#since my blog is hidden the tags will be the same

[petrovna-zamo]

I have so many pics & videos queued up get ready 

[alltimefail]

Agency Assignments: A comprehensive to-do list for saving Dead Boy Detectives!

I'm very easily overwhelmed, so I wanted to break down all the ways to help "Save Dead Boy Detectives" that I have seen floating around. This is meant to be something you can reference when you feel like there is so much you need and want to do to help, but don't know how or where to start.

Note: I will be updating this post as we go when necessary, so feel free to bookmark it in your browser for easy access, add it to your homepage, whatever! I'll always have a link to it in my Pinned Navigation post on my blog as well!

It is of the utmost importance that we fight as an organized, well-informed front. We need to be on the same page if we're going to save our show, so let's get into it! 💜💀🔎

➪ First and foremost, follow @savethedeadboys! They're going to be our best resource during this fight.

➪ Next, follow @deadboyagency for news and updates: they've been around since the show dropped and have been an invaluable source of information the entire time.

Now for some task breakdowns:

"One-Time" Tasks

➪ Like the header says, these things can only be done once. Once you do them, you don't have to give them any space in your mind.

Sign the petition*

Review & Rate Dead Boy Detectives on Google, IMDB, Rotten Tomatoes. Be sure on IMDB you don't just rate the show as a whole, but you also rate each individual episode! You can also "Like" the show on Google and click "Watched" which helps the show's engagement scores. (If there are other popular sites I haven't listed here, feel free to share them and rate Dead Boy Detectives highly on them!)

Notify Netflix customer service (through their online chat feature) that you're unhappy with the cancelation of Dead Boy Detectives. This is a short, 5-minute task that I wrote a guide on (with an example message) here!

"Repeat" Tasks:

➪ These tasks can become a part of your daily routine; do what works best for you! You don't have to do every single one of these tasks every day if that is overwhelming!

Share the petition* over and over again, on every one of your socials! Make everyone you love sign it!

Stream Dead Boy Detectives!* Keep it on a loop in the background on low volume as much as possible. Try to get others to stream it as well, especially if they haven't watched it before! Netflix cares about VIEWS: views save shows and I broke down the reasoning here. (Bonus: if you post over on Twitter about your rewatch, use the tag #ReviveDeadBoyDetectives)

Talk about Dead Boy Detectives!* You're probably doing that already, but just be sure that you're tagging your posts. Here on Tumblr use the "Dead Boy Detectives" tag at least (to boost our tag to trending) and anywhere that uses hashtags (Twitter, Facebook, Instagram for example) I would recommend #SaveDeadBoyDetectives and #DeadBoyDetectives as those seem to be the most commonly used tags! IMPORTANT: do not use more than 20 tags here on Tumblr! Any more than 20 and your posts might be marked as spam and hidden from the tags!

Create art, edits for TikTok, fics, gif sets, doodles, crafts, analysis posts, and so on for Dead Boy Detectives.* Having fun is important, too! This is an extension of the "Talk about Dead Boy Detectives" point, but it needs to be stated - don't remove the joy from the fight. If a drawing of our boys or a smutty fic with your favorite trickster cat king is what you can bring to the fight on any given day, that is a perfectly valuable contribution! It's not all emails and hashtags.

Daily request a show through Netflix. Bonus if you're signed in! (I do 3-5 times a day)

Send Emails advocating for Dead Boy Detectives (Email list & Email Template). You can do this as much as you want or just one time.

Send Snail-mail (physical letters) to Netflix advocating for Dead Boy Detectives. I also send a copy of my letters to Warner Bros. Studios. Again, you can do this one time or multiple times. There are dates set aside for "mass" mail sending as well, so check out info on that here!

Interact with articles posted about Dead Boy Detectives. Read them, share them, comment on them, thank the writer for writing them, etc. We want lots of press about the cancellation, and supporting journalists and publications will make them want to write about Dead Boy Detectives more.

NOTE: Anything marked with a * means it's extremely important; if you can only do a few things, these tasks are the ones that you should focus on first. Remember to take care of yourself. This is a marathon, not a sprint, so don't burn yourself out!

WE WILL SAVE THIS SHOW.

Say that to yourself as many times as it takes for you to believe it. We're doing this to get justice for the writers, the actors, for ourselves, and assert to these companies that diverse, queer stories are not disposable one-offs; they deserve to be told in full!

Hugs and Handshakes to you all - whatever will suffice. 💜 Always feel free to reach out if you have any questions, whether that be through private message or my ask box. I'm not going anywhere!

- V

[novaursa]

Hello

I was thinking about something, what if rhaenyra didn’t take the moon tea after sleeping with Criston. She fell pregnant of a girl and since she also had brown curly hair the green think she was harwin’s.

Since she the heir of Rhaenyra, Viserys betrothed her to Aemond. And obviously they slept together.

And you know the scene between Aemond and Criston the night of blood and cheese? Like Aemond says something to see Criston about her, like she had a birthmark maybe and in fact it’s exactly the same as Criston (in an hidden place) and he finally understands that it’s his daughter

I have so much idea with this plot like the hidden daughter of Rheanyra and Criston, I can stop thinking about it..

Blood Unseen

- Summary: Your husband, Aemond, reveals to Cole something that shifts his entire world on its axis.

- Paring: assumed wife!reader/Aemond Targaryen, (daughter) reader/(father) Criston Cole (platonic)

- Note: For more of my works, visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

The dim light of the flickering candles cast long shadows across the chamber, the heavy curtains drawn tight against the cold night outside. Criston Cole stood tall, his arms crossed over his chest, listening intently as Aemond Targaryen spoke. The conversation had drifted from the matters of court, to tactics, to the war that loomed over them like a dark cloud. The flicker of unease was there in both men’s words, unspoken but shared. These were perilous times, and every move was a game of life and death. 

Criston, ever the dutiful knight, maintained his stoic expression, eyes trained on the prince. Aemond paced the room, his hands clasped behind his back, the familiar sway of his silver hair catching the dim light. There was something different about this evening though. Aemond's tone carried a weight that went beyond war. 

“It's curious,” Aemond said, his voice cool and calculated as he stopped mid-step. His single eye, sharp and piercing, regarded Criston with the kind of intensity that always set him on edge. “You have a birthmark, do you not?”

Criston’s brow furrowed slightly at the sudden turn of conversation. “I do,” he replied cautiously, unsure where this was leading. He had little care for such trivial matters, certainly not with the tension thickening the air. 

Aemond approached him slowly, the faint smirk curling at the edges of his lips. “A peculiar one, I’ve noticed. Right here,” he said, tapping a finger against the area just above his hip, through the fabric of his tunic. “Almost shaped like a dragon’s tail, or so it would seem.”

Criston nodded, still unsure of Aemond’s purpose in this revelation. “What of it, my prince?” 

Aemond’s smirk deepened, and he tilted his head, the eye patch he wore gleaming in the low light. “Y/N has one too, you know.”

The mention of your name sent a shiver through Criston, but he kept his composure. “My princess does?” His voice remained calm, though he could feel something stirring beneath the surface. He had served you for years now, ever watchful, ever loyal, but never had he paid heed to such intimate details.

Aemond’s eye gleamed as he continued. “Just below her breast. The same exact mark. The resemblance, Cole… it’s uncanny.” His words were slow, deliberate, as if savoring the weight of them.

Criston blinked, the revelation settling like a stone in his gut. A flicker of confusion crossed his face, quickly masked, but it wasn’t fast enough. Aemond saw it, and the corner of his mouth twitched knowingly.

The room fell into an oppressive silence. Criston’s mind raced, pieces of a long-forgotten puzzle snapping into place. The resemblance—the dark curls, the sharpness of your gaze. For years, he had believed, like so many others, that you were just another Strong bastard, the child of Harwin. It had made sense, your features mirroring the late knight’s in subtle ways. But now, Aemond’s words clung to him like a curse, dredging up memories of fleeting moments he had long buried.

He remembered your birth, Rhaenyra’s secretive smile when she introduced you to him as her firstborn. The way her eyes lingered on him, as if daring him to acknowledge something he couldn’t. But he hadn’t, not then. How could he?

The mark. It had been there all along, a sign that he had been blind to.

Aemond’s voice sliced through his thoughts, the faintest hint of amusement coloring his tone. “Do you understand now, Ser Criston?”

Criston’s heart pounded in his chest, a rising dread filling him as realization dawned. You were not Harwin Strong’s. No, you were his. His blood, his daughter. The child of his brief and forbidden encounter with Rhaenyra all those years ago. A moment of weakness, of passion, and now, the living proof stood before him every day, a reminder of a secret he never knew he had carried.

Criston’s body tensed, his jaw clenched as he fought to keep his voice steady. “Does… she know?”

Aemond’s smirk faded into something darker, more calculating. “If she does, she has kept it well hidden, as has Rhaenyra. But you, Cole… you’ve been oblivious all this time. How fitting that I should be the one to enlighten you.”

Criston felt the weight of those words. Aemond reveled in this, enjoyed watching him unravel. His fists clenched at his sides, the reality of it all crashing down around him. You were his daughter. And all this time, he had been nothing more than your sworn protector, ignorant of the blood that tied him to you.

But now, what did it mean? You were wed to Aemond years ago, promised by the late king Viserys to unite the two halves of the family. The Greens had accepted you because they believed you to be another Strong bastard, another means to a political end. But now… now Criston could see that Aemond knew the truth, and that truth gave him power.

“Why tell me this now?” Criston asked, his voice low, strained.

Aemond regarded him with a cold, measured look. “Because, Ser Criston, I thought you should know what’s at stake before everything… changes.”

Criston stared at him, the unspoken threat hanging between them. The game they played had shifted. Bloodlines, loyalties, the tangled web of duty and secrets—it was all spiraling into something far more dangerous. He had served the Greens faithfully, had believed in their cause, but now, with this knowledge… everything felt uncertain.

Aemond’s gaze lingered for a moment longer before he turned, heading toward the door. “Do think on it, Ser Criston. After all, blood is thicker than water, as they say.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving Criston alone in the darkened chamber, his thoughts swirling in a tempest of revelation, regret, and uncertainty.

[shomatoriashi]

formerly jinwoosungs

hello! my name’s rei and this is my new blog. i just felt the need for a new start, hence why you’ll see me over here. i didn’t wish to change my url again, so if you’d like to follow me here, then you’re free to do so (⺣◡⺣)♡

this post will serve as my masterlist, and it’ll make my page appear much neater! thank you so much for supporting my works and i look forward to writing brand new stories for this blog!

theme is best viewed in goth / rave pallete !!

all banners are made by @/cafekitsune !!

original blog: @sylusjinwoon | sylusjinwoon

past urls: jinwoosungs

free palestine

sung jinwoo mini masterlist

update as of 9/9/24: please don’t tag me in any stories / posts unless we’re mutuals or close friends. i only appreciate tags with stories that i’m actively reading or am invested in. if you wish to tag me in anything, send me an ask, first. this is to keep my notifications in check, and i would greatly appreciate it!

♡ before you follow + masterlist below the cut:

know that i am a very active writer! i write a lot to help me destress and vent about my day in the form of inserts that my readers can enjoy, so if you don’t like constant updates, don’t follow this blog.

i tend to change my url often, depending on the fandom i’m currently hyperfixated on! but before i change my urls, i’ll always make a post about it and mention my old url here in this pinned post. if url changes annoy you, then i won’t be offended if you decide to not follow me / unfollow me. however! just know that even if my url changes, the way i format my stories will forever remain the same!

i’m most comfortable with writing for female readers since that’s what i identify my gender with, and i will always do my best to keep my readers like a blank slate so that all different ethnicities can enjoy my works! if i slip up and you see a detail that doesn’t apply to you, send me an ask or reply to that specific story, and i’ll fix it!

