamb?” You don’t know what, out of everything he said, made you feel sickest. His voice had dropped low, like he was sharing a secret with you but instead of making you feel thrilled it only made you feel slimy. 

You turned your face away from him, hiding the growl that curled your lips and puffed the fur of your tail and ears. “Do you want something, Ransom?”

“I don’t remember giving you permission to call me that, and I much prefer hearing something more respectful coming from your mouth.” He grew irritated when you continued to not meet his eyes, grabbing your upper arm he roughly turned you to face him. “As your new boss I’ll let it slide as a show of good faith, do it again and I won’t be so forgiving. Same goes for the stunt you pulled down in the design department.” Your skin crawled under the sinister look he wore, the snake-like smile he had given you that day coming to the forefront of your mind. “I’ll leave you to your shitty coffee, little lamb.” He let go of you with a shove, sauntering out of the room; you could feel the searing print of his hand on your arm for the rest of the day.

AN: I hope you enjoyed, this is my first time writing Ransom and I was a wee bit nervous, so if you have any critiques or advice on how I can write him in the future let me know. Part two is already underway in my drafts!

[tina-aumont]

Cordoba questions the figure of the day: TERESA MONTEZ

The sister of the famous American film star Maria Montez has arrived in Madrid. Teresa is coming to Spain to make her first film. The film is called "El Andén" and will be directed by Eduardo Manzanos. After a long telephone conversation, I find her at the studio of the photographer Ibáñez. Teresa Montez impresses with her beauty and her figure.

Where were you born?

In Santo Domingo.

You are of Spanish descent, right?

Yes. My father was born in Santa Cruz de Tenerife, and my grandfather in Teruel.

Did you know Spain?

No.

Where did you live?

In Paris.

Was your sister as pretty as you?

More.

Is that possible?

I don't think I'm very pretty.

Very pretty, how do you think you are?

If I could do me again, I would be different.

Did your sister's name help you to succeed?

Yes, but I don't want to use it now as publicity. That's why I'll be advertising myself in the movies with my real name.

Your name?

Teresa Gracia.

Why did your sister called herself Montez?

The film producers gave it to her.

What did you admire most about your sister?

She had one of the few good hearts I've ever known. She behaved very well.

With whom?

With family.

A lot of family.

Parents and nine siblings and more. She was attentive to even the smallest details.

Did she gave you a lot of money?

No, not a lot.

Have you earned any money yet?

Not in the movies, but as a model, yes.

Oh, are you a model?

Yes.

Is it harder to be a model than a movie star?

It was very hard for me to start my modeling career. I didn't know anything, and although there are schools for this in Paris, I wasn't interested, because you can't get the essentials there.

What is it?

Having a very stylized figure, a face that suits you, elegance… and knowing how to face the public, no shyness.

You're not intimidated by anything?

As they say at home, I have a lot of drive.

And what else?

Many things, some good and some bad.

One bad.

A devilish character.

When did you show that character?

Look, each model has a collection of suits made to measure. One of my last collections, when it was almost finished, I realized that because it was too ordinary, I wasn't going to be a good fit; I protested and the owner had to order me a new collection. Is this character?

Now a good thing…

My husband says he hopes that one day I will show off my good character.

Are you the boss?

No, but my husband is less violent than me.

When did you get married?

Last February.

What does your husband do?

He works in the textile industry. He represents American machines.

What is your husband like?

Handsome and elegant.

And jealous?

Yes, but I don't make him suffer.

Did you cause much havoc among men?

I am not the type to make victims. If they fall in love, fine; but I am not the type to provoke.

What famous men did you meet?

I met Pinay in a province in France, where they were giving him a banquet.

Did he flirt with you?

He told me that I was very pretty, and I replied that I admired him very much, and he replied that I was very kind, but that he did not believe it.

Madam, did you ask to make your film debut in Spain or did they look for you?

I was asked.

By who?

The producers of this film saw me "modeling" in a French magazine and started the negotiations for the contract.

Is it worth it?

Yes.

How much does a model earn in Paris?

It depends on who it is.

You.

Forty thousand francs a month, a percentage of sales and some free collections.

You have a very stocked wardrobe, do you?

Yes, but almost everything is a gift from my hubby.

That's why he's in the textile business…

From Spanish newspaper Pueblo, 2nd December 1952.

Biblioteca Virtual de Prensa Histórica.