#she’s so cool (she has many crimes to her name)

[whipedcream]

more of the whiteboard doodles i did last night

[hana-bobo-finch]

i am one day late to my own character’s birthday but whatever better late than never. this image popped up in my head last night and I felt obligated to make it

for context Tornado is the name of the only social networking site on fincg island and C.C. is. very into the occult and would definitely think this is a halfway decent thing to do (it is not)

og

[rowretro]

𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕝𝕠𝕪𝕒𝕝𝕥𝕪

𝙔𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍𝙀 𝙍𝙄𝙆𝙄 𝙒𝙃𝙀𝙉 𝙐 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙆 𝙃𝙀'𝙎 𝘾𝙃𝙀𝘼𝙏𝙄𝙉𝙂

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ 𓆩♡𓆪 ☽⋆˚｡⋆˚.

✰warnings: yandere themes, kissing, making out ish, a lot of fluff after they makeup<3

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Why would y/n care if the man who hurt her, kidnapped her, forced her to live with him in his home to go see other women? she hates him after all doesn't she? she wishes she does, but she just can't. He's so sweet to her despite the fact he abducted her purely because he loves her, he stopped his obsessive killing of men who even look in her direction, and now he even trusts her enough to leave, just the bedroom door unlocked. He literally killed for her, of course he'd die for her.

Y/n hates that she thinks he'd do such a thing, she received a picture from a friend on her snap, of Riki walking alongside another woman. They looked so close... she was flirtatious with him, arm around his shoulders, and he smiled at her. The woman being someone she loathed, a bitch who has beaten many girls almost to death, and tried to use y/ns personal life against her. Basically a bitch. To say she was mad was an understatement. The man who abducted her, killed for her, and treated her like a princess, forcing her to be his is with another fucking woman?!

She flinched a little as the door suddenly shut, interrupting her out of her thoughts. "baby im home~" he called. Y/n glared at the wall, waiting for him to enter the bedroom. "Why didn't you come to the door pretty girl?" he asked as Y/n frowned. "Am i pretty girl? or is she?!" y/n asked, as Riki sat opposite her on their bed. "who exactly is her?" he asked, a little confused "the side-chick that had her grubby hands all over you. im sorry, you drag me here claiming that you love me, killed a classmate that confessed to me, and used his many crimes as an excuse, only for you to cheat with a basic bitch who does nothing but whores around spending mommy's money and using daddy's name to defend her crimes?!" she lets out, clearly upset.

However riki just smiled, his eyes staring at her endearingly "my sweetheart is jealous~" he cooed as he tried to reach for her, mad y/n slapped his hands away. "ok ok cool cool... that bitch has been getting on my nerves lately... she filmed you getting dressed so I had to play the part to show her her place... don't worry I haven't killed her... yet..." he smirks, turning on the news. There she was, the girl's photo, somewhat blurred, being exposed for her many offences that she coverred up. "As for the video, deleted forever..." he added as y/n just sat there, unsure of what to do.

A few hours of silence pass, Riki was watching TV, as y/n finished up a few tiny chores. Seeing him, she heaved a quiet sigh, and slipped in the seat beside him. "Im cold" she said staring at him as he looked her up and down "Of course you are, it's autumn and you're wearing a thin-strapped croptop- and the material of those jeans are way too thin." he complained as Y/n frowned. "I said Im cold!" she whined as Riki snickerred. "you have to pay me first." he said as she bit her lip.

She leaned in, catching his soft, plush, perfect lips in a loving kiss, his arms wrapping around her waist, as they let their tongues collide, one of his hands rested at her head, as she placed her arms around his shoulders, deepening the kiss as much as she could. As she pulls away, she leaves a few soft kisses down his jawline to his neck, and sinks into his warm embrace. "Dont you dare cheat on me... I'll cry." She mumbled as she snuggled against him. "God you must think im insane if im ever willing enough to cheat on you. do you know how long ive waited for you?!" Riki asked.

He unzipped his hoodie, wrapping it around her a little, as he yanked a soft blanket to wrap around them "What do you wanna watch?" he asked "I know i've watched it a lot but... Let's watch so not worth it and order some nice food hmm?" Y/n suggests as he kisses her nose "Anything for you my lifeline~" he smiled, pulling out his phone to order food.

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a/n: yeah i don't even know about this... hope u enjoyed it tho<3

[infimace-blog]

Thinking about rap as a technical artform and rap as a cultural artform, with respect to Tumblr's incompetence at dealing with either. Tumblr can just barely grasp the former because, like all forms of Black music, it's been repackaged in various ways that are more palatable to to white audiences. I talked last month about how what Tumblr was calling rap while trying to defend its taste in music is more akin to filk songs, but I should admit, sometimes Tumblr cites people who actually rap. It doesn't fix the problem or absolve them of their bullshit, but it is true.

The failure then becomes an inability to recognize or care about how rap functions culturally.

People on Tumblr will take Dungeon Meshi and intricately pick apart how a single chapter connects back to real-world neurodivergence issues and the cultural differences between the West and the East when it comes to handling them, and then look at any given rap song and assume it's skin-deep. Unless it's Hamilton back in the late 2010s, before we all decided it was cringe, in which case they'll gladly dig into the history of the early USA and, like the play itself, sidestep the racism whenever possible.

Take Weird Al, one of the many names that's been thrown around in Kendrick and Drake's wake. Weird Al is technically a rapper. He has done rap. We cannot ignore that as a factual statement. He's not even that bad as a rapper. But he has no engagement with rap as a cultural object; he engages with the artform as a parodist. "Amish Paradise", probably Weird Al's most popular rap parody, doesn't say anything; it's here to riff on a religious minority. But you dig into it just a little and you can see the kind of complexity that Tumblr usually loves to talk about. The song is, after all, a parody of Coolio's Grammy-winning "Gangster's Paradise", which is literally about being a black man in an environment dominated by organized crime and fearing the constant threat of death in that life, but was also created specifically for the movie Dangerous Minds, a middling white savior movie about Michelle Pfeiffer teaching a bunch of bad stereotypes of what people think inner city non-white students are. A movie that was, in turn, based on a white woman's memoirs about teaching in a bad school near San Francisco. You've got this interplay between a white woman's real-life efforts to teach her black and Latino students (I can't speak to how effective she was, mind you), a fictionalized version of that same woman being shown as the sole guiding light for her underdeveloped gangbanging students - and a white actress's crappy Kipling-ass 5/10 film getting Coolio his Grammy. It was tailor-made to be Coolio's big hit with white audiences, getting the push of Michelle Pfeiffer, having slow and deliberate rapping, and lacking the swearing in most of Coolio's oeuvre (Stevie Wonder mandated no swearing in return for letting Coolio sample his music). And, though I suspect this was unintentional, the song plays into the same narrative that the movie does, how this rapper is doomed to his life because "nobody's there to teach [him]", with dramatic choir and strings underscoring the dire fate that awaits this rapper if some charitable white person doesn't help him - the same dramatic choir and strings that Weird Al uses for comedic effect by comparing it to Amish farmwork.

I put that last paragraph together with two or three hours of Wikipedia, and you can do the same kind of analysis with a lot of hit rap songs (and Genius is right there if you need a helping hand - I wouldn't have understood much of Kendrick's Euphoria without it), and I think this drives a lot of my frustration? Tumblr loves to see something cool and then take a few days to write an in-depth post about how cool it is under the surface. So the lack of this when it comes to rap does show a deep disinterest in thinking about it when it isn't fun. And there's so much cool shit to learn about rap. Did you know that Baby Got Back was inspired by the anti-black fatphobia Sir Mixalot's model girlfriend was dealing with in her industry, and was pushing back against the media's general preference for skinny white women? Did you know that there's a Turkish hip-hop scene specifically in Germany because, as a minority that was brought to the country for cheap labor and then forced to exist as second-class citizens, they ended up relating a lot to the music? Just. Dig a bit. There's so much.

[cinnamonbear22]

Baby (choi su-bong x reader)

Chapter one

PLEASE READ⇊⇊⇊

I just wanted to explain a little and write some disclaimers! This story is set way before squid game happens. reader and other characters are of age. I am adding my own tweaks to his character which may not be cannon accurate. This story contains heavy topics, i am not responsible for the media you consume. It contains abuse, drugs, violence, sexual content, fem reader. I appreciate all types of feedback :) I am planning on makin this a series, I already have multiple chapters written !!

Tw- drugs, abuse, fem!reader

-

The cool wind hastily nipped at (Y/n)s cheeks as she walked against the breeze, shivers being sent up at down her entire body despite being warmly dressed. The large hand-me-down jeans scraped against the damp concrete as her black hood was drawn over her cold head. Hair was constantly blowing out of place but her hands were to busy being jammed in the pockets of her brothers old tan canvas jacket that was visibly worn-out, gripping the wad of cash anxiously as while striding down the street.

She kept her head down in effort of keeping her cheeks warm while looking up occasionally to see how much farther she have to go. Not many people were out considering it was a Tuesday night and most people had to work early in the morning, as well as students having school.  The streets were mostly empty besides the occasional drunk man stumbling around and the drug addicts pestering on the side of the road asking for money.

It wasn't the best part of town for a young woman to be walking through this late at night but she didn't have a choice. When her brother needs her, he needs her. The consequences were never worth the pain and time so if she had to go at a ridiculous hour at night she did.

The familiar landmark of a green, rusted, bronze dog statue appeared in her view which was her remembrance point that it was the first alleyway directly after the piece they would meet. She had been in the same alleyway a countless amount of times that it didn't even bother her much anymore walking straight down into it. Well, she was afraid of it, but she had learned to tolerate it.

The wind now was blocked by the two buildings that left limited space on either side of her. She could finally comfortably open her eyes and pick her head in surveillance of the familiar place. The setting never, ever changes. The bricks on both walls of the buildings are graffitied beyond belief. Although it was barely visible in the night due to the dim flashing lights that hung onto the side of the building. It was littered with leaves, overgrown weeds peaking through the cracked concrete, broken glass and aluminum cans. Occasionally a load of dirty needles would appear from time to time.

She wasn't the type of person to get bothered by absolutely anything but the amount of suffocation that she felt every time she entered this alleyway is overwhelming. The constant feeling of a looming threat gnawed at her nerves that heightened her awareness of her surroundings. She was a smart girl, she knew how to protect herself and is quite frankly very good at carrying herself, but she didn’t have a choice. She has been trapped into her brothers business as a drug-courier and money collector since the young age of eight-years-old. No one would expect an innocent little girl committing degenerate crimes, right?

He was one of the most popular drug lord in all of Korea that had multiple high connections to powerful people. Police have been trying to investigate for over a decade, but the execution of the business was extremely well thought out so there was no room for error. For obvious reasons she was never allowed to use her name in public places, resulting in the lazily thought-out nickname 'Baby' since she had been the youngest in the business. She hadn't heard anyone say her real name in years. She was never allowed to go to public school, but her brother made sure to educate her all throughout her adolescence. Before she had gotten her own place, she was never allowed out of her brothers home. She was constantly monitored. She wasn’t allowed to make cell phone calls, she was only allowed to answer. Her phone got went through every single night despite being a crappy flip phone that barely functioned.

And yet, the most familiar part of this entire alleyway was leaned up against the moist brick walls with a cherried cigarette between his snide lips. "Baby," Su-bongs blowen out eyes darted quickly to her lifeless pupils. Her emotionless face stared up at him quietly as his slender fingers pulled the cigarette out of his mouth. "You're late." his overly expressing eyebrows raised in a mocking fashion as he looked at the girl.

She stayed silent for a moment while instantly remembering the countless number of times he has left her waiting in this alleyway for several, several hours. "Barely." She mumbled quietly keeping her eyes on his that would twitch from time to time. He would always excuse his twitching from a “muscle spasm condition” but she knew better. She had been around substance abuse her entire life. "Three minutes behind." She knew she didn't have to defend herself to him but she wasn't afraid to prove a point.

"You're never late, I thought something happened to you," he clasped his hands over his chest with mumbled words since he was still supporting the cigarette in his lips. The fake concern didn't amuse her at all, her stone-cold face remained emotionless as he felt like she was piercing an icy spear through his chest and into his soul with her tired eyes. "So, big brother send you out here this late? Hm?" He slowly began to push himself off the wall, fixing his slouched shoulders and cracking his neck to fix his tall, slender posture, but (y/n) didn't budge. She had never really felt threatened by him knowing that he was a little afraid of her brother and if anything had happened to his most loyal employee, he would not be happy.

She blankly stared at him in response to the question that he already knew the answer to. He chuckled deeply at his own joke and slowly began to move a bit closer to her. Her eyes narrowed on him, analyzing every movement so she could anticipate what his next move was. She knew how impulsive he was with his thoughts and how he is possibly insane even though they both never had personal problems with each other. But one wrong move at the wrong time, that could all change.