ALWAYS ASK FOR PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE MY WORKS AND ALWAYS CREDIT MY ORIGINAL POST IF I ALLOW IT!

i’m welcome to any feedback for my writings, be it to talk about something you readers enjoyed, or some criticism about any concerns you may have (like a character is too ooc, awkward grammar / lack of flow)

i do post some nsfw writings, and i ask that only readers who are 18+ interact with them! be mindful of my warnings and avoid certain stories that i post that may not be suitable for you. my stories are always hidden beneath a - readmore -, but if you choose to click on it and read my works, then the content you consume is on you now.

please don’t interact if you’re transphobic / don’t support the lgbtq+ community, support p-dophelia, or are racist. i don’t wish to receive any hurtful messages that speak down to anyone, and if such a message is sent to me, it will be an automatic block from me.

latest works:

10/24/24; 06:33pm - LADS men

10/26/24; 06:50pm - bllk; rin + sae itoshi

10/27/24; 03:30pm - bllk; rin, sae, yoichi, meguru

10/28/24; 02:12pm - sung jinwoo

10/30/24; 05:23pm - itoshi rin

10/31/24; 06:45pm - 18+; LADS men

11/01/24; 06:50pm - bllk; rin, sae, seishiro, ryusei

11/03/24; 06:20pm - 18+; sylus

writing tag

[corrodedbisexual]

The ultimate shadow ban survivor guide

I've seen multiple people I follow, or their mutuals affected by shadow bans lately (makes me wonder if it's @staff's attempts to fight bots going totally haywire). As someone who survived a 2-month-long shadow ban on my main this winter, I thought I'd make a post.

First step of being shadow banned: calm down and take a breath. A shadow ban is just a stupid glitch in tumblr's anti-spam system. You're not losing your blog. You're gonna need a whole lot of patience, and deal with inconveniences, but it's fixable.

Read the incredibly useful post All About Shadowban by @that-damn-girl. It outlines the symptoms quite well. The only thing I'd point out is "your original posts won’t be visible to your followers either" - afaik that doesn't happen. Everything you post and reblog will still be visible to your followers, and also they can interact with your posts - like them, reblog them, reply to them.

Just like the post says, contact support. I recommend using a different email than what your banned blog is registered to; not because your ticket won't go through (mine actually did, as I found out when they finally replied), but because you might not receive an email confirmation for your ticket (it's somehow tied to the anti-spam thing, I think), and you're going to worry and try to send more tickets, like I did.

Now wait. And wait, and wait, and wait. They are SLOW. I've seen some miraculous 1-day unbans in the #shadow ban tag, but most people, like me, wait around a month for support to reply. Those are the same guys going through thousands of bot reports every day in addition to user tickets.

If you're going to wait, might as well keep blogging. Now if this is your sideblog that's shadow banned, consider yourself lucky. Make a new temporary sideblog, use it to post your original stuff so it goes into tags (mind that it might take a few days for a new blog to start showing up in tags). Reblog everything to your shadow banned blog so you still have all content in one place and your followers see it. If it's your main that's banned, you can still do that, but there's the extra pain of not being able to reply to posts or send non-anon Asks, since that is only done from main. Might need to register a separate account for that.

Some more fun facts under readmore.

Fun fact #1

Trying to send support follow-up emails in the request confirmation email isn't going to do anything to speed up the process. But I did tweet at them using this tumblr support summoning picture by @cornmayor and offered a raccoon blood sacrifice to resolve my issue when it was like a month with no response. This is what they replied.

3 hours later I got an email that my shadowban was lifted. I honestly don't know if it was a coincidence, but I mean, this is tumblr staff. Maybe they do accept blood sacrifices.

Fun fact #2

If you're wondering why my shadow ban lasted 2 months if I got a support reply after 1 month, well. It's hard to say exactly how their ban/unban system works bc support replies exclusively with pre-written template sentences, but basically they fucked up. The first time they told me my blog has been restored, I gained pretty much all functions back, except that my posts were still not appearing in tags. Which means probably that being hidden from tags is some kind of different flag on your blog that they forgot to remove. So I had to send a follow-up ticket and wait another month.

My advice is, when they tell you it's fixed, don't take that at face value, go and check all the functions you'd lost (replies, messaging, asks, tagging, appearing in notes, getting mentioned by others).

[petalruesimblr]

Phantom's Keep

Sim File Share (currently slow due to Simblreen traffic. I will upload a few days after the event so check my Downloads page for updates.) Dropbox

Welcome to Phantom's Keep, where the only thing spookier than the décor is your Sims' cooking skills! This charming little castle boasts one bedroom for all your witchy needs and a secret door that leads straight to the potion pantry - because who needs a grocery store when you have bat wings and eye of newt? Perfect for those late-night spellcasting sessions, just watch out for the occasional ghostly roommate. Get ready for a Halloween treat that’s simply to die for!

Price Furnished: 131,371 Price Unfurnished: 62,298 Lot Size: 20x30 Lot Type: Residential Store Content: Click here CC Used: Click here File Type: Package Min. Required Game Version: 1.42 Packs Needed: The Sims 3, World Adventures, Pets (Wallpaper), Generations (Wallpaper and Stairs), Late Night and Seasons

Hello and welcome back to my blog!

As a final treat for this year's Simblreen (@simblreenofficial), I'm excited to share a house inspired by the spirit of the season! While the name of this lot may be a nod to Danny Phantom, unfortunately it isn't a replica of Pariah's Keep. Instead, it's designed to be a home fit for a modern-ish witch and I've included as many Halloween-themed CC items as I could.

I had a lot of fun building it and I hope you enjoy exploring it! If you missed the first and second treats, click the #Simblreen tag to check them out.

Click on the ’Keep Reading’ below for more information and pictures on this lot.

I’ve been considering getting the Supernatural expansion pack but something has always held me back into doing it and working on this house has made that temptation even stronger. Since I don’t have the pack, all witch-related objects are purely decorative. You can replace them with Supernatural objects like cauldrons, wands, etc. which can be stored in the hidden witches' potion pantry in the tower.

As a reminder, 📣 please note that the store content and CC included in the lot are not included on the download file. The lot may seem a bit sparse from above based on the floor plan pictures but this includes around 79 CCs. These are not required and will be automatically replaced in the game but if you want it to look the same as in the pictures, you can always go to my WCIF Navigation page, where I’ve compiled a list for those interested in downloading them separately.

I placed three fog emitters outside the house to create an eerie atmosphere, especially at night and as long as your game is patched to 1.42 or higher then you won’t need the Ambitions expansion pack for this to be available. However, the Generations and Pets expansion pack are required due to the build items used in the lot as stated in the Details section above.

If you want to check and/or remove the fog emitters, enable “testingcheatsenabled true” and “buydebug on” after.

This lot has been play-tested and let me know if you experience any problems on your end!

[lutiaslayton]

Did someone ask for more scans? No? Too bad, have more scans.

Emmy's letter to Professor Layton, post-Curious Village. The fabled letter, which can only be accessed properly if you rip open your copy of the Japan-exclusive Azran Legacy Guidebook (more or less).

Years ago, there were photos and a fan-translation floating around on tumblr. Now, I give you the new and high quality version, as well as a full transcript. You're welcome :>

It's been literally eight years since your post, but since your tags say that you wanted to be warned if a better scan were to be made, well... Here you go @puzzilitis x) I'm also tagging @the-azran-legacies, but I'm pretty sure your blog is completely dead since this translation post seems to be its latest sign of activity, and that was ten years ago.

Seriously though, just in case you get to see this -- thank you both so much for what you did all these years ago. Without your posts, I might never even have heard that this letter existed in the first place! Or, well, I likely would have heard of it by now given the fact that I've been documenting every single Layton media I can find -- but I would have lived through an entire decade of ignorance by that point.

The translation below has been done exclusively with DeepL because my free time is limited, sorry for that ^^' If you want another one in order to compare, you have the one linked above, and I will likely make another one later (much later).

みんなのエピソード２１｜レミからの手紙

Everybody's Episode 21: A Letter from Emmy

親愛なるレイトン教授へ Dear Professor Layton,

あれから数か月になりますが、教授、お元気ですか？ It's been a few months since then. Professor, how are you?

一緒に仕事をしている仲間からレイトン教授が遺産相続騒動を解決したという話を耳にして思わず手紙を書いてしまいました。 When I heard from a colleague I work with that you had solved an inheritance dispute, I couldn't resist writing to you.

タージェントから世界を救ったあのレイトン教授が単なる遺産相続のナゾトキの依頼を引き受けるなんて。まさか…と思いましたが、ナゾには目がない教授ですし、きっと知的好奇心を刺激される不思議な出来事だったんでしょうね。 How could the very same Professor Layton who had saved the world from Targent, now accept a mere inheritance puzzle request? I could not believe it… But you always had a penchant for puzzles, so I am certain that it had to be a mysterious event which truly stimulated your intellectual curiosity.

ルークはしっかりと役目を果たせたでしょうか？ Has Luke fulfilled his role well?

実は…私はいま、ワールドタイムズでカメラマンをしています。教授の活躍を教えてくれた仕事仲間って、ボストニアス号で世界を旅したときに出会ったドリスさんなんですよ。 By the way... I am now a photographer for the World Times. The colleague who told me about your activities is Doris. We met her when we were travelling around the world on the Bostonius.

教授のもとを去ってから私がワールドタイムズで働き始めたきっかけは、教授との旅がとても楽しかったから。 I started working for the World Times after I quit my job as your assistant, since I enjoyed the journey with you so much.

世界各地でのいろんな人との出会い、見る者を虜にする美しい景色…。それを世界中の人々に伝えたい、いっしかそんな気持ちになって、自然とワールドタイムズ編集部に足を運んでいました。 Meeting all kinds of people in different parts of the world, finding beautiful and captivating landscapes… I wanted to tell people all over the world about these experiences, and this is how I naturally came to visit the World Times editorial office.

今の仕事は、本当に楽しいです！ I really enjoy my current job!

ムスロッホでリボの滝と鍾乳洞の取材をしていたら、長老のシメジイさんから気になるうわさ話を聞いたんです。 While I was reporting for the Ribo Waterfalls and the limestone caves of Musloch, I heard interesting rumours from the elder, Mr Simejii.

そんな話を聞いたら、調査をするしかありませんよね！ After hearing such a story, I simply could not resist investigating!

村人たちの情報を頼りに鍾乳洞の奥を突き進んでいったら…幻の｢神秘の密林｣を発見しました！ After going deeper into the limestone caves, by relying on the information the villagers gave me… The fabled "Mystical Jungle" has been discovered!

ワールドタイムズの大スクープとして一面に大きく取り上げられたので教授もご存知かもしれませんが、これは私の初スクープなんですよ。 You may have already known of it since it was featured as huge news on the front page of the World Times, but this was my first scoop.

記事には書きませんでしたが、密林の奥には古代遺跡が隠されていました。 We did not mention it in the article, but there were ancient ruins hidden deep in the jungle.

ここにもたくさんのナゾが隠されているはずなので、いつか教授にナゾを解いてもらいたいなぁ。 There must be a lot of puzzles hidden there. I hope you will solve them one day.

もしかして、アスラント文明とは別の考古学史上に残る大発見がある…かも？ Maybe there is another major discovery in the history of archaeology that is unrelated to the Azran civilisation… maybe?

