#Elizabeth Stride

[thepastisalreadywritten]

By Parissa DJangi

August 18, 2023

Some say he was a surgeon. Others, a deranged madman — or perhaps a butcher, prince, artist, or specter.

The murderer known to history as Jack the Ripper terrorized London 135 years ago this fall.

In the subsequent century, he has been everything to everyone, a dark shadow on which we pin our fears and attitudes.

But to five women, Jack the Ripper was not a legendary phantom or a character from a detective novel — he was the person who horrifically ended their lives.

“Jack the Ripper was a real person who killed real people,” reiterates historian Hallie Rubenhold, whose book, The Five, chronicles the lives of his victims. “He wasn’t a legend.”

Who were these women? They had names: Mary Ann “Polly” Nichols, Annie Chapman, Elizabeth Stride, Catherine Eddowes, and Mary Jane Kelly.

They also had hopes, loved ones, friends, and, in some cases, children.

Their lives, each one unique, tell the story of 19th-century London, a city that pushed them to its margins and paid more attention to them dead than alive.

Terror in Whitechapel

Their stories did not all begin in London, but they ended there, in and around the crowded corner of the metropolis known as Whitechapel, a district in London’s East End.

“Probably there is no such spectacle in the whole world as that of this immense, neglected, forgotten great city of East London,” Walter Bessant wrote in his novel All Sorts and Conditions of Men in 1882.

“It is even neglected by its own citizens, who had never yet perceived their abandoned condition.”

The “abandoned” citizens of Whitechapel included some of the city’s poorest residents.

Immigrants, transient laborers, families, single women, thieves — they all crushed together in overflowing tenements, slums, and workhouses.

According to historian Judith Walkowitz:

“By the 1880s, Whitechapel had come to epitomize the social ills of ‘Outcast London,’ a place where sin and poverty comingled in the Victorian imagination, shocking the middle classes."

Whitechapel transformed into a scene of horror when the lifeless, mutilated body of Polly Nichols was discovered on a dark street in the early morning hours of August 31, 1888.

She became the first of Jack the Ripper’s five canonical victims, the core group of women whose murders appeared to be related and occurred over a short span of time.

Over the next month, three more murdered women would be found on the streets of the East End.

They had been killed in a similar way: their throats slashed, and, in most cases, their abdomens disemboweled.

Some victims’ organs had been removed. The fifth murder occurred on November 9, when the Ripper butchered Mary Jane Kelly with such barbarity that she was nearly unrecognizable.

This so-called “Autumn of Terror” pushed Whitechapel and the entire city into a panic, and the serial killer’s mysterious identity only heightened the drama.

The press sensationalized the astonishingly grisly murders — and the lives of the murdered women.

Polly, Annie, Elizabeth, Catherine, and Mary Jane

Though forever linked by the manner of their death, the five women murdered by Jack the Ripper shared something else in common:

They were among London’s most vulnerable residents, living on the margins of Victorian society.

They eked out a life in the East End, drifting in and out of workhouses, piecing together casual jobs, and pawning their few possessions to afford a bed for a night in a lodging house.

If they could not scrape together the coins, they simply slept on the street.

“Nobody cared about who these women were at all,” Rubenhold says. “Their lives were incredibly precarious.”

Polly Nichols knew precarity well. Born in 1845, she fulfilled the Victorian ideal of proper womanhood when she became a wife at the age of 18.

But after bearing five children, she ultimately left her husband under suspicions of his infidelity.

Alcohol became both a crutch and curse for her in the final years of her life.

Alcohol also hastened Annie Chapman’s estrangement from what was considered a respectable life.

Annie Chapman was born in 1840 and spent most of her life in London and Berkshire.

With her marriage to John Chapman, a coachman, in 1869, Annie positioned herself in the top tier of the working class.

But her taste for alcohol and the loss of her children unraveled her family life, and Annie ended up in the East End.

Swedish-born Elizabeth Stride was an immigrant, like thousands of others who lived in the East End.

Born in 1843, she came to England when she was 22. In London, Stride reinvented herself time and time again, becoming a wife and coffeehouse owner.

Catherine Eddowes­­, who was born in Wolverhampton in 1842 and moved to London as a child, lost both of her parents by the time she was 15.

She spent most of her adulthood with one man, who fathered her children. Before her murder, she had just returned to London after picking hops in Kent, a popular summer ritual for working-class Londoners.

At 25, Mary Jane Kelly was the youngest, and most mysterious, of the Ripper’s victims.

Kelly reportedly claimed she came from Ireland and Wales before settling in London.

She had a small luxury that the others did not: She rented a room with a bed. It would become the scene of her murder.

Yet the longstanding belief that all of these women were sex workers is a myth, as Rubenhold demonstrates in The Five.

Only two of the women — Stride and Kelly — were known to have engaged in sex work during their lives.

The fact that all of them have been labeled sex workers highlights how Victorians saw poor, unhoused women.

“They have been systematically ‘othered’ from society,” Rubenhold says,"even though this is how the majority lived.”

These women were human beings with a strong sense of personhood. According to biographer Robert Hume, their friends and neighbors described them as “industrious,” “jolly,” and “very clean.”

They lived, they loved, they existed — until, very suddenly on a dark night in 1888, they did not.

A long shadow

The discovery of Annie Chapman’s body on September 8 heightened panic in London, since her wounds echoed the shocking brutality of Polly Nichols’ murder days earlier.

Investigators realized that the same killer had likely committed both crimes — and he was still on the loose. Who would he strike next?

In late September, London’s Central News Office received a red-inked letter that claimed to be from the murderer. It was signed “Jack the Ripper.”

Papers across the city took the name and ran with it. Press coverage of the Whitechapel Murders crescendoed to a fever pitch.

Newspapers danced the line between fact and fiction, breathlessly recounting every gruesome detail of the crimes and speculating with wild abandon about the killer’s identity.

Today, that impulse endures, and armchair detectives and professional investigators alike have proposed an endless parade of suspects, including artist Walter Sickert, writer Lewis Carroll, sailor Carl Feigenbaum, and Aaron Kosminski, an East End barber.

"The continued fascination with unmasking the murderer perpetuates this idea that Jack the Ripper is a game,” Rubenhold says.

She sees parallels between the gamification of the Whitechapel Murders and the modern-day obsession with true crime.

“When we approach true crime, most of the time we approach as if it was legend, as if it wasn’t real, as if it didn’t happen to real people.”

“These crimes still happen today, and we are still not interested in the victims,” Rubenhold laments.

The Whitechapel Murders remain unsolved after 135 years, and Rubenhold believes that will never change:

“We’re not going to find anything that categorically tells us who Jack the Ripper is.”

Instead, the murders tell us about the values of the 19th century — and the 21st.

[victorianwhitechapel]

The International Day of Families is observed on 15 May every year. The Day was proclaimed by the UN General Assembly in 1993 and reflects the importance the international community attaches to families. The International Day provides an opportunity to promote awareness of issues relating to families and to increase knowledge of the social, economic and demographic processes affecting families.

In human society, family (from Latin: familia) is a group of people related either by consanguinity (by recognized birth) or affinity (by marriage or other relationship). The purpose of the family is to maintain the well-being of its members and of society. Ideally, families offer predictability, structure, and safety as members mature and learn to participate in the community. In most human societies, the family is the primary locus of attachment, nurturance, and socialization.