She averted her gaze to her dirty white sneakers as he inched closer to her in the claustrophobic alley leaving her nowhere to create a safe distance. He strived off of the small movements that she would rarely express, her drained eyes darting to the ground as he approached her almost set him on fire. The way her breathing visibly hitched in the freezing air as he bent his body down eyelevel with her made him smirk. "When will you stop being a puppet?" He whispered softly through his clenched teeth and sleazily reached behind her head and yanked her thick black hood off that offered limited protection from the cold. Thick cigeratte smoke left his lips and straight into her face which only irritated her. She could never recall a moment that his joking gestures amused her, yet he continues to display them after the last six years of knowing each other.

Her eyes snapped back up at his with strong pensiveness once the cold air pricked at her ears and neck, her fighting instincts were quickly alerted with how close he was getting to her which resulted in her quickly pulling her hands out of her pockets and shoving him off. "Stop being a douche." Her eyebrows furrowed together out of anger as he barely felt the force of her push. His feet shuffled back against the broken glass and concrete as he chuckled to himself with slight adoration for the small angry expression on her face. "Come on," she was practically shooting daggers through his head as she stared hard at him. "It's late and cold. I want to go," Her tone was sharp and demanding yet she was so softly spoken that the rustling of the wind was louder than her. Her stray hairs blew messily in the breeze before she stuffed her hands back in her pocket gripping the wad of cash with frustration.

"Still don't have a car?" He expressively tilted his head to the side like a confused dog as he smashed his cigarette against the brick. She gracefully shook her head no and pressed her lips together impatiently. "You had to walk?" His upper lip twitched then he tilted his head to the other side. His twitching was normal to (y/n) at this point that she hardly noticed it at this point.  "Let me give you a ride back to your brothers" he nodded his head towards the left of him indicating his car was parked somewhere around the alley.

"Are you fucking nuts?" Her harsh tone surprised him a bit as he threw his hands up in the air for quick defense. He knew better than that and she knows he does. All of the stupid questions he asks her are all things he already knows, but it's in his nature to pester her. "Stop asking questions you know the answer to."

"Okay, okay," he curled his lip, shaking his head slightly. "I was just trying to nice. I just want you to get home safe, you're very important to me." Although his tone was a bit sarcastic he genuinely did care for her. After doing business with her for years, he's grown very fond of their small relationship that's been built from the brief interactions.

"Cut the shit," she did not reciprocate his friendly playfulness, she never did. There was never a reason for her to be friendly, or playful. That was what her brother drilled into her head anyway.

"You know, I've known you for a very long time," He started one of his spiels that only made her roll her eyes. Even in the bad lighting he could still see the flash of whites of her eyes as she huffed. "And you've never been pleasant to me once."

"Business isn't supposed to be pleasant." She quickly retorted and silently prayed that this interaction would speed up but commerce with him always took the longest.

"You wouldn't have to even do this if you weren't so easily pushed around." His blown-out pupils mocked her as she swallowed hard but she didnt let his words even get to her. She knew she was a pushover; she didn't need to hear it from someone else.

"Just give me the bag." She snapped; her volume was a little louder than usual which made his brows shoot up with surprise.

"Alright," he dropped his shoulders in a defeated manner, turning on his heels slowly as he started walking towards the black backpack that was slouched against the wall. (Y/n) looked side to side checking her surroundings before pulling out the roll of bills in her clutched palm as she watched his every move. He never screwed her over once during their business, but she still would stay on high alert when the money and products were out. His eyes immediately darted to the fistful of cash which he grinned deviously.

They swapped items without any word. (Y/n) quickly unzipped the bag and shuffled around the items making sure everything was present. He had held the money tight in his hands as he began flipping through the several large bills. His head was already racing with the freedom and privilege this money provide even if it was for a temporary amount of time. She slung the bag over her shoulder weaving her arms through the straps and she pulled her hood back over her head. She gave him a brief nod instead of properly saying goodbye and without his response she was already walking in the opposite direction.

"Jesus Christ..." she whispered to herself quietly while keeping her head down on the gravel being kicked up under her feet. She reached one of her hands up to her chest pocket, removing the crumbled carton of slim menthol cigarettes from her jacket. She brought the box up to her lips, grabbing a singular cigarette with her mouth before shoving the box back. Then subconsciously she moved her hand down to her front right pocket of her pants where she had always kept her lighter.

Major disappointment filled her body as two of her fingers poked directly through the fresh hole that was ripped into her jeans. She had completely forgot that she got caught on a jagged fence during the walk, but she didn't know she lost her lighter. "Goddamnit..." she groaned, patting herself down like an officer would in a manner while praying that she maybe just misplaced it.

She didn't need it, she thought to herself as the unlit cigarette still lingered between her cracked lips. But the temporary relief that she would feel was needed.

she hesitantly looked over her shoulder to see if Subong was still around, and luckily, he hadn't gone too far. He had his back to her as he walked away with his head hung low and his arms were sporadically dancing to an imaginary beat that was playing through his head. She was scolding herself heavily for what she was about to do, she knew that he would get a kick out of her and drag their interaction out even longer than intended. But it was a long walk home. "Subong!" Her loud voice echoed against the brick walls and pinged angelically in his cold ears. He spun around so quickly that he had almost stumbled over his own feet as (Y/n) was already walking towards him.

He felt his ears burn against the cold air while his stomach was slowly dropping to feet. "Everything is in the bag!" He quickly defended himself since he had already jumped to the conclusion of why she's walking back to him. His hands slightly trembled at the strange anxious feelings running through him that was only enhanced from being intoxicated.

"I know," she murmured cooly as she looked up at him with the cigarette moving between her lips. "Can I borrow a light, please?" her expressionless eyes filled him right up before he exhaled gently not even realizing he was holding his breath. He began to laugh softly at himself; his tense posture quickly became lax.

"Hm," he hummed like he was truly pondering her simple question while tapping his chin and looking up at the dark cloudy sky. His black pupils then narrowed down at the shorter girl in front of him as his rough hands reached into his back pocket, pulling out a black lighter that was engulfed in a chrome case with skulls and crosses engraved in the metal. "How bad do you really need it?" His wiggling eyebrows playfully ridiculed her before she gently sighed. Of course, everything had to be a game to him. But she wasn't the person to play those games, she deals with enough bullshit that she did need more unnecessary convivences.

"Not enough." She pursed her lips in a bothered manner and turned her back to him to restart her journey back to her brother's home. His smile quickly dropped from his face as she started walking away and he scolded himself for a second. He knew she hated his jokes, his teasing, his demeanor, their interactions. He knew she hated him, but he still felt oddly enchanted by her and screwing up a moment like this is only adding more tension.

"Fine, fine" He swiftly placed his hand on her shoulder before she got too far out of reach. She paused under his touch, but he quickly retracted his hand off her knowing that could result regrettably. She spun back around slowly with the cigarette still loosely hanging from her plush lips, her tedious eyes lifted up to his that gazed at him with the slightest look of vulnerability. A look he's never seen. His lip quivered for a moment as he flicked his lighter with his thumb holding the small flame down to her mouth as she inhaled harmoniously. The small light illuminated her face for a moment as he watched her with reverence. He took notice of her sad, sunken eyes that were complimented with scarlet eyebags and the small scar that was engraved above her eyebrow. Her lips that wrapped around the cigarette were still an alluring shade of pink despite being cracked and dry, as well as a few small bruises down her neck that had the shape of fingerprints. The flame extinguished from the small devices as she exhaled with shut eyes to peacefully enjoy the buzz of the first hit. "What do you say?" He grinned down at her with slight amusement at her relief.

"Thank you." She opened her eyes and looked at him softly which he was shocked he had gotten a positive response of gratitude.

"Here," He reached his hand out that held the decorated lighter between his slender fingers to her. "Take it, for the way back." She looked at the lighter hesitantly while her eyes darted up from him, to the lighter, and the back to him. "Go ahead, here." He shoved the lighter closer to her as she glared up at him. She took her hand out of her pocket and grabbed it from him, her freezing fingertips gently grazed against his own before she slid the lighter in her coat pocket.

"What's the catch?" She felt overly skeptical, squeezing the metal in her pockets harshly.

"There isn't one." He confusedly tilted his head at the question as he took notice of how quick her soft energy changed into guarding.

"Then why did you give this to me? What do I need to do in return?" Her jaw clenched tightly as she slowly began stepping back away from him with flickering eyes.

"Nothing?" He cocked a brow at her hastiness then furrowing them together confusedly. "It's a gift, from me to you." He held his hands up to show her he physically was harmless. "Have you ever received a gift before?" He harshly spat since he was taking great offense to this interaction. He doesn't understand why she is so defensive now and why she thinks he'd hurt her when he's never done anything to hurt her.

(Y/n) swallowed harshly, her throat was beginning to feel slightly dry from embarrassment. She never was given something without an expectation for something in return, ever. "Goodnight." She quickly turned around and walked fast out the alley as Subong stood there in a shocked manner, watching her disappear around the corner.

He was drawn to her. It was the consistency of her pushing him away that attracted him. She was a complete mystery to him, and he wanted nothing more than to peer into her life.

…

Chapter two

[hvaneyflowers]

Christmas Vacation! *********************

Pierre Gasly x femreader!

You and Pierre go on your first Christmas vacation together, but unexpectedly, you lose Pierre in the city.

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, f1wags, charles_leclerc, and 30.000 more.

tagged: pierregasly

yourusername: London at Christmas is just magical!

view all 100 comments.

username1: favorite couple in my favorite city!

username5: you look so cute together! please, never break up!

username3: would you take Pierre to your hometown?

username12: SO CUTE!!!!

username9: I need a photo of Pierre and y/n at Buckingham Palace ASAP!

username4: I swear, you're the cutest couple in the whole world!

username6: YES!! MY PARENTS!!!

pierregasly: love you!❤️

yourusername: love you, too! ❤️

username90: Power couple!

username7: best couple!

username8: love you!!!

username29: beautiful as always!

liked by pierregasly

pierregasly

liked by lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, and 500.000 more.

tagged: yourusername

pierregasly: Have you seen this woman? She's short and has brown long hair. Also, she responds to the name y/n, and she can be a little angry. I lost her at the city's market... but I found this cool friend!😎

view all 400 comments.

username1: Not Pierre posting on Instagram but answering y/n's texts!

username8: he's a dead man.

username2: Not Pierre taking a photo with Lewi's wax figure and y/n freaking out 'cause she can't find him😂

username4: that's why they're the best couple!

lewishamilton: not tag?

lewishamilton: 🧍‍♂️

username3: LEWIS COMMENTING!!

username5: yep, Pierre's dead. Lewis and y/n will kill him.

username10: 'not tag?' - lewis hamilton.

username71: Pierre committed a crime. He must pay for it.

yourusername: PIERRE GASLY!!! I WILL KILL YOU!!!

username8: what have I said? He's dead. username6: 100% confirm. username34: Pierre, run! pierregasly: 🙀🏃

liked by yourusername

************************************************************************

"PIERRE GASLY, I WILL KILL YOU!" you screamed while opening the door of your hotel room.

You were angry at Pierre and Lord, he will be dead. You both were shopping at the city's market when you got distracted for only one second, and Pierre disappeared. You searched and searched for almost two hours, but you didn't find him. You also sent him texts and called him many times but without a response. You were so pissed off. This is beyond a joke! You were desperately looking for him, and he was in the wax museum taking photos with Lewis! You'll kill him without a doubt.

"Honey... how are you?" he asked with a nervous smile.

"I hate you!" you told him, falling on the bed.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't want this to happen, but while you were distracted by that salesman, I got distracted too by a baby goat," he explained, sitting by your side.

"A goat?" you asked him.

"Yes. It was the cutest goat I've ever seen. Look, I took a photo," he said happily while showing you the photo.

"I can't believe it. I freaked out because you got distracted by a goat?" you said in disbelief.

"It was a cute goat!" he tried to defend himself.

"Alright. It was a cute goat," you rolled your eyes. "But, why didn't you answer my texts and calls? Do you have any idea of how worried I was? I almost have a heart attack!"

He gave you a little smile and hugged you. You relaxed in his arms and started exhaling his smell. Thank God for putting him in your way. You loved him more than anything in the world.

"I'm so sorry, mon amour, but my cell phone died after my photos in the wax museum. I know I should've called or texted you, but I was so happy to see everything that I completely forgot about you. I'm so sorry, it won't happen again. It's a promise." he kissed your forehead.

"I forget you, baby. I love you, too. I was so scared to lose you." you said rubbing your nose against his cheek.

"Let me make up to you. We'll have fun tonight," he gave you one of his smiles that tells you you won't sleep.

"Merry Christmas, lover of goats!" you laughed while pulling him near your body.

"Merry Christmas, my future killer." he kissed you.

[little-pondhead]

[inspired roughly by this post. My brain snails started going nuts so I thought it'd be easier to post this separately :)]

…

It was a lovely day in Gotham. Well, as lovely as it could be. The sun was up, peeking through the overhead cloud cover and making the buildings gleam in the rare sunlight. The air was fresher than usual, and faucets ran clear of strange and unusual toxins.