そんなスクープを追いかけて世界中を飛び回る毎日ですが、いま追いかけているのは、スラム街に現れた｢ナゾのマスク男｣です。この話、知的好奇心をくすぐられませんか？ I spend my days travelling around the world, chasing this kind of scoop. What I am chasing now is a "Puzzling Masked Man" who has appeared in the slum quarters. Doesn't this story tickle your intellectual curiosity?

お金持ちから金品を盗み、スラム街の子供たちにお金を与える���代の義賊｢マスク男｣。 The Masked Man is a modern-day righteous bandit who steals money and goods from the rich and gives it to the children in the slums.

最初は、この｢マスク男の正体｣をスクープするためカメラ片手に追いかけていましたが、スラム街の子供たちを見ているうちに、１人の記者としてそこに暮らす人々の現状もじっくりと取材したい、と思うようになりました。 At first, I followed this "Masked Man," camera in hand, in order to get a scoop on his identity. But as I watched the children in the slums, I began to think that, as a reporter, I should rather take the time to cover the current situation of the people living there.

スラム街にはたくさんの孤児がいます。私たちを無垢な笑顔で迎えてくれる子、まったく目を合わせてくれない子など、いろんな表情を見せてくれます。 There are many orphans in the slums. We see many different faces, from those who greet us with innocent smiles to those who don't make eye contact at all.

そんな彼らの姿を見ているうちに、昔のことを、ふと思い出してしまいました。 As I watched them, I suddenly remembered something from the past.

私も子供のころ父を失い、孤児になってしまうところでした。しかし、それを救ってくれたのは、おじさまだったんです。 I lost my father as a child and almost became an orphan. But Uncle Leon saved me from that.

あの頃、父を失った私をおじさまはまるで娘のように育ててくれました。 Back then, I had lost my father, and Uncle Leon brought me up as if I were his daughter.

だから、あの場所でおじさまを裏切るわけにはいかなかった。優しかったおじさまを裏切れなかった…。教授に嘘をついていたことは、申し訳ないと思っています。 So this is why I couldn't betray him in that place. I couldn't betray my kind Uncle Leon... I truly am sorry that I lied to you, Professor.

でも、こういうことがあったからこそ、教授に出会えた。人の運命って不思議ですね。 Still, it was because of these things that I met you. The destiny of people is a curious thing, isnt' it?

あ…、今の私を伝えたいと思ってこの手紙を書いたのに、過去の話になっちゃいましたね。私の話は、また教授に会ったときにお話ししますね。 Ah... I wrote this letter in order to tell you how I am now, but all this is about the past. I will tell you my story when we meet again.

というわけで…今は楽しく仕事をしています！ So, all that to say... I really am enjoying my work now!

そうそう、長かった髪を思い切ってばっさり切りました！ Yes, I also cut off my long hair in a very drastic way!

これまでタージェントの一員として生きてきましたが、いま、ワールドタイムズでカメラマンとして働く普通の女性として歩み出すことができた、そんな気がしています。 I have lived my entire life as a member of Targent. But now, I feel that I have been able to step forward as an ordinary woman, who is now working as a photographer for the World Times.

きっといつか、あなたにまた会える、その日まで。 I am sure that one day, we will meet again. Until that day.

ＰＳ．取材中の写真をドリスさんに撮ってもらいました！あっ、後ろにマスク男が…！ P.S. Doris took photos during the interview! Ah, the Masked Man is in the background...!

Emmy Altava

Important translation note: Emmy calls Bronev "oji-sama," all in hiragana, which makes it unclear whether she is related to him by blood or not (おじ means "uncle," but can also just mean "man who is older than the speaker" (at least from what I know)).

The Eternal Diva novel introduces Emmy as "a beautiful woman of Asian lineage" (and yes, I know, Asia is huge with a lot of different lineages, and I don't know either which corner of Asia is being talked about here), so make of that info what you like. In order to leave it as ambiguous as I could, I replaced all instances of "oji-sama" with "Uncle Leon."

There might be a few other translation changes I made, but I think this was the most important one to take note of.

By the way, I actually scanned the whole guidebook, and I will share it when I can (though don't hold your breath, as you probably know I am currently juggling between way too many projects). The scans aren't ready to be shared yet because they were basically done with me not really caring whether the pages would be perfectly straight, upside down, etc, and as such they need some editing.

(I checked and the resolution of the scans is high enough to make it so that editing doesn't hurt the quality in the slightest. I swear that when the scans are finished editing, you won't even realise it and they'll look just as good as what you're seeing above with Emmy's letter).

The editing also includes linking the pages together for aesthetics purposes. Some pages have artworks that spread over both pages, so I'm doing my best to make it look seamless! Here, have an example for the first double page in the book that really does it:

As you can guess, editing each of the 128 pages in order to get this result is time-consuming, and translating that is going to be a doozy. But let's just appreciate how awesome it will be once it's done, eh? :D

Anyway, next up on the blog is going to be the Eternal Diva novel translation. I'm still working on getting some buffer done, but hopefully the first "chapter" will get out soon! I'd like to post on Saturdays. Let's cross our fingers for tomorrow. Or next week, if today's translation is enough to satiate you all for now!

[screamingcrows]

Nothing will be spared

Chapter 1 - The future can't be real

Notes: Shhh... I know I said 'no Dottore series' but that was a different me. There'll be eight chapters in total, that's it. Don't squint too hard at this, and do not use this for AI. Tags: dottore x fem!reader, reincarnation au, canon-divergent, angel reader, death, hurt/comfort, teyvat speculation if you squint Minors, blank, and ageless blogs; DNI

"This world is flawed!"

A silence reserved for the grave settled between the watchers present, countless of their moonlit gazes sharpening. Your voice rang through the assembly, painfully accusatory to your own ears.

The amber eyes of your Mistress burned in their inquisition, radiance too great for you to bear in this moment. Not when your thoughts had become mercurial, expectations of hidden cruelty pleading for you to turn and run before blades impaled themselves in your wings.

Whispers erupted in Her silence, questions of your own erosion floating between the countless gilded pillars that held up the carefully crafted dome of protection, the beyond too much for Her fledgling children to withstand. Their golden trims were beautifully crafted, reflecting only warmth whenever your eyes had apprehensively examined them. From the very beginning, the act itself had torn at your being, guilt working so desperately to push back the accusations that were now flowing from you lips.

A steadying breath before the continuation was needed, "Blessed Mother, I seek not to question your judgement, yet-"

"Yet you speak with such malice in your heart, step forward then, let me see from where your doubts spring," Her voice curled pleasantly around your form, tiny pinpricks moving along your skin at the sorrow that tinged her words.

Fate was inescapable. Even for one as you. How long and in what detail had She known that this moment would come to pass?

Still, your eyes remained firmly on the marbled ground as you sank to your knees, intent on showing the immense regret that She no doubt expected to sense. The whispers had died with the first syllable on Her tongue, the only merciful distraction being the occasional ruffle of feathers.

"My kin were created to care for the humans and guide them through their lives, such was the purpose we received from your lips when life was breathed into us. It pains me to see shards break from their souls, it must be possible to do-"

Her raised hand froze the continuation on your tongue, the eternal summer night dispersed within seconds, "They are perpetual, my child, nothing is lost, that was my blessing to this world, even to apostates like him," a brief hint of something unfamiliar, uncertain perhaps, hung in Her voice "you all know this."

Humiliation flared in your chest at the subtle questioning of your faith, murmurs of acknowledgement carried upon the soft clouds. The same comfort that mercilessly bid storms to rage below.

"With my own eyes, I saw the cavity left behind. Please, at least let some investigate it, I want nothing more than to be proven wrong" you knew this was beyond your rights, but She was always kind, and you could no longer handle how you had been choking on guilt ever since, how thorns dug into your wings whenever they spread to ferry another, "if your beloved creations are in danger, shouldn't you do something?"

Color drained from the stars, plunging the ethereal abode into a pale night. You needn't look to know the rest of your kin had dropped to their knees as well. With eyes closed, you awaited judgement, jolted to life when icy fingertips brushed your cheek.

Surely, after all the care of creating them, She would listen.

"You will abandon this course."

The days since had been filled with nothing but confusion and misery, forced to return where you'd first awoken and relive the extensive instructions on carrying souls between their tethers. A duty that was, and had been, second nature for millennia while phantom weariness settled in the corners. The instructors refused to meet your gaze as they drew maps across the stars, showing each constellation to which you'd been assigned.

Nourish the dead so they may tread the path paved for them. Guide them to shed their toils so they may be born anew.

The words tolled ceaselessly in your mind, but instead of invoking contentment all that spread with each pulse was a dark fog further muddling thoughts already bordering on blasphemy. With a heavy sigh, you reminded yourself that the shadows lining your vision weren't the blackening of feathers as mortals so loved to portray.

With a heavy heart, you watched as the young man went up in flames, futile cries for a mother who hadn't responded for years, for anything that would have him, were drowned out by passionate yells. The first few times life had bled from those garnets, it had been no different than any other meeting an unfortunate end. A final screech tore apart the air before the spectators roared, backs being patted with a careless satisfaction only humans could wield.

How come he had those striking eyes every time?

The crowd was nothing as you moved, a flicker of satisfaction tingling when shivers ran down their spines. For some so willing to mete out death, their unease in the presence of life had always been a conundrum. With the gentleness of a lover, you coaxed the soul from its charred vessel, brushing along the cerulean hair that seemed to haunt him in every life. As flames continued to lick at the lifeless husk, lips were pressed to it in what had become a silent ritual, ensuring that no body decayed before it could be loved.

Shimmering tendrils connected the soul in your arms and tethered it to the ground, the energy stretching to accommodate as you rose through the air, once again at ease as the sights below vanished. The cracks were there, thin and barely visible, but so unmistakably present, spreading their threads from the small cavity that had formed. Slowly, the energies shifted, connecting him instead to the stars above. You needn't look to know where they led, having long since learned where in the sky oculus haeresis sat.

Why had She woven such a thing into being, claiming it done as an act of love? If the beginning was certain and the end determined, their will would still be free throughout the rest, fate operating on a separate layer of existence than they would ever influence. Suffering was free to exist in the space between, you knew this, it gave their lives purpose to have. But to force tragedy onto every end was different.

Clouds gathered beneath your feet, golden pillars visible in the distance from the recluse you'd chosen. Away from the main areas was always preferable for souls like his, requiring as few disturbances as possible. Containing the possibility that he might influence others. A soft hum rippled the clouds, urging them to become what he needed to see upon waking. Imagining what exact shapes and colors they took always in the back of your mind, curious to know what could put fated prey at ease. Perhaps it wasn't a bad question to ask, meaningless enough at surface level to lower his guard while allowing for further discussion.

Voice a gentle melody, the soul slipped from your grasp, tendrils of mist wrapping around it and give it a shape of its own before he awoke. "You're safe now, open your eyes slowly."

Nothing was expelled with the cough that wrung itself from him, and a smile tugged at your lips at the human mind's blindness to the change in bodily composition. They were creatures who thrived on habit, no matter how furiously they claimed otherwise.

"Safety?" another cough, voice still as though breathing cinders, "safety is nothing but an empty promise."

For a moment, you merely observed the way his eyes darted around, surprise, confusion, and disbelief all flickering across his expression in the span of a breath. Times like these always rekindled your purpose, smiling as the young man laid back down, chuckles bubbling forth to fill the space between him and the barrier.