The women victims of brutal attacks in and or around London’s Whitechapel area between 1873 and 1891 were daughters, granddaughters, nieces, aunties, mothers, grandmothers, cousins... Here's a list of all their known relatives:

Annie Smith Chapman:

Parents and siblings: Daughter of George Smith and Ruth (née Chapman). Older sister of Emily Latitia (b. 1844), George William Thomas (c. 2nd June 1844 ~ d. June 1854), Miriam (c. 25th January 1852 ~ d. June 1854), William (c. 1st February 1854 ~ d. June 1854), Georgina (b.1856), Mirium Ruth (b.1858), and Fountain Hamilton (b. 1861).

Husband and children: Married John Chapman (1869 – 1884). Mother of Emily Ruth (b. 25 June 1870 - d. ca. 1882), Annie Georgina (b. 5 June 1873), John Alfred (b. 21 November 1880).

Extended family: Uncle Thomas Smith. Daughter-in-law of George and Ann Chapman.

Catherine Eddowes

Parents and siblings: Daughter of George Eddowes and Catherine (née Evans). Younger sister of Alfred (c. 2nd August 1833), Harriet (c. 3rd October 1834), Emma (b. 30th November 1835), Eliza Gold (c. 14th May 1837) and Elizabeth Fisher (b. 1838). Older sister of Thomas (b. 9th December 1844), George (b. 1846 – d. 1885), John (b. January 1849 – d. 18th March 1849), Sarah Ann (b. 1850), Mary Ann (b. 1852) and William (b. 1854 – d. 1854).

Husband and children: Had a relatioship with Thomas Conway (1862 – 1881). Mother of Catherine Ann "Annie" (b. 18 April 1863), Thomas Lawrence (b. 8 December 1867), George (b. 15 August 1873), Frederick William (b. 21 February 1877). Common-law wife of John Kelly (1881 – 1888, her murder).

Extended family: Uncle William Eddowes, uncle Thomas Eddowes, aunt with unknown name, paternal grandfather Thomas Eddowes. More ancestors can be found here. Son in law was Louis Phillips (married to daughter Annie). Her great-great-great-grandaughter is Jean Smith and her daughter is Tracey Marks.

Emma Elizabeth Smith

Children: A son and a daughter.

Elizabeth Gustaffsdotter Stride

Parents and siblings: Daughter of Gustaf Ericsson and Beatta Carlsdotter. Younger sister of Anna Christin (b. 1840), older sister of Carl Bernard (b. 1848) and Svante (b.1851).

Husband and children: She gave birth to a stillborn daughter result of her 7th month pregnancy (21 April 1865). She married John Thomas William Stride (1869 – 1881) and the couple had no children.

Extended family: Daughter-in-law of William Stride and Elenor Monk Stride. Her husband had 8 more siblings. PC Walter Stride was her nephew by marriage. Her sister-in-law was Olena, married to her brother Carl Bernard; and her brother-in-law was Bernhard Olsson. Descendants relatives are John and Sally Edmonds (Sally is related to John Stride).

Alice Pitts McKenzie

Parents and siblings: Daughter of Charles Pitts and Martha (neé Watson). Younger sister of William (b. 1833), John (b. 1838), Martha (b. 1840) and Jane (b. 1843), older sister of Charles (b. 1847) and Thomas (b. 1850).

Husband and children: Married to Joseph Kinsey (1863 – 1867, his death). Mother of Joseph James Kinsey (b. 21 July 1866 – d. 12 October 1866). She was in a relatioship with John McCormack (1883 – 1889, her murder).

Mary Ann Walker Nichols

Parents and siblings: Daughter of Edward and Caroline Walker. Sister of Frederick and Edward Jr. One of them died on June 1886.

Husband and children: Wife of William Nichols (1861 – 1881). Mother of William Edward (b. 17 December 1864 – d. 1866), Edward John (b. 14 July 1866), Percy George (b. 18 July 1868), Alice Esther (b. December 1870), Eliza Sarah (b. December 1876), Henry Alfred (b. 4 December 1878).

Extended family: Her maternal aunt was Mary Webb. Maureen Nichols is a descendant.

Martha White Tabram

Parents and siblings: Daughter of Charles Samuel White and Elisabeth (neé Dowsett). Younger sister of Sarah Elizabeth (b. 1832), Henry (b. 1837), Esther (b. 1839), Stephen (b. 1842) and Mary Ann (b. 1847).

Husband and children: Married to Henry Samuel Tabram (1865 – 1875). Mother of Frederick John (b. February 1871) and Charles Henry (b. December 1872). Had a relationship with Henry Turner (1876 – 1888).

Extended family: Her parents-in-law were John and Hannah Tabram. Her sisters-in-law were Anna or Hannah and Mary, and her brothers-in-law were Thomas and William (Mary, Thomas and William Tabram were triplets). She has a step-son, Henry, from Henry Samuel's first marriage to Mathilda.

Frances Coles

Parents and siblings: She was the daughter of James William Coles and Mary Ann (née Carney). Her older sisters were Mary Ann (b. ca. 1853) and Selina Adelina (b. 25th October 1855 – d. 1897), and her youngerbrother was and James Jr. (b. 30th August 1862 – d. ca. 9th January 1889).

Extended family: Baby niece Selina Adelina (b. and d. 1877), daughter of her sister Selina.

Rose Mylett

Parents and siblings: Daughter of Henry Mylett and Margaret (nee Haley). Younger sister of Mary (b. 1855) and William (b. 1857), older sister of John (b. 1863).

Husband and children: Common-law wife of Thomas Davis (c. 1880 ~ 1883). Mother of Florence Beatrice "Flossie", "Florrie" (b. 22 October 1880), and Henry (b. 29 June 1883 – may had died in infancy).

Emily Atkins Horsnell

Parents and siblings: Unfortunately itis not known at the moment the names of Emily Atkins parents. She had a sister, Mrs. Ekins.

Husband and children: Emily was married to Alfred Horsnell (1880 – before 1886). She was the mother of Emily Horsnell (b. 1881).

Mary Kelly

Parents and siblings: Daughter of John Kelly. She had seven brothers (one of them called Henry) and at least one sister (not known if older or younger).

Husband and children: Married to a man with surname Davies (1879 ~ 1881, his death). They had no children.

Ada Elbury Wilson

Parents and siblings: Daughter of Henry Edwin Elbury and Emma (née Fry). She was the sister of Charles and Henry (don't know if older or younger), and the older sister of Rose, Emma and Thomas.

Husband and children: Ada married Samuel Wilson (1889 – 1891) and it is not known if they had children.

Extended family: A niece named Zoa Lavinia Elbury, daughter of her brother Henry.

Elizabeth Jackson

Parents and siblings: Daughter of John and Catherine Jackson. Younger sister of Annie and May, sister of James (not known if older or younger).

Husband and children: She was in a relatioship with John Fairclough (1888 – 1889, her murder) and was murdered when she was eight months pregnant.