Somewhere in the Upper East Side, in a little neighborhood tucked away from the rest of the city, marched around the new boss of the area. She was a young girl, just barely in high school. But despite it being the middle of a work day, she wandered around her chosen streets, content to do whatever she wanted. Above her, a pair of siblings watched on and discussed the unique situation.

"So let me get this straight: that fourteen-year-old goth girl is a crime boss?"

Mia smiled at Leon, her older brother, and his dumbfounded expression as they rested on her balcony. "She's fifteen, actually. Her birthday just passed. We all got together and threw a block party for her!"

"You know how insane that sounds, right?" Leon turned to her, a bit miffed that she dared to say those words to his face. "She's a kid. Why do you all listen to her?"

Mia shrugged and sipped her beer. "She does good work. Holds her own pretty well, and the kid has connections. Good ones, too. That can be the difference between life and death in Gotham."

Leon rubbed his forehead in frustration. "I just don't get it. How did she end up in this line of work? Do child labor laws even apply here?? Why aren't the Bats doing anything?"

"Don't think about it too much, dipshit." Mia crushed her now-empty beer can in her hand and tucked it into a paper garbage bag hanging off of a hook on the balcony rail. A familiar set of green arrows was printed on the side.

"And now you're recycling?!" Leon realized. "When did you start doing that, Mia??"

The woman shrugged and got up, stretching. "Probably around the time Brambles absolutely reamed out Mrs. Zalinski for littering at the park."

"Wait, who's Brambles?" Leon scrambled upright and followed his sister inside.

Mia laughed. "Brambles is our fifteen-year-old crime boss!"

...

"I can't believe you got a cool name right off the bat," Danny grumbled, flopping onto Sam's bed face-first. Sam smirked and shoved him off with her foot. Danny just squawked and let himself ragdoll to the ground.

"It's your fault for not having a better gimmick." She said to his prone body. "Besides, it could've been worse."

"I think Inviso-Bill is the worst possible nickname for anyone." Danny groaned. "But you got something cool immediately. Who even thought up 'Brambles'? That's such a unique name!"

"Well the kids call you Grim; that's pretty cool."

Danny flopped over, twisting himself much farther than any human was supposed to just so he could glare at her face. "They only call me that cause one of the is obsessed with Harry Potter." He grumbled, pouting.

Sam just rolled her eyes and went back to sorting through piles of papers scattered all across her duvet. Since moving to Gotham several months ago, Sam had taken it upon herself to turn the experience into something useful rather than just moping all the time, as she originally wanted to. That 'something useful' had landed her as the newest crime boss in Gotham, with about a third of the Upper East Side as her current territory.

So many problems had popped up in the last year, and the group had decided that taking it on alone would never work. The GIW had been trying to close Amity's borders, Danny's parents had a scientific breakthrough, tensions in the Realms were high, etc. There was a lot on their plate! Sam's solution was to create a foothold in Gotham City. She would lay the foundations for Jazz to work in Arkham and forge a safer environment for the residents of Amity Park to sneak off to if the GIW went too far. She was essentially weaving a cushion for everyone to fall back on.

Danny, using the power of duplication, was splitting his focus between foiling his parent's plans and resolving issues with his rouges to create a united front. He was the main distraction, and Sam's own heavy hitter when she needed help establishing dominance.

Tucker planned to gather intel with the help of Technus and Jazz. They were trying to gather as much evidence as possible so they'd be in the clear when the whistle blew. The GIW would crash and burn, legally speaking. They were the bugs of the operation, spreading themselves thin and hoarding information like it was candy.

Dani was their wild card, their jester. She was keeping the JLD's attention focused solely on her and all the supernatural hijinks she was stirring up. When the time was right, she'd point them in the direction needed and let them loose. After winding them up so much, the hope was that the Justice League Dark would descend upon the GIW like hellfire.

But those were their future plans. Right now, Sam was in possession of specific files from Arkham Asylum and the GCPD. She was looking for anything to give her an edge in the upcoming meeting with a few other crime bosses. Some annual thing they host to renew Goonion contracts, see who's still alive, and examine how much the territory lines have changed. Stuff like that. Red Hood was supposed to be there, and she knew she needed an ironclad defense against him and his nosy colony of Bats.

Danny untwisted himself all of a sudden, making a weird face. "Sorry, got to go." He apologized. "Vlad just showed up to my house."

Sam waved him off. "Go, I'll be fine for today. Just be on time for the meeting on Friday. And I want you, not a double."

"You got it!" Danny did finger guns at her and promptly melted into a pile of green goo. Right on her bedroom floor!

Sam sighed and got up to throw a towel over the puddle. The ectoplasm would evaporate eventually, returning to the original Danny little by little. But for now, this would keep anyone from asking about it until it was all gone.

Sometimes she really hated living in student dorms. People always felt the need to burst into her room for no reason.

Who even made dorm rooms for high schoolers in the first place??

...

Jason couldn't help but stare at the new recruit.

Well, 'new recruit' wasn't exactly accurate. 'Potential to be the most headache-inducing supervillain' was more like it. Standing at a solid 5'10" with platform boots, Brambles, the newest crime lord who had taken over half of the Upper East Side in under four months, was almost tall enough to look him in the eye straight on. Which she tried to do anyways, tilting her chin up oh-so-slightly (in that stupid way aristocrats do when they want to look down at you) and glaring at him with open hostility.

Brambles was young, way too young to be in this line of business. At the start of the annual underground crime meeting (yes, they couldn't come up with a better name), she had announced that she was fifteen, went by she/her, and would snap the dick off of anyone who looked at her funny. Most everyone laughed at her, thinking it was an empty threat. Brambles proved it wasn't by sucker-punching a younger lieutenant who tried to get handsy with her five minutes into the meeting.

When the lieutenant's boss protested and threatened a gang war, Brambles had snapped her fingers and summoned what could only be a fucking pit demon from the depths of hell to threaten the man back. The creature looked like a teenager, just like Brambles, at first. But it was...off. The longer you looked, the worse it got.

It wore a draping black cloak that covered most of its body, with the ends turning to mist when it reached the floor. It had a pale, young face and white hair. Its eyes glowed just like Brambles', except they were a toxic green that made Jason's heart skip a beat in fear. The creature was snarling, with a fucking muzzle on it to keep its sharp teeth away from wandering fingers.

With a nod from Brambles, the creature bounded forward and knocked the guy to the floor, its arm elbow-deep into the guy's chest. The dude looked terrified, and a little sick "Would you rather lose a lieutenant or your life?" She had snarled, sounding almost a bit demonic herself. The other boss had backed down without another word, writing off his subordinate as dead and gone.

Instead of killing the guy, however, Brambles simply banished her little guard dog to a corner of the warehouse to play with its new toy in peace.

"Is she allowed to do that?" Someone whispered.

"They weren't unionized, so the Goonion won't say anything." Another answered.

It was the most awkward meeting in the history of the criminal underworld. No one even died since they were all focused on the newcomer.

Jason could feel a headache forming as the meeting came to an end. Brambles was still sitting in her chair. The creature had grown bored of its toy and was leaning against her, sprawled out lazily and barely flicking an ear at the onlookers in acknowledgment. A few people were idling around her, mostly women, trying to talk some big game and get on the kid's good side. Brambles was humoring them, taking tight control of the conversation when they got too prying.

Jason sighed. He knew he'd have to go over and have a talk with the kid, even if it was just for Bruce's files. He hauled himself upwards and stalked over. "Pardon me, ladies and gents, but I'm going to borrow the kiddo here for a moment."

The creature hissed at him, tensed at his approach. Brambles kept a tight grip on the back of its muzzle, keeping it grounded. The other criminals scattered like flies. They were the only two (three?) left in the warehouse within minutes.

Bramble rose to glare at him. "What." She spat. "If you're here to convince me not to get involved with anything, I will set Grim on your ass after lighting it on fire."

The creature, Grim, growled in agreement. The sound echoed strangely like he was hearing it from underwater.

"Relax, I'm not here to do any of that." Jason raised his hands in surrender, immediately abandoning that possible line of thought. "I'm just here to talk business. You're young, and while you don't want to admit it, inexperienced."

"Stop the fancy words, Red Hood." Brambles' eyes glowed again, and she released her hold on Grim's muzzle. "If you want to make a deal, say it to my face. If you're here to dig for information, either ask me or hit the road. I prefer honesty over flower talk, so tell me what you want before I take over your area, too."

Jason bristled. His vision was tinted green as he snapped, "What the fuck is your problem, kid?! I just wanted to make sure you were safe and not being forced to do this. I was even going to offer my support and protection if it was too much! I know you aren't going to stop, but that doesn't mean I want a kid to die just because they got into something they shouldn't and they think their fancy guard dog will always be there to protect them!"

Brambles' eyes stopped glowing, and her stare softened a bit. Grim went deadly still, just floating there, staring at Jason. His heart beat like crazy in his chest. What was he saying? It was all true, but he could've been nicer about it. Dick would've found a way to be nicer.

-krrrk- "Ibis, reporting in. I think you can trust him, guys. Even if he's a Bat, his connections and experience would be useful in our plans. Ibis out." -krrrk-

Jason flinched from the sudden noise, looking around to find the source. It sounded like it had come from everywhere, even inside his own helmet. Brambles immediately switched out her hostile look for an annoyed one, tapping an earpiece he hadn't noticed before.

"Ibis, you really have to stop opening up our comm lines to the public." She snapped, but there was no real heat to it. "And I thought I told you to stop eavesdropping!"

-krrrk- "Sorry, can't help it. I'm everywhere now! You shouldn't have given me this power." -krrrk-

Grim hissed.

-krrrk- "Don't hiss at me, young man! You were the one who suggested this!" -krrrk-

"I'm sorry, time out!" Jason made a T with his hands. The green from his vision had completely disappeared now. "What the FUCK is going on now?"

Brambles sighed, rubbing her temples. "You know what? Fine. We'll trust you. My name is Sam. Nice to meet you, Jason Todd."

Jason stepped back, immediately reaching for his gun. Grim darted forward and promptly flew through him, stealing all his weapons in one go. "I'm Danny!" Grim-Danny?-chirped in a human voice, giving him a shit-eating smile. "Sorry for the act, Mr. Hood. And sorry about the name drop, I'm the one that told them."

-krrrk- "I'm Tucker! There are more of us, but they're busy. I have literally so many questions for you, Mr. Hood." -krrrk-

"Now that introductions are over-Danny don't eat his smoke bombs, you're not gonna look like Dorathea-we'd like your help."

Jason squinted at them. "You understand this is all suspicious as fuck, right? And how did a pit demon find out who I am?"

-krrrk- "Yeah, we know. But lives are on the line here, and I think you'd really be a help!" -krrrk-

Brambles-Sam-sighed and pulled out a flash drive. "I was going to use this as leverage, but I guess it'll have to be useful in other ways." She tossed it to Jason, who numbly caught it. "Look over it if you want. If you don't, then just burn it. Do not try to plug it into the Batcomputer. Don't try to send it to the Batcomputer, either. A virus will target that specific IP address as soon as it makes contact. Any other computer is fine."

"Look it over, and we can go from there," Danny added, spinning in midair while chomping on one of Jason's knives. (His good one, too!) "And I'm not a pit demon, but I am dead. That's how I knew about you. Whatever brought you back to life gave the Realms a real headache for a while. It wasn't hard to look you up in the records."

"This is so much information. Lives are on the line? And two, three kids are dealing with it? By becoming crime bosses?"

-krrrk- "Technically, Sam's the only crime boss here. And that was kind of an accident. She was supposed to create a safe foothold in Gotham in case we needed to evacuate our town. But we all got cool nicknames out of it! And you're the only adult we've told this stuff to!" -krrrk-

"I'm what?"

"The only adult." Sam's unwavering gaze seemed to pierce his soul. "There are quite literally no other adults that can help, Red Hood. None that we trust, not really. Any adult intervention needs to be planned carefully so it doesn't backfire on us. We're trusting you here, Jason. Not only are you like us, which technically puts you in danger too, but you have power and connections to support a whole town of people the government wants to eradicate."

Jason looked at the little green flash drive in his hand. He didn't want to ask. "And this...?"

"A fruit basket," Sam said simply. "Originally, it was supposed to be blackmail. But instead, this is a present to show our goodwill and faith. To show you our skills. That drive contains information on other gangs, upcoming rogue attacks, chemical breakdowns of Joker Venom and Fear Gas, unfinished antidote formulas, etc. Tucker and his team scoured the underbelly of Gotham and gathered dirt on every single prominent figurehead. Including Bruce Wayne, should you choose to use it."

"I would never-"

"But you've thought about it." Danny cut in and scratched his neck. Jason's hands shook. "It's not a bad thing. It's just the nature of the dead. Wanting to right the wrongs left over from their time with the living. Even if you walk and breathe now, that doesn't mean desire disappears."

"The point is, we need help. Even if I'm loathe to admit it." Sam rolled her eyes, and suddenly, Jason didn't see a potential supervillain in the making. He saw a teenager trying her best, shouldering the responsibility of hundreds of people, both in Gotham and her hometown. Danny looked the same, no matter how other-worldly he was. What battles were they facing? Why weren't there any adults to turn to? What kind of lives were they leading if they immediately trusted a known crime lord with their lives upon the first meeting?