Despite time being meaningless, no more than a few breaths passed before he spoke, voice eager to understand as always, "I was burned at the stake," a hand ran through the hair, exploratively tugging at the strands, "yet here I am, waking as if from a bad dream."

"Perhaps that's all it was."

"Then all my life has been nothing but a slumber," he felt along something in the illusion before continuing, "how else can I explain these sights? Foliage only recorded in tomes, a forgiving sky, and a someone looking at me as though they understand. This cannot coexist with the life that I know, and such, one must be false."

He was always so tantalizingly close to seeing the truth, a warmth blooming in your chest at the peaceful expression, an unspoken hope - no fear - that this was the only place he experienced such calm.

"And what life did you know?"

His body righted, hands reaching to cup and crush nothing, "I do not recall sunlight touching my skin for the first decade, and for the second, there was far too much of it."

It was hauntingly familiar, so similar to what he always described. Stowed away as a child and tossed away once his peers had faith their consciences could remain clear upon his exile. There was no indignation in his voice, just as there had been no lasting scars on his soul. Most of the time he went easily through the flames, willing to forget the short life that had been lived. With maturity it became more difficult, took further coaxing before he parted with the experiences.

"If not a dream, what is this place where roses shimmer around the edges? We have yet to hear a single sound except our voices and a tolling bell."

So even now, he heard the cleansing bell? A relieved smile settled in your eyes before answering, "This is a place of rest, and I am here to guide you so that your life can no longer burden your soul."

You saw his eyes narrow and rove over your body, bitterness creeping into his tone, "An adeptus? No, unlikely. Whatever you are, such kindness is never offered freely."

A small chuckle ran through your body, oh how you'd missed this soul and the eternal bite of his tongue. His hands were swatting at the clouds, as though he could dispel the mirage to prove himself right.

"There is no need to be so wary, as a child of these stars, it is your birthright to be offered serenity," until you are once more ready to descend, "tell me, who were you?"

A snarl wrenched itself from his lips, the sheer force briefly dispersing a part of the soft clouds cradling you both. Once, you had asked the question, crimson eyes growing distant and a hand tugging at soft tufts of hair before the child admitted to not knowing. Another time, the teen had hugged his legs a little tighter, whispering a single word. 'Unwanted'. Other times, the man would laugh, titles falling like feathers from his frame.

"Not before you tell me what you are."

"I guide the souls of the departed, that will have be enough to satiate your curiosity for now. Rest assured, you will know more in time."

He spat out the answer, "Zandik," while boring holes into your form, most likely attempting to cut open your intentions.

Unless his parents had somehow gleaned fate it had to be an epithet, and if they truly had there would've been far worse consequences for his village of birth to handle. Your expression betrayed nothing, a small nod the only fitting response to a fate crueler than the ends he met. Zandik had grown quiet as well, as though reality was settling in the bones that lay far below, ephemeral hands brushing along a body as real as them in motions that appeared soothing.

"Are you going to sit there and gawk at me like a beast on display for the rest of eternity? I've answered your questions, isn't it time you do the same?" indignation dripped from his words as a hand stretched to reach you, "and don't think I can be placated by beautiful fallacies. Tell me what this place is."

No words were spoken, instead stopping his motion by grasping the curious hand, feeling nothing but smoke from its caress as you placed the palm to your chest, praying he could feel the steady heartbeat you had willed your body to produce. It was an odd gesture, but one that helped calm most souls.

"I will never speak falsehoods, Zandik," the name was spoken with extra care, wishing for the last memories of it to be pleasant, perhaps that could eradicate the rest, "in this world, we all have our purpose. With that comes responsibility and knowledge, some of which is for our hearts only. I will answer all that I can, and in due time, you will know all that you need, such is the aim of the paths we tread upon."

"So you refuse to tell me? Fine, I'll figure it out by myself, I always do."

Such certainty made containing a smile nigh impossible. He always did? If that was the truth he needed, then it was one to be nourished.

The world remained a cresting dawn for far too long as he sat in idle meditation, fingers drumming once more as restlessness settled in the silence. Seasons had without doubt passed below the familiar coverage, had they also passed in the mirage he saw? You could only watch with bated breath as watchers glided past, souls cradled tenderly in their arms as they were cleansed. Their eyes purposefully avoided your direction, tongues no doubt longing to question the sensibility of allowing you the mercy of duty.

A sigh prefaced the question you'd already anticipated from Zandik, "How much longer must we meditate?"

"Until you're ready," patience and encouragement were essential, "perhaps we should take a break for now?"

His head dropped, fists slowly relaxing their grip. The light glittered along the cracks in quiet mockery, once they spread further, would it appear as though delicate lace had been draped across him? If only you could bring Her here without endangering Zandik's soul, if not for Her to mend it, then at least believe that something had gone awry.

'Mortals must be sheltered from these things, lest it overwhelms their soul.' Such were the teachings, and no one dared asked from where the certainty came, knowing the sorrow upon Her face would be too much to bear.

"And what if I will never be ready? How can I declare myself prepared for a future you refuse to share with me?"

There was a distinct lack of bite to his voice, a realization that fostered a blossoming calm, "Then we will continue to sit here and reflect."

You had to wonder if it was painful, if Zandik could feel the strange wounds inflicted on his eternal spirit. It would explain why he was having such difficulties moving on this time, why it had taken long enough that countless other souls had to be brought into the care of others, how could he be expected to forget when a reminder had been carved into him.

"Let me share a glimpse with you," his hesitation at your presence had faded enough that he didn't even scoff at the outstretched hand. A soft thrum hung in the air as an image manifested, the one you used every time, had been instructed to use, not a lie but a stretch. Their mortal body morphing as wings sprouted from their back, skin taking on a glow soft as morning dew, "with patience and understanding, you will shed your constraints and ascend."

"To what, an eternity of servitude here? I may have longed for a different life, but not one with gilded chains."

Despite the reluctance of his voice, a little fledgling doomed to drown as the waters crept closer, his acceptance was inevitable. Just as it had been countless times before. No matter how he refused, the memories he held were far too terrible to cling to, and thus, you watched as his resolved crumbled with every unnecessary breath. The light fading from his shape as the memories were laid to rest, their brightness lighting the tendrils connecting to the sky before eventually dulling.

It was with a peaceful heart that you brought the flickering shape into your embrace, carefully keeping it tethered, before slowly descending. The veins of the world connected and intertwined endlessly, spreading out underneath the earth and capturing everything that was, the life that walked there connecting also to above, to what would be. There was little difference no matter where the souls were returned into the roots, and so your mind led you to the place closest, determined not to relish in the slight warmth that itched along your spine.

"Know that if nothing else, I always look forward to meeting you, Zandik."

You watched with horror as his eyes snapped open, crimson irises bleeding in desperation at the brief pulse of energy that illuminated the night before his body evaporated, soul drawn into the ground. The purest remains of a soul contain no memories, no experiences, and that is what we must return to the ground. With a creeping sense of dread, your wings blotted out the sun during the ascent, unable to focus on neither consequences nor solutions.

The rivers ran red as the newborn child's irises, a moment of silence before his shrill shriek cut through the dawn. How could one who had just entered the world remember both a name and face, one a vicious mockery and the other a warm embrace? He didn't understand, of course he didn't, instead his cries carried long into the starlit night, a solitary constellation and an anxious watcher remaining far above.

[dailynyarinder]

wakey wakey

Is someone home?

HI GUYS MOD HERE IM SO SORRY

Another quick Daily Nyarinder coming soon! Plus… a challenge? 👀

An explanation for my absence + details on an upcoming Daily Nyarinder event under the cut!!

So kinda personal bt my therapist left her practice unexpectedly so I got off my adhd and depresso meds at the same time as I was moving to another house and I just… really lost steam and haven’t had the energy to work on this project orz

i love cotl with all my heart! But my main fandom is svsss (shout out to kamkamquats on twt, this blog was inspired by their dailybingpup!! 💖) and trying to move all my shit over from twitter to bluesky so it doesn’t feed Elon Musk’s ai has also taken a lot of energy that would have been spent drawing for both cotl and svsss.

Additionally, last time I checked this blog I got some anon asks trying to pull me into fandom wank. The admin of this account is a grown adult with a spouse, a house, community protests to organize/attend, cosplays to make, a startup business to take care of; online fandoms are my comfort place and have been since I was 13, and as such I resolved years ago to stay away from fandom drama and just do what makes me happy. I’m really used to how chill and sweet svsss fandom is, so it was kinda startling to remember that younger fandoms are very drama-prone. I deleted those messages, but it still left a sour taste in my mouth whenever I came back to this blog.

As such, I’ve been on a break. And I probably will continue this hiatus until things settle on bluesky and I can spend more time on my friend’s cotl discord server to get my motivation back.

-

THAT SAID, I hope to do a little daily nyarinder art challenge for anyone who still follows this blog! Instructions and rules will be posted separately later today, but the idea is thus:

“YOU, dear reader, are just as wonderful, creative, and capable an artist as any cultist here. What do YOU want to see in Daily Nyarinder’s escapades? Pick up a craft and get creating! Use whatever you’ve got—whether it’s a fancy tablet, ibispaint on a touchscreen phone (that’s how dailynyarinder has been made so far 👀), a pen and the back of a receipt, needle and thread, hook and yarn, scrapbooking paper and scissors, a word doc and a keyboard, a camera, etc etc etc. Whatever medium brings you joy and renews your belief in our benevolent God of Death, this humble Narinder blog calls upon you to make and share a Daily Nyarinder post of your own!

Skill level doesn’t matter in the face of creativity. Whether you’re a renowned oil painter, a fanfic author, a newbie artist, or a kid who just really likes cats, all offerings are encouraged and welcome!

As for content rules, the Nyarinderverse is full of strange and unusual things; anything goes! HOWEVER, since this is a sfw blog and is followed by lots of minors, I’ll ask that if anyone participating decides to draw nsfw content, please make sure it is appropriately tagged and locked behind some sort of link—whether it’s a link to twitter, privatter, or elsewise. Any NSFW that isn’t hidden from immediate view will not be reblogged on this blog. If and when I reblog potential nsfw content, it will be tagged “NSFW” BY ME BY AS WELL so that my followers can filter it out if they need.

Any characters, ships, potential squicks or triggers, etc should be tagged appropriately.

Please know that this blog will never, EVER harass or condone/encourage harassment based on what you make, but as the mod I retain the right to not reblog works that squick me out personally. This doesn’t mean you shouldn’t make them; it just means they might not all appear here.

Works may be posted separately under the hashtag #DailyNyarinderChallenge or submitted to this blog!

Finally, and most importantly, HAVE FUN!”

^^^ the challenge text will be reposted with some promotional artwork later, but does this sound like it would be a fun event? Let me know what you think.

Look forward to the resolution of the current daily nyarinder arc this week! But then I’ll likely go back on break again until things settle. 💖🐈‍⬛

[discworld-heritage-posts]

What do you think you add? Do you think you make a poignant post better when after scrolling down through it we see someone saying it's "official"?

I'm choosing to interpret this ask as a genuine question (albeit one that's been worded a bit rudely) instead of a hate anon, because I wouldn't want to tarnish people's dashboards with hate anons.

Now, to answer your genuine question... The "Discworld Heritage Post" tagline I add to the end of posts has as much validity as I have authority to bestow it: none. Do I think my tagline makes posts better? Of course not! And I certainly don't think I make them official, (and neither my url or my pinned post claim that I do so).