[ulysses-posts]

Book Review - The Five: The Untold Lives of The Women Killed by Jack the Ripper (Halle Rubenhold)

Book Review – The Five: The Untold Lives of The Women Killed by Jack the Ripper (Halle Rubenhold)

In an essay written in 1946 George Orwell claimed that there’s nothing the English like more than a decent murder: It is Sunday afternoon, preferably before the war. The wife is already asleep in the armchair, and the children have been sent out for a nice long walk. You put your feet up on the sofa, settle your spectacles on your nose, and open the News of the World. Roast beef and Yorkshire,…

[leonisandmurex]

Don't mess with Anne & her Mother!

↳ Don't mess with Anne & her Granddaughters!

Princess Anne with Queen Elizabeth ii & Princess Anne with Savannah Phillips, Isla Phillips & Mia Tindall || 1955 & 2019 

[mariocki]

A Ghost Story for Christmas: The Ice House (BBC, 1978)

"Who are these people, the people here?"

"Guests. They saw our advertisement and came to us, as you did."

"You take no care of them."

"You do not see the care we take of them."

"Comparatively. Your care is all for me. You have given me individual attention."

"Well, you are the most recent. They have all been here some time."

[de2thletter]

TAG DUMP TWO.

aces charles. ACES ! / chuck bartowski. life is the thing you bring wih you inside your head / connell waldron. an inarticulate desire for something beyond the daily life / joan watson. her life is happening far away from her. behind a closed door / marianne sheridan. happy endings don't happen for guys like us / neal caffrey. and those moon songs will be the songs that see you through / princess yue. and i'm bleeding and i'm bleeding right before the lord / matthew murdock. i'm a spy. THAT'S WHAT I DO ! / steve trevor. choking on grief and the remnants of my sanity. LIKE A MAD DOG ! / thomas wayne. i knew who i was this morning. i've changed so many times since then / alice liddel. don't you know a rumble ain't a rumble without me / dallas winston. striding powerful into the arms of the sea / elizabeth swann. if you're not scared it's not bravery / kit snicket. don't deny my growth. BLOOM BEAUTIFULLY ! / layla williams. like thomas the engine says. SIMPLE IS BETTER ! / lemon. it's dark it's desolate it's depressing. IT'S A DREAM ! / morticia addams. and so against my better judgement i'm the hero now / warren peace.

sometimes nothing keeps me together at the seams / eddie munson. sometimes i get sinister / goth barbie. kick push and coast / skater ken. you know what i am ? PURE HUMAN ! / rory williams.

[patriciarichardsonppgart]

These are voice actors I drew for okicon

2021/2022

[halfagone]

Before The Wayne Came A Kane

Martha Wayne née Kane came from a very prestigious family even before she married her husband, the illustrious M.D. Thomas Wayne. Sadly, her family never supported her union with Thomas, so she largely cut them out of her life once she married and that certainly had not changed when she had a son.

Her strained relationship with the rest of her family is particularly apparent when it's revealed, at the release of her and Thomas' respective wills after their unexpected, tragic deaths, that she would not give her brothers or sisters-in-law custody of Bruce. They may be the last of his living relatives, but even in death she would never allow them to touch her baby boy. Hence, his care is left to the head butler, one Alfred Pennyworth.

She did have two sister, though. Two baby sisters, one who had been disowned and disavowed from the family long before her, named Alicia. And one who was far too young to take in her son, even if Martha had allowed it. Her name is Madeline Kane. As the only other acknowledged daughter left from Roderick and Elizabeth Kane, she is left to carry the burden of her older sister's legacy. And what a burden it was, to be constantly compared to a dead woman her family seemed to adore and loathe in strides.

It's really no wonder that the moment she gets the chance, she leaves her family in Gotham to attend a university in Wisconsin. There, she meets Jack Fenton. He can be a little clumsy sometimes, but he has an eye for engineering and doesn't like her for her family's name or wealth. He calls her "Maddie" when she says so, and he doesn't ask about the change.

She falls in love and the two are wedded in the blink of an eye, Maddie pregnant with their first child only a few years after graduation. In her family's eyes, it just further proves that any Kane daughter is cursed and doomed to failure. (Beth understands this. Bette learns this. Kate knows this.)

And all too similarly to her elder sister, when her son is just fourteen years old, she is killed: yet another unexpected, tragic death. Her husband and her daughter perish along with her. Just like her older sister, the only one left is her baby boy.

Only, Maddie wasn't nearly as forthcoming with her will, and there is no guardian marked for custody in his papers. The Kanes, who proclaim they are his rightful family, are more than happy to take advantage of this.

Bruce isn't close to his family, beyond perhaps Kate. But if there is one thing that he knows it's that his parents didn't give his estranged relatives custody of him for a reason. Alfred is stingy with the details, but he can confirm that much.

Bruce is left to fight an uphill battle, helping a mourning boy heal from his loss and fighting his extended family's attempts for custody at every turn.

More ramblings under the cut:

See this guy right here?

This is Jacob Kane, Kate's father, Martha's brother, and Bruce's uncle. He's got the distinct red hair and do you know who else has red hair? Maddie. Jacob is a respected military officer and Maddie, in general, has always given me strong former U.S. agent vibes. But regardless, it makes sense that Maddie would know things or learned how to fight at an early age if her older brother left for military service.

Also, I just love showing Bruce's extended family and how twisted, complicated his family was long before he adopted so many children. And this also helps explain why Maddie is so cagey with her background. She only has Alicia left really, all the rest she keeps out and away for good reason.

But she can't protect Danny from them forever.

Plus, there's this really cool possibility for Danny to stay with the Kanes for a while and explore that avenue before he's ultimately brought into the Wayne fold. Danny gets to see what the upper crust Gotham elites look like with his own two eyes, beyond Sam's stories.

[hobietopia]

★ cruel ; neteyam

synopsis. as of recently, neteyam's been slipping away. attempting to get to the bottom of his negligence towards you, he spews harsh words that begin to form cracks within your relationship. will neteyam be able to fix this despite being the cause of your pain?

info. angst / no comfort, gn!na'vi!reader, 1135 words

warnings. arguing, yelling, outta pocket teyam (boo 🍅), one use of y/n, crying, grammatical errors, based off "queen elizabeth" fight scene :P

neteyam has been distant.

physically, he's there, but mentally — he's lightyears away from you.

it hasn't always been like this though. during the beginning of your courtship, neteyam was nothing short of attentive and caring. he was everything you wanted in a lover but as of recently, he slowly began drifting away from you. at this point, he's been more of an acquaintance than a mate.

and if you were being honest, you couldn't help but find the situation slightly comical. your mind fills itself to the brim with memories of falling so deeply in love with one another, but now — now, he's just gone.

"you never have to hide from me," he told you.

his words were doused in honey, every single insecurity that plague your mind began melting away. he wanted to know the real you. not the village's tskarem, not the "golden child" title that the elders bestowed upon you.

he wanted to know you.

he wanted to drown himself in your scent, burn the feeling of your body next to his, he wanted to know the ins and outs of your soul.

"i am just neteyam when we are together. not the clan's future olo'ekytan, not the successor of my father. i am simple and plain neteyam."

the memory brings the smallest of smiles to your lips, yet it does nothing to ease the surge of loneliness that consumes you, your heart. it keeps you up at night, eyes wide open as you replay everything that had let up to this point of your relationship. you were beyond tired having to play this game with him, so you decided to bite the bullet and ask him.