"I'll think about it." Jason finally said. Danny trilled in excitement, and some tension bled out of Sam's shoulders. "If the situation is bad enough, however, I'm calling in someone else for help."

Danny shrugged. "As long as it ain't Batman! I don't think he'll appreciate us smuggling a town of liminals into his city."

Sam poked Danny's shoulder, prompting him to look at her. "Let's go, before you break his brain with more info-dumping. Bye Red Hood!"

"Uh, yeah. Goodbye!" Jason stuttered. He watched the two kids walk towards the exit door, before shimmering out of sight before they even touched the handle.

What the fuck.

[hogwartslegacyreactions2]

Welcome back!!! :) We all missed you

Could you please write one in which MC is an animagus and the characters react to them transforming?

Thank you so much and take it easy 😁

HLC REACT TO MC BEING AN ANIMAGUS

A/N: since no animal was specified, we're going with the classic kitty cat :3

MC finally did it! After months of prep, and some good luck, they completed the animagus ritual....only to become a silver tabby. Not as epic as they would have hoped, but still cool. They needed to show their friends IMMEDIATELY.

~~~

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: "Well aren't you adorable." He chuckles as he kneels down to pet MC. "I'm not surprised you became an animagus. I'm just disappointed you didn't ask me to become one with you." He picks up MC and carries them off. "Now I have a perfectly valid excuse to call you Kitten."

OMINIS GAUNT: "You know, I don't find it funny when you tell me you want to SHOW me something. My wand has its limits." He huffs and waits for MC to do whatever they were so eager to do. His eyebrows rise in shock. One moment he detects a person, the next, a small animal. "What in Merlin's name? You're an animagus??" He hears MC meow and rub against his leg, just like the castle cats. He smiles a little and reaches down to pet MC. "Whatever will we do with you?"

ANNE SALLOW: "Oh, not fair! I was going to go through with the ritual myself but the blasted mandrake leaf wouldn't stay put. Even so..." She picks up MC and cradles then in her arms. "Since you're here. You can be my lap warmer while I study transfiguration."

IMELDA REYES: "You're as mad as I thought. You risked your life to become an animagus, only to become a cat? I'd get my money back if I were you." She watches MC flop over and make some air biscuits with the biggest eyes. "...I see your point."

NATSAI ONAI: She has stars in her eyes and immediately changes in her gazelle form. She and MC dance around each other happily and run down the corridors to cause some havoc. It was entirely worth the detention.

GARRETH WEASLEY: "Brilliant!" He watches in awe as MC transforms and starts purring against him. He picks them up and puts them on his shoulder. "Let's go raid Professor Sharp's storage room. He'll never suspect a cat." He now has a new mantra: Gain kitty, do crime.

LEANDER PREWETT: He looks around to see if anyone saw what MC just did. He leans down and harshly whispers to them. "You do realize that ritual is against the rules here right!? It's so dangerous! You could have died! Let alone the fact that you aren't registered. You could get in serious trouble if you're caught." MC flattens their ears and growls, he puts his hands up defensively. "I won't tell, but be more careful. I'm serious."

AMIT THAKKAR: "By the stars, that's incredible! Was the ritual as hard as it sounds? How many times did you attempt it? Was it difficult to actually keep a mandrake leaf in your mouth for 30 days? These are questions I must know that answers to." MC just meows at him. "Oh...right."

EVERETT CLOPTON: "Whoa! That's amazing! Could you always do that?" He kneels down to scratch MC under the chin. "Hey, I need a favor." He grins devilishly and points at a distant group of students. "See the tall one? I need you to scratch the hell out of his legs. No questions. I'll pay."

POPPY SWEETING: She nearly screams from how cute MC's cat form is. She immediately scoops up MC and cuddles them close to her chest. "Please, for the love of Merlin and all magic, let me put little hats on you. My grandma knits all sorts of little hats and sweaters for her cats and I just KNOW they would look adorable on you." MC is locked in her arms. There is no escape.

ELAZAR FIG: "Extraordinary!" He was sitting at his desk when MC came in to show him their new trick. MC jumped onto his desk as a cat and slowly blinks at him. He reaches forward and gently pets their head. "I've always known you were capable of strong magic, and I'm glad you trust me enough to show me this, but do be cautious. Being an unregistered animagus is a big deal to some in the Ministry. Tread carefully. For now, you're welcome to nap on my desk."

[ak319]

Lovesick Village Boy x Fem civil servant reader

Part II

➺Part I

It's been two days since your arrival at Al-Razeh. Maha, your PA, poured tea into your cup and hers, and you both sat down, enjoying the evening and relaxing on your estate's lawn.

"The weather is nice today, Ma'am," Maha said, taking in the cool breeze.

"Indeed," you replied, savoring the calm. After a moment, you turned to her. "By the way, you’ve lived here all your life, right?"

"Yes, ma'am," she answered, glancing at you curiously.

"So... any folklore tied to this village? Since, you know, villages are known to be famous for such things." You smiled, lighting the mood with a bit of humor. “Often having their own stories.”

Maha chuckled softly at your inquiry and drew her chair a bit closer to yours. “Well, not exactly folklore, but there is this family. Personally, neither my family nor I are closely acquainted with them, but…” She took a sip of her tea, her words now capturing all your attention.

"They are the Jafaris--Kadir Jafari’s family, they own general stores here, two of them. He has three sons. The oldest two are married and have children, but their youngest… he’s always been something of an enigma around here.”

Your curiosity piqued, you snorted softly. “An enigma?”

“Yes, ma’am, an enigma,” Maha’s voice took on a tone of anxious seriousness. “He’s known for his extraordinary beauty. I have not seen him myself though. So, up until he was about sixteen, everything seemed fine. But then, he suddenly vanished from his friends’ lives and stopped attending school. Despite the family’s best efforts to conceal the issue, it eventually came to light that he was... possessed. The situation was dire, his agonizing screams were reportedly heard throughout the quiet streets. This was happening around the time of his second brother’s wedding. Guests at the house, including those from the neighboring families, overheard the commotion. The disturbances along with conflicts within the family caused tensions to rise, and at one point, it nearly led to the engagement being called off. Fortunately, the wedding went ahead, but Habib was absent, cited as being ill by his family.”

You listened with growing intrigue, though a pang of sympathy tugged at your heart. Such occurrences were tragically real, and often, people not only suffered but sometimes perished.

"Let me guess," you said, shifting your gaze to Maha, "you mentioned he was--no, is--beautiful?"

"Yes, that’s correct."

"Then black magic? Possibly from relatives?" You inquired, noting the surprised look in Maha’s eyes.

"Y-yes," she stammered. "I mean, that's what most of the people think. The cleric himself when consulted by some of the village elders, particularly Kadir’s friends, didn't reveal anything except that it was indeed something paranormal."

"That's often the case with such situations," you remarked. "Clerics typically avoid naming names if it's a matter of black magic. If you discover the culprit on your own, that's one thing, but directly asking the clerics usually only gets you vague responses. Or maybe the family didn't want the details out."

Black magic presented a confusing challenge when it came to legal matters. The laws were clear, if someone was caught practicing black magic, they faced severe penalties. Yet, the shadowy nature of these practices often meant that many perpetrators remained hidden. Clerics, bound by their own reasons, often withheld crucial information about those involved. In villages like Al-Razeh, such issues could be predictably common. To you, black magic was not merely a mystical concern but a serious crime. The victims deserved justice, and those who perpetuated such malevolence needed to be held accountable.

“Ma’am, how do you know so much about these things?” Maha’s childlike curiosity brought a smile to your face.

“Nothing special,” you replied, “just a hobby. So, how is the boy now?”

"Oh! I missed a part," Maha said, her voice dropping to a more serious tone. "People, like you mentioned, initially suspected the relatives because that's common in cases of black magic. But his brothers were also under suspicion. They always seemed to harbor resentment towards Habib. After all, he’s the most beautiful of them, so it wouldn't be surprising if they were involved. Men too get jealous over these matters."

With a pitiful sigh, you set your cup on the table and leaned back. "It breaks one’s heart to hear such stories--family turning against family. This... magic stuff is no joke. Deep-rooted jealousy can lead to such tragic outcomes, tearing apart lives and families."

"Indeed," Maha agreed solemnly. "But it could just have been a normal possession and not caused by magic cuz like I said, he is said to be very beautiful. He's reportedly doing better now, but he hasn’t left the house since then. It might be the cleric’s advice, or perhaps it's his parents' protectiveness or... his brothers' doing. Some people speculate that he might have died."

“What? Died? But didn’t the cleric solve his problem?” you asked, puzzled.

“Yes, he did. It��s just a rumor--he can’t be dead. You can't hide something like that for so long. People who are the family's relatives and friends, have seen him inside the house. So, he’s definitely there.” Maha chuckled, shaking her head at the absurdity of such rumors.

"What about the cleric? He still here?"

"Oh no, he was from some other place. Kadir called him here for his son's treatment." You hummed and took in the information. Then a subtle smirk graced your lips.

“It could have been a lover, too,” you suggested casually.

“What?”

You petted Milo, your cat, who had jumped onto your lap. “It might have been a lover who cursed him, someone who wanted him. One of the leading cause for black magic."

“He was 16.”

You laughed, “So? She could have been 16 too. Who knows? Anyway, did you put the reports in my study?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay, I’ll go freshen up.” You stood up, leaving Maha to enjoy her tea on the lawn. Your thoughts shifted away from the village story, focusing instead on the duties that lay ahead.

═════ ◈ ═════

Odai stepped into the small shop, removing his glasses as his gaze briefly settled on the figure behind the counter. What caught his attention were the eyes--unmistakably unique, as if they held a quiet depth. But the rest of the man’s face was hidden beneath a cloth, adding an air of mystery.

"Um, two packs of cigarettes." Odai glanced back at the car parked outside across the road. Through the tinted windows, he could see his reflection.

"I can't."

Odai’s head snapped back in surprise. Is he hearing things?

"Two packs of cigarettes, brother," he repeated, a bit more firmly this time.

But the man behind the counter shook his head again, those evasive eyes refusing to reveal more. What was going on?

"What?--what do you mean? It’s just a pack of cigarettes. Why are you saying no?"

"I-I can't sell them... I don't want to."

"Why? That’s your job! Why even own a shop then? Is this how you treat your customers?" Odai's frustration grew.

"No... I just don’t sell cigarettes... They’re harmful."

Was this man serious? Was he actually joking?

"Look, boy. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I need them, so I’m gonna ask one last time before I leave. Hand over the cigarettes."

But all he got in return was another silent shake of the head. That was it.

"Fine, keep running your business like this bud and you’re bound for success," Odai muttered, "And maybe don’t stock cigarettes in your shop if you’re not planning to sell them!"

He stormed back to the car, slamming the driver’s door shut accidentally. The noise made you glance up from your file.

"What’s wrong? Did you get them?" you asked, noticing his disgruntled expression.

"I’m so-rry, ma’am… um… the boy in the shop… he refused to sell. God, I can’t believe it--like, what even was that? But there's another store nearby so , we will go there." Odai stammered, frustration clear in his voice. Before he could shift into gear, you stopped him with a curious question.

"Wait, he refused to sell cigarettes?"

"Yes." Odai nodded, still baffled.

"That’s interesting. And did he say why?"

"They’re harmful." Odai’s ears flushed as he heard you chuckle softly. He wasn’t sure if you were annoyed or just amused by the whole thing.

"Now this is intriguing. Someone refusing to run their business properly... now that’s a case worth looking into." Still chuckling, you slipped out of the car before Odai could respond, but he quickly followed, his curiosity piqued.

Like him, you took in the scene before heading to the small counter tucked in the corner. There, the figure sat quietly, standing the moment you approached, his demeanor almost shy under your gaze.

"You’re the one who refuses to sell cigarettes because they’re harmful?" you asked, your voice curious yet firm.

He nodded. His eyes, though not meeting yours directly, seemed to speak in a language of their own--soft but full of meaning.

"Do you know who I am?" You wondered if the uniform might catch his attention.

A brief silence followed before his voice, barely above a whisper, reached you. "No.."

"I am the new DC."

"T-he DC?"

"That's right."

"I still… won’t sell." Odai huffed behind you, clearly irritated, but you hardly noticed. Your eyes softened, lighting up with quiet amusement at the childlike defiance. "Why? This is not how you run a shop, boy."

"I don’t want you....our… new DC to be harmed. I won’t let a pack… kill an honest officer."

For a moment, time seemed to still. Never in your life did you imagine hearing something so simple, yet so profound. His words, spoken with such gentleness, struck something deep inside you. Just who was this man? You could sense Odai’s stunned silence behind you, just as surprised by the unexpected warmth in those gentle words.

After clearing your throat, you finally asked, "What’s your name?"

"H-Habib, miss."

This… this is Habib? The Habib that Maha had told you about?

"They’re the Jafaris--Kadir Jafari’s family. They own general stores around here, two of them."

And here you were, standing in one of them. But how was he… here?

From behind a curtain serving as a door to an adjoined room, a man in his late fifties appeared, his presence steady and familiar. He moved to stand beside Habib.

'That must be Kadir, his father.'