I don't know what reasons other people had to start their own Heritage Posts blogs for other fandoms, but I will gladly tell you mine: I got into Discworld. I discovered the Discworld fandom in Tumblr. And, one day, while scrolling down some Discworld related tags, the idea just popped into my head. After checking that there wasn't a Discworld Heritage Posts blog already, I decided to make one.

I personally follow a few Heritage Posts blogs, and my reason to do so is probably the same as to why many people follow this blog: I wanted to see that kind of content. Tracking tags and being up to date on the most popular posts of a fandom is doable, but doing so for the dozens upon dozens of media I'm into is impossible, so I like to follow some Heritage Posts blogs to get some of those posts directly into my dashboard (it's also worth mentioning that sometimes, some iconic posts are made when people comment stuff on them, and those don't appear in the search tags, so following blogs that post about a certain fandom is the best way to come across some of those collaborative posts, because otherwise you'd rarely get to see them). So yes, I created a blog that, had it already existed, I would have liked to follow. Also, while other blogs with this gimmick usually limit themselves to reblogging, let's call them the "greatest hits", I've said since the beginning that I didn't care about how many notes something had. Be it cool art or a funny or insightful post, if I like it, I send it to my drafts.

However, none of those reasons are the main reason why I made this blog. The main reason is that I did it for myself. After exhausting all the content that showed up in the Popular Posts tab, I couldn't help but think of all the gold and treasure that wasn't there, buried and hidden due to the way Tumblr's search engine works. If you're familiar with the Discworld concept of "lies-to-children", that's what the "top posts of all time" is in Tumblr. A 20k post from 2016 will not be there, but a six month old post with 400 notes will show up. Surely there had been amazing Discworld posts and art posted in 2015 and 2013, but I wasn't going to find most of them unless I expressly went looking for them. And this blog was the perfect excuse to do so. As of replying to this ask, there's nearly 600 posts sitting in my drafts, and if I didn't have this blog I would have never discovered 90% of them. And those are the ones I've seen. I still have dozens of places I haven't searched.

I know that if I reblog a month old post with over 2k notes, a lot of people in the fandom will have already seen it. However, a 2k notes post from 2014, or a drawing with 40 notes from 2012 is something that is less likely to have hit people's dashes recently, or at all. When you come across the "Discworld Heritage Post" tagline in a post, please don't picture me as an uppity monarch performing the Tumblr equivalent of a knighting ceremony, or a stuffy museum curator deigning a piece worthy of being included in an exhibition. Picture me as a kid enthusiastically jumping and flailing my arms around while yelling "holy shit guys check out what I just found!!", because that's how I feel running this blog.

Ultimately, whether one of my posts does better or worse is indifferent to me, because they aren't my posts, or memes, or drawings. I'm just the intermediary. That being said, of course it's not indifferent to me, because more engagement means that was a post many people hadn't seen before, or had forgotten about, and one of my goals was to run a blog that would allow people to find those hidden or long forgotten gems.

When all is said and done, Heritage Post blogs are just another one of Tumblr's gimmicks. If we're not your cup of tea, you're free to ignore or block us. If you want to reblog something and don't want the tagline, you can reblog it directly from OP (or from another reblog if OP has deactivated their account).

[siriusleee]

iii. sterling silver

Zombie Apocalypse AU | SIMON RILEY x f!READER

↳ SUMMARY: The world is trying to knit itself back together after fracturing apart. You're trying to put yourself back together with it; Simon Riley is just trying to stay alive. ↳ WORD COUNT: 2.2K ↳ TAGS: mentions of cannibalism, mentions of shooting things, mentions of dying. smut to come. canon typical violence to come. additional tags to come as the story progresses. female reader. no mentions of "your name". reader is given a nickname. ↳ AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you to the discord girlies for letting me bounce things off of you guys. If you guys like the works, consider donating to my ko-fi. ↳ TAG LIST: There will not be a tag list for this story, as Tumblr has issues with letting me tag people. To get notifications of updates, please subscribe on AO3 or turn on notifications for my blog.

additional chapters | ao3

You don’t want to tell him your name - it feels vulnerable - the type of vulnerability you couldn’t feel in years; the type of vulnerability that you don’t want to have with a man who’s treated you like he has. 

“Tell me yours first,” your voice feels raw - you haven’t spoken this much in years. 

His fingers flex on the rifle; in his eyes, you can see that he’s having the same internal struggle you are - the same fight to keep every little part of himself that he can. Finally, his hands loosen on the gun, and he sets it down, leaning it gently against the wall. You keep your eyes trained on his hands, on the scars that litter the skin, watching to see if he’ll suddenly snatch the weapon up again.

“I’m Ghost.” The words roll off of his tongue heavily, as if he’s speaking a foreign language he hasn’t spoken in years. As if the restrained gentleness is so odd on his tongue that he can hardly stand the taste of it.

“That’s not your real name.”

“‘Course it’s not.”

It’s not an explanation, not one that’s going to stretch this conversation out longer and keep you from giving up a piece of yourself to him. So you don’t, the first thing coming to mind spitting from you with half-hidden vitriol at having to say anything.

“My dad used to call me Dove.”

It feels strange to tell a stranger something about yourself. This stranger who nearly burnt you to a crisp and force marched you through the forest. Apprehension and a sort of giddy feeling hang in the pit of your stomach - there hadn’t been a single person you’d told that too since before the ending.

His expression doesn’t change between the black fabric of his balaclava; without a word, he disappears into the back room with your bow and arrows still clenched in his hands.  His absence causes your brain to kick into overdrive: you could run now, but would he catch you? Would he need to catch you - why did he even bring you here? He still has your bow, and without it, you might as well resign yourself to starving between the trees.

You could take his rifle, but those are loud and attract Biters. Then there was the problem of finding ammo, so sparse these days that you might as well use it as a club for all the good it would do for you.

Before you can make a decision, Ghost arrives back into the room, hands empty of your equipment. He gestures to a chair on matchstick legs, hauling his pack onto the table. You hesitate to sit down, but finally give in when he shoots you a poisoned look.

It’s an immediate relief to be off of your feet. Blood rushes back into your toes, they sting painfully as you flex them in your threadbare boots. The skin that blistered beneath your burning pants itches terribly, and your chest feels like a weight of bricks lay on it, but it’s nice to just sit after nearly a day of walking. The muscles in your back ache terribly, and not for the first time since the entire world fell to shit, you find yourself wishing for a hot bath.

Your eyes never leave Ghost as he pulls two brown-gray packs from his bag; he tosses one at you, and you catch it on the end of your fingertips. You trace your fingers on the plastic package, your stomach grumbling and clenching at the sight of it.

“How did you get one of these?” You ask in awe, ignoring the suspicion that’s been plaguing you for the day.

“Does it matter?”

No. It doesn’t matter. Your hunger is stronger than whatever suspicion or anger you have at Ghost; anomalistically you rip into the bag, spilling the contents out across the table.

Crackers. Instant coffee powder. The little water-heated bag of lasagna. A chocolate chip cookie. Three different types of water flavors. Strawberry jam. 

It’s more food than you've seen in one place in months. 

You start with the cookie, shoving the entire thing into your mouth - it’s old and brittle. The chocolate has the chemical flavor of a cheap candy bar, but the sweetness is still so strong after having nothing similar in five years. Crumbs fall out of your mouth and onto your shirt, you hear your mom’s voice in your head chiding you about being ladylike, but you push it away. It’s not the kind of memory someone needs right now.

Ghost slides a half-filled bottle of water towards you; you snatch it up to activate the water heater of the food, holding it in your hands as it heats and reveling in the feeling against your cold fingers. 

“You haven’t eaten much.” 

It’s a statement, but there’s no judgment in Ghosts’s voice as he watches you grip the food, waiting for it to be done. You feel like a stray dog with a bone; you’d kill him if he tried to take it back from you. But he doesn’t do anything but lean back in his matchstick chair, his MRE unopened in front of himself. 

“I eat what I can find.”

“Can you find much these days?”

You don’t like how he talks to you, like you’re a dog he’s trying to placate and earn its trust. Running your tongue across your teeth, you watch him, suspicion creeping back in again. It doesn’t feel right - the tone he’s talking to you in.

“Why did you kidnap me? Are we supposed to stay here forever?”

Ghost’s jaw works beneath his mask.

“I told you: I don’t know who you might run off to.” Each of his words is measured, bitten off at the perfect size.

“And tell them what? That a man with a skull mask nearly burnt me alive?”

“Yes.”

It’s maddeningly vague, but before you can retort Ghost speaks again.

“You should eat that. You look like you’re about to fall over.”

Annoyed but starving, you tear into the package. The smell makes your mouth water, and for a second you’re back to dinner in your mom’s kitchen, but that second passes and you’re tearing into the hot food with your fingers. You’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so hungry. But all you’d had for weeks was the smallest squirrels that were too slow for your arrows. Most of them you’d eaten raw, your stomach getting hungrier with each passing day. A few you’d laid out in the sun to turn into jerky when you could spare the time to sit in one place. Deer were too large for you these days, muscle tone disappearing with the summer.

You lick your fingers clean, and then the package too. When you’re done, you turn your attention to the crackers, smearing them with the strawberry jam and then licking the crumbs from the package. 

The only light left is the oil lamps gently illuminating the room. Once you wash the taste of the food from your mouth, your suspicion returns. Ghost hasn’t moved the entire time and when you’re done, he pushes himself out of the chair. His MRE sits abandoned on the table - you eye it suspiciously. There’s a test here, but you can’t work it out.

“You can sleep over there,” he says with a jerk of his head towards the dusty couch. “I’m taking watch.”

Watch for what? You want to ask, but you keep the thoughts to yourself, the taste of jam lingering on your molars. Ghost stares at you for just a moment too long, until you stand painfully and walk to the couch. Sitting for so long has made the pain in your side sharper, the feeling inside of your chest at being locked inside of this small cabin with a strange man more hollow. Curling onto the end of the couch, you settle yourself so that you can see the front of the cabin through the adjacent window, plastic yellowing where it had been taped over a broken pane. The forest outside shivers with the coming snowstorm - you should have been halfway to your winter camp by now. You don’t even know how to get back on the trail.

Ghost slams the door shut behind him; the sound makes you wince. It’s as if he’s completely unafraid of noise, of drawing attention to himself. You don’t like it.

It makes your stomach twist on itself, and you regret eating so fast. You think you might throw it all up. Ghost settles down onto the little stairs right outside the door, rifle resting across his knees. You let your head recline on the arm of the couch, watching him, and waiting for the right moment.

It comes deep into the night when your eyes are fighting to stay awake and your mouth tastes like cotton. He stands, slinging his rifle over his shoulder, and shakes his arms out. His boots crunch over the snow and frozen leaves as he walks at a measured pace along the edge of the cabin.

The moment presents itself to you, and you take it. The door opens with a ragged creak and slams with a shut that rattles the night behind you. But you slip against the snow, knee hitting the hard ground painfully. You let out a pained grunt, and the sound must alert Ghost to your escape.

Feet pounding the ground, you slip on the snow that’s gathered in the night. Behind you, Ghost breathes heavily, but even as the sound of his boots hitting the ground follows you. You should have gotten your arrows from wherever Ghost had hidden them.

You do a hairpin turn around an oak tree, and you hear Ghost shout from behind you.

“Stop! You're going to run right into them!”

You barely have time to think about his words before the ground drops out from below you for the second time today. Your hands scramble against the roots and vegetation that cover the drop-down, trying to find a purchase as you plunge toward a thick darkness. 

In the snow-covered night, you crash into a ravine. The ice-cold water immediately pulls the breath from your lungs. You hear Ghost muttering curses as he slides down the drop-off. 