"neteyam are you here — oh, kiri!" you speak out, sending her a sweet smile her way. she returns the gesture, "hi, y/n! he's near the shooting range." she states simply, going back to her weaving.

you thank her before scurrying away. luckily, he wasn't too far and you were able to catch up with him. your hands nervously tremble, wringing themselves out in hopes to stop the shakiness. your strides are slow, but with a few encouraging words, you will yourself to walk up to him.

as if on cue, he turns around and catches you staring. his eyes catch you off guard, sunflower-hued orbs swirling with something you can't seem to put your finger on.

"hey..." you say, tone unsure. the sunlight sparkles, flashing through tiny openings of leaves as they sway in the wind. the mossy floor quiets your footsteps as you get closer, standing next to him wordlessly.

he parrots your greeting before going back to his previous task. he draws his bow, eyeing the target that stares back at him. "have you been well?" you ask hopefully. he shrugs, muttering something about being busy and that he's fine. your lips purse at the lack of communication on his end.

"okay, stop. what is wrong with you?" you ask sternly. your eyebrows scrunch in displeasure, subtly creating space between you and him by taking a step sideways. he looks back at you, surprised at the sudden fierceness to your voice.

he sends you a quizzical look as if he genuinely had no clue what you were hinting at, "i do not know what you are talking about." he states it as if it were a fact.

you roll your eyes at his deflection, crossing your arms irritably. "do not play this game with me," you scoff, sounding like a parent scolding their child. neteyam's eyes downcast shamefully towards the bow in his hands, the seriousness of the situation beginning to crash down on him.

"look, i know you have been having a hard time with your duties, but 'teyam, i'm here for you. there is no need to run away from me, from us —"

"there is no 'us'," he cuts you off, not sparing you a single glance. "there is nothing here. you have absolutely no knowledge of what it takes, what is thrust upon me as the next olo'ekytan. i am forced to love you, a simple clans person who does not contribute a single thing to this village," he grunts out, nostrils flaring in irritation.

"yes, i have my duties but i will not be forced to go through yet another day where you think we are true lovers. so back off." his voice grows angrier with each word. his words resemble a whip, every word that tumbles past his lips begins to hit you again, and again, and again. his breath gets caught in his throat as his face flushes a darker plum color.

your jaw drops slightly, an instant gasp leaving your lips. the tiny noise knocks neteyam out of his defensive state and with every passing second, regret begins to consume him whole.

both of you stay silent for second, just staring at each other in search of how to respond, to no avail. he watches your face morph into one that is more closed off, walls building themselves high as you straighten out your posture before responding.

"my mistake," you swallow thickly, voice almost mocking him in a sense. "i apologize for thinking there was an us. i thought i was speaking to just neteyam, not the chief's son. forgive me for thinking otherwise." your tone is monotonous, gaze meeting his in an intense staring match.

his brows drop, eyes widening as his frown begins to grow deeper. "y/n..." he tries to take a step closer to you, in return you take a step back. you cut off his advances before they can even start. "i am truly sorry for the fact that our entire relationship was a mere inconvenience for you."

neteyam hisses as if you had slapped him across his face, and after everything he had just spilt, he wouldn't be surprised if you actually did so. but there you stand, the sparkle in your eyes dimming. his mouth open and closes, trying to muster up enough words to form a proper sentence. and to rub salt into his freshly cut wound, "was there anything else the chief's son needed to say to me or am i free to leave?" you ask calmly, eyes never leaving his.

his hands twitch nervously, biting the inside of his cheek as he contemplates his next move. "there's nothing else to say on this matter," he mutters.

you nod affirmatively before turning your back towards him. as you begin walking away, neteyam's hands instinctively reach for you, calling your name desperately as the space between you and him grows bigger.

he knew he had messed up, big time.

"that's enough, neteyam." your voice stern, pointing an accusatory finger his way. he continues to watch your retreating form, heart willing him to run after you, yet his brain forces his body to remain deathly still.

⋆ ˚｡ ୨୧ reblogs / feedback are highly appreciated. thank you!

★ diwa's notes. i always write fluff n shit so i decided to change that LOL there might b a pt 2, not sure tho :P

© ilupearls 2023.

[knithacker]

Knit a McGregor's Rabbit … Look, It's In Mid-Stride! Designed By Sara Elizabeth Kellner: 👉 https://buff.ly/37HHnvh 🐇

[heartfullofleeches]

Since you mentioned the Frankenhounds (one of my favs of yours)

I always remember those videos of Queen Elizabeth where she enters a room with her running corgis entourage, and I just imagine scientist reader with the Frankenhounds, but instead of cute corgis it's terrifying, stitched up murder machines.

Still cuties tho!

A new face in town always called for celebration. Don't see many of those too often, and with the gradually declining population for mysterious and unknown causes they were a blessing.

A corporate hot-shot decided they had enough of the city life and shipped themselves and their earthly possessions off to the closest town that allowed them to work remotely from their high paying job. To the surprise of neighbors who arrived with baked goods and freshly picked fruits, they had already started the process of planning a get together to meet everyone they'd see on the daily. The townspeople were so thrilled they forgot the tiny detail that there was one person who wasn't as welcoming as the rest. The party began without a hitch, but something felt out of place for the new face. The one person they were more excited to meet had yet to make their presence known as as their absence persisted they began to worry they might not show at all.

"Excuse me? Do you happen to have a number I can use to all the scientist?"

Though the tap on their shoulder was enough to alert the neighbor still wearing their carrier uniform, their eyes pop out of their sockets like billiard balls as they choke down a mouthful of food. "You... invited them?"

Puzzled by their sudden change, the new neighbor flashes a concerned smile. "Yes? Some articles of their work came up when I was doing research of your town, though most were slightly vague about what they do. They replied to my email saying they'd be around as soon as they could, and they'd bring their dogs if I allowed."

The mail carrier's eyes are just about ready to shoot out their skull. They make a grab for their bag - discarding their fallen cap as they gather their things. "Great party, but something's come up. Be seeing you, if you survive. Where are my keys... where are my..."

A sharp whistle pierces the air. All color, and hope, drains from the carrier's face as the yard's back entrance is pawed opened by a clawed hand - stitches running down the length of its furred limb. It retreats into the darkness as a lone figure steps out into view. Eyes follow them from all corners as they stride meticulously towards the larger group of party-goers, face void of greater expression than tight lips and a passive gaze. They scan the crowd, locating the newcomer with ease. A small smile forms - never meeting your eyes.

"Mx. Wilson. So good to finally meet you. Since this is our first meeting I must inform you I am not one to mingle with... others. I allow this an exception as you were unaware of this fact, and seemed so excited to meet my sweet pups - and I have to say they are quite eager to meet you as well."

The braver of the crowd regain function of their limbs, and take their attempt to flee as you bring two fingers to your limbs - but it's too late. Heavy panting and soft howls join the piercing shriek of your call in a sympathy of the chaos soon to follow. One by one, your howls spill into the yard - the newcomers eyes wide with newfound terror as the years long terror resurfaces in your existing neighbors.