"Oh! I’m sorry, I was just praying in the other room. How may I help you?" Kadir asked politely, his tone warm. Meanwhile, Habib stood quietly to the side, his gaze fixed downward, trying to shrink into the background, as if seeking shelter behind his father’s presence.

"Well, our DC wanted some cigarettes, and this boy refused to sell them," Odai interjected with a trace of frustration in his voice.

"Oh--I’m so sorry. Ma’am, please, forgive him. He’s new to this… and, well, he refuses to sell them to anyone," Kadir said with a chuckle that barely masked his embarrassment, as he reached for the cigarettes.

"No, it’s alright. Really, I don’t want them. And… you’ve raised a kind soul, sir," you said, your gaze briefly shifting to Habib, who still stood quietly, his presence almost ethereal. Maha was right. If those eyes alone held such depth and softness, then his face… You couldn’t help but feel a quiet curiosity bloom within you, wondering what beauty lay beneath the mask. Yet, it wasn’t a thought born of desire--no it was reverent. There was a satisfaction in knowing that Habib remained untouched by the eyes of envy or malice.

"I--thank you, ma’am. But, please, if you still want--"

"It’s fine." You smiled, your voice gentle. "I’ll just take those chips instead. Thank you."

Before leaving, your eyes found Habib’s one last time. For a brief second, he looked back, those soulful eyes meeting yours with a vulnerability that touched something deep inside you. And then, just like that, the moment passed. Something stirred in your chest as you made your way back to the car.

His demeanor, though shy and reserved, had an innate warmth that contrasted starkly with the pain you suspected he might have endured. Habib's eyes, so expressive despite their attempt to hide behind the mask of modesty, spoke volumes. How could anyone ever think to harm such a gentle, innocent soul? His kindness made him so pure, yet so brave in his quiet way. Your heart ached at the thought of someone cruel, someone arrogant, standing where you were now. If they had received the same refusal, what might they have done to him and his father?

Part III

(AN: I cried writing this due to the unspoken romance which is more to come and I just wanna give the biggest hug to Habib so bad 😭)

[livmadart]

So I've been rereading your Phantump Conan au and it's taken over my brain. I love the idea of Shinichi's Pokemon Mom Haruna she's so cool. The boy really does just collect parental figures. Does she visit Shinichi even after he starts living with Ran? I think it'd be nice if she just came by every once in a while to check on him. And even after he turns back/gets revived does she still look after him? I have the mental image in my head of a wild Gengar just popping up at crime scenes and fussing over Shinichi and the police just accepting that she's basically his Pokemon, even if he never catches her. She teams up with Sherlock to make sure that Shinichi actually takes care of himself.

Also, how do the Ran Suspicion Arcs work out in this au? Be ause Shinichi's dead, and I don't think Ran's just going to accuse a pokemon of being her dead friend even if it's a ghost type. Maybe she stumbles upon a research paper or something while on an internet dive about Ghost Types, the specifics of how they form (with Phantump as an example for the age thing) and that the majority don't remember anything about being human beyond a few flashes or fuzzy memories at best - and then compares it to how Conan gravitated towards things Shinichi liked and puts two and two together? It might end up similar to your babified Shinichi AU (another fantastic au), where she's convinced he doesn't remember anything, but unlike that AU she's not actively trying to bring his memories back because hes... dead. There's nothing she can do to fix this, not really. The most she can is bring home mystery novels and put detective shows on the TV and do her best for the small remaining piece she has of her friend without breaking in the process.

Sorry for the wall of text, my brain got away from me...

Hi!! No worries about the wall of text I absolutely LOVE to hear all these thoughts!! I think Conan deserves a funny ghost pokemon mom and im glad you agree ^_^ though I believe it was @thornrose270 who named her Haruna :) but I definitely see her coming to fuss over him even in post canon!

And before they rescue jirachi, while he is still thoroughly Pokémon’d, I was considering a case where Conan and Heiji investigate a killer who’s tied to an older cold case…her own…

As for Ran’s suspicions, I think that’s exactly how it would play out! Or she speaks to a medium who just can tell…or Hakuba figures it out and he’s not that good at keeping a secret lol…many possibilities :)

Thank you for enjoying my work, and thank you for your ask!

[coff-in]

Hii it's Lacey, or as you know me ⭐ anon.

Since its still lovely pride month and I am craving some Andrew and Ashley, I'd like a Ashley and (Sex maniac) Andrew x Demon Female Reader. (Bonus points if she's a succubus)

Like Reader hates everyone except her wife and husband Ashley and Andrew, like she won't put up with anyone's bullshit but Ashley's and Andrew. How I'd describe her personality, is Aubrey and Sunny from Omori, just she speaks more. (LAST TIME I CHECKED YOU KNOW ABOUT OMORI, CORRECT ME IF I AM WRONG)

Also since most of things Andrew and Ashley do that aren't federal crimes and having hardcore incest sex is for shock value. Like Ashley would randomly bite Reader, just because she can. (I am noticing a pattern with my requests because they are either being fucked till you can't think of it's fluff but either Andrew or Ashley bite.)

How they met was because Ashley decided with the left over blood of their parents, WHY NOT SUMMON ANOTHER DEMON WHAT CAN POSSIBLY GO WRONG? And so they did, now they are stuck with a hot yet bitchy demon girl that could possibly kill them at any given moment, but the deadliness of Reader just makes her all the more hot.

Poor Andrew. That's all I have to say for him.

-⭐ anon

notes from coff-in: i love non-humans... love love love interspecies romance <3 it's so cool... also trying to squeeze this one out for pride month!

[fem] reader-insert, succubus reader, NSFW, incest

succubus [reader] was really hostile when she was first summoned. she was enjoying her time lazing about in the demon realm, even if it was a little boring, so being summoned to the demon realm by a tar soul was very inconvenient. however, the moment her presence entered the room, the fucking OVERWHELMING FEELING of sexual tension from andrew immediately caught her tension. now THIS was something worth her attention!

we haven't seem specialized demons in tcoaal but most things i've read of succubuses/incubuses is that they feed off of the lust of humans. mix that with RELUCTANT SEX MANIAC ANDREW GRAVES WITH THE UNCOMFORTABLY, UNREASONABLY BIG AND NEEDY ENDOWMENTS??? u get some funny things happening

ashley loves her demon wife who doesn't care of anyone else but her and her brother. she can drag them along to do any silly thing she wants to do without much resistance (not true, if it endangers them then there will be resistance from [reader] and andrew). that's not to mention the sex... it gets freaky crazy

ashley can't last as long as andrew or [reader] (and [reader] just barely feeds on andrew's lust quick enough to have seconds and third rounds with him) the sheets are sticky and torn, andrew uses everyone as a chew toy, and ashley is lavished between them since she likes the attention and they know that. there's a gone wild audio on reddit about tcoaal with andrew and a succubus listener and i think sex would go pretty much like that. god the cock worship, the brat taming, the tail pulling and ass slapping... the darkest depths of degenerate depravity the demon realm can offer!

andrew is... going through it. he relief [reader] gives his is immeasurable, like, omg. he's glad that ashley and [reader] get along, since she sort of dictates who they can and can't interact with in their relationship. in fact, having [reader] around has brought a sense of security for andrew and ashley since even though she's great at oral, she's also good at killing their enemies :) deadly and dangerous, nothing hotter than that <3 <3

she's pretty quiet when she's not moaning their names like a bitch in heat in bed, but they don't mind it too much. once she got used to her place in their lives, she started teasing them on their journey of living their lives post satanic cannibalism. the wedding proposal was unexpected

i do not know who proposed first, maybe you do, but the wedding was beautiful! andrew and ashley do not have many friends (they only really need themselves and reader <3) so the guest list was empty... maybe besides the entity that has helped them. the venue was beautiful, thanks to [reader] working her demon powers, and ashley's great artistic eye! it was truly a sight to behold! ah... what a wonderful union under unholy matrimony... <3 <3 <3

----

coff-in

[miz-chase]

Bones AU - A Hollywood Meeting

Booth & Brennan split up. Maybe it was his confession on the steps, or her confession in the rain, or just circumstances driven between them. They haven't seen each other in months, years. She doesn't answer his calls, when he's brave enough to even try.

Out of the blue, one day, Booth gets a call from her agent. There's a new Kathy Reichs movie coming out, would The Real Agent Andy be interested in coming to the premiere in exchange for a few interviews? Her agent is clearly fishing for drama to drum up the movie release, wasn't it time for Agent Andy to finally break his silence?

Booth doesn't want to talk to these people, but DC has been suffocating lately. The change of scenery, for free, fancy hotel included, sounds nice. So he goes.

Hotel's nice, he's got an old penguin suit that looks good enough, and he doesn't take it personally that he's got to take his own cab to get to the theater. He lurks in the background of the red carpet hubbub, drink in hand. Bones's agent doesn't even acknowledge him. That suits him fine.

His seat in the theater is far in the back, which turns out to be ideal. Watching actors sketch out an echo of his own life, a happier time when things still made sense, when she was still in his life... it makes him physically ill. He stumbles out into the empty second-floor lobby and slumps on to back stairs. Booth feels ridiculously out of place, surrounded by red carpets, ornate golden doodads, and shiny, shiny mirrors. On so many levels, he doesn't belong here.

A door slams, and for a moment, he doesn't even recognize her. She's done all up in makeup, a fancy hair thing, a breathtaking dress. The look on her face, though, is all Bones. Perfect, beautiful Bones, decidedly green in the gills. She collapses against one of the gilded window frames, pressing her forehead against cool glass.

She doesn't notice him there, and suddenly he finds himself too tonguetied to break the silence. The movies soundtrack and the boom of an explosion, muffled by the theater doors, fill the empty air between them. He watches her, the smooth skin of her bared back, the shaking of her shoulders. It's like he can't even breathe, for fear of catching her attention.

But then the theater doors open again, a cluster of people business-like as they stroll over to Brennan. At the center is her agent, clipboard in hand. Unaware or indifferent to her client's distress, she pulls Brennan over, rapidly firing off interview obligations, places they need to go, people they need to speak to. The way Bones's shoulders stiffen is too familiar, her face a mask of severe professionalism. Despite the slight teetering on high heels, she manages that familiar, stubborn stomping that belongs at a crime scene, not a glitzy theater.

He's still looking at her feet when he realizes she's stopped, standing completely still, directly in front of him. When he looks up, her lips are parted, eyes wide in surprise. They can only stare at each other, speechless in a frozen moment. Time collapses, and he's looking at her across an American University lecture hall, wondering about the impossibility of fate.

But then her agent is back, tugging on Brennan's elbow, reminding her that the press junket was meant to start ten minutes ago. She's dragged away before she finds any words to say, and he's helpless to do anything more than sigh her name.

Then she's gone. He's alone again. It was like he had imagined the whole thing. He leaned back on his elbows, staring up at the ornate ceiling and trying to bring himself back to reality.

But then there's pounding of bare feet on the flight of stairs below him, the whisper of silk dragged on marble. She's out of breath, her hair askew, dress hiked up by hands holding impossibly spindly shoes.

She pants, staring at him, lips forming syllables that never seem to make words. After moments or hours pass, she finally finds one that sticks.

"Booth."

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hey! I just saw the new spiderman movie (across the spider verse) and had an epiphany. (First of all, did you see the movie? I don't want to give you spoilers or something like that, if not, you can ignore my request)

A spider-woman reader who gets lost in the multiverse and somehow makes it to RoR's, maybe platonic yandere reactions because of how young she is and what she has to go through? (because of the canon and all that)

Maybe a bonus of Miguel O'hara going to look for her so as not to alter her canon and seeing a group of supreme beings on the way? (God that man is wild)

With the gods being Odin, Hades and Poseidon and on the human side Adam, Qin Shi Huang and Tesla.

-You wandered around, curious as to where you were, after your watch malfunctioned when you were trying to run from Miguel. You were trying to help Miles who just wanted to save his dad.

-You remember when your own dad was killed, something Miguel said was a ‘canon event’, but you felt like you could have prevented it, you could have saved your dad, and now you were giving another fellow teenager a chance to save his own dad.

-Those who defended Miles were ordered to be captured to be grounded to prevent any more canon events from happening according to plan, to prevent the multi-verse from being destroyed.

-You were one teenager verses an army of other spider heroes, so of course you ran, scared, and when you tried to go back to your own dimension, someone managed to take a swipe at you, making your watch malfunction and you wound up here and your watch broke right afterwards.

-There were so many weird people around, people that didn’t look human, so you thought that you didn’t stand out much, wearing your own spider suit, a black bodysuit with red web designs, and a red pleated mini skirt with an oversized bow tied to the back of it and a black widow symbol on your chest and your back.

-Brunnhilde ran to find you after reports came to find you and found you with Shiva who instantly like you as you were sparkly eyed- or sparkly masked, “You’re so cool Mr. Shiva!” you had never met anyone with four arms before and he was instantly taken by you, easily able to tell that you were a teenager.