You sink up to your wrists in icy mud as you try to crawl away from him, but your body is too broken from the day, the pain that scorches through you is too heavy and cold for you to go too far or fight back as Ghost wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you, your hands squelching as Ghost drags you from the mud. 

He clamps his hand over your mouth, whispering harshly for you to shut up as he drags you back towards the wall of dirt and roots.

You try to kick him, but pain lances through the hip you fell on; Simon slings you behind the edge of a half-fallen tree covering your body with his, still hissing in your ear to shut up. You nearly bite your tongue from shivering so hard. He pushes you hard into the ground; you try to push yourself away from him when you hear it.

The cadence of human feet up above you, the steady clink of chains, and the low moan of Biter's. It comes from the bank opposite of you and Ghost. A sliver of flashlight appears at the top of the ravine, sweeping along the banks. Men’s voices sound out in the darkness.

“It was probably a fox screaming.”

“Check all around, just in case.”

You think you’re going to throw up, your heart is in your throat as Ghost presses himself harder onto you, trying to fold the two of you into the ground so that you’re not spotted. 

Ghost hisses in your ear, close enough to make you shiver. 

“That’s the body snatchers you’re so worried about.” He shives, his elbow digging into your side painfully, your surely broken rib seeming to crack harder beneath the weight of him, “Ought to let them catch you for this.”

The threat is enough to make your heartbeat quicken; you wonder if Ghost can feel it in his chest as it’s pressed against yours. The sound of chains and Biters moaning rolls through the cold night air, Ghost’s breath is warm on the shell of your ear. The men talk, quietly enough that you can’t make out their distinct conversations. It’s hard to breathe with Ghost’s hand wrapped over your head, keeping it held closely to the ground.

You want to look up and see if their flashlight is hovering over the two of you; you may have laid there all night and into the next night for all you know. But when Ghost lifts himself off of you, you shiver violently from the loss of his warmth. Pink tinges the horizon even though daylight is still hours off. 

The mud coats almost every part of you, Ghost grabs your shoulder roughly and flips you over, brown eyes boring into yours, and his fingers digging painfully into the bones of your shoulder.

“You try to run away again, and I will let them catch you. Do you understand me?”

You don’t answer; you don’t think you can make your jaw work, but Ghost shakes you, loosening your tongue. The sterling silver moon is being pushed out of the sky above him, his brown eyes hard.

“I understand.”

[gaysindistress]

When Night Comes- four

Summary: Who would win in a staring contest? New York’s resident mob boss and master of the side eye Bucky Barnes or the daycare teacher who really wants to go home and smoke?

pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x reader

warnings: cursing, mentions of blood drinking, creepy cab driver

word count: 3.2k

three | masterlist

Tag list: @vickie5446 @cakesandtom @buckybarnessimpp @hidden-treasures21​ @unaxv​ @mal-adaptive-dreams @elizacusi-blog

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on Google/Pinterest

Ping. 

Ping. 

A groan rips through her body as she blindly searches for her phone while it vibrates on the coffee table. Reaching across to the table, her upper half falls off the couch with a thud and another groan (this time one of pain) rings out. The phone ceases its dance on the table when her alarm stops and she just slides off the couch entirely in her sleepy state, laying on the floor in a heap of blankets as she opens her phone. As she guessed there are missed calls and unopened texts from Bucky but the text that isn’t from him stands out. 

Bravery should’ve been her last name for attempting to steal her away for a date the same night that Bucky had one planned. Well key word is had and since it is no longer on the books, accepting an invite from Yelena doesn’t seem like the worst idea she has ever had. A certain recent ex would be the worst idea she’s ever had but that’s a story for another time. At the moment, responding with “sounds good” as she struggles to stand amidst the blankets to get ready for the day are her only tasks in mind. 

Blackbear streams from under the bathroom door along side steam letting her know that Jessica is also getting ready and will probably make them both late if Sunny doesn’t demand she get out right now. 

“Jess!” she calls but gets no response. 

“Jess!” she tries a little louder before pounding in the door, “Jessica Lee Reyes get out of the shower! Other people need hot water too!”

Her laugher overpowers the sound of the water and music as it all comes to an abrupt stop and she swings the door open. 

“Calm your tits. I was literally about to get out,” she says as she slides past Sunny, a fog of steam following after her, “Did Bucky ever stop texting you last night?”

“Uh yeah,” Sunny’s voice is barely audible thanks to the fan but Jessica still hears. 

“Thank god. I almost blocked him for you. I really hate that guys can’t take a hint sometimes.”

“Yelena texted me though. She either is really lucky or knew that I canceled on him because she wants to go out tonight.”

Before she disappears entirely into her room,  Jessica freezes with glee at the mention of the blonde’s name, “Oh she did? And what did you say?” “Yes.”

“Thank Jesus! I’m so glad you’re finally starting to put my hard work to good use.” “Yeah, yeah whatever,” sarcasm is not uncommon with her but it’s extra thick when Jessica is around and even more so when it comes to debating Sunny’s love life. 

“I’m dressing you and you have absolutely no say.”

Sunny chuckles to herself while she strips off to get into the shower. Only god will be able to save her from whatever outfit Jess has in mind for her. 

The moment they had ended their second shift at 6pm, Jessica all but dragged her back to her apartment to get ready for her date with Yelena. She may not have been freaking out about it outwardly, every fiber of her being is on fire with anticipation of what the night has to bring. All Yelena told her was that she’d be there at 7 and that they’d be going out, other than that, she is in the dark and at the mercy of Jessica’s interpretation of ‘going out’. Her definition included putting Sunny in baggy black cargo pants and a black corset because “what’s hotter than the big pants and little top combo?” as she put it. 

“As hot as I might look, do you really think this is appropriate? Going out could mean so many things and wha…”

Jessica presses a finger to her lips, “I know Yelena and when she says going out, she means clubbing so this is… actually maybe you’re right. I think you need a skirt instead, ya know small bottoms, small top is better anyways.”

She leaves Sunny at her vanity staring at her reflection as she searches for that one skirt she swears will be the perfect addition. The woman at the vanity on the other hand, is mentally tearing herself to bits as she inspects every inch of herself that can be seen in the mirror. No matter how hard she tries, Bucky comes flooding back to the forefront of her mind as she looks over the makeup Jessica put on her. It’s simple, bordering the clean girl look and something she isn’t used to seeing staring back at her. It makes her wonder if she had tried harder, would she be getting ready for HIM instead? 

“Oh for the love of god,” she mumbles under her breath. She never even kissed him and this is the hold that he had over her? One close encounter and she’s consumed by him? Shaking her head to shake him from the inside of it, she picks up the lip gloss Jessica used earlier and reapplies it. The shiny gloss catches the vanity light and glitters, cheering her on and boosting her ego. 

“Found it!” Jessica calls from the closet and comes back to her with a pale pink mini skirt, “What do you think?” “I like the pants better.”

“Ugh, you’re boring but have it your way,” she flings the skirt behind her with a chuckle, “You are going to wear heels though.”

“We’re going to a club not to the Met Gala, I’m sure my air jordans will be perfectly fine.”

“Why won’t you let me live through you? I’ve always wanted to go out with Yelena and it’s only fair that I get to style you since I set you two up.”

Sunny whips around to face her, “You dragged me to a party after I said no and then left me alone with a grade A douchebag only to be saved by Yelena. I would, in no way, call that setting us up.”

“I got you there and you met her only because you went so yes, yes I did set you up thank you very much.”

Before Sunny can get a retort back, the front door opens and Yelena’s voice rings out, letting them know she’s here. 

“Do you ever lock you door, Jess? It’s really not safe,” she says, appearing in the doorway and leaning against the frame. 

“I knew you were coming so I left it unlocked.”

“I know you better than that, you forgot but good try,” she chuckles at her failed attempt to cover up the truth before settling her eyes on Sunny, “You look good, голубка. Are you ready?”

She can feel her friend vibrating with excitement from behind her at the nickname and turns to her date, nodding and standing up. It’s the prime opportunity to smack her ass so Jessica takes it as she says, “Good luck. Don’t have too much fun without me!”

She sends her friend a nasty death glare while her date and her laugh manically like little school girls at her expense. Yelena is quick to stifle her laughter with a smirk when Sunny brushes past her on her way out of the room. This is an even better opportunity to look at her ass as she walks away which doesn’t go unnoticed by Jessica. 

“God you’re no better than a man,” she chides while cleaning up the remnants of their get ready session. 

“Says the one who slapped it.”

“Go have fun and don’t bring her back until tomorrow morning,” Jessica sends her a wink as she slides off the frame and goes in search of Sunny who is muttering to herself as she searches for her purse. 

“Looking for this?” 

Quickly looking up, she spots Yelena holding her missing purse with a cat like grin and eyes glittering as they take in every ouch of skin her outfit leaves out. Nodding she takes it from her and slips into her leather jacket, still feeling the heat of her date’s gaze on her. It’ll either make for a torturously long night or a far too quick one if she keeps up the way her green eyes leave chemtrails across her skin. 

Clearing her throat, she says, “I’m ready if you are.”

The smirk doesn’t leave her face when her eyes make their way to Sunny’s, “Of course голубка.”

She offers out her own leather clad arm to her before leaving Jessica’s apartment and lecturing her about never locking her door. 

“The boogieman is going to get you one of these days!” is the last thing Jessica hears while the door is shut and the two woman leave the apartment complex. 

Their walk downstairs and out onto the street is filled with the normal small talk; how was your day, any funny stories, what’s your favorite color, you know the usual things. Sunny wants to ask if she knew about her date with Bucky but bringing up a rival suitor is definitely not the best idea when on a date. If Yelena does know anything about it, she doesn’t give it away and avoids saying his name when talking about her job. Come to think of it, she’s rather vague about her job description in general and only mentions how it’s boring and how she works with her sister, Natasha. It’s a given that she does work in the criminal world to some degree if she knows Bucky well enough to crash one of his homes but Sunny isn’t about to pry that information out of her on the first date. 

The standard creepy cab driver does nothing to assuage the idea that she’s a criminal. His lewd stares and borderline harassing remarks causes her to keep a protective hand on Sunny’s knee. She can see her free hand itch to reach for something hidden under her jacket the entire ride but it never leaves her lap. Several times Yelena had to interrupt him mid-sentence and even threatened to get out without paying if he didn’t keep his mouth shut. She would have or pulled the gun tucked against her side if Sunny hadn’t squeezed her hand to ground her. 

“Don’t. It’s not worth it.”

The murderous glare softened the moment it left the cab driver, “The moment you’re uncomfortable, we’ll get out, okay?”

The nod of confirmation wasn’t enough though for her, “I need you to say it, голубка.”

The air left like it had been sucked out of her lungs with the simple demand but she managed to mutter back “I promise I’ll tell you if I am.”

Satisfaction from both her reaction and her words, she keeps a tight grip on Sunny’s knee and rubs small circles into the inside of it. The simple action is burning through her pant leg, trailing upwards as she has struggles to maintain a calm and collective exterior. 

Once at the club, Yelena tosses the cash at the driver and gives him a side eye deadly enough he keeps his eyes trained in the road in front of him. She makes a mental note of the license plate number to follow up on hum after their date is done. As her sister always said, the scum of this world cannot go unpunished and his time will come. However now is not that time and the woman tugging gently at her hand reminds her of the task at hand; dance the night away with the vision of a woman next to her. 

“What is this place?”