The hounds knock over tables and chairs, barking and hissing at all who infer with their path. They corner those more expressive of their fear in tight shapes - bursting into maniacal laughter as they attempt to fling their bodies over the walls. The smallest of the group volts over to the snack table, scooping as many appetizers as they possibly could on one plate and balances the heavy weight in their claws - gifting their gracious offering to you as they kneel at your feet. You pick through the treats, patting their head as you pop one into your mouth. The others sniff out the outsider as they run for their house, dragging them back over to you and pinning them to the earth as you tower over them. You kneel, offerings a single fruit which they refuse. You chuckle.

"Oh, come now - don't be like that. We're only welcoming you to the neighborhood. My pups even when through the trouble of getting you a gift."

The fourth and most unpredictable of your hounds begins to convulse violently. They wheeze and sputter on the grass - jaws lax as they choke up something white and thin. You stroke their back, aiding them through their expulsion of whatever was lodged in their throat. Clinging to your leg, they spit out an entire human hand striped of its bone and still intact at the joints. With Halloween right around the corner, you'd say it was more a thoughtful gift than warning.

"And if I haven't said it all ready, welcome to the neighborhood."

[ragecndybars]

Persona 3 Characters Ranked By How Good of Hugs They Give

kotone/hamuko/minako. best hugger in sees. she's a hashtag empath, so she always knows when you need a hug, too. will tug your head down to rest on her shoulder and start rubbing your back and everything. the technique? perfect. 10/10 no notes.

shinjiro. he's a lot less likely to hug anyone but aki, but when he does, it's big ol bear hug and he's not letting go until they feel better, period. he feels slightly awkward about it, but once he's holding on, he's committed. he's got that weighted blanket swag. (he doesn't smell the best though which holds him back from first place)

ryoji. hug will be a bit awkward at first but then he'll find his stride and suddenly he's a good hugger for all the same reasons as kotone. he had to get it from somewhere, after all. loses some points because he can be a little overly familiar, so he might employ back-rubbing in situations where it's unneeded.

fuuka. she's a little shy and less likely to hug, but if she does, she'll do it with all her heart!! a very gentle hugger who will try to console you as you're hugging. she might also start crying if things get emotional tbh but she won't get your shirt too wet. she also isn't likely to let go until you're smiling again.

aigis. she may be made of metal but i think we know from the ending of the game that she will cradle her loved ones so gently and with all the love and protection in her whole body <3 probably hugs a little tentatively because she doesn't want to crush the recipient of her hug. she's surprisingly warm, not cold, and her arms are less rigid than you would think.

i HAD to put koromaru this low because he technically can't hug you. but you can hug HIM and he is soft and warm and loves you so much.

yukari. she has good hugging technique, like fuuka's, but she's much more hesitant to actually hug and is more likely to pull away prematurely because she suddenly gets bashful. if someone else hugs her, she might even freeze up rather than hugging back, even if she wants to. her mind is racing with other thoughts as they hug, which makes her hug a little awkward and distracted.

theodore. gives an excellent gentle hug but he has no idea what to do next. he'll just stand there totally still indefinitely, and you have to kick him to get him to let you go.

elizabeth. hugs very enthusiastically but she will be saying some weird eccentric shit into your ear while you're trying to enjoy the hug. you could be on the verge of tears and she'd be like "oh my, is this what you humans call a 'bear hug'? should i summon a bear persona? ohohoho."

akihiko. he will hug with reckless abandon, but he is very awkward about it and hugs way too tight. like, a firm hug is nice and all, but akihiko please i cant breathe you'rE CRUSHING ME AKIHIKO--COUGH COUGH HACK--

minato/makoto. very stiff and wooden while he hugs you, so the hugging technique itself is pretty poor, but he has good awareness of when a hug is and isn't necessary and knows exactly when to squeeze a little and pull back. a quiet, slightly awkward hug.

ken. would be higher up on this list if he could just accept that he is Small but whenever he hugs someone he has to attempt to hug them in a Big Boy way which means he'll be trying to pull you down so he can hug you from "above", like with your head on his shoulder, and your back is gonna hurt like hell afterwards because he is just way too short.

junpei. gets self conscious and jerks away in the middle of a hug, just like yukari, but his technique is also awkward and wooden like minato, and if he's emotional enough to hug without feeling awkward then he'll be squeezing too tight like akihiko. worst of all worlds.

mitsuru. oh god. you're hugging her. why are you hugging her. what does she do with her arms. where should her face be. oh my god you're still holding on. are you saying something? she is not listening. she is too busy standing completely still like you're a t-rex whose vision is based on movement and if she just stays perfectly still you'll forget she's there and wander off.

[kai-anderson-whore]

Vanishing point (jmp x fem reader smut)

Summary: you had a sneaking suspicion that your husband has been bedding his ex wife till he proves you otherwise

Warnings: smut, p in v sex, oral reader receiving, ex wife drama, accused of cheating, fluff, love making.

Word count: 1,6k

A/n: this song has been playing in my head 24/7 and it made me think of James patrick march

•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•..•°˚˚°•.•¤❅¤•.•¤❅¤•.•°˚˚°•. .•°˚˚°

Ever since you were bound to this art deco filled hotel you began to uncover new emotions you never felt before. Envy, lust and wrath and greed all deadly sins that can lead to some terrible things.

That's how you ended up in this mess dead. All because of lust and greed. After being charmed by the founder of the hotel cortez James patrick march. Immediately compelled by his wit and charm he managed to sweep you off your feet with his old fashioned ways.

Soon enough falling for the murderous ghost you decided to spend the rest of time with him till the vanishing point. You thought nothing can go wrong. James always spoke about his ex wife the countess that's when you discovered evny and wrath. The way he recalls all the memories of when she was the only one who had his heart.

But now he has you yet he still talks about his ex wife like they were still vowed to one another. It made your skin crawl and blood boil.

You sat on the foot of the bed waiting on James coming back from dinner with Elizabeth like they always do regarding the hotel. But you couldn't help but think your husband had bedded his ex wife. The thought made you physically sick you tapped your foot on the ground a glass of whisky in hand you have had enough.

Another half an hour later James finally enters the room. Expecting you to be asleep silently closing the door removing his neck scarf. "Ah darling I thought you would be asleep" James's velvet accent echoed through the dim light room. He then started removing his suit jacket and removing his suspenders. You just stared blankly at your husband taking a large sip of the whisky that didn't make you hiss anymore.

James strided over to you placing a kiss on your temple. "What's going on in that pretty little head of yours dearest?" He asked taking a seat next to you not before pouring himself a glass of whisky. "How was the dinner?" You asked trying not to let the tears fall just yet.

"It was like they usually are just discussions regarding my hotel nothing new" James shrugged summing up his conversation he had with his ex wife moments ago. "Hmm" you hummed unimpressed downing the last of your whisky. "Are you sure your alright?" He questioned more noticing your demeanour.

"I'm fine James not like its normal constantly talking about your ex wife and having dinner with her no I'm completely fine with that" you scoffed getting off the foot of the bed. James furrowed his brows at your sudden remark.

"The dinners with the countess are strictly for the purpose of this hotel my dear nothing more nothing less" James told you but you didn't believe him. "Then why do you talk about her like I'm not your wife reminiscing on the past when she was going to leave you huh James how do you think that fucking makes me feel" you snapped.

James didn't say anything he knew that it wasn't fair on you. The countess was his first love the woman at one point had him on a chokehold. "Do you still love her James be honest" you asked the tears slipping out your eyes. "Of course not dearest" James chuckled at how bizarre you sounded.