-Brunnhilde brough you before the other gods and powerful warriors from history, you only recognized a few names, like Adam and Nikola Tesla as far as humans went, but you knew a lot of gods, as you were a history buff.

-You unmasked, pulling it off and jaws dropped, seeing you really were just a teenager and you told them about what led you to being here, something Odin was able to tell was the truth, as well as the broken watch.

-Your eyes were huge; meeting Nikola Tesla himself, and he was thrown off by your elation before you started to ask him questions about his inventions, and he instantly beamed and the two of you hit it off quickly. He had never met someone so into science that wasn’t a scientist, and after you told them about your own powers, showing them by shooting webs and able to scale walls after being bitten by a radioactive black widow spider, he was elated, wanting to know as much as possible!!

-Nikola pulled your watch apart, trying to figure out how it worked but it was very advanced.

-Adam was instantly your parent in this new world, as he was furious that you were out fighting crime and putting yourself in danger, furious that a child was being forced to do this, after you told them about canon events, as most of the different Spider-Men gained their powers as teenagers.

-You found yourself quickly adopted by many different people in this new world, getting a massive family almost instantly, which was nice, since you only ever had your dad, and since he died, you lived mainly at HQ and only going to your dimension for school and to fight the bad guys in your dimension.

-Since you couldn’t leave, you were welcomed into this world, and since there were no villains, you got to live as a normal teenager, learning about figures of history directly as well as learning from gods.

-Poseidon was one that took a little longer to warm up to you, as he didn’t really want to bother with you, until Hades brought you over and your eyes were huge and sparkly, wanting to know more about the oceans as humans weren’t going very fast with their exploration of it.

-Hades sent him a small glare when Poseidon tried to wave you off and spoke rudely at first, but seeing your drive to learn more made him realize that not all humans were bad, a few, like you and Kojiro were proof of that.

-Hades adored you, as you dropped in, literally, wanting to ask him all sorts of questions from the lore you learned in school and he was happy to get away from his paperwork and was able to tell you all about the truths being many of the legends, some were true, and some had more embellishments added in.

-Odin was the god you spent the most time with, as you lived in the Norse pantheon with the valkyries, so you got to see him, Loki, and Thor all the time, although Odin learned quickly that Loki was a bad influence on you, as he would encourage you to get up to mischief with him but seeing you happy was nice here and there.

-When you first met Qin Shi Huang, your eyes nearly popped out of your head, realizing that he was a bona-fide emperor!! You asked him so many questions, a lot like a curious child and he was quick to realize how smart you were, and he loved watching you use your abilities, even taking him flying with you once, showing the strength in your webs. It was his turn to be sparkly-eyed when you showed him your fangs, your upper canines that grew just a bit when you were first bitten, and you told him that you could paralyze your enemies for about four hours with the poison in your fangs, but you don’t like biting others, to you it’s kind of gross.

-When a portal opened and Miguel stepped out along with several other members of HQ and he immediately glared, “There you are!!” you let out a terrified squeak and instantly ducked under a table but when nothing happened, you peeked out, seeing your new parents, those who had adopted you, were standing between Miguel and you.

-Miguel remained calm, explaining the canon events, and that the multi-verse was at threat of falling apart if you didn’t return to your own world and continue with your duties, this time with a babysitter since you were one of the ones who tried to help Miles.

-Miguel tried to yell at you once you came around, peeking out around Adam, who held your hand when he felt your hand looking for his, “Miles needs to understand that this needs to happen! Miles, you, and those other idiots who helped him are all so selfish!”

-You immediately snapped back, “He’s a teenager- I’m a teenager, we’re kids! What do you expect when you tell us that we have to let our loved ones die?!”

-He glared and Odin, showing his intimidating aura, spoke, “That is enough!” Jessica tried to reason with you, but you didn’t want to, you refused to believe that this was the only way.

-Zeus then laughed warmly, “My-my~ you humans always seem to make such a fuss out of things. As gods, we have the power to remove the instability of these multi-verses, so things can play out according to how you all want them to.”

-Jaws dropped all around as you gawked at him, completely stunned before the gods combined their powers to just that, giving Miles the opportunity to save his dad with no repercussions, there were no longer a need for canon events!!

-Miguel was stunned before he sighed softly, admitting defeat and sent out the message to everyone, letting them know what had happened and that Miles and those who were being hunted were no longer in trouble.

-You cheered loudly, celebrating and Jessica couldn’t help but ruffle your hair lightly before she gave you a new watch, as she knew yours had been destroyed, giving you the opportunity to come back to HQ whenever you wanted.

-You beamed, leaping and hugging Poseidon who caught your embrace, as you now had the freedom you always wanted to do what you want with your powers, and you could come and go to Valhalla as you pleased.

[ruins-of-tragedy]

Going to continue the RWBY watchalong textposts. 'Cause I will probably need them to cry over simpler times once I finish the show.

Thoughts on just the first three episodes of season one here because I had too many...

Season 01 Episode 01: Ruby Rose

- Very reminiscent of "I will show you fear in a handful of dust."

- That crime boss was in Yang's trailer. Now we know why he was there. He wanted it to rain men.

- The way Ruby made sure to check in with the shopkeeper before leaving. 🥹

- OOOOOOooooooooh! NOICE fight scenes!

- Hmmm. Villain with an obscured face. A mystery is being developed. Betrayal imminent.

- Blonde huntress. I too would want her autograph. She looks so pretty.

- The way she goes, "If it were up to me..." somehow reminds moi of both McGonagall and Snape.

- Silver eyes are worth calling attention to. Huh. If I remember what my sibling had mentioned once, this is important. Professor Ozpin notes it as well. I can't recall why though. Good thing, I guess.

- Cookies be so good Ruby can't help but stuff her face. Relatable.

- Ahhh. Uncle Qrow. I hope he didn't get too bullied for his name.

- Ruby is freaking precious. I love her. Noble little kiddo. Plus that high-pitched excitement... Cinnamon roll alert!

- Professor Ozpin's glasses are so extra. The heart monitor like thing beside the frames. The small little spectacles. The arch between the viewing bits akin to a parabola. I MUST HAVE THEM.

- Yang. Such a great sister. Almost suffocating her sibling with her love. Adorable!!!

- Ruby doesn't want bees knees. Do bees have knees?

- Yang coming in clutch with the truth. Special ladies, the both of them.

- I can't. Love how the headshots for Roman Torchwick look like the sketch equivalent of our world. Gave me a good laugh.

- Faunus rights. Must be important. Don't like the White Fang's disruption of the peace, but their logo is cool.

- From Signal to Beacon... They really want to shine a light on the guiding forces. Appreciate it.

- Blonde huntress is Glynda Goodwitch?! Is Elphaba coming too?!?!

- "Our world is experiencing an incredible time of peace..." Way to jinx it. Now we know where it all went wrong. 😂

- The ending credits song is so gooooooood!

- Looks like the vomit guy has a legacy to live up to. At least his team has his back. That's nice to see.

- "Victory is in a simple soul." Really honing in on the simple part. The introductory bit also stressed on it.

- Consider me intrigued. Who will Ruby and Yang meet in Beacon? How shall the peace be discarded? And will "Vomit Boy" ever get rid of his initial impression and nickname?

- Wait. Is Ruby the youngest because 'Little' Red Riding Hood is her character backdrop?

Season 01 Episode 02: The Shining Beacon - Pt I

- This opening song. Ugh. So good. Chef's kiss!!!

- Beacon is here. So are Yang and Ruby. And fangirl Ruby as well.

- Her weapon is called Crescent Rose?!?! 🤩👏🏻😍

- Pulling Ruby by the hood of her cape. Using it to cover her face and be an annoyance. Yang knows exactly why it was made and how to use it.

- Oh my Gods. Yang left Ruby spinning and she fell for Weiss. Well, her suitcases I guess. But still. Meet-cute!

- My bad. This is a meet-disaster. I love it! Plus, Weiss' points sank in a little too well. Both for Ruby and her. That sneeze proved it.

- Blake being buried in a book and finding the vial of dust with what can only be the Schnee logo. Huh. It's the same one which was present on the boxes Adam and her were looting. Snowflake. OOOOOOooooooh!

- Ruby is not just a dolt. She is a "complete dolt."

- Listen. Ruby called Weiss princess. Of course I am shipping it. TriMberly in a different bottle... Jokes aside though, I can't wait for Yang and Blake to meet soon!!!

- Whoa. Blake is really giving it to Weiss. NOICE!

- Weiss is pouty heiress baby, as well as a lowkey bully. Blake left. And Ruby is sad and lying on the floor. What a day.

- Vomit guy is Jaune. Ahhh. Motion sickness really out here kicking his arse. And now he is thinking of giving Ruby a nickname; "Crater-face." Is this what they call banter?

- Jaune wants the ladies to love him. Samesies my dude.

- The sword and shield fall out of Jaune's hands. That's what they do. 😆

- Wait. Ruby made that weapon?!? Holy mother of shirtballs. Does that mean Yang also forged hers? Coooool!

- Jaune does not only seem like a good guy, but also someone who has a name to live up to. Hmmm. Is he okie?

- "Strangers are just friends you haven't met yet." So sweet! Jaune's mom should consider adopting me.

- Basically Ruby and Jaune are those biatches who look at each other and go, "Exactly!"

- The end credits song... 😍

Season 01 Episode 03: The Shining Beacon - Pt II

- Opening song. Love you always... Ruby is behind a white caped lady emitting white roses. Her mum am assuming. Also, the winged figure and other assorted monsters with what I think are bones at their back are giving major zombie vibes.

- Yang saved Ruby a seat. Of course. She be a good sibling. The cycle of leaving folks behind continues... Jokes!

- Poor Jaune though. He really be complaining out loud. Someone heard him it seems. Maybe she is "nice and quirky."

- Yang really thinks Ruby is dramatic enough to call a possible meltdown an explosion. LoLL! I can see it.

- Ruby's snort was cute and now she is recalling her encounter with "a crabby girl," while said crabby girl is right behind her... Why is this so funny. It's been done before. But this is somehow better.

- "Oh my God. You really exploded." That line delivery was goooood.

- Weiss just carries a pamphlet titled "Dust for dummies and other Inadequate Individuals" on her at all times?! And of course she has the disclaimer memorised.

- Jaune is catching strays, Ruby is a sweet bean who cannot understand sarcasm and Weiss needs to be not so mean.

- Why did I just realise Professor Ozpin is supposed to be the Wizard of Oz? Still don't know what fairytale character Jaune is though...

- This isn't a first day toast. It's a roast paired with an almost sinister call for action. Hmmm. Maybe Ozpin sounding like he isn't there will play a major role later.

- Jaune. You lovable dork. Who questioned your natural blondeness?

- Sleepover alert!!! Ooooooh! Love Ruby's eye mask.

- Not the boys showing off and preening. Ugh. At least Yang likes it. Also, Jaune is actually wearing a onesie?! Little baby!!!

- Ruby writing a letter to her friends back home is ADORABLE!!! Awww. She is also feeling lonely.

- Yang's pause when trying to describe Jaune isn't fooling anyone. And Ruby. You precious kiddo... Negative friend. 😆

- "You just made one friend and one enemy!" Yang really does not pull her punches. 😂

- There should have been a drinking game going on in that hall for every time Yang gets hit by a pillow. The doggie cushion was extremely cute though.

- Yang giving good advise. Love to see it!

- Oh my Gods. Ruby is the reason Yang meets Blake for the first time here?! AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! If this somehow parallels to Weiss and Ruby also getting together, I will throw a party.

- Just realised Blake is reading by the candlelight. This girl. What a nerd. (said as affectionately as possible)

- On an unrelated note, I really like both Yang and Ruby's tanktops. And what Blake's wearing. The fashion in this show is on point.

- Ruby was so nervous she almost asked Blake to call her Crater-face... Been there.

- Yang is extrovert extraordinaire. Blake will not budge. War of attrition, anyone?

- This "lost cause" will be your future girlfriend Yang! Funny how that works... 🤩

- I would totally read the book Blake's reading. Sounds pretty interesting. Is it a real thing?

- Awwww. Ruby has such a good heart. Happily ever afters for everyone. Gods. I hope she never loses her belief system.

- The fact that Yang used to read to Ruby as a kid reminds me of how the blonde practically raised her sister. She should be proud. Of both Ruby and her own self.

- Weiss and Yang saying the 'you again' dialogue together, while aiming it at someone else entirely was so good. Made me laugh.

- "...that's how I met your mother. And aunt." Blake someday, probably.

- Different ending song. Featured only Weiss. I want to hear all of it. Why did it stop like that?

- Wait. Is Jaune supposed to be Joan of Arc?! If so, NOICE!!!

Edit: If you saw the original 'Juane,' which I then proceeded to turn into Jayne here and there when I tried to fix his name... No you didn't.

Edit Edit: Added the 'Season 01' prefix along with episode names to each header of them thoughts, and changed their colours to blue while turning them bold... 'cause am nice like that.

(Don't spoil stuff pwease! Or I will find you, and I will make sure you witness my not-so-particular set of skills that will end with you having an existential crisis. Toodle-oo!)

[dawnstruck]

A small rant about Arcane and human rights

Something that has been bugging me for a while now: I have been seeing several posts and comments defending CaitVi’s gassing of the Undercity, so I want to talk about it a little bit.