“Oh,” Yelena starts as she leads her towards the entrance of the old brick building, “It’s called Strigoi, a friend of mine owns it.”

“That’s an interesting name,” Sunny muses as she flashes her id and award winning smile to the bouncer before following her inside. 

Anything she might have wanted to say gets stuck when the club’s red lighting bathes over them as well as the interior of it. Unlike most other clubs, the floor has booths scattered throughout with platforms occasionally raising above to provide brave club goers a stage to demonstrate the courage bought by alcohol. The bar is backed by a wall of mirrors while the signature red lights cast a devilish glow on the matching mirror shelves filled with expensive liquor. Beyond everything is the DJ stand where dark synth music streams dramatically from. 

“Who exactly owns this club? A vampire?” Sunny whispers to Yelena, half joking while also hoping her earlier suspicions of Peter aren’t true. 

She doesn’t answer with words but instead with a deep laughter that vibrates into Sunny’s chest as well as they weave through the crowd towards the bar. A familiar voice catches her attentions when Yelena stops at the edge, leaning over to order drinks for him. Only a few seats down is the Peter Parker she’d hoped to never see again with the same girl from the kickback turned party. The red ambience makes it difficult to see much of him but yet there is another flash of something when he smirks down at the party girl. In his hand is a short glass of thick dark liquid and if Sunny didn’t know any better, she’d assume it’s blood. Obviously that’s insane and no one is drinking blood so she tears her stare away and looks to Yelena who’s already looking at her in puzzlement.  His arrogant chuckle draws her attention to him and it clicks; Sunny had spotted him in his natural habit and of course, is confused by it all. 

“I can have him kicked out if you want,” she says while handing Sunny her drink.

“Nah leave him. He’s not worth the hassle.”

“For you, any hassle is worth it.”

“Wow already laying it on thick I see. Think you’re going to get lucky?” she chuckles as she takes a sip of whatever Yelena ordered for her. 

The blonde woman shrugs as she scans her face, “Now that you mention it.”

She rolls her eyes at the suggestion and tugs on her arm to lead them away from the bar. Spotting an empty booth among the crowd of people is no easy feat however it’s not up to Yelena’s standards because she shakes her head and points to an area that’s roped off with even more bouncers guarding it. 

“Did you really think I’d bring you to a club and not sit in the VIP section?” and when she doesn’t answer, she continues with her playful teasing, “Cat got your tongue? It’s okay, голубка, what I have planned doesn’t require any talking.”

Behind the ropes and bouncers, lounges Bucky with Steve and Peggy, short glasses filled with the same thick dark liquid as Peter’s. That intoxicating smell drifts in amongst the waves of other club goers’ smells and has him narrowing his eyes at nothing and everything at the same time, searching for the owner. Peggy whispers something to her husband, red lips mere inches from the shell of his ear. Steve glances to his blue eyed friend and chuckles in agreement with what she said. 

“Find your companion for the night?” he taunts while taking a sip from his glass, the dark liquid leaving a slight film on his tongue. 

“No,” Bucky states plainly as he sets his glass down on the table before them, “She’s here.”

Peggy snorts, “You already have her smell memorized? I see her almost everyday and I barely know it.”

“For the safety of your child, I hope you’re joking,” he says while standing and walking towards the bouncers. 

In his absence, she turns to Steve, “Do you?”

“Have her smell memorized? Only enough to know the difference between the staff though. I wouldn’t give any thought to him right now, he’s all fired up over her, that Lycan woman from last night, and Alix.”

She huffs in response which earns her words of reassurance from him. Meanwhile Bucky is instructing his men to keep a close eye on Yelena and especially Sunny. When he returns to the booth, he doesn’t sit right away and takes his glass from the table. Yelena’s voice echoes past the music and noise of the club, letting him know that he is about to face confrontation no doubt. She spots him before Sunny can and she does what she can to guide her away from that booth much to his dismay and pleasure. Her efforts to distract her fail and Sunny sees Steve, giving him a small smile which falls when Bucky comes into her view. The trio pick up on parts of what she’s whispering angrily to Yelena, “What… he… here? You….me….was going to be….”

Yelena, although, hears every word loud and clear, “What is he doing here? You didn’t tell me he was going to be here.”

“I didn’t know he was there. I’m sorry if it makes this,” she gestures between the two of them, “awkward. We can go somewhere else.”

“No this is ridiculous. He can’t fucking ruin everything,” she runs a hand over her hair and takes a deep breath, “I’m sorry if I made things awkward. It’s just… a little complicated I guess.”

Yelena’s ring filled hand cups the side of her face, tilting her hand to look at her, “Nothing’s changed. Trust me I know how complicated things are when it comes to him but I won’t hold it against you if you don’t against me.”

“Ya know,” she takes a step closer, closing the distance between them, “We could just ignore him. This date is between you and I, he is not involved in any way.”

“I like the sounds of that,” Yelena whispers back as her hand shifts down to cradle her jaw, her thumb ghosting over her glossy bottom lip, “You’re going to get me in trouble if I’m not careful.”

Sunny smirks against her thumb, “Why do you say that?”

“I think you know why,” she leans impossibly closer, “Can I kiss you?” Her eyes flicker down to Yelena’s mauve lips, nodding ever so slightly before they meet in one small kiss only to be drawn back in and devour each other in the middle of a crowded club. 

Having watched the whole exchange, his body tenses as her smell shifts when the kiss deepens. Jealously bubbles in his veins and the only thing stopping him from ripping Yelena to shreds is Steve’s hand on his wrist and Peggy’s reminder that “she is not yours. Stand down.” Rather than give into his animalistic urges to destroy, he settles for his usual scowl, hooded eyes trained on the couple in hopes that he can will them apart and her into his arms. His self control doesn’t last long and he’s marching over to the women in no time. 

“Yelena,” he gives her a curt nod, “Sunny, I need to talk to you.”

Neither is able to protest before he is dragging her towards a closed door hidden from view by more guards until now. Yelena shots Steve a lock of contempt as she approaches their booth, “You two are absolutely no help. Why didn’t either you of stop him?” “Do you really expect me to get in between him and what he wants?” Steve says expectedly as they all know no one is stupid enough to do so. 

“A heads-up would’ve been nice.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time you’re on a date with the woman he’s interested in.”

[fairyniceyeah]

IMPORTANT NOTICE

Hey guys, girls and theys and everything in between and around 🩷

I have an important announcement to make: I decided to change my username coming tomorrow morning CEST. I won’t reveal it yet in case something comes up but so far this is the plan.

I don’t think it will effect the blog itself too much and I will keep the content and everything the same, not even the 🧚🏻‍♀️-tag will change.

My reasons, you may ask:

When I first started this blog I never thought it would grow so big. I didn’t know back then that the K-Pop and especially the K-Pop Sickfic community was this huge. I honestly really appreciate every single one of you, I never expected so many followers and casual readers. Kudos to all of you!!!

But with that has come every growing worry that people from real life might find this blog. You know my ao3 runs under the same name and it’s even a similar name other accounts. Some of my friends know my ao3 and some know I run a tumblr blog … and I am pretty scared of the judgement that finding this blog and especially certain posts might bring. Just to be clear: I am not ashamed of this blog at all!

But it is indeed a very niche interest/trope (whatever you wanna call it) and not very socially accepted. I think you all know what I mean. If friends have already found this blog they haven’t let me know but if it can be prevented, I want the protection a new username can bring. Especially since I am starting my first real professional job in October I feel like I need to make this blog more hidden from real life.

I hope you understand!

I wanted to give you at least a bit of warning but waiting for much longer does give me some bad anxiety, so I decided to change as much as possible as soon as possible.

Lots of love,

🧚🏻‍♀️

[etherealcheol-mp3]

White Carnations, Red Roses (and other perfumed words I hide behind) [TEASER]

Pairing: Seungcheol x reader (ft other svt members)

Genre/warnings: fluff, humor, sorta enemies to lovers, misunderstandings, flower shop owner!Y/N, landord!Seungcheol, tags will be updated later on when the actual fic is completed

Word count: TBD

Summary: You were just starting to foolishly believe that your move to a new city wasn't as bad as people had told you it would be. You had your best friend as your roommate, your new flower shop was running relatively smoothly after the grand opening, and everyone you had met so far had been nothing but kind to you. And then you met Choi Seungcheol.

A/N: i hate writing summaries oh god i promise this fic won't be as bad at the summary makes it sound...anyway !! hi ! new fic on this blog that i haven't really touched in a l o n g time. hopefully, i don't give up on this fic and get back to writing like before but these are just simply baby steps for me so we'll see how this goes. please let me know what you think and if you'd be interested in reading this fic because i could use the motivation lmao. other than that, thank you for reading this and cheers to new beginnings !!

Perfumed Words (floriography) - "Once a form of clandestine communication, the language of flowers was a silent dialogue — an unspoken way to converse with friends, lovers..."

Flowers are said to represent many different things. On a basic level, they can express love, happiness, gratitude, condolences, congratulations, well wishes, and more. To those who look a little deeper, each flower has its own unique meaning and representation. It’s these more intricate meanings that make owning a flower shop so fun to Y/N. People will come in every day searching for flowers to fit a multitude of occasions and only deem the ‘prettiest’ ones worthy of their money, not at all aware that the bouquet they just purchased for an anniversary is full of flowers that represent rejection, foolishness, and ill-nature. Of course, there are the people that want to hear all about flower meanings and how to best express their desired message, but after moving to a bigger, more urban city in order to expand the once small flower shop owned in your hometown, the amount of patience customers seemed to have to hear about the symbolism of the flowers they picked had greatly lessened.

You grunted softly, dropping the large bag of potting soil on the ground. The new shop had only been open for about two weeks but there was still a desperate need for organization in the back areas, hidden from the view of customers. “That was all of them right?” Chan asks as he pants lightly, leaning his side against the wall of the storage room. Chan was one of your only part-timers and a lifelong best friend. Growing up next door to one another in a neighborhood full of teenagers and newborns almost guaranteed a solid friendship as you were the only two kids around the same age who also went to the same school. Chan had helped you learn to ride a bike and you had cried while playing hide and seek one time since it had been close to an hour and you hadn’t found him. As you got older, you stayed close and Chan was one of the biggest supporters in your life when you decided you wanted to open your own flower shop. 

You laughed breathily at the boy next to you who was now dramatically trying to check his pulse. You push his shoulder gently as you move to walk back out to the front of the store. “I bet you regret saying you would go to university in the city now, huh?” Chan snorts at that, wrapping his arms tightly around you from behind to trap you in a bone-crushing hug, rubbing the side of his face against yours for good measure. You try to escape but he only holds you tighter, earning a loud groan from you, “Why would I regret moving with my bestest friend in the world? School has nothing to do with my undying loyalty to you,” You can’t help but laugh at that, finally freeing yourself from his arms and turning to face him. “Cut the shit, Lee Chan, we both know you’re only here because I have an extra bedroom in my apartment and could give you a job.” His shit-eating grin doesn’t falter as he extends his arms out for another hug, “Exactly what I said! Undying loyalty!”

You roll your eyes but can’t hide the smile on your face. “Yeah, yeah. Why don’t you show me that undying loyalty of yours by watering the plants in the greenhouse for me,” You smile sweetly while pushing a water spritzer into his chest. The way the smile on his face drops at your words makes you laugh lightly. He grumbles a bit but grabs the tools he needed and heads to the back door, raising his middle finger without turning back as you call out a sweet ‘Thank you!’. Chan was younger than you by a few years and the time for him to start university just so happened to overlay the time you decided to move the location of your shop for a much-needed expansion. You were lucky the area you settled on wasn’t too far from where you currently lived and Chan was even luckier that his dream school wasn’t far either. The small commercial strip you found with a space for rent seemed too good to be true at first. The area was popular and well developed with a large variety of stores surrounding yours. So far all the owners you had met were friendly and welcoming too. 