How could he still love the countess when he had you. Someone who truly loves him for him. "Your lying" you accused clenching your jaw, gripping the glass tighter. James stood up walking over to you placing his ice cold hands on your shoulders.

"I do not love the countess she's history you are my present and future y/n" James stated wiping the stray tears from your cheeks. "You really mean that" you asked James nodded the line of his mustache going upwards as he smiled. "Your a thousand times mine and I'm a thousand yours until the vanishing point and not a moment before" you smiled at James's way of words like a poet.

He pressed his lips to your own passionately and lovingly. His ice cold hands on your hips guiding you to lay back on the velvet bed. Your back pressed against the bedsheets as he now paid attention to your neck. "I'm going to prove how much I love you" he whispered his voice velvety sending shivers down your spine.

You nodded your head moving your neck to let James have more access. His lips trailing peppering softly on your skin all the way down to the valley of your breasts. Your chest rising in anticipation.

"You are my queen not her, she's history you are my present and future" James hummed in between his soft lips touching yours traveling lower and lower until he faced your heat.

You bit your lip as James pulled your thighs apart. Revealing yourself to him he smirked dipping his head down giving your thighs peppered kisses leaving one of your clit. Your hands gripped the bedsheets as he devoured you.

James continues to lick a strip along your slick folds making you gasp then proceeds to suck your clit. Your fits started to grip the sheets tighter till your knuckles turned white. "Oh fuck" you moaned out your head hung back, your legs threatening to close around James's head. His strong cold hands holding your thighs apart.

"You taste exquisite dearest" James hummed sucking on your clit, your breathing heavy as your hands started tugging on his gelled hair earning a groan from James.

You began feeling that knot forming in the pit of your stomach building up for your sweet release. James began inserting a finger into your entrance curling it up hitting your sweet spot. Your moans filled the room, calls of James name left your lips like your only prayer letting everyone in this very hotel know who was making you feel this good.

James added a second finger adding to your pleasure. You squirmed from under him from the movements of his very skillful tongue. It was all too intoxicating the way his tongue would circle your clit then suck on it like his life depended on it, the way his fingers would curl upwards hitting that perfect spot bringing you over the edge.

"I'm so close james" you gasped out your soft legs threatening to enclose over James's head, "let go dearest" that was it for you the way James's velvet accent beckoning you to slip over the edge. Your back arching as you came over his mouth, James sucking up all your juices with every last drop.

Once you calmed down James removes himself from between your legs. Your legs felt shaky your eyes were heavy. "James that was wow" you chuckled lightly regaining your breathing back. James laid down on the bed beside you a devilish smirk across his pale complexion. "I'm far from done with you my dear" he grinned now climbing ontop of you making you giggle wrapping your arms around his neck.

You began unbuttoning James crisp white shirt, your lip tucked between your teeth. Detaching the last button on James's shirt you pushed the soft fabric off his pale shoulders discarding the material on the floor. James pressed his lips back on yours this time with much more hunger and passion than ever before.

With one hand holding himself up the other hand removing his dress suit pants meeting the same fate as his dress shirt did. You sat up removing your night dress leaving yourself bare for the man you loved. Your hair was all messed up by now from wiggling around but James still thought you were as perfect as ever.

Now both completely bare as the day you were born his cold hands roamed your body. Squeezing your breasts, thighs and legs peppering your soft skin with his lips tickling you with his pencil mustache. You were too focused on his lips you gasped as he entered your dripping wet heat. Your hands gripped his shoulders his thrust started slow letting you feel every inch of him Stretching you out blissfully.

"Your the only one I want not her" James whispered against your ear. You felt your heart flutter hearing those words a soft droopy smile on your lips. "I love you james" you panted a hand on the back of his neck bringing his lips to yours as he kept his slow, passionate thrusts.

"I love you more dearest" James grinned against your now swollen lips. Your moans filled the room your legs clamping over his waist feeling yourself getting closer to the edge once again. "I'm so close" you moaned bucking your hips up. "Me too darling" he grunted you felt him twitch inside you his thrust got more harder chasing your highs.

You let go over him your back arched. James watched in awe at your beauty unravelling beneath him. He couldn't believe such a creature like you would want someone like him he didn't deserve you he thought. A few more thrusts James reached his climax spilling him seed inside you.

Milking your highs James dropped ontop of you his face buried in the crook of your neck placing lazy kisses on the exposed skin. You grinned tiredly your hand playing with his hair. "Your the only one I want y/n, you and I till the vanishing point" he said rolling off you only to pull you close to him.

"And not a moment before" you smiled snuggling closer to him closing your eyes.

[ash-whimsicalfanfic]

The Scarlet Witch (CH 2)

Mattheo Riddle X Fem OC/Reader

Word Count: 1854

Warnings: Mild language, violence, graphic content, blood, angst, fluff, smut…

Prompt: Y/n Maximoff, a witch who can perform wandless magic transfers to Hogwarts. She makes friends and foes, all the while love seems to be in the air even though she wasn’t expecting it. There is highs and lows in this love story, with unexpected twists and turns and maybe even heartbreak.

Faceclaim: Wanda Maximoff/Elizabeth Olsen/Scarlet Witch

Y/N’s POV

I was silent, following behind Pansy as she looked for the guys. She squeals when she sees Draco who was with the guys in the courtyard under a tree. Mattheo was smoking, leaning against the side of the tree. I stay rooted to my spot that was a little ways off from them.

I look at the Astronomy tower and decide that maybe I could go there. I tense as my wrist is grabbed and I look over to see a first year girl.

"Please. I want to go home." She pleads as tears well in her eyes.

"Let me show you something." I murmur.

I watch the red tendrils between my fingers before I gently tap her temple. I watch as she smiles widely, her eyes dazed as she takes in the different memories I sent to show her. She turns to me and hugs me.

I tense, freezing as my arms stay up out of awkwardness before I slowly hug her back. She pulls away, thanking me before she skips away. I wait till I know she's gone before brushing myself off. I straighten the front of my outfit before I feel eyes on me.

I look around before my eyes meet Mattheo's. He was watching me and I quirk a brow before turning away from him and striding towards the Astronomy tower.

I wasn't quite sure how to feel about this school. They weren't ready for me. I didn't struggle with casting one of their spells.

I think...I think I had finally settled into Hogwarts. It had been nearly four months, and it's been...interesting. I had nowhere to go for Christmas and neither did Mattheo. He didn't want to go home to where his father was. I couldn't blame him.

"I guess I'll see you guys when I get back." Draco sighs.

He too dreaded going home to his father. He was eager to see his mother, but I couldn't blame him. I had a brief meeting with Narcissa and she is quite splendid when her wretched husband wasn't around. She lives in fear when he is there. It's heartbreaking.

Draco does some “bro” hug with Mattheo before coming to me and hugging me. I’ve gotten better about hugs too in the past four months. Who would’ve thought?

"Try and make the most of it." I say, returning the hug.

"You as well. And try to stay out of trouble." He teases and I chuckle, rolling my eyes as we pull apart.

"No promises." I say.

It was sad everyone was going home. I know it was just for holidays. I kind of wished I was like them. I wanted to have a home to go home too. I wanted to have a family to go to. But, instead I was an orphan myself.