This is not so much about their respective motivations and whether their actions can be justified under that lens. Yes, Vi has no support system, therefore clings on to Cait, and thinks it’s her responsibility to stop Jinx. Yes, Cait blames herself for her mother’s death and has just become head of her house and part of the council. Yes, they might both believe the measures they take are reasonable.

We could argue back and forth whether those decisions and developments make sense for their characters and whether the narrative overall does everything justice. Personally, I think it doesn’t but, again, this is not my main beef.

Instead, I have seen people claim that gassing the Undercity was okay because “they were only using it on gang members.” And omg, there is so much to unpack here.

First off: Were many of the Chem Barons probably ruthless, corrupted, dangerous individuals? Probably. However, I don’t really recall any details of what makes Margot and Chross (aka the only Chem Barons who are left over and accosted during the raid) particularly bad. Because they are less relevant to the story, the whole stint therefore feels more like a personal vendetta against Jinx (which is ultimately is).

Furthermore, what about their goonies who get hurt and endangered in the process? Are they bad people? How many of them were somehow forced into working for the Chem Barons, because the options in the Undercity are simply extremely limited? Sevika dedicated herself to Silco, apparently out of conviction to his vision of a free Zaun. Does she deserve to be gassed? Does some random lackey deserve it who is just trying to feed their family? Are people who commit crimes out of socioeconomic distress exempt from the protection of their human rights???

And my biggest complaint: You cannot specifically target anyone with gas. It’s either gas or no gas. Anyone who is in the vicinity and does not happen to have a gas mask just lying around will be affected. Even leaving the streets and going inside wouldn’t really protect you. After all, how do ventilation systems work in Undercity houses? And don’t we know that, canonically, Enforcers really like to smash windows? So congratulations, Caitlyn, you just gassed some old lady who couldn’t afford to get her window replaced after your colleagues busted it in a while ago. She’s dead now.

And you might say, oh, but we don’t really get to see any of that, so it's just speculation. But, technically, we do see it. Namely, in the scene where they are gassing the abandoned arcade where Jinx happens to be. And they are looking for Jinx, so that’s real convenient. And of course it makes sense, Vi and her siblings used to hang out there, so of course she would suggest that they check out their old haunt. But you know what that means? Vi suggested that, without any sort of announcement, they should gas an abandoned arcade where children have been known to hang out. And then, when Cait hears a sound, she immediately starts firing bullets into the smoke.

This is also, and I cannot stress this enough, the time when Isha was following Jinx around. Isha could very well have been inside that arcade as well or out on the street where the Grey also would have been. Just because we are not shown this, doesn’t mean that the implication isn’t there.

And that is the problem with war crimes: They are considered war crimes because you don’t just harm the ones who are trying to harm you. When you drop a bomb on a building where a dangerous person lives, and there are a hundred other people in that building, then congratulations, you have hurt and probably killed one hundred innocent bystanders.

But within the story, the whole ordeal feels like a copaganda where the Enforcers are presented as cool and capable (badass montages set to upbeat music) who we are meant to root for and feel empathy for. Apart from Cait and Vi, the rest of the team also gets somewhat significant scenes and storylines throughout the rest of the season. Compare that with the only lackey we who gets actual dialogue in the whole raid scene: Heenot is presented as pretty pathetic from the moment he is introduced. In fact, he needs to be saved and freed by the Enforcers, who then proceed to arrest him. I bet he is hella grateful for that.

And that’s why Vi’s stint as an Enforcer has left such a bitter aftertaste. It’s only made worse by how they make it out to be about her having to pick between Jinx and Cait, which culminates in her not giving Jinx the deathblow once Isha gets involved and then Cait abandoning her. Vi then has her emo phase and becomes an Underground fighter, but it seems there are no direct consequences of what she did to the Undercity. There are no people who recognize her, no one from the general populace who calls her out on what she did. There’s a monument to her father in the center of the city that she decided to gas with her girlfriend, and somehow it's no big deal.

It would have been so much more fulfilling for Vi to try and interfere with Cait’s leadership outside of their confrontation with Jinx. For Vi to see what they are doing to her hometown and its people and to wake the fuck up. To take an actual stance within the overall story apart from just personal entanglements and grudges, which would also then mirror Jinx’s development as the reluctant hero of the Undercity.

Instead, we get relationship drama and war crimes that are brushed under the rug, and neither Caitlyn nor Vi ever have to face real direct consequences for what they did to the people of the Undercity WHO DESERVE TO BREATHE.

Yes, Arcane is just a story. But it is a story that, in Season 1, was about class conflict and oppression. It is also a story that, in Season 2, unfortunately perpetuates the same narratives we see in real life every day. A narrative of ‘us’ versus ‘them’ in which it's all about our good soldiers and cops and citizens versus that other group that, for some arbitrary reason, deserves less sympathy and protection.

[dumb-ster-fire]

Night Incarnate - Part 11

Azriel x OC

warnings: trauma, violence, abuse, blood

Summary: A deadly assassin and the elusive leader of Veilforged, Nyra delivers justice from the shadows, wielding starlight and darkness with lethal precision. Operating from Night's Refuge, she rescues the powerless and turns them into warriors. Whispers of her name spread through Prythian, but few know the truth-only that where justice fails, Night Incarnate rises.

Masterlist

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Rhysand’s violet eyes flickered with something unreadable at Kallias’s question. He did not answer immediately.

Azriel watched carefully, his shadows curling subtly around his shoulders as the silence stretched.

Thesan, ever composed, folded his hands before him and said mildly, “Perhaps the better question is—why does it matter?”

Several heads turned to him.

The Dawn Court’s High Lord smiled, serene but knowing. “Veilforged is not a war band, nor a kingdom seeking to claim land or power. They do what courts have failed to do for centuries—what even we, sitting here, have neglected. They do not seek war; they seek justice.”

Rhysand’s expression remained unreadable, but Feyre shifted slightly beside him, as if considering Thesan’s words.

It was Helion, lounging in his chair with effortless grace, who finally broke the thick silence.

“Justice?” he mused, golden eyes gleaming. “Or vengeance?”

Thesan met Helion’s gaze steadily. “Do you believe those who suffered in Hewn City, those left in the Illyrian camps, would care for the distinction?”

Helion chuckled, shaking his head. “Oh, I know better than to argue philosophy with you, Thesan.” He tilted his head toward Rhysand, his smirk widening. “But I must say, I do find it fascinating—how quickly some of us label a disruptor as a threat.”

“And yet you sit here, amused, as if you have no involvement.” Rhys’s voice was smooth, but there was a sharp edge beneath it.

Helion’s smirk only deepened. “Who said I had no involvement?”

A flicker of something crossed Rhysand’s face.

Azriel, careful to keep his expression neutral, took note of the way Helion’s golden fingers drummed lazily on the table—as if daring Rhys to push further.

Thesan merely sipped from his glass, his silence as revealing as Helion’s amusement.

Cassian leaned forward, his wings twitching. “So you admit it, then? That you aid them?”

Helion gave a lazy shrug. “I admit nothing, General.” He glanced at Thesan. “Though I imagine you, my dear friend, are far less inclined to deny it outright.”

Thesan smiled faintly, turning his gaze toward Rhysand. “You forget, Rhys, that Veilforged has saved many within my borders. My Healers have worked with them firsthand. They do not steal or pillage; they do not seek to control. They rescue those we were too late to help.” His brown eyes were steady, unwavering. “Would you call that a crime?”

The room was silent.

Nesta crossed her arms. “You’re all dancing around it. The question isn’t just whether they’re dangerous—it’s whether they’ll listen to you if you try to stop them.”

Helion chuckled. “Oh, darling, you assume they care what we have to say at all.”

Azriel exhaled slowly, his shadows whispering at his ear.

Because Helion was right.

Nyra—Night Incarnate—was not someone who would be controlled.

She did not kneel to High Lords.

And Helion, for all his cleverness, knew her.

In ways Azriel had no doubt were both political and… personal.

He tamped down the surge of something hot in his chest at the thought.

Rhysand’s gaze flickered toward Helion, cool and assessing. “You’ve shared her bed.”

A statement, not a question.

Helion’s golden eyes gleamed with wicked amusement. “What an interesting way to phrase it.”

Cassian choked on his wine. Mor’s brows shot up, and Feyre’s lips parted slightly in surprise. Even Tarquin, usually composed, looked mildly intrigued.

But Rhysand did not react further. He merely exhaled, as if unsurprised.

Helion tilted his head slightly. “Does that make her more of a threat in your eyes? Or does it merely irritate you that she’s beyond your reach?”

A muscle feathered in Rhysand’s jaw.

Thesan sighed, shaking his head at Helion’s amusement. “Must you always be so provoking?”

“Oh, I must,” Helion purred. “Especially when our dear friend Rhysand is faced with something he cannot control.”

Rhys’s expression remained unreadable, but Azriel knew him too well—knew that Rhys’s mind was already working through a dozen possibilities, through contingencies.

Because Helion and Thesan were not the only ones who knew Nyra.

He did, too.

And the knowledge was a quiet, unshakable weight in his chest.

The meeting continued, but Azriel barely heard it.

His shadows whispered Nyra’s name.

And for the first time, he did not know whether she was an ally…

Or something far more complicated.

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Azriel remained silent as the conversation in the High Lords’ meeting shifted to other matters—borders, trade, minor political disputes. But his mind remained fixed on her.

On Nyra.

Helion and Thesan had not outright admitted their allegiance to Veilforged, but they had not denied it either. That alone spoke volumes.

Azriel’s fingers twitched at his sides. He had spent centuries ensuring that no court, no faction, no entity operated in the shadows without his knowledge. And yet Veilforged had grown and thrived right under his nose. Right under Rhysand’s.

He had learned long ago that not all threats came in the form of armies.

Some came as whispers in the dark.

Some came as a lone figure standing at a grave, offering white astrantias to the wind.

His jaw tightened as the image of Nyra surfaced again. The way she had moved, the way their shadows had—

He forced himself to listen as Beron droned on about jurisdiction disputes. Azriel could feel Rhysand’s gaze flicking toward him, assessing, knowing.

His High Lord did not say anything, but Azriel knew this conversation was far from over.

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Nyra stood in the war room of Night’s Refuge, gazing over the map of Prythian spread across the large table. The room was dimly lit, her shadows curling lazily at the edges of the candlelight.

The latest mission had gone as planned—another ring of slavers dismantled, more victims freed.

And yet her thoughts were elsewhere.

Her fingers brushed the map absently, tracing the familiar borders of Night Court.

She had spent years ensuring that Veilforged remained unknown, unseen.

And now the High Lords were speaking of them in broad daylight.

Rhysand knows.

He would not move immediately—he would weigh his options, watch carefully. But he would move soon.

Nyra exhaled through her nose.

Let him.

Let him and his Inner Circle sit in their palaces, debating what she and her people already knew.

That change did not come from pretty speeches and political meetings.

It came from the blood they spilled in the dark, the lives they saved when no one else would.

A familiar presence entered the room.

She did not need to turn to know it was Sylus.

“You’re thinking too much again,” he said, his deep voice carrying across the space.

Nyra let out a low chuckle. “That’s what happens when High Lords finally decide to look past their own egos.”

Sylus leaned against the table beside her, arms crossed. His icy blue eyes gleamed in the dim light.

“They won’t stop now, you know. This is only the beginning.”

Nyra nodded. “I know.”

He was silent for a moment. Then—“And what about the Shadowsinger?”

Nyra’s hand stilled on the map.

Sylus tilted his head. “He followed you that night, didn’t he?”

Nyra didn’t answer.

Didn’t tell him about the way Azriel’s shadows had reached for hers, how they had melded in a way she had never felt before.

Sylus sighed, shaking his head. “You need to be careful with him.”

Nyra smirked. “Are you worried about me?”

“I’m worried about the fact that if you start playing with shadows, you might forget which ones belong to you.”

Nyra chuckled. “I never forget what’s mine.”

But Sylus’s warning lingered in the back of her mind long after he left the room.

Because deep down, she already knew—

Azriel’s shadows were not something she could ignore.

Not anymore.

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Azriel stood at the balcony of the House of Wind, staring out over Velaris as the stars began to emerge in the sky. The city below was peaceful, quiet—so unlike the war raging in his thoughts.

Nyra.

He had followed her that night, unseen, unnoticed. Or so he had thought.

The way her shadows had curled around his, how they had melded together as if they had been waiting for that moment—it had shaken him. Shadows were an extension of his soul, his essence, and yet… hers had welcomed them.

He had spent centuries alone in his darkness.

And now there was her.

A force just as unrelenting, just as sharp and deadly. A ghost in the night who had already accomplished what the Night Court had barely begun to attempt.

Rhysand and the others could debate all they wanted about Veilforged’s methods. They could question whether she was friend or foe.

Azriel was certain of only one thing.

Nyra was real.