You were almost immediately invited to game night by the owner of the coin karaoke, Soonyoung, who was two shops down from yours, and the manager of his place, Seokmin, looked as if he would cry if you declined the offer. When you agreed and met up with them later that night you met the co-owners of the souvenir shop across the street, Jeonghan, and Joshua, and Chan hit it off with the part-timer of the record shop who everyone called Vernon. The two found out they were both attending the same university in the upcoming semester starting in just a few weeks and you felt relief that Chan wouldn’t be completely on his own. 

Everyone seemed to get along with one another and you were excited to slowly start joining the group for future get-togethers. The one person you couldn’t seem to get a clear read on was the landlord and property owner of the shops. You had met briefly twice: when you expressed interest in the vacant lot and when you signed your lease. Seungcheol was his name, and he always seemed to be in a rush whenever you met him, always leaving as quickly as possible with a tight smile and tired eyes. He was around the same age as you and the other shop owners and you assumed for a guy in charge of so many tenants he was just understandably busy. 

You were mindlessly sweeping behind the check-out counter in the front of your store when the small chime of the bell above the front door drew your attention. You called out over your shoulder without fully turning to face the person, “Hi, I’m sorry but we’re closed for the day,” resting the broom against the wall, you brushed your hands off on your green apron and turned around to give the person your full attention. “I can’t even come in to see how you’re settling in?” The question catches you off guard, as does the presence of Seungcheol lightly stroking the petal of one of the white carnations on display. He looks up at you after a bit, cocking his brow slightly with a warm smile. He looks relaxed today, not as rushed and fidgety as your prior encounters, and the tan short-sleeved shirt he’s wearing hugs his previously hidden biceps wonderfully. 

You blink once, then twice before you let out a soft, “Oh.” Seungcheol moves his hand from the delicate petals and crosses his arms over his chest while turning to face you fully. “I didn’t know you’d uh, didn’t know you would stop by…today,” You don’t know why you feel so nervous under the man's gaze but the light chuckle that leaves him makes you feel weak in the knees. He begins to walk up to the counter you’re still standing behind and you feel your eyes widen slightly. “I like to surprise my tenants every once in a while. Make sure they’re getting their money’s worth from their rent.” You nod slightly at that, looking down at the counter between the two of you to avoid his gaze. “Oh, yeah. That makes sense, I mean you-” he cuts you off with a gentle yet firm tone. “I also make sure they’re following the rules. They’re very strict here.”

Your head snaps up to meet his. His face looks serious and you can’t help but furrow your brows at his words. “Rules?’ You question quietly. He nods and his face holds the same serious expression as before. “This is a strictly business-only zone during operating hours. We can all be friends and whatever else when stores are closed but outside of that it’s rivalry and competition only.” You tilt your head in utter confusion and let out a “What?” that ends up being the loudest and most stable word you’ve spoken to him so far. The corner of his lips twitches just slightly upwards at that before he continues. “Every month rent is due, this isn’t news,” You narrow your eyes as he speaks, unsure if you’re going to like where this goes, “However, the shop with the highest sales for the month gets a benefit.” You raise an eyebrow at his vague explanation and cross your arms over your chest. “What does that have to do with rent, or being friendly with one another during business hours?”

Seungcheol sighs with a shake of his head, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jeans before meeting your eyes with a look of amusement. “Let’s just say the benefit is good enough that some good old-fashioned business rivalry and...sabotage, I guess you could say, is perfectly normal. If you don’t want to see your little flowers cut up or your water supply blocked then I would suggest you stick to the rules.” You let out a scoff of disbelief as he finishes. “I find it really hard to believe any of the people I’ve met so far would do anything like that, and I also find it insane that you would even allow it if it ever did.” 

Seungcheol smiles at your words, enjoying the anger he can see beginning to grow. He leans over the counter slightly to get even closer to you before he speaks lowly, “You don’t know me or anyone else here like you might think you do. I really hope you’ll be able to last long enough to do that, but from what I see, you and your little flowers won’t make it to Christmas. It’s not like your sales would help you anyway.” You glare at him and clench your jaw at his words. You’re stuck in a trance of anger and disbelief and don’t even realize he’s walked away and out the front door until you hear the light chime from the bell once again. You’re unable to move as you replay the scene again and again in your head, only being brought back by Chan dramatically exclaiming his relief at once again being in a building with air conditioning. He sees your rigid stance and feels his eyes widen at the expression on your face. 

“Y/N…are you good?” He asks hesitantly, unsure of what he missed while he was out. “I’m good,” you let out a deep breath as you meet his eyes, “I just need to go pick up a few things.” Chan looks confused as you walk past him to the back office space and grab your things, ready to leave. “What things?” He asks, following behind you and quickly ridding himself of his matching green apron as you quickly walk to the front door, flipping the open sign to display ‘Closed’. “Just some things to help me prove an asshole wrong,” You speak casually with a smile that Chan recognizes all too well. “Shaving cream or duct tape?” He asks in slight fear of the answer, letting out a sigh of disdain at the answer. “Lemons.” 

“Oh fuck.”

[dearweirdme]

https://www.tumblr.com/dearweirdme/756239745546387456/whoops-i-feel-like-i-invited-a-bunch-of-nasties?source=share

Well atleast they aren't disappointed in me 🥹.

Just a few quick notes before I go (sorry can't help myself 🫣)

"none of these things that this obviously ignorant anon has written is how real relationships work" hey but that was my point. That is for sure not how real relationships work. Real relationships aren't dependent just on specific occasions. That's why my hypothetical me broke up with my hypothetical bf 🤷🏻‍♀️

"...because in the real world, people don’t feel the need to stick to their partners like that all the time and they definitely wouldn’t ignore their friends or coworkers just because their partner is there." Well....IRL people don't straight up ignore their partners either 😬. And they for sure don't leave them behind without asking them to tag along. Or maybe I've been doing relationships wrong all my life??

The way Jk behaves with Taehyung in public (aww so you see it too?? Aren't they the cutest? 🥰) shows more than anything that those two don’t have anything to hide-Btw, going as buddies in the military or shooting travel shows as a duo doesn't come under the "hidden couple" category either.

"I also don’t see you or any of your anons asking why during HS concert, Jimin and Jungkook “disappeared” together for almost 20 minutes" Yes I didn't ask this anywhere. But there's a reason for that, the reason is- I had no idea that they "disappeared" bcs believe it or not, I am not in-charge of their pee pee schedules. And trust me you don't want to assert the point that they were using those 20 mins for making out in the concert venue loo, bcs by that logic, taekook have been making out at almost every other award show, since they've had a habit of "disappearing" together during shows.

"Y’all must think this is some drama or something where those who are in love can’t keep their hands of each other IN PUBLIC." You say this and then you start talking about 20 min disappearances. Be consistent please 🙄.

"..would openly display their affection towards each other by holding each other while singing romantic songs, sticking close to each other, wispering to each other and all." There were four members at the hs concert. Two stuck together like glue, the others did their own thing. There were three at yoongi's concert, two stuck together, the other one was more focused on yoongi. There were 6 and then 5 members in '23. Two stuck together, the others did their own thing. Now if you want to believe that those two are just coworkers(bcs jikookers don't even believe in their friendship), and I am ignorant and don't knwo how real relationships work, then I'd rather have this coworker relationship than that relationship with a boyfriend.

Hi anon!

Well, they are probably sitting around being all mad because I once again hid their ask from all of you 😂. Thanks for coming back, I think the tone of your ask was pretty lost to them.

My reason for not believing that Jk and Jm are together will always be that I do not see it in their general interactions. Sure there's some moments that out of context look sus, but when you look at them in context.. they are clearly just friends (which is by all means just as important by the way, people should stop acting as if calling two people best friends is some sort of insult). No matter how many birthdays or couple days they spend together, no matter how happily Jk talks to Jm in his lives, no matter how often they are seen together in general.. I just do not see it in the way they interact. Never have, not once! So for Jkkrs to come here and use arguments about Jkk to debunk Taekook.. it just makes no sense. It is not as though we are not aware of Jkk moments, or that we are not aware of Jkkrs theories.. we know! We deal with the same footage, Jkkrs literally send their opinions to our blogs. I am just never going to see it. I still will not see it even if it ever turns out that Jk and Tae are just friends.

I can never take a Jkkrs opinion on Tae and Jk seriously, because I think a lot of their opinions are based on unrealistic views. Had I thought their views on Jk, Tae, and Jm as individuals are correct, perhaps we would have more room to discuss.. but with how they usually describe the three, I don't think there's a possibility of that happening.

[iheartchv]

Imagine...

You've known the turtles and their friends for a while. You have feelings for a certain turtle, and he's aware of that. He has feelings for you, too. You both are adults, you know what you want, and know the hardships that are to come. Shredder has risen in power, his army many, causing an apocalyptic war between mutants and humans. Since then, you and your turtle crush hasn't had any time to be together. Duty came first. Sure, you talked briefly over police speakers Donnie had rigged, but that wasn't the same as actually talking face to face. One thing he also told you, because Splinter had told his sons....

⛩⛩⛩⛩⛩⛩⛩⛩⛩

"Ninjas are forbidden to love..."

"I know. You've said this before..."

He saw the sadness, the loneliness, in your eyes. He never wanted to make you feel that way. He sighed deeply and made you look at him.

"That doesn't stop my heart from thinking about you though."

He told you that he was going to join a resistance group that has stayed hidden from Shredder and his goons. He was going to war. You had tried arguing with him, telling him it was dangerous.

"What if you never come back? What if something happens and we never see each other again?"

He was silent for a short moment, and finally said,"Even if our paths never meet, or you get over me and move on, just know that... no one will ever treat you, love you, for the beautiful goddess you are. Any man would be lucky to have you to treasure and hold."

Your heart pounded so much it hurt to breath. The thought of losing him was too much to bear. You cared for him too much.

You started again,"I'll never meet someone like you again. You're my man," you confessed.

His heart hurt, as well. He wanted to be happy, more happy than what he was feeling right now. He wanted to tell you that he was going to come back and always be by your side, but he learned to not keep promises that he wasn't for certain to keep. However, hearing you say that you loved him warmed his soul that dreaded the war ahead.

He couldn't help it. His heart, his entire being was consumed by you. "Y/N..." he barely whispered. He kissed you so sweetly, so slowly, wanting to memorize the taste of your lips. His arms wrapped around you, wanting you so close. He needed your warmth, your love right now. He needed you.

"I want to spend every minute we have together. And right now... I want to make love to you." He paused for a second. "Do you want that?"

His eyes... oh, you couldn't resist the tenderness in his eyes. There was life again where there was once something dull, dead. Since Splinter's passing, he hadn't been himself. But the eyes staring back at you was the ones you missed. Your heart swelled with love for this turtle man. Yes, you wanted him, in the most intimate of ways.

"Yes, I want that. Make love to me. Please..."

He kissed you more passionately this time while laying you back onto your bed, with a mission in mind. And that was to love, touch and kiss every inch of you.

⛩⛩⛩⛩⛩⛩⛩⛩⛩

So this turned out to be a bit longer than I wanted, but... I'm just exercising my brain and looking through my drafts to finish before moving on to my inbox ( it wont take long ) Hope you liked it c:

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