"Mattheo? Y/N? Why are you guys still here?" Pansy asks as she comes back out with her bags.

"Oh...we are staying here for the holidays." I say quietly.

"I didn't want to go back to my father." Mattheo mutters.

"And you?" Pansy asks, looking at me and I frown.

"I...I don't have any family." I say quietly, looking down at my hands.

"Alright, we have to hurry. But, both of you go pack a bag. You guys are coming with me for the holidays." She says.

"What? No, I can't do that to you Pansy. It's so last minute and I don't want to intrude on your holidays." I say.

"Shut up and pack a bag. My mom and I will enjoy having more people with us. She'll be excited. Now hurry! We don't want to miss the train." She says.

Mattheo and I head to our dorms and throw together bags before we meet her back in the common room. She smiles at us before leading the way.

"Are we almost there?" I ask, looking out the train window again anxiously.

"Relax, Y/N. That's the fourth time you've asked in the past fifteen minutes." She says, laughing softly.

"Have you never been on a train before?" Mattheo asks confused.

"No." I say.

"Then how did you get to Hogwarts?" Pansy asks confused.

"I made a portal. Portals are easier than these...trains." I grumble, poking the window.

"Hey, it's not that bad. You get to hang out with us." Pansy teases.

"Your right. I do appreciate your guys' company. But, I've never traveled by train before so it is a bit distracting." I admit.

"It's okay, love. Just relax." Mattheo says mindlessly, focused on his sketchbook.

Pansy wiggles her eyebrows and I stick my tongue out at her causing her to laugh. I put my middle finger up, glaring at her as Mattheo looks between us confused.

"Excuse me, Scarlet Witch?" A small voice says.

I look over confused to see a first year. A Hufflepuff to be exact. They hold out a package with shaky hands.

"He told me to give this to you, your Christmas present he said. I didn't want too, but he said he'd hurt my sister." He says.

"Who?" I ask, taking the package.

"You know who." He says before scurrying off.

I look at the package as Mattheo clenches his jaw. Pansy seemed shocked and I pulled the envelope off the top of the page and pull out the small card.

Dearest Y/N,

Your parents were my loyalist followers until they fell in love. I knew when your mother fell pregnant that you'd be a powerful witch. I could sense it. I knew you'd be a Slytherin. A Pureblood Slytherin who can perform wandless magic. So powerful indeed. Your parents betrayed me when you were born. However, I'm giving you a chance to redeem the Maximoff name...to be my follower.

-The Dark Lord

"He's pathetic. Ignore him. I'll handle this, love. I'm sorry." Mattheo says, glaring at the card I held.

"Mattheo, don't. I don't want you ending up hurt. I'll just ignore it and if he's persistent, I'll handle it. He's right, I am powerful. I'm not being cocky or arrogant, but none of you know half the power I possess." I say.

I look at the box before I open it and my heart falls as I pull out a picture of my mother and father. There were their wands and their wedding bands. Then a picture with me. I grab the last picture, my hand shaking. They were dead. Mattheo snatches it from my hand as I grab the last letter.

If you wish to live, then you'll join me. Otherwise, you'll end up just like your parents.

"Y/N..." Pansy says sympathetically.

My eyes go red as I focus on the letter. Everything goes black and I look around to see him. I was in his head. He turns towards me quickly, glaring.

"Get out of my head." He snaps.

"Do not threaten me. You do not know who you are messing with. I will ruin you. You have my word." I snap.

"Oh, you have the same fire as your mother. Unfortunately, she was too much of a coward to end it." He says, laughing.

"My mother saw the good in everyone. And she saw something in you. She saw that there was still a human in there. There was still someone there that just wanted to save the world even if it wasn't the right way. She still saw a bit of Tom Riddle you heartless, bastard! I’m my mother, I'm my father and I am me. And I can damn well end it." I snap.

I blink and shake my head, as I come back to reality. My magic completely ruined the letter and I look at Pansy who looked shocked like Mattheo.

"You spoke in parseltongue." Pansy says.

"And to whom?" Mattheo asks.

"Your father. I don't appreciate his dry threats." I say.

"Y/N...please do not think this is some joke. I know my father and that is far from a dry threat. He means it." Mattheo says.

"Mattheo, I understand it's a threat and I understand he means it. However, I say it's a dry threat because I'll quite literally end him when I see him. He killed my parents. Then had the audacity to reach out to me. To threaten me. So, I sent him a message. I made him feel threatened and vulnerable. Maybe he'll second guess ever reaching out to me." I say.

Mattheo didn’t look so sure, but he nodded slowly. He looked at his fist that had the crumpled picture of my dead parents.

“I’m sorry…I…I’m sorry for what he did.” He says quietly.

“Mattheo, you…you don’t need to apologize. You had no part in this. This was your fathers doing.” I say.

“Many people say I’m my father. Unfortunately, being his son means I need to help clean up his wrong-doings.” He mutters.

“You aren’t your father Mattheo. You both may share the same last name, but that means nothing.” I say.

“How do you know I’m not him?” He snaps, glaring at me and I smile.

“You just apologized for something that didn’t even involve you, Mattheo. Your father…he would never do that. He hates to admit when he’s in the wrong. And I honestly don’t think he thinks he is wrong. But, you know it’s wrong for what he did. You’ve acknowledged it’s wrong and it never even involved you. This happened a long, long time ago.” I say.

Pansy was silent, a small smile on her lips as she listened. Okay, so maybe I am saying the right thing. He didn’t look like he knew how to respond and I give him a smile.

I grab his clenched fist and grab the picture, watching as red tendrils go towards it before the picture dissipates. I let a slow sigh out, feeling a lot better.

[theesirenteller]

Beacon Of Light

The Beginning Of It All

ELizabeth Boland, better known by her peers as Beth, had been normal. Insignificant,Your standard stepford wife. A standard soccer mom. And she had been fine with that or that’s what she told herself. She told herself that after her third child had been born. And by her fourth child, she’d been over it. Infertility on her husband’s end was the push she believed she needed to be someone or something greater than who she was. Although Beth had done the majority of her crime driven sprees with the help of others, she liked to believe she did it all on her own and on her own dime. Her criminally attractive ‘partner in crime’ well…more like boss, Rio was a sinful indulgence that she wished lasted longer than four encounters.

Rio was a walking mystery. A Casanova type of lover that swept into the shadows shortly after. And a botched pregnancy scare hadn’t been enough to keep him warming her bed every other night. Or any night. In the back of her mind, Beth wondered if he ever would be truly hers. To have, to hold, to own, to keep. She rarely had seen him over the last seven months. He’d always been a man who arrived to drop off and pick up money. Now, it was one of his henchmen. Usually Mick, who Beth’s younger sister Annie had been dating for the last year.

“Maybe it’s time you start taking what you want. No, always means yes in some capacity” Annie’s words lingered in Beth’s mind as she sat at a local diner, drinking her coffee.

“Well well well, Beth Boland as I live and breathe.” Agent Jimmy Turner greeted as he took a seat across from her.

Beth cracked a smile as she sat her cup down, “Nice to see you too Jimmy. How are the kids?”

“They’re good.But… we both know you didn’t call me here to catch up.” He replied with a slight smirk to his lips and knowing look within his eyes.