She was not a whisper, not a myth. She was flesh and blood and steel, a storm wrapped in a woman’s form.

And he had never been more drawn to someone in his life.

He had spent centuries believing his shadows belonged only to him.

But that night, for the first time, they had reached for another.

And he did not know what to do with that truth.

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Nyra stood at the training grounds, arms crossed as she observed the new recruits sparring.

The Veils had grown significantly in the past few years, their ranks expanding as more and more lost souls found their way to Night’s Refuge. Many of them were Illyrians who had fled the war camps, others were former servants of Hewn City, discarded by the nobility after years of abuse. And then there were those who had simply been forgotten by the world—left to fend for themselves.

Veilforged had given them purpose. She had given them purpose.

A sharp clash of steel rang through the air, drawing her attention back to the sparring circle.

Dravien, standing beside her, let out a low whistle. “You think that one will last a week?”

Nyra smirked, watching as one of the recruits barely managed to block a strike. “Depends on whether they learn to keep their feet under them.”

Dravien chuckled, shaking his head. “You know, I still can’t believe the great Rhysand and his court finally decided to acknowledge us publicly.”

Nyra snorted. “Took them long enough.”

Kyra approached them then, arms folded. “You think they’ll try something?”

Nyra considered that.

Rhysand was careful. Calculating. He wouldn’t strike without being certain of what he was dealing with.

But she had seen the way he looked at her.

The way Azriel had looked at her.

It was only a matter of time before they came knocking again.

“Let them come,” she said at last.

Dravien grinned. “Now that’s the Nyra I know.”

But Kyra, ever the strategist, narrowed her gaze. “Be careful, Nyra. This is uncharted territory.”

Nyra only smiled, glancing up at the night sky.

Uncharted territory?

Perhaps.

But she had spent her whole life carving a path through the darkness.

And she wasn’t about to stop now.

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The warmth of the River House was a stark contrast to the lingering tension in the air. The Inner Circle lounged in the sitting room, the fire crackling in the hearth, drinks in hand, yet the conversation kept circling back to the same topic.

Veilforged.

Nyra.

Feyre leaned against Rhysand on the couch, her fingers idly tracing patterns along his forearm. “She was… not what I expected.”

Mor scoffed, swirling her wine in her glass. “You mean you expected some shadowy monster, and instead you got someone just as sharp-tongued as you?”

Cassian chuckled from his seat, one arm slung over the back of the couch, but his gaze flickered toward Azriel, who had been uncharacteristically quiet these days since their return from Night’s Refuge.

Nesta, nestled beside Cassian, merely hummed. “She’s not wrong, though.”

Amren, perched in her usual chair, tilted her head. “Oh?”

Nesta met her silver gaze. “Rhysand has had centuries to fix the war camps. And yet she managed to pull Illyrians out and give them something better without all the political maneuvering.”

Silence fell over the room at that.

Rhys sighed, rubbing his temples. “It’s not that simple.”

“It never is,” Amren murmured, sipping her wine. “But that doesn’t change the fact that she has done what you haven’t.”

Rhysand exhaled sharply, but said nothing.

Elain, who had been listening quietly from her chair near the window, finally spoke. “She saved people from Hewn City too, didn’t she?” Her delicate brows furrowed. “I thought no one could escape from there.”

Azriel’s jaw tightened.

He had thought the same.

Rhys nodded. “That’s what makes her dangerous.”

Mor scoffed again. “Dangerous? Or just inconvenient?”

Rhys shot her a look. “You don’t think she’s a risk?”

Mor shrugged. “She could be. But she hasn’t made a move against us.” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “And I hate to say it, Rhys, but I like her.”

Cassian snorted. “I do too.”

Rhys looked around the room, clearly realizing he was in the minority. He sighed again, running a hand through his hair.

Azriel had yet to say a word.

He felt their eyes flick toward him, waiting.

Feyre’s voice was soft. “Az?”

He didn’t look up from where he sat in the corner, shadows curling lazily around his fingers.

He had spent years believing his shadows belonged to him alone.

Nyra had unraveled that in a single night.

His shadows had sought her out—welcomed her, twined with hers like they had always known her.

Azriel had never felt anything like it.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low.

“She is not our enemy.”

Rhysand’s gaze sharpened. “You’re sure?”

Azriel’s hazel eyes lifted, calm but unwavering.

“Yes.”

Rhys studied him for a long moment. Then, eventually, he sighed, reclining back into the couch.

“Then we wait.”

Feyre frowned. “For what?”

Rhysand smirked, though there was something dark in his expression.

“For her to come to us.”

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Azriel sat in the quiet of his chambers at the House of Wind, staring at the flickering candlelight on his desk. The conversation at the River House still echoed in his mind.

For her to come to us.

Rhys was right—Nyra would come to them eventually. The question was when. And why.

His fingers tapped absently against the wood. His shadows curled around him, restless. Not whispering, not warning. Just… lingering. Like they were waiting for something.

Or someone.

He exhaled slowly, rubbing his temples.

Nyra had unraveled everything he thought he understood about his own power. His shadows had never moved with another person like that. Never responded so naturally, so instinctively, to anyone but him.

Not even—

He cut the thought off before it could form.

It didn’t matter.

What mattered was that Nyra existed in a world of gray, where Rhysand still wanted to see black and white.

What mattered was that she had done what no one else had, and she had done it without asking permission.

What mattered was the way she moved, the way she fought, the way she wielded her shadows like they had always been part of her—like she had always been part of them.

And what mattered most of all—

Azriel clenched his jaw.

He couldn’t get her out of his head.

Not the way she had met his gaze as they sparred.

Not the way time had felt like it had stopped when she leapt mid-air, their faces inches apart, his breath catching for reasons he did not want to name.

Not the way her presence had felt like the other half of something he had been missing his whole gods-damned life.

He scowled at the candlelight, then blew it out.

He needed to sleep.

Needed to stop thinking about her.

Needed to—

His shadows twined around his wrist. A whisper in his ear.

Azriel stilled.

His shadows never spoke to him about someone like this.

But now?

Now, they whispered her name.

Over. And over. And over.

As if calling her to him.

Or worse—

As if she was already near.

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

Azriel remained perfectly still, listening.

The House of Wind was silent, save for the faint whistle of wind through the mountains. His shadows curled tighter, their whispers pressing against his skin. Not a warning. Not danger.

Something else.

Something he didn’t know how to name.

Slowly, he rose from his chair, stepping toward the balcony. The night stretched out before him, Velaris glowing softly below. The stars burned bright overhead, but his eyes were drawn to the shadows lingering at the edge of the rooftop.

Empty darkness to anyone else.

But he knew better.

Azriel’s fingers brushed the hilt of Truth-Teller at his side as he leaned against the railing, waiting. If she was here, she would reveal herself on her own terms. She would not appreciate being chased.

Minutes passed.

And then—

A shimmer. A flicker of movement, barely perceptible, as if the night itself had shifted.

And she was there.

Nyra stood at the edge of the rooftop, her long white hair catching the moonlight, her pale green eyes glowing faintly in the dark. She was wrapped in shadows, her form nearly blending into the night itself.

She had not come through the wards. Had not tripped a single alarm.

Even knowing what she was capable of, Azriel felt something tighten in his chest.

She had gotten this close without anyone knowing.

Had she wanted him to notice?

She studied him in return, her expression unreadable. Then, with a graceful step, she moved closer. Not too close—she still kept space between them, but it was a silent acknowledgment. A choice to let him see her.

Azriel’s voice was quiet when he finally spoke.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

A slow smirk curled her lips. “Pleasure? Interesting choice of words, Shadowsinger.”

His throat bobbed, but he kept his expression neutral. “You’ve come a long way just to tease me.”

Nyra tilted her head slightly, her eyes flickering as if she were debating something. And then she spoke, her voice softer now. “Your shadows called me.”

Azriel stiffened.

His shadows curled around his wrists, like they were reaching for hers.

Nyra’s own shadows swirled at her feet, responding in kind.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, she stepped even closer, until only inches separated them.

Azriel’s breath slowed.

Nyra’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“Tell me, Shadowsinger… is it you that wants me here?”

Or is it them?

The unspoken words hung between them like an unsheathed blade.

Azriel didn’t answer.

Couldn’t.

Because he didn’t know the answer himself.

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Azriel stared down at her, the space between them razor-thin. The night was silent, as if the entire world held its breath. Her question hung in the air, waiting.

Is it you that wants me here?

His shadows swirled wildly, brushing against hers, their dark tendrils tangling together like lovers’ fingers entwining in secret. A connection formed in the quiet—a silent, undeniable truth.

Nyra searched his face, her pale green eyes glinting with something unreadable. Waiting for his answer.

Azriel exhaled slowly. “Does it matter?”

A soft, knowing smirk. “It should.”

Azriel didn’t move, didn’t let himself react. But his body betrayed him—the way his shadows curled, the way his fingers twitched at his sides, aching to reach for her.

Nyra hummed, watching him with a piercing gaze. “You fight it.”

Azriel clenched his jaw.

Of course he did.

Because this was dangerous. Because she was dangerous. Because he could not afford to let himself—

Her fingers brushed against his forearm.

Barely a touch. A whisper of contact.

His shadows darkened, wrapping around her fingertips like they were drinking her in.

Azriel inhaled sharply.

Her smirk widened, but there was something else beneath it—curiosity, fascination. A question she wasn’t speaking aloud.

Would he step back?

Would he pull away?

Or would he let this happen?

Azriel didn’t move.

Didn’t break the moment.

And Nyra, watching him closely, slowly ran her fingers up his forearm. The barest graze of her touch, yet it sent heat curling beneath his skin.

A test. A taunt. A question all at once.

Azriel’s voice was rough when he finally spoke. “Why are you here, Nyra?”

Her fingers stilled, resting lightly on his arm.

For a long moment, she said nothing.

Then, her smirk faded, and her expression turned serious. “I wanted to see if you’d follow them.”

His brows furrowed. “Follow who?”

Nyra looked down at where their shadows had tangled together. “Them.”

Azriel stiffened.

His shadows.

Hers.

Blending, moving as if they were extensions of the same force.

He’d never seen anything like it. Not with anyone.

He swallowed hard. “And if I do?”

Nyra’s gaze flicked back up to his, and there was something darkly amused in her eyes. “Then you might just find out why they whisper my name.”

Before he could speak, before he could even fully process what she’d just said, she was gone.

A flicker of movement. A swirl of shadows.

Vanished into the night.

Azriel’s shadows recoiled, shivering as if they ached from the loss of her presence.

He stood there for a long time, staring at the empty space where she had been.

And for the first time in centuries, Azriel realized—

His shadows had never led him astray.

Not once.

And now, they were leading him to her.

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Nyra moved through the night like a whisper, her steps soundless, her body merging with the darkness as if she had never been there at all. Yet, no matter how far she went, no matter how many rooftops she vaulted across, she could still feel it.

The pull.

The lingering touch of his shadows entwined with hers.

Nyra exhaled sharply, landing gracefully atop an abandoned tower, the cool wind tugging at her hair. She had felt it before—this strange, magnetic force whenever the Shadowsinger was near—but tonight had been different.

Tonight, it had been undeniable.

Her own shadows still swirled restlessly, reacting to something unseen, something new. They had never behaved this way with anyone else. Never reached for another’s presence. Never tangled and melded as if they belonged with something—someone—else.

But his had.

Azriel’s shadows had called to her, had reached for hers like they recognized something in her darkness.

Like they knew.

Nyra clenched her fists, trying to steady her breathing.

She was no stranger to attraction. To heat. To something more flickering beneath the surface of a shared glance, a lingering touch. But this? This was different.

This was dangerous.

Because it wasn’t just about desire—it was something deeper. Something older.

Her mother had once told her, Shadowheart, the stars weave fate in threads unseen, binding souls long before they meet.

Nyra had scoffed at the idea back then.

She wasn’t scoffing now.

The way her shadows had moved—instinctual, unthinking, willing—when they had been near his… It was unnatural. It was unheard of.

It was as if, for a fleeting moment, their darkness had become one.

She had seen the way Azriel had looked at her when he realized it, too. Not just in surprise, but in understanding. In recognition.

Nyra pressed a hand to her chest, where her heart still beat too fast.

She had spent centuries avoiding things she couldn’t control.

And yet, she had not moved away when he had stayed close. Had not recoiled when his shadows had coiled around her fingers. Had not stopped herself from testing him—seeing if he would follow where this led.

But now…

Now she wasn’t sure she was ready to follow it.

The stars above seemed to mock her with their distant, unchanging light.

Nyra exhaled, shaking her head as she turned away.

Whatever this thing between them was, whatever the shadows were trying to whisper to them both—

She wasn’t ready to listen.

Not yet.

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taglist: @fuckingsimp4azriel , @paige0103 (dm or comment to be added to the taglist)