Beth let out a laugh before nodding her head in agreement,”You got me there.” She then straightened up her posture and smiled once again,”I actually called you here on a personal note…Rio…Christopher I mean. I wanted to know if I could get the file you had on him.”

“The file that disappeared? The one that just miraculously vanished when Dean was arrested.” Agent Turner teased followed by chuckling.

“Yes, That file.” Beth smiled. If Agent Turner wasn’t mistaken,He thought she looked proud. And that left somewhat of a sour taste in his mouth. Given the fact that Dean was his childhood best friend and it was a hard day for Agent Turner when he had to arrest Dean. 

“You know when you called me last night, Something told me it’d be about that file.” He admitted. He then reached down into his briefcase and pulled out the vanilla-skinned file. Watching as her blue eyes grew brighter and widened wider as he slid it across the table, Agent Turner grew disturbed. 

She didn’t utter a reply. Her eyes were glued to the papers and her fingers began to slightly shake. Her finger tips began brushing along the cover of the file before she flipped it open.

“Before you ask, that’s all I was able to get. Man’s a ghost otherwise.” 

Agent Turner’s words fell on deaf ears because this was all she had needed to get her started. The key to unlock a door that led to his heart. She hoped… 

Friday, 12:00 p.m. Afternoon. A time where the majority of people were taking their thirty-minute lunch break. Beth had made sure she arrived at 300 W Hemlock Grove. Between Richmond and Gregory road. Biting at the side of her lip with one hand grasped tightly to the strap of her purse. 

The sound of heels clicking caused her ears to perk up. She slowly turned in its direction. The sight of a bronzed-caramel brown skinned woman in a ditsy floral sundress caused Beth’s heart to race.

 

It was her. It was the woman from the file. Christopher’s wife, Lupita. 

Without a second thought, Beth took a stride forward and collided into the woman with great force that sent them both to the ground.

[quillofspirit]

POTC characters if they had horses

This is now officially a series! Though the next installment is not yet scheduled, inspiration will most likely strike one night, like lightning to a lone tree. Unfortunately, some pictures are not the specific horse, though they do all resemble the idea behind the choice.

Do excuse the various lengths, I had more ideas for some than others. And my skills at moodboards, I am but a youngling in the skill.

I would love to hear your thoughts or questions! either about this or other characters, and other fandoms 😊

Elizabeth Swann

A chocolate Hackney stallion, mostly sweet though also the type to feign coming when called before running away. It was an active young thing that was a gift initially meant for Governor Swann. Elizabeth fell in love with the horse when it almost got away from its holder, at first presentation. Her father was nervous about her having such an energetic animal be responsible for his daughter’s safety, though he quickly realised the love was reciprocated. Its character only part of the reason why she loved that horse, most of it being the freedom it offered. The first time she let it go at a full gallop is the moment she fell in love with the speed, and the muscles beneath her, tensing and relaxing with each stride. She would rarely confess to loving that horse more every time it resisted orders, snorting and pawing in disagreement when they tried to control it by the reigns. She named it Neptune, though she often referred to him as her First Mate.

Governor Swann

A dark bay Hackney gelding, a sweet sweet thing. The type to nudge you for affection, and have enough confidence in its rider to make them a better rider. The Hackney was, and still is, a sought-after breed, known for its trot, as well as its docile and friendly composure. Although the Governor is a skilled rider, having been instructed in all matters of high English society, he still preferred the convenience of a carriage, than riding on a horse. Over time, he found himself growing to love going on rides with Ambassador, but even more when he accompanied Elizabeth on rides. (Though he only ever went in full gallop to hear her laugh from happiness).

Will Turner

A molly mule, though very pretty, he called Hellebore. Named in honour of Rosie, Will initially got the mule with a forge he bought when Elizabeth and him could settle. The last owner left it with the deed, saying he “didn’t know the last time he’d find the thing useful.” Hellebore however, was quick to warm to Will’s soft voice and gentle pats. Mules are known to be smart, social and affectionate. They also tend to be very protective, so the fool who tried to steal from Will’s workshop got a big surprise when Hellebore bit him and trapped him in a corner. The commotion and braying got Will’s attention quickly, and when he arrived, he found the robber trembling in fear. After that, Hellebore became a loyal companion, often nudging Will for more affection, regardless of his half-hearted attempts to push it away while he worked.

Jack Sparrow

A dark bay Spanish Mustang mare. It was left behind by a Spanish general, and Jack stumbled upon it when hiding running from the law. He didn’t know how to approach such a creature, but he found he didn’t have to. It followed him around, until he relented and took care of it. The next night, it came to his rescue when a man Jack owed money to cornered him in an alley. It came charging at the man, snorting and pawing at the ground. When the man attempted to side step, it gave out a big neigh before pushing the man aside. Jack had no other choice than to be grateful, and he named it Maelstrom for it temper. Spanish Mustang are known for their intelligence, their curiosity and their sense of self-preservation. Skills that are most useful when in proximity to Jack Sparrow.

Hector Barbossa

A black Irish Draught mare, intimidating but loyal to a fault. will kick at anyone that tries to steal from the many bags it often holds can often be find stealing apples. Generally easy-going, they need a firm hand to push them to use their athletic abilities, but they are known to be surprisingly agile. Barbossa named her Themis, after the Greek goddess of Justice and Wisdom.

Joshamee Gibbs

A New Forest mare, named Scallywag. It is intelligent, good-natured and sure-footed, and it stumbled upon a drunk Gibbs one night. It jumped over Gibbs, and the first thing he saw upon waking up was the very close, soft nose of a pony sniffing him. He startled, and the pony snorted in his face. At first, Gibbs tried to shoo it away, but the horse was persistent, pushing its fuzzy nose into his hair, and he would have found the gesture endearing, if it did not grab his hat and run away with it. He looked for the horse for a few days, before he found it, moving its head all around and slapping the hat on nearby bushes. In the end, he did find it endearing.

James Norrington

A stunning silver Turkoman stallion. As a military man, James needs to trust his horse. Turkoman horses, now mostly extinct, are renowned for their stable feet, robust body and stamina. They are intelligent, and often form a very strong bond with their owners. James Norrington would be the kind of man to want a reliable horse, willing to wait months for one to be imported. The first few months together, James had to calm it a few times, before it knew it could trust. More often than not, talking to it and pressing a firm hand to its neck sufficed to calm the horse. Now, he's the type of horse to finish a race alone, and win. It has proven itself time and time again, often the calmest amongst the cavalry. He took a few weeks before deciding on a name, finally settling for Aquila.

Cutler Beckett

A white Thoroughbred stallion, it looks bigger than it really is, though with Beckett's stature it's no wonder. Generally, thoroughbreds are known to be strong and have good stamina, but tend to have nervous and stubborn spirits. Riding a thoroughbred requires a firm but knowledgeable hand, and is often the measure of a excellent rider. Lord Beckett called it Triumphant Venture.

BONUS

Davy Jones

If he had another creature at his command, but horse-inspired, it would be a kelpie. HOWEVER! I do think it would have a few lights in its mane, like an anglerfish. It would look like tiny fireflies stuck in seaweed, and might just be enough to attract curious sailors. The kelpie would generally consume all souls, but would bring some back to Davy Jones. I didn't do a moodboard for this one because it gave me nightmares!

These are my dividers, please do not use them.